#homework help for elementary students | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lyjen · 9 months ago

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Summary: Evan’s wife is an Elementary school teacher, but when a shooter enters the school and starts shooting at teachers, (Y/n) is the first person to help. Evan gets worried as his wife doesn’t pick up her phone, but as soon as the shooting reaches the news Evan is desperate to find out where she is.

Request by: anonymous - The request

9-1-1 masterlist

Taglist: @oliviah-25 @shauna-carsley

______

“So I want you to both be thinking about it. Put those two brains together, I want you to solve it and be able to explain how you solved it” (Y/n) finished her math instruction. “I’m going to give you two minutes to try and solve this question, you’re ready?” Her voice sounded through the classroom as she clicked on start on the timer which was displayed on the screen.

(Y/n) was an elementary school teacher, she teaches the fifth grade to be specific. She has her own classroom, a teacher assistant intern, and a really good bond with her students. She loves her job, she really does. There’s nothing in the world she’d rather be doing than working with children. Her husband, on the other hand, loved being a firefighter. It was his life, and in his words: he wouldn’t know where he’d be if he never started the fire academy.

When one of the kids asked her if she had a boyfriend, she told them she was married to a firefighter. The students were so enthusiastic and full of questions, so she decided to take the kids to the firehouse one day, to teach them about firefighters, dispatch and everything Bobby had to tell.

“Okay, so some of you came up with an answer and a solution.” She speaks to the group as she holds up her hand, motioning to the kids who were ready to throw their answer to her head, to hold up their hands. “Do we have a volunteer to tell us what answer they got and how they got it?” multiple hands had gone up into the air, but those hands quickly were put down when loud screams sounded through the hallways.

But it was the gunshot that went off after that which caught her attention the most. Her eyes shot towards her teacher assistant Katy, who was sitting at the desk grading some homework as she immediately dropped the pen. Katy’s eyes went wide when she realized what was happening while multiple gasps from the students filled the silence in the room.The gunshot sent a shiver down (Y/n)’s whole body, as she remembered the three words: Run, hide, fight.

That was the protocol. Run if you can, hide if you can not evacuate safely and fight if your life is in danger.

“Everyone. Hide underneath your desks” She said softly as she tried to stay as calm as she possibly could.

The students all get off their seats and follow their teachers instructions as Katy runs off to the windows and closes the blinds. Meanwhile (Y/n) gets the remote for the screen and quickly shuts it off and runs towards the lightswitch to turn it off.

“Katy, help me move this” she says as she tries to push a mid-high bookcase in front of the door to barricade it. Katy quickly moves towards (Y/n) and helps her move the cabinet, so no one would be able to get in or out of the classroom.

When the cabinet was on the right spot, (Y/n) made her way towards the kids to make sure they were okay.

“You’re okay, we’re going to be fine” (Y/n) whispered softly to one of the students who was having a breakdown. She took place on the ground and folded her legs over each other, and she rubbed her hands over the kid’s upper arm, as a sign that she was there. They were not alone.

She let her fingers wipe away the tears of the girl’s cheeks and tried to hush her. She didn’t want to draw any attention. The girl almost started hyperventilating because she was that scared. “Amelia I need you to take slow deep breaths” (Y/n) whispered almost inaudibly. The girl nodded her head as she tried to copy her teacher’s breathing pattern. “Good, through your nose and out through the mouth” (Y/n) complimented her.

Huddled up with some kids to her side, (Y/n) tried her best to calm down the kids who were having a hard time to deal with the situation. Students around her were silently crying, while they were comforting themselves and each other.

There was an ear deafening silence floating through the classroom. They could practically hear the clock on the wall, ticking after each minute that had gone by.

With every footstep she heard on the hallway outside of the classroom, (Y/n)’s heart would skip a beat. There could be children running for their lives, other teachers or the shooter choosing their next victim.

After minutes, maybe even an hour of sitting in silence, a high pitched yelp sounds through the walls of her classroom. But that scream gets cut off by a sudden gunshot. More gasps and sobs sound softly through the classroom. With wide eyes (Y/n) tries to focus on the sound of the hallway.

“No. No, what are you going to do?!” Katy’s voice whispered desperately as (Y/n) crouched down and made her way towards the door of her classroom. The assistant crawled her way towards (Y/n), who was down at the door. Looking through the little gap between the window of the door and the bookcase.

(Y/n) glances through the window and spots a fellow teacher, down on the ground while a puddle of blood is being created underneath her. “Don’t be a hero” Katy says as softly as she possibly could.

She turned her head at Katy, “She’s hurt and needs help, I can’t just leave her to..” she shrugged her shoulders, she couldn’t say die. Not with her kids around, not when they were already traumatized enough by the sounds “You know..” she continued as she shrugged her shoulders.

She couldn’t do nothing. That was not who she was.

“But the shooter is still out there.” Katy says as she desperately starts to look around her. “That’s why I need you to stay here and keep them safe” (Y/n) whispered as she pointed out at her class. Katy shook her head with a frightened look in her eyes “No.. I can’t do that” Katy sighed as she looked at the kids.

“It wasn’t a question Katy, stay here and keep them safe. Close the door behind me” She repeated one more time as she looked at her over the shoulder.

With both her hands she moved the bookcase on one end a little backwards so she was able to squeeze through the gap of the door. Her hand reached for the lever of the door, as she as silently as possible pulled the lever down and squeezed her body through the door. (Y/n) could hear the door close behind her.

Still crouching, she made her way towards her colleague and let her knees drop to the ground when she reached her. “You’re gonna be okay” she said, barely inaudible as she made eye contact with her. The teacher had lost a lot of blood, the puddle was becoming bigger with the second.

The female teacher had been shot in the chest. (Y/n) went with her first instinct, putting pressure on the wound. Without thinking, she pressed her bare hands onto the chest of the woman. The woman winced and hissed at the pain that was being pushed onto her gunshot wound. “I know it hurts, but you have to stay with me okay?” (Y/n) said as her eyes wandered from the wound to the woman’s eyes.

She was on the edge of passing out. (Y/n) could tell. The woman was blinking so fast, and she looked exhausted. “Shit” (Y/n) cursed as the eyes of the woman rolled to the back of her head. Quickly she pressed two fingers of her right hand into the skin of the neck to see if she had a pulse.

Her heart was still beating, which meant she just had to put pressure onto the wound. So the heart would have enough blood to pump around.

But then the feeling of a cold metal getting pressed onto her skin spreads a shiver down her entire body. Her mouth suddenly went dry and her heart was pounding in her chest, as if it was trying to break free from her chest.

(Y/n) was frozen in her position, hovering over the woman. Putting pressure to the wound which was still trying to bleed through the small gaps between her fingers..

“Let go” the sound of a low male voice said.

She swallowed, as she felt the metal being pushed, deeper into her skin. She slightly shook her head, “You don’t have to do this” she slowly said as she kept as still as possible. “I do, everyone in this building has to pay for what they did for me.”

A click sounded. He reloaded his gun. Just one click away from a bullet inside of her head.

“I get it.” her voice said as she felt her breathing become faster because of the adrenaline. “When they don’t see you. And no one is there to help.” She squeezed her eyes closed at the pressure of the gun that was being pushed into the side of her forehead.

“Shut. Up.” His voice hissed at (Y/n).

Tears were falling down her face as she tried to keep enough pressure on the wound of the woman. “Struggling every single day of your life, trying to find a reason to be here”

“I said shut up!” he yelled as he fired a warning shot into the concrete walls of the hallway.

She flinched at the sudden gunshot. But she didn’t stop. She didn’t give up. She needed to try, and enter his mind. Try to talk him out of it, or buy herself more time. “The bucket will fill itself with more and more water everyday. And one day, that bucket will overflow.” She tried to remain strong as her voice became more trembling by every word she spoke.

The man pushes the gun once again into her skin, the muzzle still a little warm because of the bullet that popped out a few seconds ago. A click sounds as he reloads another bullet. “And you’ll realize that you’ve been drowning.. and if there’s no one to reach out their hand...” she squeezed her eyes shut as she remained silent for a second and another tear escaped the corner of her eye.

Multiple gunshots sounded through the hallway of the school as the gun, which the shooter was holding against her head fell down to the ground together with the body of the shooter.

A gasp left her mouth as the bullets whooshed along her ears. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the body of the shooter lying behind her on his back. Lifeless.

Everything that was happening was moving in slow motion. When she looked in front of her she could see multiple swat soldiers entering the hallway with their guns pointed towards the man behind her.

“Suspect is down” one of the soldiers said into their radio’s as they made their way towards (Y/n) and the shooter.

With two paramedics following the soldiers, the paramedics kneeled down next to the female teacher which (Y/n) tried to save her life. The paramedics put down their medic bags beside them and zipped the bag open as they grabbed some gauze.

“You can let go now. We’ve got her.” the male paramedic said as he tried to get her attention by putting his hand onto her shoulder. (Y/n) was still in shock. How did she survive this? Why didn’t he just shoot her when he had the chance? Why listen to her words?

“Sorry” she said as she got back to earth. She slowly retreated her hands back to her own body as the paramedic quickly pressed the gauze down onto the wound. (Y/n) slightly flinched as she felt a hand curling around her bicep, pulling her up to her feet and escorting her down the hall to the open world. She let them. She was too shaken up to try and fight or ask questions.

______

“Hi this is (Y/n)’s phone, please leave a message after the tone!” Her voice sounded through the speaker of Evan’s phone as he ended the call before the tone could ring into his ear.

A sigh leaves Evan’s mouth as he continues to send her a text, asking her to call him back when she can.

Hen walks into the kitchen when a frown morphed onto her face. “Hey you okay?” She asked when she noticed Evan’s slightly worried face that was focussed on his phone.

Evan clicks on the send button as he slips his phone back into his pocket, and he curls his fingers around the glass of water he had made.

“I’m fine..” he sighs as he leans with his forearms onto the kitchen counter. “I have just tried to call (Y/n) multiple times but she doesn’t answer. Normally she would’ve called me back by now”

They called everyday, especially when Evan was on shift. She would call him after school had come to an end and all kids had left the classroom.

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” Evan laughed at himself as he shook his head. He sounded like he was going insane. As if he couldn’t live without her. But it was a routine, so when that routine gets interrupted, it feels weird.

Normally Evan was the one to not pick up, when he was on a call. But he always called her back when they were back at the firehouse. Sometimes it could take hours, but it could also be minutes. It depended on the call of course.

“No not at all.. I’m sure she will call you back, maybe she’s talking to a parent or she’s just busy.” Hen touches Evan’s upper arm as she tries to reassure him that his wife is okay.

“Yeah, you’re right..” Evan pushed himself off the kitchen counter, he grabbed his glass and walked towards the sofas. “Maybe I’m being a little bit paranoid, she’s fine..” Evan glances at Hen who gives him a nod and a pat on his shoulder.

“Turn the volume up” Eddie says as Chimney grabs the remote and quickly turns up the volume by pressing down on the button.

“We just confirmed that about two hours ago, there has been a school shooting here in Los Angeles. The remarkable thing is that the school where this happened, was an elementary school”

“Jesus” Eddie sighs.

“The police have confirmed that after about an hour and a half after the shooter had fired the first bullet, they shot down the shooter. The name of the school where this happened is the Great Oak Elementary School. Parents are arriving at the school now to pick up their kids. There’s one wounded teacher and two casualties, both were working at the school.”

“That’s horrible. Imagine you see this on the news and you have to pick up your traumatized child.” Hen says as she continues to listen to the tv.

“Can’t imagine what that must feel like” Eddie’s voice sounds through the room.

Evan was intensely thinking. Why was that name so familiar? What was it about that school that made him think that he had a connection to it? He didn’t have any kids, at least not yet. “Wait what school did they say?” Evan double checked the name with his team, to see if he heard them correctly.

“I think it was Great Oak Elementary School” Chimney says as he focuses again onto the television screen.

Evan’s heart dropped in his chest. As soon as he heard that name fall off the lips of his colleague's mouth, it felt like all of the air he had in his lungs was getting pushed out. Everything's coming together now.

It was the school his wife worked for.

“But why even an elementary school, not that any school would’ve been any better or different. But we’re talking about ages 5 to 10 years old. Those children are going to be scarred for life” Eddie’s dull voice sounded over the loft into Evan’s ears.

No texts, no calls, nothing.

Evan’s hearing is dull, everything is still continuing on the back of his mind but his brain is working over hours now. Making up all different kinds of scenarios of what could’ve happened in that school. “Wow Buck, you alright?” Another dull voice rang through his ears.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, he flinched at the sudden touch and his eyes connected with Hen’s as he turned his head towards her. A frightened look was spread over his face as he tried to control his breathing.

He looked down to his feet, which were suddenly wet and cold. He realizes he had dropped his glass of water down to the ground. His boots are now soaking wet, with the water dripping down his pipes. But that was the last thing he was worried about right now.

His brain filled with all different kinds of scenarios were running through his mind. “(Y/n)” he mumbled through his panicked breaths as he tried to look at Hen, who was still pressing her hand onto his shoulder while her other hand was curled around his upper arm.

“Oh no..” Hen said as he puzzled the pieces together. Finally realizing what was happening and what Evan meant.

Bobby’s voice sounded through the space as he stepped onto the loft “What’s happening?”

“There has been a school shooting at Great Oaks Elementary. The school where Buck’s wife works” Hen quickly explained to Bobby as she held her grip onto Evan’s upper arm.

Evan’s eyes that were full of worry wandered towards his captain's eyes who was coming closer towards him every second. “She isn’t answering any of my calls or texts. And I’m not waiting for the hospital to call me and tell me that she’s..” Evan sighs at the worst case scenario that was in his mind.

“Please Bobby. I need to go. I need to see for myself if she’s okay.” Evan’s broken voice sounded.

“Look Buck, I get it. But you don’t have to do this on your own. We’re coming with you, whether you like it or not. (Y/n) is our family too.” Bobby says as he softly squeezed Evan’s shoulder. A small smile spread across Evan’s face as those words left Bobby’s mouth.

“Let’s go and find (Y/n)” Bobby says as he patted his hand onto Evan’s shoulder as a sign to go.

“What do you mean she isn’t here?” Evan says after Athena finished her conclusion. “I just told you, every teacher that was here on school grounds during the shooting has been checked by paramedics, and are now sitting in a room. They’re getting the information they need if they want help. But I’ve seen every teacher in that room, and she wasn’t there Buck, only her teaching assistant Katy.” Athena continues her explanation.

“Well, have you asked Katy if she knows anything about the whereabouts of my wife?” Evan asks, maybe a little annoyed. “No, not yet. I’m waiting for the professionals to finish their job. And after that, I’ll see if Katy is willing to talk” She calmly answers Evan’s question.

“How long is that gonna take?” Evan sighs as he puts his hands on his hips. He’s losing his patience. This is taking too long. “I’m sure they’re almost done, this should only take a few more minutes” Athena reassured him.

“I don’t have time for this.. what if Katy doesn’t know where she is? This might lead to a dead end.” Evan tries to stop himself from panicking, as he rushes a hand through his short curly hair. He had to do something. He couldn’t just stand there and wait on a teaching assistant who maybe doesn't have an answer to their questions.

Evan quickly turned around and slid his phone out of his pocket. He had to try it, at least one more time. He clicks on the green icon and clicks on her name, impatiently he presses the phone against his ear. Maybe she did have it with her.. right?

“Buck..” Evan could hear Bobby sigh as he was walking away from his team.

Evan listens to the sound of the phone beeping, trying to connect with the other phone. He was pacing through one of the hallways, silently listening to the beeps of the phone. Evan’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he could hear a ringtone going off from a distance. Was that someone else’s phone or was that the phone he was trying to reach?

The ringtone stopped playing when Evan was being sent to voicemail. He quickly presses the red button, and decides to try and call the phone again.

Once more the same ringtone sounds through the hallway.

Evan follows the sound, making his way through the hallways until after multiple times of calling her phone, he reaches the door of a classroom. The tone sounded loudly through the space of the room.

Evan stepped into the classroom and walked towards the desk where the phone was buzzing. “There you are..” Evan whispered to himself as he grabbed the phone and frowned at the idea of his wife leaving her phone behind. She never leaves her phone behind.

He shoved his own phone into his pocket as he made his way back towards his team who were now talking with a young woman, probably Katy.

“Can we please ask you a few questions?” Evan could hear Athena ask the TA, who nodded at her question. “When was the last time you saw (Y/n)?” Athena continued to ask her. “During the shooting, we were all hiding inside the classroom just like protocol said. And she told me to watch the kids.. she went to help the lady who was shot outside of our classroom. I heard multiple gunshots, when I was alone with the kids. But I haven’t seen her since she told me to watch them.” Katy explains.

Evan could feel his knees trembling, like they were suddenly turning into Jell-o.

“That’s everything I know” Katy says as she shrugs her shoulders. “It’s okay, thank you Katy. If something pops into your mind, give me a call” Athena says as she gives Katy her card with her contact details and Katy walks away.

“Alright, there’s two things we can do. One, we go to the hospital and check if she may be in the ER. Or two, we go check the..-” Athena gets cut off by Evan’s voice.

“Morgue” Evan finished Athena’s sentence and shook his head. “We’re going to the ER of the nearest hospital, she’s not dead. She can’t be.” Evan continued. “Buck.” Bobby’s voice spoke up when Evan wiped his hand against his forehead, as if it helped him to get rid of the thought of his wife being dead. “I refuse to believe that she’s dead, I want to go to the hospital” Evan states as he could hear his own voice trembling.

Evan felt Bobby’s hand landing onto his shoulder. “It’s your decision to make Buck, if you want to go to the hospital, we go to the hospital” Bobby said as he looked into Evan’s eyes again. Evan nodded. He made his decision.

The drive towards the nearest hospital was silent, but when the truck pulled to a stop Evan’s hand reached for the door and he jumped out as fast as he could.

He had waited long enough. He needed his answers now.

Before the rest of his team got out of the truck, Evan had already gone through the glass doors. Evan came to a stop at the nurse station, using his hands as a brake by pressing it against the desk.

“Hi, I’m looking for (Y/n) Buckley” he panted as he focussed on the nurse who was scrolling through the documents of people who had gotten in.

“Evan?” her familiar voice sounds through his ears. His eyes went wide as he heard that voice he had hoped to hear through the phone the first time he called her. He pushed himself off the desk he was leaning on and followed her voice.

“(Y/n)?” he softly said as he looked around him. When his eyes connected with hers, his heart skipped a beat. She was alive. Just like he said.

“Evan” she sighed as she finally saw her husband's face. Evan basically sprinted towards (Y/n) as he heard her broken voice say his name. Her knees were trembling, and were on the edge of giving in. “Hey! Hey! I’m here!” Evan panted as he curled his arms around his wife and she collapsed into his arms.

She was sobbing as soon as she felt his arms curled around her body and she tightened her grip around his body, like he was the only thing to keep her from drowning. He was the hand she had to hold onto. “I’m here” Evan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding this entire time.

He let his hand cup the back of her head and he pressed his lips against her hair.

He slowly pulled back, but his arms remained around her body. He wasn’t letting her go. The hand he had pressed against the back of her head, wandered to her cheek as he wiped away her tears.

“W-what are you doing here? Are you hurt?” he stumbled as he quickly checked her on any wounds. She shook her head as she placed both of her hands down onto his chest. “No, I’m okay” she gasped through her tears.

When Evan’s eyes fell onto her hands, which were now placed on his chest, he noticed her hands which were still covered in dried blood.

He placed his hands over hers as he softly grabbed her hand and started inspecting it. “It isn’t mine” she sighed as she tried to reconnect her eyes with Evan’s, who was focussed on making sure his wife wasn’t hurt.

“Then whose blood is that?” Evan’s voice asked, concerned when his eyes remained on her hands. “T-the woman who had been shot..” she said as she tried to catch her breath. Evan’s eyes furrowed “I helped her..” in the middle of her sentence, she stopped talking. “I kept her alive, even with a gun pointed at my head” she continued.

She could hear the gunshots going off in the back of her mind, the explanation she had just given her husband brought her right back to that place. So much has happened in those few minutes, she barely had time to process everything that happened in such a short time.

Tears were streaming down her face as she was reminded of the incident. “He wanted to shoot me in the head”

“Oh baby..” a loud sigh left his lips as he pressed a kiss onto her forehead. “You did so good” he mumbled against her forehead as he pressed another kiss onto it and pulled his wife back into an embrace.

“I was so scared Evan, I really thought this is it.. that everything I did, was for the last time” (Y/n) sobbed as she locked her arms around his body once again and her head pressed against his broad chest. “But you fought like hell, like I knew you would. You fought for that woman, for the students, yourself and me. You fought your way back to me.” Evan said as he pulled away a little, so her head wouldn’t be touching his chest anymore and he could place both his hands onto her cheeks.

“You’re so much stronger than you think you are.”

______

A gasp fell off (Y/n)’s lips as a gunshot roared through the back of her mind. Her eyes were suddenly wide open and her entire body was drenched in sweat. She let her hands fall against her face as she sighed. It was just another dream, a nightmare to be more specific.

It had been weeks since the shooting on the Great Oak Elementary School, but what happened that day, was still haunting her until today.

Falling asleep was a problem at first, the first nights after the incident, she was all wrapped around Evan. Trying to get her to sleep like she was a baby that couldn’t find the right spot to sleep on.

Evan worked twenty four hour shifts, he couldn’t just go home in the middle of shift, in the middle of the night to help his wife to fall asleep at night. So sometimes, (Y/n) wouldn’t sleep at all at night, she would just wait until he came home and the second Evan was home she would doze off.

But now, it’s the constant nightmares she had. Every dream she had wasn’t the same, it’s not like she had the same nightmare over and over again on loop. No, she was having different kinds of scenario’s everytime she closed her eyes.

She let her hands fall down onto the mattress as she glanced at Evan who was peacefully asleep on his side of the bed. (Y/n) threw off the blanket and swung her feet over the side of the bed and grasped the first hoodie she saw lying down on the floor. The hoodie was a little oversized and fell over her bum.

(Y/n) stepped down the stairs of the loft and flicked on the kettle to make some tea. Maybe that would help her calm down. With her back towards the living room, she pressed her elbows down onto the flat surface of the kitchen counter.

She was tired, but couldn’t sleep. Not if she was having these nightmares, everytime she closed her eyes. (Y/n) let her head rest between her hands as she closes her eyes for a second, just to try and let the stress exit her body while the water was boiling.

Evan groaned as he turned around in bed and let his arm find the body of his wife. When his arm connected with the jumpy mattress, he pushed his head off the pillow as a confused frown was spread across his face. He wasn't expecting his arm to find the mattress, he was waiting for his arm to connect with (Y/n)’s body.

He lets his arm swipe along the mattress again to make sure she wasn’t somewhere else on the mattress. Evan turns his body and reaches out to turn on the night lamp on his nightstand. He squeezed his eyes as he tried to adjust his eyes to the bright light on his nightstand and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

Evan swung his legs over the side of the bed as he stood up to make his way downstairs, determined to find his wife. When he silently stepped down the stairs, he smiled at the way she was standing. A Los Angeles Fire Department hoodie to keep her comfortable, her eyes closed as she was leaning on her hands. While the kettle was releasing steam as it was finished boiling.

A groan left her lips as she felt a hand curled around her hip and his chin was leaning on her shoulder. Her hand reached behind her as she tried to find Evan’s arm. “Can’t sleep?” his sleepy voice asked, with his eyes still closed as he was still trying to wake up.

“Yeah” she whispered as she nodded at his question, and she placed her other hand down on his cheek as he was still leaning with his chin onto her shoulder.

“Still having those nightmares huh?” He asked her as he pressed a kiss on the palm of her hand that was resting on his face.

“Yeah, what’s new..” she sighed, she had the feeling those nightmares weren’t going away anytime soon anyways. She grabbed a cup from the upper cabinet, placed it onto the counter and started to pour water from the kettle into it.

When the cup was full enough, she placed the kettle back. “Evan?” Her soft voice sounded raspy.

“Hmm?” Evan hummed as he slightly opened his eyes to check on his wife. His arm was still wrapped around her, curved around her hip. She swallowed loudly.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this..” she whispered as she placed both of her hands flat against the counter as she stared right in front of her.

Evan’s hand started to come loose from her hip, as he let his lower back fall against the kitchen island, which was placed on the other side of the kitchen counter (Y/n) was making her tea on.

He folded his arms over each other as he leaned against the kitchen cabinets. “You mean the nightmares, right?” Evan needed a confirmation that he knew she was talking about.

She felt Evan leaving her side. But she couldn’t look at him without breaking down. So she remained standing with her back towards Evan. “No.. I meant, being a teacher.” She said as she started to make circles with her finger onto the kitchen counter.

“What? What do you mean? You love being a teacher” Evan said as he tried to make eye contact again. But she wouldn’t turn around.

She shook her head as she sighed, trying to keep her tears from falling down. “That was before this all happened. You know how exhausting it is to be wary of every single thing around you?” she sniffled as she turned her face towards the ceiling, trying everything in her power to not show her tears, or show her fear.

With her sleeves falling over her hands, she wiped the small tears away that had started rolling down her cheeks. “Every time before I even enter the school my throat goes dry, I start sweating and I can’t stop myself from shaking” she tried to say through her tears and sobs.

She turned her body, and let herself slide against the kitchen doors, dropping to the ground as she cried even harder. “I’m sick and tired of flinching at every sudden sound I hear. I can’t sleep, because any time when I close my eyes, even if it’s just for one silly second, I’m there again. With a gun against my head.” she confessed.

(Y/n) let the back of her head lean against the kitchen cabinet as she felt Evan coming closer, while she looked at the ceiling again. Trying to get rid of the tears that showed her biggest fears and weaknesses. “I can’t do this anymore Evan” she sobbed as she pressed her palms against her face. All she wanted to do was hide.

It feels like she’s drowning, drowning into her own fear and tears. The fear is over taking her like waves of the ocean, if no one would reach out that hand to help her.. she might drown.

“No.. you’re scared. And I get your reaction, but we don’t always make the best decisions when we’re operating out of fear” Evan spoke up as he curled his arm around her knee.

A sigh leaves Evan’s mouth as he tries to think of the right thing to say. “I know how hard it is to get over something so traumatizing, that you don’t know what you’re doing it for no more” he said as he tightened his arm around her knee. “But what happened could have happened anywhere. At the grocery store, in our own home, hell even at the fire station” Evan continued as he tried to get her attention, but she was too emotional to make eye contact.

She could hear every word he said, every breath he took, every moment of silence he needed, to think of what he was going to say next.

“So I need you to stop saying that you can’t do this. Because I know you can. You’re one of the strongest women I know. And I’m so proud to call you my wife. But right now, I need you to grab my hand and trust me when I say that we’ll figure this out.” tears were starting to well in Evan’s eyes as he quickly wiped his finger underneath his eyes to get rid of the tears he felt, as they were about to roll over his cheeks.

Evan loosened his grip around her knee as he reached out his hand, with his palm faced towards the ceiling. “We do this together, just like we did all the times I got hurt and didn’t know what to do” Evan said as he lowered his head, trying to get her eyes connected with him again.

Silence took over the space they were in.

Evan’s hand was still dangling between her knees as he waited for her attention and answer. “Together?” he asked one more time.

A soft smile made its way onto her face, as she nodded. “Together.” she said determined and placed her hand onto his as Evan sent her a small smile her way.

She had helped him countless times, now it was his turn to help her.

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley #imagine

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buryustogether · 2 years ago

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lilac - chapter 1

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: the father of one of your students is acting rather strangely - but when he smiles at you, you can’t help but forget your own name.

wc: 6k

warnings/tags: mentions of blood and violence, swearing, pining, stripping, strip club, sex workers, sexual fantasy, smut, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f! receiving), pet names, dom!miguel, single father!miguel, teacher!stripper!reader

author’s note: set in the universe where miguel replaces his father!variant with himself. ps - planning on turning this into a series/full fic.

New York

Earth - 9193

Since you could remember, the sky above the city, flecked with struggling stars and choking on itself over clouds of smog like cigarette smoke, had been deep purple. Some called it violet. Others named it plum. They were trying to make a prettier picture of an ugly reality, desperately ignoring the real world that held them captive. The purple held every soul in this city on a taut leash; each time someone was given a little slack, they wandered too far and discovered that, really, they hadn’t ever wanted to stray in the first place. Car bombings every week. Shootings. Back alley guttings. Innocence all but a foreign language to the citizens of New York.

You wished with every bit of you that one day you’d be able to escape and see the real color of the sky. Because deep down you knew, wanted to believe, wished and prayed… that it was not this shade of dark.

Your classroom was one of the only lit rooms here in Washington Elementary School, a beacon through dimly-lit hallways and the even dimmer streets outside your windows. A long, silent exhale managed to escape your lips as you continued to grade your third graders’ spelling tests, using a pink pen to correct their mistakes instead of a red one. You figured it was less harsh, more inviting to be open to learning from where they first failed. Your back was beginning to cramp from sitting in these damn little-kid chairs, your knees practically hugged to your chest due to how low to the floor you were. You would have been at your desk - hell, you would have been home getting ready for your second job right about now - had it not been for the young girl sitting across the table from you.

Gabriella O’Hara was, in your opinion, one of the most intelligent children you’d had the pleasure of teaching. She was quick and clever and friendly, not to mention, captain of her little soccer team funded by the taxes of PTA parents and the grumbling millionaires of the city. She was a frequent flier on your good-behavior list, and her name had made a home for itself on the principal’s honor roll long before she’d landed in your class.

She was a sweetheart, to say the least. She had been raised well by her father - who, uncharacteristically, had been a no show when it came time for pick up two hours ago.

Glancing up from your papers, you smiled gently at Gabriella as she scribbled along her homework page. “Briella, honey,” you said and leaned your chin in your hand. “Why don’t you check to see if your dad texted at all.”

Obediently, Gabriella dug her phone - a little flip-type, despite there being hundreds of smartphones out these days - and clicked the button to scroll through her recent texts. You watched as her face fell, thick brows and full lips pulling downward. “Nothing,” she said and placed her phone back. She looked to you, and it was obvious from the way she squirmed in her seat that her nervous stomach was starting to get the better of her. “I’m kind of scared, Miss Y/N. My daddy’s never late.”

Setting down your pink pen, you reached across the table and placed a hand on her small forearm. You’d stayed late before when parents were late for pick up, or they forgot, or they were too stoned out of their minds to bother, but you had to admit, you were rather worried, as well. Her father had never been late once, not even by five minutes. So two hours was, really, something to bat an eye at. “I’m sure everything’s fine,” you assured her and offered a gentle smile. “He probably just got held up at work. Maybe his phone died.” Your gaze flickered briefly to the windows behind her, strung across with colorful drawings and decorations, as a number of wailing police cars zipped past. When she started to follow your eyes, you added quickly, “I bet he’s on his way right now. Why don’t you finish up your homework so you can have the rest of the evening free when you get home.”

As she went back to her work, you found yourself tapping your fingernail against the table, your gaze stuck to an empty corner across the room. Miguel O’Hara was nothing but punctual, not just to everyday events like after-school pick up, but to every single thing he did. Soccer practice and games. Parent-teacher conferences. Hell, you wouldn’t put it past him to be an hour early to that fancy job of his at Alchemax every Monday through Friday. He was a perfectionist, signing every grade card check and permission slip with the neatest signature you’d ever seen. And it was a feat to marvel at, considering he was a single father.

Once, at a soccer practice, you’d heard from a few of the mothers who had nothing better to do than gossip that he’d moved himself and Gabriella over from Queens years ago when he was hired as a geneticist. Her mother had apparently left them when she was born, and he’d done everything from that moment on for the good of his little girl.

You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself he was, by far, the best-looking man you’d ever laid eyes on. Cheekbones placed high on his face, wide, broad shoulders, a sinewy frame that nearly challenged the doorframes he walked through. He was friendly, sure. But that was all you knew. You’d never been able to get close enough to know much else. An enigma to your curious mind, Miguel was nothing short of a puzzle that you desperately wanted to put together and see the bigger picture for yourself.

Shaking your head slightly, you forced yourself to wind back into the present. God, you needed to get a fucking grip. Crushing on the father of one of your students? Fucking pathetic. You had a boyfriend, for God’s sake.

You had just begun to grade your papers again, nearing the end of your stack, when there came the sounds of footsteps pounding against the tile floor of the hallway outside. They were jogging, approaching your room at an alarming rate. You stood, thinking it was the janitor having locked himself out of his closet again, and prepared to fetch your keys when a much different - yet no less welcome - figure filled the doorway.

“Hi, daddy,” said Gabriella as Miguel O’Hara entered your classroom.

You looked up, lips parted as you took him in. God, he was stunning. Somewhere around six feet with dark, somewhat-tamed hair that matched his tan skin and the thick brows sitting above his sloped eyes, he stood with a chest that rose and caved rapidly, like he’d run through the entire school searching for your room. Which he shouldn’t have - he knew the classroom his own daughter was in. Didn’t he?

“Oh, baby,” Miguel said and rounded the table so quickly you could have blinked and missed it. He hauled her up into his arms like she was nothing but a sack of flour and hugged her tight to his chest, almost like he was trying to mold the feeling of her to himself. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I lost track of time. I’m so sorry.” As if just realizing you were in the room, watching the pair with a small smile, he set his daughter back down and pulled her backpack from the back of her chair. “Pack up your things, okay? We’ll go home in just a minute.”

He approached you where you stood beside your desk loading your purse, and you swore your heart skipped a beat as he towered over you. Thick, corded muscles and a frame that made your stomach churn excitedly, he was the perfect picture of a fucking masterpiece. “Hi,” he said in a low tone, meant for you to hear and not Gabriella. “I’m so sorry for keeping you here. Time got away from me, and when I got here, the front doors were locked.” He took a breath. “Thank you. For watching her, I mean.”

Forcing your heart to calm its thundering in the confines of your chest, you grinned up at him brightly. “It’s not a problem, Mister O’Hara. I was happy to.” You decided to say nothing about the fact that it was unlike him to lose track of time. He wore a watch that you recognized as one of the latest, expensive versions that were magnetic, not electric, so it was incapable of stopping. How exactly did time get away from a man who revolved around it? “I’m sure she’s going to crash when you get home, anyway. She had a big day.”

Miguel blinked a few times and placed a hand on his hip, jutting it out slightly. Fuck, you wished he wouldn’t do that. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. We had a soccer scrimmage against one of the other classes today and she pulled the winning goal. Then there was the assembly over fire safety, but I’m sure you saw that in the handout last week.”

His lips remained parted for a long moment as his dark, umber gaze traveled across the stack of next week’s announcement handouts. “Right,” he said after a moment or two. “Right. Do, uh… do you think I could have another one of those? For this week. And maybe next week’s, too. Has that been sent home already?”

Giving him a rather crooked smile, you opened a drawer in your desk and produced the light green paper with last week’s announcements. Then you stacked it beneath next week’s and extended it toward his hulking frame. “Sorry if this seems a little… personal, Mister O’Hara,” you said as he took the papers, “but are you feeling alright? I really don’t mean any offense, but you seem a little… off.”

Tilting his head slightly, Miguel seemed to hesitate, fumbling with his answer in his head. He was frozen for a brief moment before your attentions were drawn across the classroom, where Gabriella zipped up her backpack and began to trudge toward the door. “I’m alright,” he said as he turned back to you. “I just, uh… I hit my head this morning. Been a little out of sorts, but I’ll be alright.”

“Daddy,” whined Gabriella under her breath. “I’m tired.”

“Okay, princesa,” he said and met her at your door. After slinging her backpack over his own shoulder and taking her hand, he glanced back at you. “Thank you again…” You watched as his eyes flickered to your name written across the whiteboard. “...Miss Y/N.”

“You’re welcome, Mister O’Hara.” A few more words sat on your tongue, desperately trying to fight against your lips and jump out before the moment escaped. You tried to fight them down, but eventually they won the battle and spilled forth. “And - and you can just call me Y/N.”

Miguel stared at you for a moment, and you thought briefly that you had crossed a line you had been unable to see. Then he smiled gently, his full lips spreading into a gentle grin. He opened his mouth to say something in return before Gabriella pulled him out the door and into the hallway. You listened as their voices and the sounds of their footsteps grew quieter before silencing, then turned away and finished gathering your things.

On your way out of the building, while slipping through the front doors, you noticed the steel bolt lock keeping them shut after dark had been snapped entirely in two - as if someone had pulled on the door hard enough to break the lock on their own.

You figured it to have been a couple students who got their hands on their parents’ bolt cutters and made a mental note to ask the janitor for a replacement.

Once you got to your car and flipped the engine, you took a breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. In that breath, you willed yourself to switch into the alternate persona you took on after the school days, after the sun had set and the night really came alive from its demented, hungover state during the lightest hours. You pushed your students into the back of your mind, your plans for tomorrow and upcoming projects and due dates into the recesses of your brain. You shoved back thoughts of Miguel O’Hara and everything about how much you wanted to fucking reverse time so that he could smile at you like he had tonight all over again.

It was time to really work, now.

The Menagerie was a club on the northeast side of the Financial District, where the warehouse fires and muggings weren’t quite as common. Police forces cruised through here more often than, say, Harlem or Queens; the people who ran the city had to keep their most well-paid workers protected and thriving, right? Who else would steal from the hands of the poor and throw it all away the first chance they got?

Thrumming, thundering music like a pulse, like the club itself was alive with the blood of money and alcohol pumping through it, pounded from speakers and shook the walls in their very foundations. Neon lights like jilted, water-colored sunlight shone from corners along the ceilings, creating shadows like both nightmares and dreams along the walls and the faces of the patrons. The bar was overflowing. Security was chasing their own tails. The place was packed. Everyone who was anyone wanted to get into The Menagerie, because between its four walls and roof, you could be anyone you wanted to be.

It was law in this gilded cage that everyone was to wear a mask, its paint and diamonds and ribbons designed to depict animals. Security wore the full-bodied faces of lions. Bartenders and servers played dress-up with rimmed eye gaps as raccoons. Guests were allowed to pick a mask ranging from creatures that roamed the sky to those that crawled the earth. And the girls - the girls were exotic, majestic things that no one would mistake for anything else. They were tigresses and peacocks, they were arctic foxes and lynxes, any animal that had long since gone missing or extinct in this world of yours. Why go searching for the real thing, when they could come here and find the women?

The Menagerie was not a club. It was a cage, for animals so desperate to get out they had bent the bars in an attempt to escape.

Staring at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room, you gingerly affixed the golden mask to your face so that it would stay spread across your features while you danced and entertained. The hard, fake porcelain covered your forehead and nose, leaving your mouth free for the lips and tongues that would attempt to claim yours as their own. Orange and gold butterfly wings blossomed from the center of the mask, disguising you as the endangered insect everyone else seemed to have forgotten about; the Monarch. Fluttering and beautiful upon the wind, never easy to catch.

That was, unless they flew right into a spider’s web.

To your left, a few of the other girls were perfecting their makeup and adjusting their outfits - what little outfits you all had. Zara, known throughout the club as the Panther, caught your eye in the mirror and flashed you a sharp smile.

“You seem quiet tonight,” she said and ran a stick of gloss over her lips. She examined herself close in her handheld. “Something on your mind?”

A few of the other girls tried to inconspicuously listen in, able to sniff out gossip from miles away. Perhaps in here, you all were a little bit more animal than human, after all.

Forcing yourself to smile gently, you waved a ring-garnished hand in Zara’s direction and turned back to your reflection. You hardly recognized yourself like this, despite seeing this version of you all week long. You hoped you never did recognize it. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you brushed off.

Across the dressing room, Shawna, the Owl, tisked her tongue and hummed from deep in her throat. “You know you’re an awful liar, girl,” she said from where she sat scrolling through her phone. “We all noticed when you came in an hour later than you do. Something happen tonight?”

Well, fuck. Now everyone was waiting for your answer, waiting to see if it was worth listening into or not.

Pursing your lips in an attempt to show that it was no big deal, despite how much your stomach and your heart and your brain screamed that it wasn’t, you shrugged a shoulder and tried to avoid their gazes. “Nothing too big,” you replied and began to absentmindedly twist the ribbon keeping your mask in place. “Just… had a student stay a little later. Her dad lost track of time.”

“It couldn’t be that Alchemax hunk you’ve been telling us about.”

Fuck - you really learned to keep your cards closer to your chest.

Your silence must have been enough for them to connect the pieces, because a few of them tittered and giggled. A newer girl, who was still earning her way up to being on stage, piped up. “Have you ever talked to him?” she asked. “I mean, besides school-related stuff. Find out if he’s attached?”

“Absolutely not,” you forced out and stood to straighten out your costume. Your breasts were barely covered by the flimsy top and your ass hung out of the bottoms, both orange and black and white, like a monarch butterfly’s designs. Gold fishnet stockings lined your legs, leading down to a set of heels that had taken weeks to not tip over in. You were supposed to wear a cape, a gown-like train, but it was stepped on too much for you to bother with it. “He’s not there to cruise teachers, he’s just trying to help his kid through the third grade.”

“More than you could’ve asked from my dad,” Zara puffed.

God, you thought, yours, too. And your mother, while you were at it. They’d never come to meetings and games and plays like Miguel did. Hell, they hardly ever even remembered to pick you up from school on their good days.

Gabriella really had hit the father lottery.

Shawna shrugged her shoulders as she rose from her seat and picked up her own mask. “Even if that’s all he’s there for,” she said, then pulled the owl-designed porcelain over her face and fixed you with a stare through the eye holes, “doesn’t have to hold you back from at least trying.”

Her words rang in your ears as you carried on with your work that evening. They stuck with you as you danced for drooling men and women who oggled at you from behind their masks, as you ran your fingers down arms to chase bigger tips, as you followed a man who paid top dollar for a private dance.

Her words rattled like bells in your head as you mindlessly ground yourself against your customer, allowing yourself to get lost in your own imagination while you willed yourself to work. You shut your eyes behind your mask and let yourself fall into a dangerous little scenario you cooked up just for yourself.

You imagined not your boyfriend, who was out there in the city somewhere playing with his stupid fucking band to a crowd of three, not of any celebrity crush or model, but of Miguel O’Hara. You imagined him beneath you instead of some man whose breath smelled like expensive alcohol. You thought of him, and his hulking frame, and his powerful thighs you had found yourself staring at anytime he entered your line of sight.

Mind running away with this little fantasy of yours, you ground yourself a little harder against the lap beneath you, pushed your chest further against the chest parallel to yours. In your head, Miguel let out a huffy breath and rested those large hands of his on your hips, slowly but surely guiding your movements until you were riding his thigh. You tried to imagine, so intensely and desperately, how such an event would go.

He would gently, but firmly, help move your hips so that your exposed clit rubbed perfectly against the rough fabric of his jeans. You would keen and arch your back into him, hands running over his sinewy shoulders, as he hitched his leg and sent a powerful jolt of pleasure running through you and right to your core.

“You like that, pretty girl?” he would murmur in your ear, lips brushing along the shell before his tongue, warm and soft and pink and wet, licked against your lobe. “Ride, querida. ‘Til I say you’re done, and then I’ll show you how a real man fucks.”

You would grind your hips against his leg, moaning aloud and unabashedly when he tensed his corded muscle so that you’d have something to hump into. His hands, wide and spread, would wander along your bare back, memorizing the skin there like it was his and his alone, and he would dip his head to attach his lips to your nipple. He’d suck the nub into a hardened bud, then kiss and lick and nibble the skin around it until it was marred with love marks that would darken the following morning, and then he’d switch and give the other one the same kind of attention.

“Miguel,” you’d whimper in a certain kind of tone, and suddenly you’d be on the bed, pulled to the edge so that the globes of your ass hung off and when he kneeled he had access to your cunt bared for him.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he would say as he pressed open-mouthed kisses up and up your inner thighs, getting closer to where you needed him most. “All for me and me alone. Isn’t that right, bebe?”

You wouldn’t be able to give him a clear answer at first, not when he would lick a long, wet stripe up the center of your folds and up to your clit. He would expertly find that little bundle of nerves, wrapping his lips around it and fondling with his tongue until you couldn’t do anything but sigh and moan and card your fingers through his dark hair to pull him closer. He would suck on your sweet spot for a while, alternating between licking stripes and adorning it with kisses, before he would slowly drag his long, thick fingers toward your sopping folds.

But he would stop just short.

“Say it,” he would tell you, dark, impenetrable gaze fixated on you from where he kneeled between your legs like a devout believer praying to his one and only love - his goddess. When you would whine and cry from the pausing of his ministrations, he would take his mouth, his wonderful, hot breath, away from your aching cunt. He would cock his head, allowing a bit of hair to fall across his face. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to, chica.”

“Miguel,” you would say again, because, really, that was all you could think of to say. “Miguel, please… need you, please…”

He would pull his fingers from your heat, gaze stony and immovable as a mountain standing tall in the midst of a storm. God, not even that could sway him. “Tell me,” he would demand again, this time in a low baritone that made your cunt clench around nothing because goddammit, even his fucking voice could send you into heat like a damn dog. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to. Now.”

“You,” would come the small, high-pitched answer, tumbling from your lips without another thought that did not involve him. “You, Miguel. Belongs to you. All for you, no one else.” You would babble, desperate to reach your climax before he let you fall back down that incline so, so cruelly, yet so, so deliciously. “Please, Miguel, need you. Need your fingers, anything. Just fuck me, please, handsome, fuck me ‘til I can’t remember my own name.”

He would tilt his head even further, like a predator toying with the prey he’d been chasing after for miles upon miles, before placing a gentle, feather-light kiss upon the inside of your thigh. “That’s my girl,” he would say, then attack your clit with his full, thick lips, plunge two of his fingers into your heat, and begin to fuck you into oblivion.

The sound of his fingers constantly edging in and out of your dripping pussy, so wet you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and your ass, would pull the most wonderful and pornographic-sounding moans and whimpers and whines of his name from your throat. Your own slick would coat his digits like honey, so sweet that for a moment he would stop his assault on your divine bundle of nerves and crane his neck to lick up a bit of it from where it dripped down your ass. The flat of his muscle would raise goosebumps along your skin as you cried out for him, one hand gripping his hair and the other buried into the sheets of the bed.

“Miguel,” you would cry and begin to rock your hips to meet the thrusts of his fingers, practically humping his face. He would take it like it was his last meal, returning to his sucking and licking and circling of your clit to send bolt after bolt of pleasure and heaven and everything else in between. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”

“That’s it,” he would murmur between licks through your soaked folds, feeling as your slick dripped down his wrist. “Say my name, bebe, tell them who’s making you feel this fucking good.”

He would angle his fingers then at just the right angle, his fingertips hitting that perfect, fucking perfect spot deep inside you. Stars would dance in your vision as your mouth would open in a silent scream, unable to get anything out but a tiny wail of heavenly pleasure. You would swear you’d never felt this goddamn good in your life, like you would gladly trade everything in the whole world just to stay here forever. His pace would pick up, aiming for that spot inside of you, and he’d lap at your cunt in a feverish craze, like it was the only thing that would save him from losing his mind.

All too soon, your thighs would begin to tremble and you would feel that beautiful, familiar coil tightening and winding deep within your soul. “Miguel,” you would cry out for the whole world to hear. “Miguel, m’close, I’m so close!”

“Come on, pretty bebe,” he would say between your thighs that would try to wrap around his head in a feeble attempt to pull him closer. “Cum f’me. I want it. All of it.”

His words would send a shockwave of pleasure through you, one that would white out your vision so intensely you would have thought he’d killed you and sent you on your way to the pearly white gates, and you’d have been okay with that. He continued to work you through your orgasm, his pace slowing but never stopping, his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses along your thighs, your hips, your naval.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Taking it so well, all for me. Look so pretty all laid out like this, like I could just eat you up. Would you like that, hmm? You want me to just devour you ‘til you’re left shaking and crying my name?”

“Miguel. Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”

“...My name��s not Miguel.”

Your eyes flashed open, suddenly brought back to the real world, pulled away from your fantasy. Through the holes in your monarch mask, you looked down to find your customer staring up at you with wide eyes and popping a boner put there by your mindless rocking against his hips. Feeling your cheeks flush, you slipped off of him and consciously tugged your outfit lower over your ass.

You pursed your lips, attempting to hide how mortified you were. “...That’s going to be another twenty bucks.”

It wasn’t until around one in the morning when you got home to your little apartment squished in a dilapidated little building wedged between two office towers because the landlord had refused to sell the place when they steamrolled the others ten years ago. The lights were off when you slipped inside, and a little piece of yourself inside wilted.

At once, you threw up a wall and dismissed that sinking feeling. Of course he wasn’t going to wait up for you. He’d had a show tonight, and he had another one tomorrow. He was tired.

Not nearly as fucking tired as you, though.

After wiping off your makeup and pulling off the fake little diamonds stuck on your temples, after changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth, and after pinning a new drawing from one of your students on the fridge despite the fact you knew they’d never see it, you tiptoed back to the cramped little bedroom. You poked your head inside. Ferris, your boyfriend of six months, was spread out across the entire mattress, snoring gently into the fabric of the crumpled sheets.

You swallowed thick. You didn’t want to disturb him. He needed his rest.

You grabbed your phone charger from the wall and your pillow from beneath his arm, then slid on your socks back into the tiny living room. Plopping yourself down on the couch and plugging in your phone, you rolled yourself onto your side and stared at the dark screen. Willing something to happen. Something to come up, someone to reach out.

Because in reality, though you would rather throw yourself off the Brooklyn Bridge than admit it… you had never felt so alone.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #spiderman #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #sony spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv miguel

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canthelpit0 · 9 months ago

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Jealous girl

Pairing: Chris x jealous!Reader

Wordcount: 5.1k +

Summary: where a girl from school, that you don’t like, somehow knows Chris. Your school life and private life collide, as you decide to make rash moves to get back at her, and teach her a lesson.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, rich kid!Reader, use of y/n, they’re seniors in HS, marking, possessive!Reader (if u squint), pet names, p in v, filming, creampie, unprotected

(A/N: ik I’ve been doing a lot of rich kid reader, but it’s just sm easier 😭 I'm sorry for any grammar errors, English is not my fist language. also, the song has like barely anything to do with the plot.)

I’ve been friends with the triplets for most of my life. We just click.

I’ve always had a slight crush on Chris, he’s the first one I met.

I was scribbling a drawing in kindergarden, sitting at a table all by myself, when Chris came up to me. He started to talk to me and rant about something, until he declared us friends.

We grew up together, went to the same elementary and middle school. But being a rich kid, my parents wanted me to go to a private high school for better education.

So now I go to a private high school in Boston, while the triplets go to Somerville high school.

At first I really didn’t want to go, since it was a private school with uniforms and all. But my parents weren’t letting up, and even threatened to send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.

So I reluctantly agreed.

There was this girl, Eva. Your basic blonde girl with green eyes.

Now, I never liked Eva’s friend, but that was years ago, and I don’t think they’re even friends anymore.

Anyway, me and Eva share the same AP European history class.

We don’t talk a lot though.

★ ★ ★

I walk down the hallway making my way towards the door. Today was a draining day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.

But I have homework and-

My thoughts are cut off as I stop in my track raising an eyebrow. There was chris, standing in front of the main entrance of the school.

“Y/n?” He asks excitedly. It’s like my brain pauses for a moment.

“Chris?” I ask back.

At this point I hadn’t seen Chris or his brothers in a month or so. I was too busy studying and they were busy with lacrosse.

I live in Boston at the border to Somerville. And Chris lives in Somerville. But my school is 40 minutes away from his by car.

He opens his arms and I gladly hug him. I sigh as we embrace, my eyes closing briefly.

“Why are you here?” I ask. After all, Chris, to my knowledge didn’t have a drivers license and no reason to be here.

“Well, you know Eva? Well I gave her my jacket a week ago and I came to pick it up since she goes to your school-“ He rants, his words come out fast and jumbled by how excited he is to see me.

“How do you know Eva?” The words come out sassy. And honestly if i wasn’t hyper aware of the fact that we’re on school grounds I’d slip in a swear word.

“Well a week ago I was out in Boston shopping with Matt and Nick and this girl came up to me asking for my jacket since she was cold. Just out of nowhere” he starts to rant again, but I don’t even have half the mind to interrupt him.

After all, this felt like two of my separate worlds were colliding. And I didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t seem to dislike her like I did, wich only made me despise her more.

“And you gave it to her? A stranger?” I raise an eyebrow a huff leaving my lips.

I sound more sassy than I intend to, but I can’t help it.

Students walk past us slowly. Being in a private school most people loved it here. They weren’t pushing to leave.

We stand at the side of the main entry, still inside.

“Yeah. She asked for it” he sasses back, matching my attitude. Yet his smile stays big on his face and I could tell he wasn’t serious.

“What if she stole it?” I roll my eyes looking back up at Chris who had a few inches on me.

“That’s what I said too.” He agrees dramatically. “So she offered to give me her snap and told me she’d give it back to me next opportunity she got.”

That seems a bit dumb to me. She’s rich, she could just buy a new jacket if she’s outside and cold.

“You’ve been talking?” I question. I cringe slightly at the jealous tone lacing my words but Chris doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Yeah” he chirps back happily.

Oh so now they were snapping too?

He sticks out like a sore thumb. The way he carries himself, the way he smiles and acts, is just a dead giveaway that he does not go to a private school. Let alone, the fact that he’d not wearing a uniform like everyone else walking out right now.

Some people give us weird looks, but most don’t even care.

I purse my lips, if my day hadn’t been bad already, it was definitely ruined now.

The problem wasn’t that he had friends, other than me. But the fact that I knew her and knew how much of a Bitch she is, and how he can’t realize that.

The fact that he knew that she goes to my school, and that i probably know her, But didn’t even bother to mention it to me.

“You know what class she has right now?” He asks me. He actually has the nerve to.

“No.” I roll my eyes. Honestly I couldn’t care less. I only share that one class with her.

I turn on my heel to walk away, but before I can he grabs my elbow pulling me back slightly.

“Please don’t leave?” He asks sweetly.

I huff yanking my arm out of his grasp. Sure it could be awkward standing in front of the main door, obviously not going to this school looking like a lost puppy. But it’s Chris, he’ll survive.

“Chris, I have shit to do”

that’s a lie. I don’t have anything planned today. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

“Pretty please??” I huff turning back around. I stand next to him, my arms crossed as I scan the people leaving the building.

“Cute uniform you got there.” He says licking his lips slightly as he looks over my body.

I was wearing the green plaid skirt. And a basic white, collared button down. Along with the schools signature green cardigan and the tie.

I had so many layers on it was crazy. Since it was a more chilly day in Boston I had my tights on, but under the tights I had Thermo leggings on to keep me warm.

Honestly if people at public schools think the dress code is strict they should go to a private school for a day.

Once three buttons from the top of my collared shirt were unbuttoned and I was dress coded for it.

Atleast the skirt wasn’t horrendously long.

It could still be considered a mini skirt if you squint.

“You say that every time you see me in it” I scoff. I can’t help the fact I’m being sassy, I’m just in a horrible mood.

“I mean it.” He answers.

But before i can respond I hear an annoying voice from in front of me. “Hey Chris.” I turn my head to look at Eva.

The bitch is smiling wide. She was wearing the khaki skirt and the navy blazer with the black tights.

I purse my lips. God I wish I could dress however I want to for school.

“Hi Eva.” Chris greets her with a hug.

I physically try to hold back a scowl. They talk about something and I drown Out Eva’s pitched, bitchy tone.

Of corse Chris wouldn’t pick up on the flirting. But I see the way she smiles at him. The way her eyes trail over his face and linger at his lips for too long.

And I don’t know why I’m getting all territorial, but I guess I’m scared that Chris won’t have time to hang out anymore if he starts dating.

Either that or I just know how much of a bitch she is and I could treat him better than she ever could.

“Y/n this is Eva, Eva this is y/n” Chris makes us shake hands. He introduces us like we don’t know each other.

She chuckles at the silly gesture. She doesn’t hate me and I don’t hate her either. I just don’t like her, and the way she acts.

I’m rich, sure. And I’m more wealthy then her, but atleast I don’t act like a brat.

We start to walk, with them chatting, and me just trailing behind them.

We get to Eva’s car, she’d said something about driving him home or something. Does this girl know he lives like more than 40 minutes away?

My skin crawls at the thought of them being together in her car for that long. All alone.

“Chris come here” I wave him over for a second. Eva doesn’t question it instead going on her phone.

He walks over to me. I grab him by the shoulder to pull him down as I whisper in his ear. “You always pick the worst people to befriend.”

I let go of him. He groans rolling his eyes. His past two friendships with girls he befriended had ended horribly. But it was so predictable.

“Y/n/n. Come on” he scoffs. I turn to walk away to my own car to drive home.

Until he grabs my arm again pulling me back. “Can we talk.” He mumbles his arms wrapping a round my torso his chest pressed against my back.

“Not now.” I huff pushing myself off of him slightly. He wasn’t holding me tightly so I get out of his grip fairly easily.

“Y/n” he huffs.

“Don’t start.” I sass at him. I clench my jaw. I feel disappointed but not surprised. Eva wasn’t the type to show guys she’s interested in just how bitchy she really is.

“I gotta go, have fun.” I smile at him sarcastically. I let my smile drop as fast as it had appeared finally walking away from them.

But when I glance over my shoulder he’s already standing next to her smiling down at her.

★ ★ ★

The whole week after she found out I knew him, she’d constantly call him, and be around me and tell me stuff about him as if I didn’t know.

She’d sho me pictures of them together, she’d tell me jokes that I’ve heard before.

It was just the same old recycled bullshit.

He’d told her that we’ve known each other for basically forever. Why the hell was she talking to me like I didn’t know him?

That weekend I went over to the triplets house like I usually do, ready to sleepover.

I was in nicks bedroom talking to him.

“God, Chris always has terrible friends. And he needs to stop talking to everyone he sees.” Nick says with an eye roll.

This was our weekly complaining session.

“I know right, he befriended some girl from my school-“ I’m cut off by Nick.

“Eva?” I nod.

“I met her a few days ago and she’s so annoying.” He agrees slapping my arm a few times as he gets worked up.

“Right.” I scoff agreeing with him.

“And she totally has a thing for Chris.” He rolls his eyes hard.

I purse my lips. Good to know that I’m not delusional and that someone else sees it too.

After that the conversation topic shifts until Nick is ranting about some random TikTok song, and about how it’s obviously written to go TikTok viral and whatnot.

★ ★ ★

“Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” Nick asks, lying flat on his back, on his bed.

I slept over almost every weekend. And usually I’d rotate between whose bed space I’ll take up.

It is Friday, I always come over Friday after school. And then I stay until Sunday. And Sunday afternoon I go back home.

I always stay over on the weekends unless I have like an upcoming exam or something.

“Uhm.” I pause. I should sleep in Matt’s room tonight. But I want to talk with Chris more.

“Chris” I state. Nick doesn’t even question it.

The last time I’d slept over was over a month ago. and while sure, we did hang out in the past month, I spent all my weekends studying.

Nick had no mind to question me. He couldn’t care less. I could tell he’d missed me, and knowing I was sleeping over was comforting no matter where I slept.

We talk for a bit more until I stand up and pick up my overnight bag. I hug Nick and tell him I’m gonna head to Chris’ room.

We really need to talk about making good friends, and who to not befriend.

Because it keeps happening that Chris will pick out the shittiest people to befriend. And god it’s so irritating having to listen to him complain after they ‘betray’ him.

I walk upstairs to Chris’ room and unceremoniously swing the door open.

Once the door opens I’m immediately greeted with the sight of the pale pink LED’s on. There he was laying on his bed laying ON his side his phone up to his face.

“Oh hi y/n” he smiles at me briefly before going back to staring at his phone.

Chris usually called me any nickname under the sun before calling me my actual name.

Eva’s piercing voice echos out of the phone speakers making my expression sour immediately.

“Hi y/n” she says loudly. I can’t help the eye roll.

“Chris.” I hiss under my breath my eyes narrowed in a glare. He glances back at me his lips pursing in mild annoyance.

He tells her he’s got to go and that he’ll call her back. Chris then hangs up, slightly sitting up, his back pressed against his head bored.

I walk in fully, now closing the door behind me.

I put my overnight bag on his desk.

“I think she likes you.” I say simply my lips tugged into a straight line.

He huffs a laugh as if he thinks I’m joking.

I look over my shoulder, observing the grey sweatpants and white wife beater combo.

He crossed his arms staring back at me.

“I’m dead serious.” I say flatly. “Ever since she found out that I know you, she’s been coming to me in breaks and talking about you like I give a fuck.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek his expression falling flat “you’re serious?” He asks his voice painfully monotone.

“Of corse you didn’t realize” I roll my eyes turning back to look at my backpack.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes. I grab my make up bag that I always had in his room and I walk out the room to the bathroom to take off my make up.

After a few minutes I come back to see him on his phone again.

“Shit you’re right.”

Chris breathes out not even looking at me just saying that. He was going through previous messages only now seeing the underlying flirtation in her choice of words.

I raise my eyebrow at him before it registers what he is saying.

“I know” I say simply.

“How do I let her down slowly?” He asks his eyes finally going up to meet mine. His blue eyes only seem more exaggerated under the pink LED lights.

Before walking away from the door I lock it, he sends me a questioning glance but ultimately doesn’t say anything.

“You know, like how do I tell her I’m not interested, without saying that?” He adds still looking at me.

I walk up to the side of his bed.

I then roll my eyes getting on the bed. I sit next to him my back against the headboard as well.

We’re both quiet, the air in the room thickening. I can practically feel my skin burning up.

“How about you make a bold statement?” I break the silence after a moment.

Before he can respond I turn and get on his lap. My eyes are dark as I Simply sit on his thighs.

His hands go to my waist out of instinct. My arms wrapping around his neck.

He huffs out a breath his cheeks tinted a slight red. “What? you wanna make a sex tape or something?” He rolls his eyes.

I roll my eyes back at him. “That would be bold, but I don’t want her to see your dick.”

“Ooh possessive?” He teases. Chris unconsciously squeezes my side making me whine under my breath.

He chuckles at the sound, but before he can comment on it I’m speaking again. “I was thinking hickey , but if you want to fuck so bad then-“ I cut myself off.

“We can do both” he assures.

I lick my lips. And before I know it I move his face with my hand tilting his head to the side. My lips touch his jawline. I kiss down his jawline to his neck before I start to suck harshly.

He lets out a harsh breath his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Easy ma, you got all the time In The world.”

Ma. I genuinely don’t know where he heard that, but at some point he just started calling me ma or mama.

Like I said, he used every pet name under the sun, before saying my actual name.

I pull away for a second my eyes scanning the small purple bruise on his neck.

“No.” I breathe out harshly before starting to peck his neck again. Until I bite down, relatively low on his neck close to the other hickey.

I bite hard, making sure my teeth print would be there while also sucking another hickey into his skin.

He hisses at the harsh feeling, his hands clenching and unclenching on my waist. He doesn’t stop me tho. Quite contrary, I hear a few whines leave his mouth. His sounds sounding borderline like moans.

I pull away admiring his neck.

I move the strap of his wife beater to the side, kissing down his collarbone. I suck more marks into his skin, until I deem it enough.

“You wanna tap this, handsome?” I tease , my eyes meeting his pale blue ones.

His eyes are half lidded and his pupils blown out in pleasure.

It’s really late by now. It’s dark outside. And the light pink LED lights make his blue eyes look even bluer.

“Please?” He asks sweetly his tone feigning innocence.

I can feel the hardness press up against my clothed core. I grin back at him, my eyes dark in lust and half lidded like his.

I cross my arms and tug off my t shirt. I throw it to the ground, letting Chris Bask in the sight of my bra covered chest.

The lust radiating off of him only seems to double.

“So pretty.” He coos. And before I know it he’s leaning forward and kissing my chest.

He glances up at me through his lashes and mumbles against my skin. “Can I leave hickeys too?”

I chuckle at the question. It really didn’t matter for me. My schools dress code is strict and I would have to cover them up anyway.

“Under the neckline” I nod simply. And before I realize it he’s sucking on the tender skin of one of my boobs.

He licks and sucks at the skin, half my boob covered in his saliva now.

I tug in his top. He groans against me, obviously not wanting to pull away. But he eventually does, I pull the wife beater over his head and throw it to the floor.

His hand goes up to cup my other boob while he kisses down from my collarbone to my chest and then sucks another hickey at the top of it.

I card my hand through his hair while I don’t bother pulling him off. He lets me stroke his hair moaning into my skin.

He pulls away, his eyes even darker than before. his hair now messy as well.

I get off of him. He groans at the loss of contact. I can see he’s about to complain. But before he can, I start to undo my pajama pants and slide them down.

My black lacy thong and my black lacy bra match.

Chris had made fun of me for wearing such ‘slutty’ underwear before. After all whenever I showered here I left some of my clothes, namely my underwear, here.

I had my own little section in Chris’ closet filled with my panties and bras.

“Fuck.” He breaths out closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again as if checking if he was seeing things.

He starts to shift and tug down his own sweatpants. He eagerly tugs them off along with his boxers letting his cock spring free.

My mouth quite literally waters at the sight of his hard dick lying flat against his stomach.

He lays down flat on his back looking to his side to look me in the eyes.

“Please ride me ma.”

He says in such a pleading and whiny tone, how could I say no to that.

I walk past his bed to his desk and pick up my phone from where I’d put it.

I walk back tugging the thong off swiftly. I get on top of him straddling his torso. I grind myself against his dick, feeling it glide between my wet folds.

I tug on my bra trying to get it off. And when I finally do, it’s also discarded quickly.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous mama.” He sighs looking at my boobs, both of them having small hickeys on them.

He puts his two hands on my waist lifting me slightly. He trails one hand down to my folds examining my pussy.

I feel him push his middle finger into my cunt abruptly to wich I moan.

He hums as if he was thinking. “So tight baby.” He coos his second hand on my waist caressing my skin gently.

“Gotta stretch this pussy out. We don’t want it to tear do we?” Chris asks sarcastically, obviously joking.

I lick my lips and let out a dry chuckle. His girth really did look painfully big. Atleast for what I was used to.

It wasn’t like he was that big, but it was definitely well above average.

I hand him my phone so he can start recording and that’s just what he does. He uses his hand from my waist to film this.

The camera pointing right at my pussy. He pushes a second finger in, briefly finger fucking me and scissoring his fingers to stretch me more.

“So fucking soaked.” He groans under this breath.

Chris takes his fingers out of me grabbing his hard dick and jerking it for a second. I lift myself and he positions it at my cunt, while also making sure to keep the camera at the right angle.

I push myself down letting out a breathy moan.

His hand, that’s not holding my phone, goes to my waist to steady me.

I suddenly push myself down on him completely. I whine loudly, my body jerking forward at the impact. He groans at the feeling of being balls deep in me.

“You okay?” He asks rubbing my waist gently in comfort.

“Yea” I breathe out my eyes closing as I try to get used to the feeling.

My legs are already numb and I’m already questioning why I’m on top.

I start to slowly bounce myself on him. He watches through my phone, his eyes glued to where we connect, seemingly fascinated by the sight.

“So tight for me.” He breaths out harshly trying to hold back loud groans. He was painfully aware of the fact that his siblings and parents were home.

I start to bounce on him more listening to him shower me in praises and compliments.

“Fuck.” His eyes stay trained on the phone screen, but he occasionally glances up to look at me.

I start to ride him harder the compliments and praise only making me wetter.

“God, come on, get yourself off on my dick like the slut you are.” He huffs. His free hand lightly on my waist to help me steady my movements.

He tries not to be too loud, both for the camera and because everyone is home.

I lean forward slightly and take my phone from his grasp.

I film his face and his reactions now.

His hands go to my waist slightly squeezing my skin as I start to rock my hips harder.

“Good boy, be quiet yeah.”

I feel the knot in my stomach tighten threatening to snap. The constant hit to my sweet spot is so overwhelming, and before I know it I’m releasing on his dick.

my hands are shaky but my phone is still angled at him, catching his mouth dropping in pleasure.

I clench around him letting out soft whines and moans, while Chris uses his hands to make me grind on him.

After a second when I calm down he grins. Chris holds his hand out for the phone that I give to him. He lifts me slightly to show the Camera the white circle my cum created around his length.

He makes no move to switch our positions so I just grind into him.

Chris turns the recording off and puts my phone on the nightstand. His hands find their way to my hips holding me tightly.

But before he can switch our positions like he was lplanning to, his phone starts ringing.

I glance ova seeing Eva as the caller ID. I roll my eyes. I feel pretty over stimulated already, but I want her to know.

“Pick up.” I demand under my breath. Our eyes meet for a moment but he eventually complies.

He leans over and takes his phone, picking up the call with a frown.

As soon as I hear her annoying voice i start to ride him again, making sure that the slapping sounds are loud enough.

He tries not to groan at the movements, trying to keep himself together.

“Eva, uh” he pauses his eyes locking with mine once more. He can’t help it when his free hand on my waist urges me to go harder.

“I’m kind of busy right now”

But she doesn’t get the hint and questions him. “Too busy to talk to me?”

Fucking pick me.

“Yeah well” he lets out a soft groan, pulling the phone away so she doesn’t hear it too well.

She starts to yap about some unimportant shit. Chris puts the phone on the side of the bed sitting up.

I stop moving due to Chris harsh grip. He pulls me off and flips us around.

I grab the pillow re- adjusting it so the side of my face is buried in it, my ass up for him.

He grins a soft slap echoing through the room. He kneeds my ass trying to smooth the pain of the slap.

He spreads my cheeks and pushes himself back in. He immediately starts up a harsh and fast pace fucking me into the pillow.

“Are you having sex right now?” Eva questions sounding like a brat who was just denied a toy

He leans over for a second picking up his phone. “No I’m not, why would you think that” he scoffs continuing his relentless attack to my sweet spot.

My core throbs around him, clenching to try and suck him back in.

“Oh my god you are-“ before she can rant about god knows what, Chris hangs up the phone.

He scoffs his grip in my waist tightens as he continues to forcefully pull me back on him.

He goes to the camera app on his phone starting to film once again.

He admires the way his entire length disappears into my tight cunt, and the way he has a white ring around the base of his cock from my previous release.

He picks up pace even more, if that was even humanly possible, until I feel like im going to cum again.

I turn my face and burry it in the pillow trying to muffle my noises. Because honestly I’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t already know what we’re doing.

“Close” I whine out between incoherent moans.

“Me too ma. Hold it for a bit, yeah?” He says sweetly his harsh actions not so sweet.

“Where do you want it?” He keeps glancing between the camera and me, sometimes angling the camera to show my back and the back of my head too.

“Inside” I whine. And that mildly catches Chris off guard.

He only picks up pace tho, his palm meets my butt again, in a harsh slap. I moan at the feeling. “Come on come for me” he demands.

And before I know it the knot in my stomach snaps once more my thighs shaking and my cunt clenching a round him.

The Camera is focused on my cunt. His thrusts get more sloppy and messy until he gives me one last harsh thrust.

Chris releases into me, filling me up to the brim and stuffing me.

We both stay like that for a moment to catch our breathes.

He stops the recording and throws the phone next to me, onto the bed.

He trails his hand over my ass and lower back, before gently grabbing my hips and pulling out.

He lets out a breath seeing his length covered in our combined juices, and me leaking.

He pushes me on my side slightly, so I’m laying down fully. I sigh turning my face into the pillow my arm under it.

“You okay?” He asks softly. Chris kisses my shoulder softly.

I just realized that we hadn’t kissed once. This entire time, his lips hadn’t been on mine not once. And I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not.

“ m’ good” I sigh closing my eyes briefly.

I nuzzle my face into the pillow, breathing out. I blink my eyes open again sighing.

I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face.

“Were you jealous?”

My eyes shoot open and I turn my head slightly to look at him. “About what?” I say simply playing dumb.

“Why do you not like her.” He asks again.

“I never liked her.”

“Right, and you don’t like that she likes me.” He states simply.

I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself” I huff and nuzzle my face into the pillow.

“You literally have my cum inside of you right now, ma.” He huffs in response.

I purse my lips burring my face harder into the pillow.

“I like that.” He says again making me look back at him. Chris is looking down at me with a sweet smile

“What?” I ask and look at him from the corner of my eyes.

“That you’re jealous.” Chris replies, his smirk ever so cocky.

“Why would I be jealous?” I huff, replying sarcastically.

“Don’t deny it ma. I think it’s cute.” Chris chuckles. He grins down at me victoriously. He lays down next to me staring into my eyes.

Masterlist

A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. sorry for not posting in the past few days, I was just busy with school and didn't have the motivation to write. Feel free to to send me stuff my req and asks are open <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf

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realcube · 25 days ago

Text

dilf december

day sixteen ⭑ koshi sugawara ⭑ teacher x teaching assistant ! reader

tw : suggestive! flirting, age gap and slight objectification.

it's true what they say about working with children: they keep you young.

over a decade of elementary school teaching had flown by, and sugawara was still working hard at the same school he started out in, meaning he was now considered a senior member of faculty.

not due to his age — after all, he was only thirty-seven — but because he had been employed by the school for a long period of time, not to mention the time and dedication he has put into his role as a teacher, and the countless other duties he had undertaken: school-trip chaperone, choir director, private tutor — just to name a few.

so now that he was regarded as a beloved and respected member of staff, the school board and principle teachers would afford him certain privileges that the younger staff had yet to earn. such as a nice, big parking spot closest to the school; an endless supply of dry-erase markers; extra pto and most importantly, a teaching assistant for his classroom.

although, he wasn't involved in the hiring process, he was told that the school board would do that on his behalf, which annoyed him as he worried that he'd be stuck with some recent graduate who is absolutely clueless while simultaneously desperate to please everyone at all costs.

and you were exactly that. but at least you were pretty.

despite your inexperience, it was still helpful to have an extra pair of hands around the classroom. and it didn't take you long to find the ropes, so around a month after joining, sugawara was able to leave you to lead a whole lesson while he worked on the student's tracking reports.

the children had tided up and were sat at there desks, talking amongst themselves while you kept a close eye on the time. soon enough, the bell rang and you dismissed the class, waving them all goodbye and reminding them about their homework before they all loudly scampered to the exit.

once they all left, you heave a deep sigh into the uneasy silence of the room, slowly beginning to recover from how overwhelming that lesson was. you had been doing festive fingerpaiting art today, and of course they were all extremely excited about it.

you managed to get them to wash all the palletes, brushes and paint cups they used, but the mess they left of the tables was in need of cleaning. you collect a blue roll and spray from the counter, then start to wiping down all the tables. thankfully the paints came off quite easily, so it didn't require any rigorous scrubbing — unlike the play-doh incident.

the tables were designed for elementary school students, meaning they were quite small, hence you had to bend over to properly rub the entire surface. meanwhile, sugawara feigned focus on his reports, while secretly admiring the view of you in that cute skirt. it wasn't short or anything, but it did hug you in all the right places, and your curves were only accentuated when you were bent over like that.

"how did i do, mr sugawara?" you ask, sweetly, still carrying the spray and roll from table to table.

"hm?" he perks up, pretending as though his attention was suddenly redirected from his work, "oh, your lesson? i think you did an amazing job; the kids really seem to like you."

you spin around on your heels to look at him with starry eyes, "really?"

"yeah. you're so kind and patient with them. you also explain the tasks very clearly." he chuckles, standing up from his chair while stretching his arm over his chest, "you're the perfect teacher for them. really putting me to shame here."

he chuckles at his final playful comment, while your eyes are verging on tears from the endless praise from your mentor and work crush. "thank you so much, but i'm only good at my job because you've helped me improve so much. i'm super grateful for this position as your teaching assistant." you speak, the volume of your voice quickly fluctuating with each sentence.

sugawara just finds you so adorable: how you fidget with your hands when you're nervous, your cute nose scrunch, and how it seems as though you can never hold eye-contact with him for more than three seconds. "i think you're giving me a bit too much credit." sugawara laughs awkwardly, picking up his work satchel and slinging it over his shoulder, then slowly sauntering towards you.

your voice shook with each step he took closer, your heart rate elevating in parallel, "i just wanted to let you know how much this job means to me, mr sugawara. it's such an honour to work with you." admittedly, perhaps you were being a bit dramatic for a teaching assistant gig — it's not like he was your karate sensei — but the words flooded out of your mouth before you had the opperunity to think.

he walked until he was stood directly in front of you, painfully close. his face was mere inches away from yours, and all you could do was stare aghast into his honey brown eyes, half-covered by his hooded lids, "huh, aren't you just the sweetest angel?" he says, sugar-glazed voice ringing through your ears like a chorus of bells. his hand reaches up to your face, his thumb lightly grazes your cheek then wanders down to ghost over your lips — and his eyes follow.

then, his fingers dips under your hair and push the strands behind your ear, flashing you a charming smile, "and you don't have to call me mr sugawara; kōshi is fine."

#haikyuu sugawara #hq sugawara #sugawara kōshi #sugawara koushi #sugawara x reader #sugawara scenario #sugawara x you #sugawara x y/n #haikyuu x reader #suga fluff #dilf⭑december

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writing-mlm · 11 months ago

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Hey pookie, can I please request a Damian x male reader where they're enemies/rivals to lovers? Like both of them are the top students in their college and they tried to top the other by getting a better grade and showing it off to the other?

(can I please have soft damian too? Please 🙏)

Summa Cum shut the fuck up [D.W]

Summary: Stanford was your dream and some rich kid wasn't going to stop that, but damn those party lights make him look really nice. Pairing: Damian Wayne x Male reader WC: 5.2k a/n: ngl in the first draft the roommate died and it was so left-field field I had to rewrite the whole thing

Summa Cum Lade and Valedictorian, that was the only option.

Having been your high school valedictorian, gotten into the national honor society, and taking every single AP class you could all four years just for a chance at being at the top. Over seventy applications across the U.S. and every single one had a large accepted letter attached to it. It was your moment— Stanford was yours.

You’d taken out loans for whatever your scholarships didn’t cover, like your meal plan and housing. But it didn't matter, you were prepared for anything and everything. Nothing was about to come between you and that number-one spot.

Until you saw Damian Wayne.

He lived across from you with your roommate's best friend, Jaime Reyes. But the two were painfully different and Jaime would more often than not hang out in the common area just to get away from their suffocating dorm. As such, their dorm door was painfully barren in the hallway filled with decorated doors. Not that Jaime didn’t try, it’s just Wayne would take it down as soon as he noticed. Not to mention Wayne had a thing for glaring at anyone who dared to knock on his door. Never mind that Jaime had been making friends left and right.

You didn’t care at first, why should you? Some rich kid who doesn’t want anyone to steal his valuables. It’s whatever, not like it’s going to affect you.

Until it did.

The two of you happened to have most of the same classes, being the same major and all. And at first, you didn’t pay any mind to him, he was just another one of the kids in the sea of students until the first marking period came around.

And his name was above yours.

You remembered staring at your screen, looking at the 99.7% right below the 99.8%. It was the first time since elementary school that you had come in second. It made this feeling bubble up and you nearly had a breakdown. That feeling was pure hatred. This— this stupid rich boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth was not about to take away your goal.

“Looks like you got competition,” Jaime had laughed from his dorm. You’d only heard it because you needed some fresh air before you tried to scoop your brain out.

“The gap won’t be as small next time,” Wayne replied as Jaime opened the door. The two of you made eye contact while Jaime awkwardly tried to excuse himself to the bathroom.

You’d be damned if you let some rich kid who probably bought their way in be better than you.

You spent all of your free time at the school library or in the common area at night, studying and memorizing. Homework and projects were done in record time and you absolutely used the most out-of-office hours with your professors. All of whom were confused as to why their top student was coming in without needing any actual help.

Test after test, you saw that the top two students were you and him. Your first finals were tough though. You probably averaged an hour's worth of sleep that entire week and drowned yourself in whatever textbooks or worksheets you could to prepare yourself.

“(L/n),” Wayne greeted you as the two of you were in line at the TSA. Break officially started the next day but due to your finals being done, you got to leave earlier.

“Wayne.” It’s a little surprising seeing the son of a billionaire fly commercial, let alone with Spirit Airlines but to each their own. You didn’t care enough to give it another thought. His eyes wander over you and he quietly hums. It doesn’t look like you’ve packed anything other than clothes and toiletries. And your electronics.

He isn’t stupid. He knows you’re overworking yourself to be the best in school. He knows you obsessively check over the dean's list, that you probably have an alarm to make it a point to never drop below the number one spot for the freshmen. Overall, you rank three, which you’ll take. There are smarter people than you, just not anyone in your year.

A part of him wanted to relax a bit, and make himself get a few questions wrong to ensure you remain in that number one spot. Maybe then you’ll ease up on yourself and not look like a zombie every single day. But he can’t bring himself to. It feels like pity and Damian Wayne doesn’t do pity.

Besides, he’s never had someone to go head to head with him who wasn’t almost a decade older than him. To him, this rivalry was fun. To you, it was a means to an end. You felt that deep within you, you needed to beat him. If you weren’t willing to sacrifice your time and energy for that then what was the point in high school of isolating yourself?

As the line moves up, you cover a yawn by rolling your neck. This stupid red-eye flight is worse than any final you’ve taken.

You’re beyond tired and you’re sure your expression displayed nothing but that but you were counting on that nap in the flight to fix that.

Thankfully, there’s not much of a wait as you’re at your gate less than half an hour later, checking in.

“Oh,” The man at the desk pauses as he scans your ticket. You panic a little, did you get the dates wrong? The time? The location. Shit, maybe those hours of lost sleep had gotten to you. “You’ve been upgraded from economy to first class. Enjoy your flight.” He smiles and hands you back the ticket. You thank him and take your seat, silently happy you were going to sleep in first class.

—

Returning to Stanford from winter break, you were happy to be back. You felt wasted— almost hollow not studying at home, as if nothing else mattered except studying. But your family didn’t let you get much studying in, after four months apart they missed you. A lot. And you went back to where your family was from to visit them instead of going home so you were never given a moment of

solace unless you were asleep. Your siblings and your extended family were always around you, asking you about college, how they’d seen your grades, and how exciting it was that you were in such a huge school.

It also felt a little weird without having Wayne there. In a weird sort of way, you missed glancing at his results to see if he got higher than you. To share those smug glances as you passed each other to the showers. Like it or not, he’d become a staple in your day-to-day life on campus.

You found yourself daydreaming about him being there as your family had parties and celebrations for various reasons. The holidays, your return home, and two birthdays happened in those two months you were away from campus. And they were sad to see you go for another four months.

Of course, you returned with a bunch of gifts and mementos from your family.

Wayne noticed it first, he saw you return to your dorm actually looking human. He’d gotten so used to the eyebags and the pain medications you’d take because the headaches were getting too bad, and the early signs of hand tremors you tried to shake off. A part of him was glad you were taken care of during the break, he’d seen a lot of people break down in Gotham for less and just hoped he didn’t have to deal with that at Stanford.

Maybe he just didn’t want that to happen to you.

But he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he watches as you fall into the same pattern. And no one around you seems to give a shit that you’re basically slowly killing yourself. He resents Frankie in a way, as a roommate and a friend of yours, he has the most power in that situation to force some sense into you. Instead, he jokes and laughs at your state, unaware of how damaging it truly is.

“All that studying won’t help you much, (L/n).” Wayne says as he walks past you the second week back from break, two textbooks tucked under his arm and a cup of water in his hand. You glare at him but only for a moment before going back to reading. For some reason, you can’t really focus knowing he’s around you. Somewhere, probably watching you. Hearing him sit a table away, you check the time for the first time that night.

4:34 am

What was he doing up so late? Normally, you had the common area to yourself at this time. No one in their right mind would be awake at 4:30. Maybe he was feeling the stress of the new classes, too. Or maybe Jaime was snoring too loudly and he figured since he was awake he should study, too.

Either way, he wasn’t going to take away from your study time. He already occupied a space in your mind against your will. And that was more than enough.

Feeling a yawn crawling its way up your throat you swallow it back down and reach for your cup of energy drink mixed with coffee when you feel something hit your neck. You can’t tell what though, as the second you feel it, you’re out like a light. You do feel a hand save your head from hitting the hard table, though. But it was the last thing you remembered from that night.

—

“You’re finally awake!” Frankie, your roommate, greets you as he walks into your dorm with a slushie and cupcake in hand. You’re sitting, blinking at the floor trying to remember how you ended up in your room.

“Did I start sleepwalking?” You croak out, your mouth dry and throat tight. Frankie only grins and sits on his bed, watching as your face scrunches at the pain. “God, did you leave the window open again?” Blinking over to the window, you see it wide open and groan, throwing yourself back down to the bed.

“Wanna head down and grab lunch? It ends in like twenty,” He asks, grabbing his phone from his pocket and checking the time. “Nineteen minutes until lunch is over.” So it’s almost three. You’d slept most of the day but it was a Friday so you didn’t have any classes. You didn’t miss any classes, thank god.

Then again, you could’ve been studying.

“I’m good,” Standing up, you crack your back and sigh. Not that you’d admit it, but you needed that nap. “Gotta shower and study.” Frankie frowns, watching as you collect your stuff before leaving the dorm. As you leave, he sees Wayne exiting his room and the two of them make eye contact. He shakes his head and Wayne turns to watch as you leave before nodding to him and leaving.

Frankie frowns as he watches you leave. You’re stumbling and still trying to shake the sleep off, unaware that your left pants leg was halfway up your thigh and the right one was somehow twisted around. He grumbles and rushes to catch up to Wayne.

Half an hour later and you’re inside the library. There’s one seat you’ve always sat at and you’re glad to see it’s empty; seeing as you’d be spending most of the day there.

Setting your stuff on the table that’s pressed against the wall and diving back into where you left off the night before. It’s perfect in the library, there’s hardly anyone inside and the temperature finally isn’t bone freezing or blistering hot. Your headphones are on and there’s no one around, so you’re free of any possible distractions. Not to mention not tired after your ten-hour nap.

About twenty minutes into studying, you can feel someone behind you; staring. But it’s probably the librarian so you don’t pay it any mind and continue on with your work. The feeling stays for another minute or so, and it’s making you a little uneasy, the Liberian would’ve moved on by that point. Hell, you’ve moved on to your ten-page essay, having enough of reading from the illegal copy of the textbook you downloaded.

Maybe you should just turn around. It’s probably someone asking for the wifi password.

Another minute passed and suddenly a slight shadow was cast over your laptop. You can see the outline of the person and go to groan when Wayne sets a cup of your favorite drink and lunch down to your left. It effectively shuts you up, halting the annoyed groan you were fixing to let out.

A nice gesture from him? That’s… strangely nice.

“Thank you…?” Sliding the headphones off, you turn to see him but he’s already walking away. Weird. Looking at the food, you almost— almost smile seeing that the food had those protective films covering it. The film was covered in a thin layer of condensation, having been hot but lunch had since ended. Had he been looking for you all that time?

There’s also a note on it. Grabbing it, you flip it over to read it.

You need to eat and maintain a good sleep schedule to remain at the top.

That’s all it says, but that’s all you need. The paper can wait and you basically know all the material by heart already. A break couldn’t hurt.

—

“A hundred and two. Suck my dick, Wayne!” You grin, slapping your test down in front of him before he can pack his things up. He looks at the paper and then at you. His eyes flicker to the extra credit questions he didn’t have time to finish and it only makes you smile harder.

“(L/n),” He greets with faux enthusiasm. His eyes flicker across your body in one motion that makes it look as if he is looking down at the paper again. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He’s reluctant to show you his score but you had seen the giant red 98 from three seats behind him.

“Just let me know if you need a tutor,” Taking the paper back you wiggle it in his face one last time before leaving him alone and you hear him scoff as you walk off to your next class.

It’s mid-February now and while California doesn’t get as cold as the more Northern states, it is a little chilly especially now that it’s started to rain.

There’s not much wind, surprisingly enough, so you’re able to keep your umbrella stable as you wait for the campus bus to arrive. While you’re waiting, listening to some music and enjoying the clouds as they roll by, Wayne walks over. He doesn’t say anything, but he stands next to you.

His hood is wet and he doesn’t have an umbrella, but he’s far from affected by it. You guess Gotham is normally colder than SanFran, plus you heard it rains a lot there. Actual acid rain. But you doubt that.

“If this is you asking for me to tutor you…” He glares at you and then rolls his eyes.

“I’m the last person on this campus in need of a tutor.” He snips, his posture getting a little straighter as he speaks.

“And the only person who needs an umbrella.” You chide. He doesn’t argue that fact and you look down the road. The bus isn’t even in sight, and he’ll probably catch a cold if he doesn’t get dry soon. But if he’s sick he can’t do well— no, you need him at his best. Winning because your opponent cannot put their best foot forward isn’t winning.

That’s probably why he’d given you the food.

Internally, you sigh and step closer to him. Just enough that the both of you are covered by the umbrella.

“Thanks,” He mutters, pulling his wet hood down. The red Stanford hoodie is absolutely drenched but it’ll dry soon. Hopefully faster than the cold bus. His hair is a little wet, too. You never noticed the curl to his hair before. It looks nice. You hum and scroll on your phone with your free hand.

“By the way,” He starts after five minutes of silence between the two of you. “I got a hundred on Professor Guetta’s exam.” The two of you have that professor, but not at the same time. Gritting your teeth, you have half a mind to move your umbrella but decide against it.

“Don’t let it go to your ego, Wayne.” You’d gotten a 98, never mind the fact that you overslept and missed a good ten minutes and never got to finish the exam.

“Never, (L/n).” He hums as the bus finally pulls up.

Shutting the umbrella, you all but push past him to get inside and away from him. Never mind the fact that you can hear him snickering quietly.

—

“99.” Wayne shows you his paper before you can even stand up. You stare at the paper and sigh. The two of you had been having this feud for two years now. One might think that as juniors in college, you’d give it a rest, maybe finally relax and actually put this… academic one-upping a rest. And you almost did.

But going into junior year you learned who your roommate was. Somehow, by some stupid chance, Wayne had managed to be your roommate until senior year. And sure, you could ask to be transferred to a different room but it’s about the principal. If you ask to be moved then he won. And he wasn’t about to win against you— at anything. Which is why you always wake up at five in the morning. Thirty minutes before he does. It used to be later in the day, but he started waking up earlier just to spite you.

And you’re too prideful to let that happen.

“Same,” Showing him your paper, he grabs it and flips through both of them. You watch, trying to find the question the two of you had gotten wrong. Apparently, it was the same question. It makes you feel a little better, knowing it was probably an advanced question meant to trick students.

He hands you the test back and you stand up.

“Won’t happen again, though.” You say as you slip the paper into your bag. He watches and cringes— don’t you have a folder for fucks sake?

“Because I’ll get better marks than you, yes.” He adds and you suck your teeth, looking up at him.

“Just worry about making sure your pretty face doesn’t get wrinkles, Wayne.” You tease and catch up to Frankie and Jaime at the door. They actually still lived on the same floor as the two of you, so you hung out whenever you weren’t studying. Which, admittedly, was less these days. Sometime during finals freshman year, you’d overworked yourself to the point of almost developing hypertension.

Frankie greets you first, offering you one of the donuts he’d stolen from his job. Jaime waves, his mouth too filled with his own donut to say anything.

“Some of us are heading to that secret tunnel under the south side of campus,” Frankie explains as the three of you walk to the courtyard for your hour-long gap. Wayne has a class, though. So he doesn’t join— not that he ever would, but sometimes Jaime offers. “Caddie, that Kappa Alpha Theta girl who’s majoring in political science—“

“Your ex-girlfriend,” You add and he huffs.

“That too. She managed to get access to that tunnel and is planning a party. Booze provided. Friday night.”

“I dunno,” You frown, using your jacket as a blanket to lay your head on. “I got a pretty shit grade for the last test in Jenkins class and I gotta study.” The two sigh loudly and you roll your eyes.

“You gotta study every single day!” Frankie reminds you, holding his phone above your face so you can see Caddie’s Instagram story. “One little party won’t hurt.” Looking at Jaime, you see

him pleading and let out a grumbled “Fine.” that the boys cheered at.

“What did you get anyway?” Jaime asks once they stop cheering.

“Lemme guess,” Frankie grins. “You finally got a 60?” You’d actually kill yourself.

“No,” Rolling your eyes, you stare at a cloud that’s shaped oddly like a dog shitting. “I got a 90.”

“I fucking hate you.”

—

Friday rolls around and Frankie all but breaks your door down as you’re getting some last-minute work done. Nothing major, just some homework you’d been putting off and finally got to it with your downtime.

“Does your incessant knocking ever work?” Wayne asks when he opens the door after two minutes of the knocking. He doesn’t say anything but it reminds him of his brothers. He’d been doing the same, but you recognized his work as some work you’d completed the week prior. What a slacker.

“Not really,” He laughs, shuts your notebook, and tosses it to your bed. “Let’s go! Jaime has the car.”

“You’re going to that party in the run-down tunnel?” Wayne raises an eyebrow as you rise from your chair, twisting your back to get out any cracks. He’d noticed your outfit from your normal loungewear but didn’t think anything of it. “Yeah, wanna come?” Frankie grins and checks the time. “We got time to wait for you, if you want.” While you hope he doesn’t, you sort of want him to. Maybe it’s so you both will lose time that could’ve been spent doing work, maybe it’s so you can have someone you know won’t do anything stupid at the party there. Maybe you just enjoy being around him. But Wayne looks between the two of you before he rolls his eyes and gets off the bed.

“I’ll be ready in five.”

And he was.

The theme was Rave in a Cave, or whatever that meant. So you were inclined to wear neon clothes or something flashy. But you didn’t have anything of the sort. As such, a pair of shorts and a sweater will do. Wayne opts for a white T-shirt and black pants.

“I won’t drink,” You offer as the four of you get into Frankie’s car. “You three can.”

“I don’t partake in drinking,” Wayne adds as he puts on his seatbelt making you feel compelled to put yours on as well. “Especially in these settings.” He almost physically turns his nose up at the idea of drinking booze provided by people he doesn’t know, let alone trust.

“Respect that, totally,” Frankie pulls out of his parking spot while Jaime plays some music on the speakers. He glances at the two of you but you’re busy on your phone and Wayne is making note of where the car goes to notice. Jaime smacks his arm and makes a motion that makes Frankie laugh.

It’s not a long drive to the tunnel— but it does take a minute to find parking.

“Why don’t you drink, if I might ask?” Wayne asks as the two of you trail behind Frankie and Jaime. They’re recording some videos and taking pictures that they’ll occasionally make the two of you join in.

“I hate the taste,” You shrug. “And addiction isn’t something I’d want to fall into. You?” He moves to the side as a couple runs down the pavement wearing bright clothes and clearly already tipsy.

“I’d prefer to be sober when I’m away from home.” He returns to his spot and his eyes flicker to the entrance of the tunnel. “So my actions aren’t due to an inebriated state of mind.” Humming, the four of you are allowed inside and there are a lot of people.

Half of the student body must be inside the tunnel. It stretches for a couple of miles but gets blocked off by a wire gate. The walls are chipped and almost rotten looking with graffiti and posters messily placed along. There are color lights strung up along the walls and if they went out the place would be pitch black.

The DJ is one of the music majors, you recognize him from one of the random people who followed you when your high school posted the school you were going to. He’s playing some loud ass music with extra bass that makes you cringe.

“Here,” Wayne hands you one of the glow sticks turned into a necklace and you thank him, slipping it over your neck. He has one but it’s around his wrist instead. Frankie and Jaime went separate ways almost immediately— they asked first and you just nodded and went to a corner.

How the fuck do you even act at parties.

“Hi-hi!” A woman stands in front of you, dressed for a rave with a lot of Kandi bracelets running up her arms and those weed glasses. She’s in one of your classes.

“Hey,” You offer a smile.

“Saw you’re nervous! Rave virginity!!!” She laughs and looks along her arms. “Here, this is called a Kandi trade— but you don’t give anything.” She starts to pull off a large red and black cuff and motions for you to grab her hand. Against your better judgment, you do and she does some hand movements before she transfers the cuff to your arm.

“That’s cool! Thank you!” She laughs again and nods, leaving you in the corner to do more trades.

An hour or so passes and Wayne spots you in the sea of people. He sees you have a lot more jewelry on than when you first came and you’re enjoying yourself. Dancing and singing along to the music, jumping with others, and such. But he’s been keeping a close eye and knows you haven’t drunk anything. Not even the water bottle that was offered to you some time ago.

He feels at ease with that and his eyes linger on Jaime. He’s impressed that… bug is keeping cool at the party and he sees Frankie laughing with some of the chem majors by the DJ, requesting songs.

He’s been stuck to a wall for the entirety of the party, he didn’t even want to go in the first place. But he figured it would be best if he did, something in him told him that. And he understood why when he saw your face go from joyful to sour.

His eyes scan the people around you and he sees something yelling at you. Their face was red from the alcohol and the anger they were feeling. He pushes himself from the wall and makes his way over to you.

“Is there an issue?” He asks you, completely ignoring the loud guy. You give him a thank you look and shake your head.

“Just some drunk idiot thinking I’m trying to hit on their date,” You snicker and he raises an eyebrow, seeing the drunk person now tongue-deep with their date. He looks away, almost embarrassed for them.

“How fun,” He smiles and you laugh. He thinks that’s the first time he’s actually made you laugh from something that wasn’t you beating him.

“Wayne, you dance?” You ask as the song changes to something made to move to. He shakes his head, unable to look away from you. “Me neither! But we should!”

He agrees, forgetting his home training and dancing along with you. He’s sure at some point someone will hurt their ankle from the jumping and the very uncoordinated movements but he doesn’t care. Anything to relish in this moment.

At some point the song changes and you're out of breath, dragging him to a wall to sit against. He wants to protest but he sees you’re sitting on fabric and not the ground directly and joins you. The little area is tucked into a divet in the wall, your backs to a cold, metal service door. So no one could step on either one of you.

“Hey, Wayne.” You call and he looks over. His eyes trace over your face as you’re not smiling as hard but the excitement in your eyes hasn’t died out. Your forehead is covered in sweat and he has to stop himself from wiping it off. “I didn’t know you’d be such a nice party partner. We outta do this more often.” You look at him and admire his eyes. In truth, you’ve never given him a real look before.

Sure, you know his eyes are green. But you never noticed how green, or how in this light you can see the rings of blue in them. Or how there’s tiny little white scars on the exposed skin of his neck. Or the scar above his right eyebrow.

“We should,” He agrees and wow, you’re really close. You can feel his breath ghost over your lips. Tentatively, you look down at his lips as he licks them then back to his eyes.

“Should we?” You grin, swiping your tongue over your lips.

“Yes.” He nods and closes the gap. His hand holds your neck and you hold his collar. At that moment, as the butterflies are alive and well in your stomach, as his lips press to yours, as his grip pulls you tighter, you’re so glad he agreed to go to the party. Even happier than this action— that kissing him was a completely sober choice made by the both of you.

This will either be the best or the worst decision of your life.

—

A year after the party, Damian enters the dorm after finishing up his last class for the day. You’d been on your phone, checking up on your internship application before setting it down when he walked in.

“I got a hundred on the fake final.” You grin, reaching over to pull him down onto your bed. He lets you, stopping his fall by planting his hands on either side of your head. He shifts his legs so one is between yours and the other is locking your left leg between his. You’ll never understand his upper body strength, but you’d definitely never complain about it.

“Me too.” He smirks and kisses the corner of your mouth. You frown and grab his face, pulling him in for a proper kiss. He adjusts himself on the bed by moving one arm to slide underneath you and you love that feeling. Your hands slide from the sides of his face to his shoulders, pinching the fabric to try and get it off.

“Lock the door next time,” Jaime groans as he walks into the room. Damian pulls away and glares at him. You roll your head to see him and not very discreetly try and wave him away. “Aye, I’m just here for your charger. Mine broke and you’re rich.” He holds his hands up, showing Damian’s charger and the two of you watch him leave.

“I’m getting the higher score on the final,” You tell him once the door shuts. He looks at you, an eyebrow raised before he gets up to lock the door.

“Doubtful,” He grins, returning to his previous spot on top of you. His eyes scanned all over your face and his hand traced along your hairline. “I’m still on top.” His eyes flicker to yours and you scoff.

“Pretty sure you bottom,”

“Just this once.”

#x male reader #x reader #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you

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mysicklove · 1 year ago

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you walk in on sukuna helping elementary school student yuuji do homework, and see sukuna STRESSING over the kids math problems. straight reading the word problem out loud and curses about how bullshit it is, while yuuji just sits there nodding his head and slowly scooting closer on the chair until they are touching one another. his eyes light up and he is practically vibrating with happiness at the small attention, while sukuna on the other hand is screaming about multiplication tables. eventually the elder ends up ripping the paper while the boy cheers :/

#big brother au #this one is kinda silly #but #real

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amphitriteswife · 1 year ago

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Teacher (and subjects) head cannons!:

(I’m from the netherlands and the school here has a different grading system. Also collage and highschool are one thing. So highschool is 4,5 or 6 years depending on which grade you get on tests and stuff in elementary so please bear with me)

Poseidon:

You would think that he would teach biology but you would be wrong. He would teach Physics or some high level math.

The type to not let anyone in after the bell rings

Doesn’t care if you end up dead in the class you will not go to the bathroom during his lesson

Stands by the door to make sure you put it in those phone pockets thingy

Gives the most homework out of all the teachers

Wears formal clothes, always. Suits, blazer, slacks ect.

You will never catch him on a bad hair day

If he catches you cheating on a test, you can say goodbye to that grade because he will give you a zero.

He does sometimes turn a blind eye if you’re on the brink of not passing and don’t choose his subject. (You do need to be on the brink. So not like a 3 or sum)

Hates electronics so he just wants everyone to use a paper and the book. No laptops.

Only talkes to some teachers like Hades and Thor

Students think he’s either the worst or just eye candy

Has won the the contest of best man titties by students

People actually ended up crying in his class and he didn’t give a damn

Sends people out 2 minutes before the time and doesn’t care if they beg.

If you have him as a substitute you can start praying because you’ll miss your regular teacher

Types with one finger if he’s on his phone (rare sight)

Checks homework. As in not just looking but actually reading your calculations.

He sometimes even grades your homework or puts them for bonuses

He sometimes reads if it’s work time and he finishes his lecture

Got drunk one time during school dance and started breakdancing. Hades was supportive and filmed it.

Hades

Teaches history

Is well with his colleagues and is well liked by students

He’s not strict with phones but please don’t use them in his class

You sometimes do work. He mostly explains and writes notes on the white board for you to write down

Is very, very passionate about certain topics. His favorites would be the world wars and the greek/ roman empire.

Is that type of teacher that you could tell anything. School, home, hobbies. He won’t mind and he’s equally interested.

Has a mentor class every year and he helps them a lot.

His class is very popular and lots of people choose his subject, so popular that people who don’t take it sometimes ask if they can stay and also follow it for fun

Almost never gives homework

He makes planners, notes, power points. Anything that may help his students.

He even lets the class watch films so that they understand it better, he usually choses for oversimplified if he needs to explain the word wars

You can eat in his class as long as you keep it clean and don’t throw stuff

Smells like rituals. Flowers. Very addictive and good. Sniff

Is present at the school dance and school parties. He helps with carrying and making sure the students don’t do stupid stuff

He doesn’t even need to discuss about his students’ grades because all his students do good in his class

Is rated to have the biggest dick by the students.

Also wears formal clothes. So like a suit, but if he crosses his legs you can see that he wears funky socks. Like a bright purple with colorful cupcakes on it or a bright blue with yellow ducks on it.

Gives extra lessons if you don’t understand.

You know how when someone asks teachers about their life? If you do that he gets so happy and explains a lot

Shows pictures of Melinoe and Zagreus from when they were babies.

He brought a 4 year old melinoe with him one time and the class played with her. If she was not playing with the students she was probably in her father’s lap.

He also shows pictures of Persephone. Every time he talks about her you can hear the love in his voice. (I’m Persephone reincarnated)

Hermes

Teaches music ofcourse

You would think that music was easy but it really isn’t. You need to able to read music notes. You get 2 tests, playing and theory.

Helps well if you need assistance with your instruments

Gives surprise tests to see if you actually did the homework

He loves and i mean looooveeees gossip

He doesn’t say much but listens when a student says something about another teacher

Handles the school musical

You actually need to put effort if you want to pass

Doesn’t take away your phone if he sees you with it. Just stares from behind on it until you notice.

doesn’t sent people out of the class, just gives them extra homework

He never, ever stops smiling. The class is being too loud? He’ll sit in his chair and simply drink his tea while glaring with a smile.

Some students find him scary because of how polite he is, because they can feel that underlying anger.

Knows how to make a student’s life miserable if they make his class unbearable.

You threw paper at him and made the class disruptive? Boom 4 chapters done by the next lesson and all the texts should be 4 times written. In cursive

He is usually seen with the principal (Zeus)

Buddha

Geography teacher

Why? Because he often travels for different kind of reasons.

Eating is allowed, as well as chewing gun

Is great with the students and most people just choose his subject because he’s chill

Doesn’t prepare lessons. He just talks and the students get it

If he does have a powerpoint he promotes his insta, tiktok and his snap

Loves to know about different cultures

Had a diss battle in his class once and almost got into trouble

Called someone emo

If you eat in his class prepare to share.

Asks people if they can bring him coffee from the teachers’ room

You cannot tell me that dawg didn’t pull up in Jordans

Is also present at the school dance and actually bribes the dg for some songs

Doesn’t really care if you skip his class. He either doesn’t care or doesn’t notice.

He too has a mentor class. He has private talks and doesn’t mind if you tell him his problems and genuinely tries to help

Doesn’t give homework unless it’s necessary.

Beelzebub

Creepy Science teacher

Got called emo by Buddha

Doesn’t hesitate to threaten students

He never cares if you don’t show up, but he will rat you out because funny

Has been detected to smile when he does weird stuff. Like cutting things open

Is always in his lab and he’s the only one who can enter with a key

Someone made a sticker of his face and the whole school used it, again he doesn’t care

Had like those weird pots with stuff in it

Doesn’t allow anyone to touch them. He does demonstrate stuff if you ask nicely

Let’s you go early but it’s not in a nice way. He’ll only do it because he doesn’t want to teach anymore for the day

Doesn’t even go to lunch, he just remains in his lab

He only goes to halloween parties

Cyberbullies people. Teachers and students included

Runs the anti *insert school* accounts

Will not care if the school burns down. He hates everyone and everything. Except Hades, because he’s cool

Doesn’t care if you eat or drink. (He may or may not have put something in it for his experiments)

‘Students are like little monsters’ is his motto. He’ll treat them like it too

If you fail his tests he’ll sometimes give you one to retake

Thank ya’ll for reading :p

I’m gonna make a part 2. I think. Maybe some with the human fighters

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yeagerfate · 2 years ago

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YELLOW MORNINGS

Summary: Your parents make you ride on the bus on the first day at your new highschool. You soon realize that this bus is full of both kids you’re scared of and want to be friends with. Who’s on it, and what are they like? + Headcanons on what they’re like in school.

Warnings: None. This is fluff and slight crack! Also, reader is a minor in this and Miguel’s is platonic since he’s a grown ass adult and reader’s 15. (Every other character in this is assumed to be either 15 or 16.) Additionally, the sketchbook thing mentioned in Miles’ is a true story. That actually happened at my school LMFAO

Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Miles Morales (Earth-1610), Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, Pavitr Prabhakar, and Gabriela O’Hara gets her own little feature in Miguel’s.

Notes: I’m a bit nervous for how this’ll go, but I’m excited for its reception, since I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone write this before. Anyways, thank you guys so much for all the love on my posts. From the bottom of my heart it means so so much to me. I have always loved writing, but it’s a hobby I’m really shy about. Your support really helps me come out of my shell more, which is greatly appreciated. You all are awesome and I love being in this fandom so much. It is so so much fun!

MIGUEL O’HARA

is the angry bus driver that beeps at you four times despite you walking towards the bus in his direct line of sight. He says “good morning” to you in a gruff, tired voice and tells you to just sit down and not cause trouble. As you walk in the aisle of the bus, you can see his daughter in the front seat right behind his, wearing the school uniform for the private elementary school down the street from your high school. She’s sipping on apple juice while holding a bag of chocolate chip mini muffins, staring out the window blankly. When he drops you off at the high school, he tells you to stay out of trouble. The questioning look you give him makes him sigh exasperatedly before telling you to have a good day. Maybe he isn’t so bad?

MILES MORALES

Is staring at the black sketchbook in his hands thoughtfully before he makes eye contact with you. He smiles politely and waves at you, but doesn’t say anything else. When you sit with him, he places the sketchbook on his lap and asks your name. He seems grateful for your presence and tells you it’s been ages since someone new has been assigned to this particular bus. Suddenly, he asks you for your schedule, and is elated when he sees you have biology class together. Though, he lets out a pitiful sigh when he sees who you have for Algebra II. “Good luck with her,” Miles says. “She took away my sketchbook last year because she thought it was a phone.” Miles is always asking you to go to his basketball games on the weekends. He’ll even give you his jersey to wear to cheer him on. Also, if you ever need help on homework, he’s your guy. Especially if it’s math related.

HOBIE BROWN

Has his expensive looking Sony headphones on, and his foot is bouncing to the beat of the song he’s listening to. He nods at you, and waves you over once he sees that all the other seats are taken. You are taken aback by his eccentric fashion style. He asks if you’re new. When you say yes, he tells you which teachers to specifically avoid. The next day, he brings in his earbuds so you both can listen to his music. Hobie is always snacking on the bus, and makes sure to bring you some food too, even if you already have some. Gets yelled at by Miguel for not sitting in his seat (He’s just tall. He does sit.) Even though he’s pretty much always a respectful student, he repeatedly arrives on the bus with detention slips for shadow boxing. Also got suspended for a week for piercing people’s noses in the bathrooms during third period. Oh well!

GWEN STACY

Is quietly scrolling on her phone before she makes eye contact with you. She’s the only other girl in the back of the bus, so you decide to sit with her. Gwen seems shy, so you are the one to make conversation. You quickly find out that she’s a catcher on the softball team and is in a band with Hobie, the kid in the seat next to yours. Gwen informs you of all of the school’s drama from the year before, including the time she got an ISS for giving girls ibuprofen for their period cramps. Regardless of this, she tells you, “I still have it in my bag. If you need it, just ask.” She also sends you the quizlets she makes for the Spanish class you have together. Frequently, Gwen gives you gum, but it is a silent exchange as to prevent the other students from asking for it as well. She is a very generous person.

PAVITR PRABHAKAR

Is fiddling with his bright school bag before he insists that you sit with him. He is a talker, and tells you all about himself. He urges you to join theatre for the winter musical, which is apparently “The best school event of the year!”. Pavitr is very involved with the school, and is the president of the theatre club, the secretary of the choir club, and is starting a culture club this year. He tells you to sit with him at lunch kindly. Though, his pleasant rant is interrupted when he tells you to avoid the lunch lady whose name is Linda. His reasoning is that, “She argued with me over chai tea.” which you laugh boisterously at. Although Pavitr has a somewhat ingenuous spirit, he forges your mother’s signature on a detention slip you got for going to the bathroom despite your English teacher’s hard “No.” He’s always going out of his way to help you!

WHAT IS IT LIKE TO BE FRIENDS WITH THEM?

Miles is known as one of the best players on the basketball team. Even though he doesn’t bounce it in the hallways, teachers are always telling him to put the basketball in his hands away, which irritates him to no end. Although teachers adore him, they always have to tell him to turn his phone off because it’s always buzzing from Snapchat notifications. He trades food with people at lunch and is on the Robotics team. Miles is one of the only two in the friend group who hasn’t gotten a detention. Is the only boy in your P.E. class who doesn’t treat it like the olympics and makes sure everyone has a good time. Cried once on FaceTime with you because out of stress he drew a dick on his AP Calc packet and forgot to erase it before turning it in. Unironically, Miles will play mermaids with you in the pool.

Hobie has both girls and boys fawning over him all the time, and people are constantly asking for his number. Never pays attention in class but passes. Hobie’s a “C’s get degrees” type of person, regardless of how well he does in school. For school spirit week, instead of bringing a backpack, he brings a Walmart shopping cart. Makes people laugh in class, but does it respectfully to not piss off the teacher. Teachers get sick of how often you pair up with each other for group projects but he tells them you’re a package deal and that you can’t be separated. Once you get your driver’s license, you make him check your parking jobs. He proceeds to ask you who gave you your license. Grew from 5’9 to 6’5 in the span of a school year and was always asking when second lunch was.

Gwen wasn’t on the bus last year, so she was introduced to the friend group because of her role on the theatre’s stage crew. It’s how she met Pavitr, who played the leading role in the Spring musical. To her dismay, her hydro-flask always falls off her desk, which makes such a loud clang she almost cries. Gwen’s locker is messy, with little magnets all over it. Has the best handwriting you’ve ever seen. Says random Disney bully quotes like, “I’ll kick you into next week if ya don’t give me your lunch!” when she sees you in the hallway. When she gets partnered up with you for a lab, she makes sure you finish before everyone else so you can just chill. Gwen always gets you a snack at the vending machine before any class you have together. She paints your nails in the back of the class.

Pavitr is a straight A student. People think he’s stuck in 2016 because he still wears those bands that you slap on your wrist. Gives people haircuts during break time, and wants to become a hairdresser when he’s older. During a fire drill he got yelled at because he stopped, dropped, and rolled for no reason. Tears fall from his eyes frequently because he holds in coughs in class. Jokingly put in a quote from the Lorax for his senior quote when he was on the yearbook team but forgot to take it out. His senior quote is, “Let it grow.” Pav fake falls in class but nobody suspects a thing because they think he’s innocent. He screamed with you when he saw a spider. Gets out of getting in trouble for being late because he got everyone Starbucks. (He got you a cake pop)

#atsv x reader #atsv fluff #itsv x reader #itsv fluff #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #miles morales fluff #miles morales x reader #gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy fluff #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr prabhakar fluff #across the spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse x reader

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carrie-tate · 2 months ago

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Okay okay, I see at least one person is interested in my new OC (which is almost like as the previous one lol... But they are definitely from different timelines I would say) so.

(forgive me Percy/Oliver or Percy/Penny or Percy/Audrey fans)

Please love and favor

Riley Ellis Chandler

Muggle-born witch (I haven't figured it out yet, but probably her parents are either office workers, or one of them is an elementary school teacher), Hufflepuff student (because I love Hufflepuff and probably all my characters will be from this house)

Speaking about her, she has a rather boring character, a stereotypical girlish nature, I would say. Feminine, polite, diligent. She needs reading glasses because she (like probably many Muggle-borns after learning about the world of magic) read a lot. And that's why she's well-read (Although she is reserved and does not try to answer all the questions in class, often doubting whether she remembers this or that fact correctly) and her eyesight is ruined, lol

She was a member of Flitwick's Toad Choir in her first and second years. She has a pet toad named Bean... She later realized that music was not her thing and became more interested in the main subjects like Charms and Transfiguration.

In her fourth year, she started a reading group within the confines of her house, reading extracurricular books to those who wanted to read and helping younger students with their homework. In fact, because of such efforts to try to support newcomers in the first and upper years, she received the Head Girl badge in her fifth year.

Despite getting good grades in her theoretical classes, she is terrible at anything that requires practice. That is, flying lessons, Divination (though she still likes the atmosphere of Astronomy Tower), or care of magical creatures are difficult for her.

She most likely did not participate in the events of Hogwarts' defense, but kept in touch with the students from her house whenever possible to know about their safety.

Maybe after Hogwarts, in the future, she tried to work in the Ministry of Magic. But I see her eventually becoming a Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts.

The few sketches I have with her and a little bit about her and Percy:

She entered in the same year as Percy Weasley, so they are about the same age (maybe Riley is a couple of months younger than him), But I see it this way: they met somewhere in their third year, perhaps accidentally paired up in a joint Gryffindor and Hufflepuff class.

But most likely their communication would become closer in the fifth year, since I see that Riley is also a prefect. (And I said that they are very similar to my previous hp oc, Tracey. But I will write about this at the end) So it's obvious that they would see each other more often simply because of their duties. Well, and somewhere by the end of the fifth year they would most likely have... Just gotten together, I think

Most likely, in the fifth year, Percy will appreciate Riley's activity with her reading club, and eventually this small company will be replenished with a couple of students from Gryffindor.

So you understand, I see them as a very calm couple of two responsible people. Where Percy has a lot of responsibility and is more often nervous (because he is trying to show authority), and Riley is more calm, who sometimes lets the students get away with minor misfires, trying to evaluate the situation not only from the point of view of the rules, but also from the point of view of personal opinions

I think it was Percy's initiative that their relationship was hidden at first (in the style of hiding in empty classrooms to just talk about the day, hold hands and be alone. That's innocent teenage romance... There's already a headcanon that despite Riley's short curly mullet, Percy would claim it could still be braided. And since he still has a little sister, he can do it. He probably finds stress relief in playing with his girlfriend's hair... Ahem), so that his brothers wouldn't find a reason to joke about them. I think it was also revealed in the end because of Ginny. Or Ron.

Of course, eventually this will also get back to the twins, and until graduation, Percy and Riley will be making sweet little remarks about their sugary couple. This irritates Percy, but Riley finds it funny.

Riley probably has a generally non-confrontational relationship with Percy's family (I'm sure the twins asked something along the lines of "why would such a cutie choose a stale cracker like you, Perce?") So I think the moment Percy distanced himself from his family, he distanced himself from her as well.

But after the war for Hogwarts, after everything they had experienced and rethought, they would have been able to gradually come together again. Percy would have tried to get her a job at the Ministry, but in the end it just... Didn't work out. Although I think he would support her in her professorial work, it seems that a long-distance relationship (due to the fact that Hogwarts professors, as I understand it, live on the school grounds the entire school year) suits them.

A compilation of headcanons about them that I discussed with @pockysfluffiez

Speaking of my previous OC Tracy Thorens. I think she's more of a Cursed Child years old than a Harry Potter years old, and maybe she could technically be related to Riley. (Perhaps she could have had a sibling, or cousin, who didn't have magical powers, took a new last name, started a family, and Thorens could have been... Riley's niece, or cousin niece)

#talk #art #harry potter #harry potter oc #hp oc #oc #oc x canon #my characters

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itsaspectrumcomic · 4 months ago

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On anon bc identifiable info - advice/thoughts? - This is really long, I'm sorry D: I'm a rambler and all the info is important (to me)

I've always had problems with stuff (according to my mom, "things have always been harder for [me] than everyone else") like I'm always the last one out the door, I lose things a lot (like hats and pencils and water bottles) because I set them down and don't realize, I have a lot of trouble doing textbook homework/notes bc I have trouble focusing

And I have a lot of trouble with social stuff, I never have a lot of friends, I can't keep friends for more than like four years, I feel really disconnected with people and people generally initially like me but like me significantly less after interacting with me a bit

I read a lot, and when I was a kid I would lose all sense of reality outside the book until someone touched me or I finished the book, but I've had a harder and harder time reading anything but fanfic as I've gotten older, and I have a lot of trouble reading very technical/instructions/nonfiction stuff

I have pretty bad insomnia, and spent ~2 years when I was 10-13 ish sleeping ~3-4 hrs/night weekdays and ~12 hrs/night weekends, I have a really hard time getting to sleep specifically - and (tmi maybe tw eating) I've had chronic minor eating issues and constipation (chronic minor dehydration, losing ~ 10 lbs over summers from not eating, etc. like I'm not dying or anything but this will probably eventually cause wear damage)

---

But I'm also a very good student, very smart, generally very good at what I choose to do, I just became a National Merit semifinalist, like, I'm doing "fine". I'm not dying, I'm not failing classes or anything, I've struggled since second semester year before last with getting things done, but I have like a 3.7 gpa rn (I could have a 4 if I tried harder (while I am capable of trying harder, it would destroy me))

I was in Gifted + Talented in elementary school, I'm an honors/ap student (my G+T teacher told my mom that the "gifted" basically means "neurodivergent")

---

I didn't get help for anything until last year, when I kinda fell off (as much as you can fall off while getting a 3.7 gpa ig) and got assessed for insomnia, which I got help with pretty easily (apart for waiting times) which was amazing. Almost went too well iykwim

And I was looking into why I was having such a hard time with everything (social, focus, sleep, schoolwork,etc) and I resonated a lot with autism and some of the feeling very disconnected from society/ other people but I was like eeeh, I'm a teen and idk I'm not, like, having it that bad, so I was looking into more quantitative solid stuff and I took the AQ + CAT-Q + stuff which still have very subjective questions but I tried to be honest and I got 32 (AQ) and 139 (CAT-Q) and 157 (RAADS-R) but like idk I could be biased or misunderstanding or idk

I mentioned feeling like I had more, underlying issues to the doctor I'm seeing for the insomnia and she was basically like "I work with autistic kids - you're not autistic" which like on one hand, you're the expert and I've only really interacted with the internet so idk but on the other, you've spent all of two hours with me, mostly asking me direct questions about my sleep or talking to my mother, like, ofc you haven't seen anything of me. Did I make too much fake eye contact with you?? (BTW if you dislike eye contact for any reason, which I always have, look at noses (my mother taught me this one) or hair (my personal fav) bc it looks like you're looking at the face, but you aren't!!)

this is getting very long winded, I'm sorry if you choose to read all this but thank you it means a lot to me to get someone who knows something's thoughts on this

So I was like "I am having other problems" and she was like "I suspect you may have inattentive type adhd" and I was initially like what?? but I'm not hyperactive. Can't have adhd. What. But I've been kinda thinking about it and lurking at the edge of adhd communities and googling stuff (google is not helpful) and maybe? idk

SO to get to my point/question

I'm very smart. (not tryna be conceited it's just I am) I'm not currently *dying* struggling, though I am having trouble staying on top of classwork

I'm a girl

I live in the USA

I'm pretty good at acting normal, I have a couple friends (one has diagnosed adhd, one has diagnosed autism, one I'm not sure, one I think? could be neurotypical? but she's also like really not idk) (I (only?) have four friends (which is a lot, for me))

I don't know if I'm "adhd enough" (or "autistic enough" if I was right initially) ((or both idk)) to get a diagnosis. I have hypermobility that causes issues with my joints and has led to me not exercising enough and having to quit violin but I'm not hypermobile "enough" to get a diagnosis or help for it (which sucks because it's literally affecting my quality of life, like, I could be an amazing musician if I didn't have this. D: )

If I try, will I get a diagnosis, or will I be "adhd, but not enough"? Should I continue to spend (my parent's insurance) money on this if it probably won't go anywhere? I'm currently 17, starting my senior year of high school. Will things get disrupted in transition to college? If I go abroad for college?

Also, will I crash and burn in college without my mother's considerable support? (tw eating again) I have always had a really hard time getting and preparing and eating food, and without her/structure idk how much I will eat. I loose weight over the summer bc we don't eat as a family much. when I'm on my own, will I struggle even more? Especially trying to juggle food and school and living independently? What about after college? My uncle was fine until he graduated college and now he's alone and a misogynist and mormon and lives with my grandma and seems kinda really miserable except way more hate-filled - am I doomed to the same path?

anyways this is really dark I'm sorry

specific questions for you are:

should I pursue ADHD diagnosis? Autism?

is there anything specific I should mention/not mention/think about?

is there anything you think I (+ people in similar situations) should research, any specific sites/books/communities you think would be valuable?

would therapy help with anything? social, focus, etc. (I have not had a chance, and I have been noncommittal at mentions bc. i strongly dislike people, and talking to people, and emotions ): )

are things in general going to get better, or worse? please be honest, not reassuring

If you decide to answer this, partially or completely, thank you, it means a lot to me to get someone else's thoughts on this, if not, I completely understand, either way, I hope you have a good day :)

Hello! A lot of what you wrote feels very familiar to my own experience - I was also considered a good student but found things increasingly difficult to cope with, struggled socially, lost and forgot stuff, couldn't focus etc. You're definitely not alone in feeling this way!

You are not doomed and you are not your uncle. Things can always get better, even when you're at your lowest. You never know what will happen next - you could make a friend, you could discover a new passion, you could be offered a cool opportunity, you could get the chance to pet a really friendly dog. Life isn't a straight line - you might be struggling for a bit, and then some nice stuff will happen, and then you might go through a rough patch again, but then things will improve again and you might feel better than you did before.

For eating when you go to college - identify the foods you generally find easy to make and eat and make sure you have a supply avaliable for when you're struggling. For me, that's pasta (you can get dry pasta which lasts ages in the cupboard, but you could also try fresh ravioli which has stuff inside like spinach or tomato or cheese so it's a bit more varied), crackers, bananas, and breakfast bars. That way if you can't make a proper meal, you at least eat something. Also try to carry a water bottle with you everywhere (if you struggle to drink water you could try flavoured water or juice.) If you forget about needing to eat you could set alarms to remind yourself.

Side note: did you know that hypermobility and autism very often occur together?

Onto your questions:

should I pursue ADHD diagnosis? Autism?

It's definitely worth looking into - I can't guarantee you'll get a diagnosis because it really depends on the person/people assessing you and some are more biased than others (if you're able to choose, look for people who say they specialise in diagnosing women and girls or have positive reviews from people in that demographic). Personally I found it helped a lot with getting accommodations, people understanding me, and understanding myself (even before the diagnosis was official). I will say it's usually quite a long process so be prepared for that.

Btw, you can definitely have ADHD without being hyperactive - that's the inattentive type which is more about trouble focusing.

is there anything specific I should mention/not mention/think about?

Honestly a lot of what you've written will probably come up in an assessment! I had to fill out a form with info about my experiences as a child and the traits I have now, as did my mum. If you're high masking (basically when you try to act 'normal' and hide your neurodivergent traits) do your best not to mask so the assessor gets to see you as you really are.

is there anything you think I (+ people in similar situations) should research, any specific sites/books/communities you think would be valuable?

Untypical by Pete Wharmby is an excellent book if you want to learn more about autistic experiences. The author is autistic himself and has an engaging writing style.

How to ADHD is a YouTube channel that focuses on coping techiques for ADHD and is informative as well.

I've found the autism communities on Reddit to be welcoming and supportive - you might like r/AutismInWomen which is inclusive and accepting of self diagnosis and those who are questioning.

You could also follow some of these people on instagram:

morgaanfoley - posts about her experiences as an autistic person

_ellawillis - posts about autism and ADHD and their daily life

candy.courn - posts about autism and disability as well as how that intersects with their experience as an asian person. Also has the most beautifully pink house

colourblind_zebra - makes cute and colourful art about chronic illness and neurodiversity

elliemidds - posts about autism and adhd and runs a community called We are Unmasked (weareumasked on insta)

itsemilykaty - posts about autism, mental health, and her book Girl Unmasked (which I haven't read yet but is supposed to be very good!)

Side note: I also have an instagram if you'd like to follow :) I'm itsaspectrumcomic there as well!

would therapy help with anything? social, focus, etc. (I have not had a chance, and I have been noncommittal at mentions bc. i strongly dislike people, and talking to people, and emotions ): )

Therapy can help a lot - with the right therapist! Look for people who specialise in neurodivergence, particularly in girls. The best ones are on the spectrum themselves :) It's OK if you don't click with the first one you try. You can 'shop around' until you find someone you're comfortable with (which I know can be exhausting but it's worth it when you find the right one).

are things in general going to get better, or worse? please be honest, not reassuring

Like I said before, things will get better, and then you might struggle for a while, and then things get better again. It comes in waves, at least for me. I know when you're having a hard time it can feel like it's going to last forever, but I promise it won't. There are always bright spots.

#advice #long post #actually autistic #adhd #adhd assessment #autism assessment #recommendations #ask #anon ask #tw eating issues

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dumb-teambucciarati-headcanons · 10 months ago

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Education headcanons:

Although some of these are canon

Giorno: is still in highschool, but stopped showing up for class when he joined passione. He still makes a point to always be learning, but only focuses on subjects he is interested in. He knows lots of information about the biological world, but has no idea what certain historical figures have done, unless they were particularly interesting to him. Also he sucks at spelling words correctly. In elementary school he wrote a research report on different types of bugs and accidentally released a bunch of bugs into the school and that apparently bothered some of the teachers and other students.

Bruno: he has like half of a middle school education, and his grades were never super high because he would spend time helping his dad with work instead of completing his homework. Up until his parents divorce, then his dad wanted him to focus more on school. But that stopped after his dads incident, and he started providing for him and his dad and protecting him. He asked Fugo to teach him some math, and Fugo reluctantly agreed. But Fugo will go out of his way to try to avoid having to tutor the man because Bruno has a rough time understanding simple concepts and it makes Fugo want to resort to violence. But Fugo respects Bruno and doesn’t want to snap at him because he knows he isn’t trying to piss him off, Bruno’s just dumb as fuck sometimes.

Abbacchio: has a highschool education and went to the police academy. He also has a few basic college courses under his belt. He had a “have to learn in order to get the job I want” mentality towards school, opposed to being super interested in it. He failed PE in middle school and was bullied for it so badly that he started working out everyday so that would never happen again. Also I kinda think he has a photographic memory, which his stand reflects well. He went to a Catholic highschool and his parents were upset that he hadn’t met a nice catholic girl by the time he graduated highschool.

Mista: has a highschool education and wasn’t really interested in getting any degrees, kinda just wanted to fuck around in his young adult years. Math made him cry, and not because he didn’t understand it, he was actually good at math. But the number 4 would haunt his papers. Asked a lot of questions during class. were they ever relevant? No. Did he ask them? Yes. “Hey teach, so gravity. Like what if instead of the earth having a gravitational pull some rando named, uh, Seth did. But ONLY Seth, and everyone was constantly being pulled towards Seth and if you jumped you’d land back on Seth. How would we survive as a species if that were the case?”

Narancia: elementary school dropout. Gets distracted super easily. Would rather do anything but school, however he is very sensitive about having not even finished elementary school. He will pep talk himself into wanting to learn math and things, and then he will start again and will remember why he hates school. But it’s worse when he actually goes to school and sees eight year olds that understand things better than him. opposed to Fugo tutoring him and only having to feel stupid in front of the smartest person he has ever met, like everyone else feels stupid around Fugo too so.

Fugo: you know, the gifted child that went to university super early. Smartest one in the group. He was the kid that would use his pencils entirely until they were sharpened into tiny little things you could barely hold. Also he bites his pens and pencils. He thinks the pencils are more flavorful. Oh and erasers, those tasted good too. The other kids never wanted to play with him because of his short temper, but that didn’t matter because his parents told him that only stupid kids use recess time to play. Classrooms were super overstimulating for him, with that stupid LED lighting that made him feel like he needed to blink his eyes a hundred times. And then doing that would make him feel dizzy and irritable. Like the lights were the worst amount of bright and the worst shade of the color white, and if one of the bulbs flickered he would feel like throwing up. His parents thought he had been drinking once after being in a classroom for too long, but no it was the lights.

Trish: she isn’t stupid, but she was definitely the type to get others to do her homework for her. Is in the middle of highschool. she would spend all of study hour planning elaborate schemes to skip class with her and her friends. Wanted to go to college but wasn’t sure how she was going to pay for it, her new plan involves passione money. That or she is going to become famous, if Bruno and co. would actually let her live instead of saying things like “it’s too dangerous with other mafia members knowing your name”.

#jjba part 5 #headcanons #narancia ghirga #bruno buccellati #leone abbacchio #guido mista #jojos bizarre adventure #pannacotta fugo #trish una #giorno giovanna #Abbacchio grew up Catholic headcanon #because I need someone to project religious trauma onto sorry #also am I the only one that can’t stand that one particular type of overhead light they use in schools?#I legitimately can’t drive if I’m in a room with those lights for too long #I’m more of a leave the lights off and let the sunlight light up my home kinda person #if the power ever went out at school I rejoiced

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tojisbbygworl · 1 year ago

Text

Open House - Toji Fushiguro x Black!Reader - FFL Series

Summary: Toji was never one to go to open houses; he found them useless and a waste of time, money, and energy. Unfortunately for him, his lovely new wife was adamant on attending. Toji - 29, You - 26, Megumi - 9

Characters: Toji, Megumi, Yuuji

Words: 3,894

Tags: Family/Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Suggestive Content (bcs Toji can’t help himself), Toji’s a Good Dad

Disclaimer: This work is part of a Black!Reader x Toji series I started called Fushiguro Family Life. It's basically a slice of life series with you, Toji and Megumi. None of them are in order and can be read on their own unless stated otherwise.

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authors note: Heyyyyyyy everybody! Very happy that I finally finished this. I love how it ended up and I hope y'all will like it as well! I hope Toji isn't unlikeable here, part of the reason it took so long. Where they live is not specified, but it is heavily based on American culture, so the way Megumi's school is set up is based off of American elementary schools. Okay, I think that's all. Enjoy!

“I can’t wait for my mom to see my project. Ms. Ieiri said I had the best one.”

“She only said that because she didn’t want you to cry like you always do, Miwa.”

Megumi snickered at Yuuji’s jab. They were on the bus finally going back home after a long school day. Him and Yuuji sat together, Yuuji doing most of the talking to the other students like usual.

“I can’t wait for the butterflies to hatch,” Yuuji said excitedly. “My dad’s gonna love them.”

“Butterflies don’t hatch, stupid.” Miwa threw a balled up piece of paper at him. “They sprout.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yeah-huh!”

“Hey, Megumi,” The boy looked up at the seat in front of him. Yuta Okkotsu peered down at him over the top. “Is your dad coming to see the butterflies?”

He was referring to the class project. All of 4th grade was learning about the process of metamorphosis and the school had a raffle to see which class won the opportunity to care for a bunch of caterpillars and get to see them as butterflies. Their class won and their teacher decided to showcase the butterflies at the school’s quarterly open houses.

Megumi gingerly shook his head. “Dad never comes to open houses.”

“But you were the one who watched their temperature everyday! So like, you basically made them.” Yuuji stops his argument with Miwa to interject.

All Megumi could do was shrug before the bus finally reached his stop. They all waved goodbye to him as he hopped off with a few other kids. Walking down the street to his house, the smile that was on his face began to drop. While he loves his dad, he wishes he would be more involved in his schooling. On field trips he saw his friends’ parents be volunteer chaperones and whenever the school had events, like the semester kick off, their whole families would be there. His dad didn’t seem to care about those things. He only ever asked him if he did his homework, only emailed the teacher about grades, and only went to parent-teacher conferences which he despised.

His new mom, you, wasn’t really involved either. Megumi doesn’t blame you though. He’s sure you just don’t want to overstep any boundaries or make anyone uncomfortable despite his bio mom not really caring. Actually, his mom didn’t care about anything he did either. Not even his grades or behavior in school. Huh. Maybe that’s why dad divorced her.

Megumi’s got to see those butterflies no matter what it takes. He should talk to you about it. Maybe he can convince you. Because Mom and Dad aren’t going to be moved.

He sees you sitting in your car in the driveway. You usually do get home whenever Megumi does. This would be the perfect time to talk to you without his love sick dad interfering and trying to get your attention. You seemed to be eating something, so you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. He taps on the door and you look up, frantically trying to hide your food.

When you realize it’s Megumi, you relax. You unlock your door and he opens it up. “Hey, baby,” you tell him endearingly.

He smiles widely at you. “Hey, Y/N.” He looks down at your lap to see a Chipotle bowl sitting in your lap. You were almost done with it. “You got Chipotle?”

“I had it for my lunch but I didn’t finish it,” you explain, taking another bite. “I want to eat it before your dad sees it so he doesn’t try and get any.” Megumi giggles. His dad does have a bad reputation of stealing his and your food. “You can have some, though.”

Megumi hops in the car and closes the door, taking the bowl from your hands. He eats a few bites and hands it back to you. The both of you continue to exchange the bowl, finishing it quickly. It’s when you two are at the last few bites that you speak up. “So, how was school today?”

“Really good! We got our projects back today.”

“The one where you draw the metamorphosis cycle?”

Megumi nods and swallows the food in his mouth. “Uhm, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” You get a worried look on your face and he quickly dismisses it. “No, it’s nothing bad. I just…uhm…here.” He reaches into his book bag and pulls out a folder. In the folder, he pulls out a sheet of paper and hands it to you. Looking at it, you gasp in excitement. It was an RSVP slip for the coming open house.

“You want me to go to your open house?” You ask him happily. Megumi blushes and nods.

“Only if you want to,” he quickly says.

“Of course I do, honey!” You pulled out a pen from your purse and quickly wrote your name. And then you wrote Toji’s. Megumi’s smile dropped and he gulped. You looked over at him. “What’s wrong? Do you not want your dad to come?”

“I…I do. It’s just…dad…doesn’t want to come.”

You raised a brow. “Oh?”

Megumi scratched his head. “He thinks they’re a waste of time. He only goes to conferences and stuff.”

You get a look of realization on your face. “Oh. Is that why I never hear anything about school?” Megumi nods. You become deep in thought and your brows start to furrow. “Hmph. He won’t think that for long, Megumi. I promise.” You hand the paper back to him and he puts it in his folder, just slightly anxious about what the future may hold. But, you were very excited too. You also hand him the bowl to finish and excitedly, he takes it.

Just before his last bite, there’s a slam on his window. You and Megumi look up at the giant hand belonging to Toji. You still looked irritated.

Megumi rolls down the window. “What do you want, old man?”

“Hey, I’m still in my 20s,” he answers.

“Barely!”

“What the hell are you two doing in here, huh?” He asks. He looks down at his son’s hands. He jerks his head to the side and stares at you incredulously. “So you got Chipotle for the both of you and didn’t want to bring me any?”

You gave him a hard blink, still annoyed by what Megumi just told you. “You don’t deserve a bowl.” You say, half jokingly.

“What did I do?” He asks. You don’t answer, instead you goad Megumi to finish it and exit the car. Toji watches his son eat the last bite and smile at him, rolling the window back up and opening the door. Megumi hands Toji the trash and walks inside with his stepmother leaving his butt hurt dad in the driveway.

It’s past 9 when you enter Megumi’s room to check on him. You knock a few times to make sure he hears it just in case he has any headphones in. He does and you hear some shuffling before he finally shouts, “Come in!”

You open the door to the dark room with only his bed being lit up by his night light which you have sworn to secrecy to never tell his friends that he still needs it. You smile at him snuggled up in his sheets. “Did I wake you?” You ask him, already knowing the answer. Megumi shakes his head.

“Okay. Good night then.” You tell him, blowing him a kiss.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he tells you, ready to whip out his switch that was hiding under his pillow when the door closes. “Oh, wait, Y/N?”

You enter back into the doorway. “Yes?”

Megumi hesitates to ask you, but he gathers up his courage. “Is dad really going to come to the open house this time?” he asks.

He relaxes when you give him your sweet smile. “I promise he will,” you tell him.

With that Megumi nods and turns over leaving you to close his door and head to your own room, already knowing Toji’s going to have a time trying to wake him up tomorrow. He really thinks he’s slick pretending that he doesn’t play on his switch when he should be asleep, but you can always tell when he wakes up the next day, groggy as all hell, looking like he could drop any minute.

When you finally enter your room, your darling husband is there to await you. His large body is spread across the bed, waiting for you to get in with him. He grins at you with his hands behind his head shifting his lower body down. “Hey, beautiful,” he winks at you stupidly.

Whereas any other day you would fall for his charm, you were not amused by him. You ‘hmph’ and walk to the other side of the bed where you use all your strength to throw the rest of his big body ass on the opposite side and fall into the mattress. Toji, who was finally fed up with the animosity you’ve been having towards him all day, sits up and looks at you.

“Okay, what’s the problem?” he asks. “You’ve been mad at me since we got home. You even let Megumi eat the ice cream you said I could have.” He sounded so whiny, you couldn’t help but giggle at his ridiculousness. “So you’re just being a brat for no reason?”

“No,” you finally answer. You shift your body around to face him and he wraps his arm around your torso to kiss you. “I am upset with you.”

“But why? What did I do?” he asks.

You sigh and sit yourself up on your elbow. “Megumi told me something interesting.”

Toji began to think the worst. He thought the kid had let one of his deep dark secrets slip, like when you still lived on your own and Toji would hang onto his phone like an addict just waiting on a text from you. “Oh, yeah?” He played it off.

You nodded. “He told me you don’t like coming to fun events for school. Like field trips and parties. And open houses…” you trailed off.

Toji narrowed his eyes. “Open houses are not fun. Did he bother you about that shit today?”

You slap his chest. “He did not bother me, he asked me sweetly and I said yes.”

Toji scoffs. “Well, you have fun with that-“

“And you’re coming too.”

Toji’s jaw hangs open as he looks at you in disbelief. “What do you mean I’m coming too?”

“I signed your name up on his little RSVP paper, and-“

“Babe,” he says exasperated. You glare at him, not appreciating how much of a baby he was being. Honestly, if he was any more dramatic it would give you the ick for days. “Come on,”

“Wha-, you come on!” You say disappointed. “What is wrong with you? It’s just an open house.”

Not wanting to argue with you anymore, Toji sighs and gives up. He knows there’s nothing he could say to keep him from going, and he would hate to disappoint you any more than you already are. He kisses your forehead and holds your cheek. “Okay, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

You still weren’t satisfied. You knew he was only saying that because he didn’t want to upset you anymore, not because he had a change of heart. But, you got what you wanted, there’s no point in stretching things out. So you kissed his lips and smiled at him. “Thank you, baby.”

You were ready to sleep, but of course, he took that as an invitation. He smirked at you and leaned in for another kiss which you happily gave him. Then, he took more and more from you, squeezing you closer to him. He moved his hands down your body pushing your torso into his and sticking his tongue in your mouth. You squeal and pull away giggling at him. “Babe-,”

“Shh, come here.” He whispers, attacking your neck immediately afterwards. You stifle your moan by biting your lip. You knew you were getting worn out tonight. Good thing you don’t work tomorrow morning.

It’s the night of the open house and the school is bustling with parents, students, and staff alike. There’s a general welcome area with information about upcoming school events, and any questions that parents may have along with snack tables. You were walking right behind Megumi who was excited. Even though he was perfectly calm and walking leisurely, you could see from the small smile on his face that he was happy.

Toji could see it too. He was walking behind the both of you, not too far away. He’d never seen Megumi more relaxed or ready to leave the house before. It was weird.

Megumi led his parents to the 4th grade corridor where he pointed out various class projects that littered the walls in front of each classroom. “Mr. Geto’s class made this really cool honeycomb project. They were all given a hexagon and drew their own bees on it.” He explained to you. You oohed and aahed at everything he pointed out. He seemed to want to tell you about all the projects his friends made as well.

Before you all got to his class at the end of the hall, you looked around for your giant of a husband and found him practically dragging his feet towards you. You glared at him which made him roll his eyes and pick up the pace. Quickly you looked at Megumi sighing in relief that he didn’t notice.

“Oh, sweetie,” you say to him when you all reach Ms. Ieiri’s room. “Did you guys not have a class project? What about the metamorphosis thing?”

Megumi grins at you. “That’s on the wall inside. Our project was really cool and special. You’ll see.”

With that, you all walked inside and took your seats. Megumi sat you all around his desk, with him getting up to talk to his friends when they arrived too. Yuuji was the most excited to see him. “Megumi!” He shouted running over to him. Megumibarely had time to get up before he was practically tackled. “You’re here!”

The pink haired boy got off of him and smiled at you while holding his arms out. “Hi, Mrs. L/N.”

Miwa rears her head out of nowhere taking the hug you were going to give Yuuji. She sticks her tongue out at him. “It’s Mrs. Fushiguro now, dummy.”

“Don’t call him dummy!” Nobara, who also just walked in, scolds.

“You should hear how she talks to me on the bus,” Yuuji interjects. Megumi, quiet as ever, is just happy to be here.

So are you. The kids are hilarious and make you giggle. But you shouldn’t be getting entertained by a bunch of children, you should be speaking with your husband. You turn to talk to him, only to see him knee deep in his phone, leaning against the chair like no one’s business.

You scoff. “You could pretend to be interested,” you lean over and whisper to him.

“Hasn’t even started yet,” he responds, not taking his eyes off the screen. You roll yours. You guess he’s right, but it’s the principle of it all.

At 8:00 on the dot, Shoko claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Okay everyone, we’ll be starting now so please take your seats.” You give Toji a sharp glare. He glances up at you, rolls his eyes again, and puts his phone away.

Shoko starts off with a welcome and a thank you. From then she wastes no time eager to talk about the assignments and fun projects that the kids have done. She seems like she’s rushing, and you don’t really understand why until you remember the ‘special project.’

“The children cut out, pasted, and colored in the cycle of metamorphosis which they all absolutely killed,” she starts another round of applause which everyone joined in for. Everyone except Toji.

If he looked as though he didn’t want to be there, that would be correct. He did not want to be there at all. He was looking around lazily at all the projects and Megumi’s own caught his eye every time. It was cute…but that’s all it was to him.

He really didn’t need to be here. At all. But you felt as though he did. Why? Why couldn’t it have just been you? Megumi has amazing grades, outstanding behavior, and perfect attendance. He has good friends and doesn’t get bullied, what else is there to talk about? At least, that’s how he sees it.

He’s so busy sulking that he failed to see his wife giving him a death stare. You were over his piss poor attitude and was ready to stick your foot in his ass. When Toji finally looked towards the front of the class, he saw the steam leave your ears and nostrils and gulped. You turned around and whispered into Megumi’s ear. Then, without bringing too much attention to yourself, you hit Toji’s shoulder and walk out the classroom, with him following suit.

The both of you walked a good distance from the class into the hallways where it was mostly empty. You stop to look at him and he leans against a wall. “What’s going on?” You ask him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean why have you been so…I don’t know…disconnected tonight?” You raise your arms in frustration. “What was the point of us coming here if you’re not going to pay any attention?”

He lifts himself off the wall. “You know, that is a good question.” You fold your arms. “What is the point of bringing me here? In fact, I’m still not sure what the point of being here is either.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying that I hate coming to these things because they never talk about anything important.” He finally says. “Just things that they do for fun in class. I don’t need to know about that.”

You shake your head at him. “Why are you so disinterested in Megumi’s schooling?”

“Now you’re putting words in my mouth.” He holds his finger up at you. He thought he was making himself clear, but he’d be damned if you were going to accuse him of being a dead beat. “I care about Megumi’s education, but this other shit, cute projects and festivals, those aren’t important.”

As you try to piece together your thoughts, he finalized his opinion. “Megumi is a good student. That’s all that matters.”

Finally, you let out a sigh. “You know what, you’re right,” you start, shocking your husband. “The stuff on the side isn’t important in the grand scheme of things. But…it is important to Megumi.”

Toji opens his mouth, but quickly realizes he doesn’t have a response. “Have you looked at him at all tonight?” You ask. “Have you ever seen him so energized? He’s happy.”

Have you ever wondered why he thinks you’re so boring?” Toji jerks his head back. Where did that come from? “It’s because you’re only into the boring shit. Grades and behavior marks are boring, babe. Drawing, arts and crafts, games, music, candy, the zoo; those are all fun. And Megumi loves that, so we have to love it too.”

“I-“

“He was so excited that you were coming tonight. They have something special going on that he really didn’t want to miss. Megumi wants you here, baby. And, I bet he’ll be an angel now.”

Toji looks at the ground and thinks about what you said. You were right, Megumi was very happy tonight. And he starts to realize something; he’s only ever seen Megumi’s homework and test grades. He hadn’t seen an arts and crafts project or a drawing he made since preschool where that was all they did. Megumi thinks that- no. He knows that his father doesn’t care about that. And that thought…hurts.

He didn’t care, but he’ll start now.

“You’re right,” he tells you, even though you definitely already know. “I guess…I never liked this kind of shit when I was a kid. I didn’t really have great friends and my family never cared either.” He looks up at you. “I tried really hard to make sure Megumi didn’t grow up like I did, I think I overlooked a few things.”

“But, you’re an amazing father, baby. Megumi loves you, even though you are boring,” you jest. Toji laughs warmly and approaches you. He kisses your lips and pulls you in for an embrace.

He loves you; so much. You’re so caring and mindful of his son. He knew you would be a great stepmother. He couldn’t wait to officially give you that title when you finally said your vows only last year.

“Let’s go back before we miss the surprise.”

You gasped when Shoko finally talked about the butterfly project. They were gorgeous with orange wings and yellow tips, native to the region. They were currently inside a blue tent with the keeper. Since Megumi had the most important job as the temperature keeper, a fact that got a pat and a head rub from his father, your family, along with the Itadori’s, got to go in first.

Megumi and Yuuji couldn’t contain their excitement for a second and had to be scolded to sit down by their parents. You sat next to Toji, a butterfly landing in your locs that were currently Toji’s favorite color, Cajun Spice. One lands on Megumi’s and Yuuji’s noses, making you squeal from how cute it was and leading you to pull out your phone to take a picture. Toji pulls out his as well, snapping one of you before the butterfly has a chance to fly away. Luckily, many of them had the same idea and your hair was covered in them. You were so beautiful, they could pass for actual hair accessories. Toji took a picture of you smiling.

You all laughed when they started landing on him, the entire tent cackling when he was covered with them. His miffed face added to the atmosphere, and you took as many pictures as you could.

When it was all said and done, you all began walking back to the car. You ran to the bathroom, telling the boys not to wait up. So, it was Toji’s and Megumi walking into the parking lot.

It was quiet for a second, Toji thinking about all the ways he could make it up to his son and looking at the upcoming events flier to see one that may interest him. Suddenly, he feels a smaller body on his legs and torso. It was Megumi giving him a hug.

“Thanks for coming, dad,” he says quickly, the sound almost completely muffled by Toji’s shirt. He gets off of him just as quickly, thankful that it was too dark to see his red face. Toji thought the same.

“You’re welcome.” He says back, the both of them hopping into the car and staying quiet pretending the other doesn’t exist.

After a few minutes of silence, Megumi speaks up. “Can this please not be the only time ?” He asks his father.

Toji smiles to himself. “I promise it won’t.” With that, you finally enter the car, the 3 of you driving off happy as can be.

ending a/n: I hope you all enjoyed that! I really wanted to make it clear that Toji isn't a bad father, he does care and he cares in his own way that isn't detrimental to Megumi's being either. And, I wanted to give insight to what yours and Megumi's relationship looks like and how Toji feels about it. The next story should not take as long to come out I promise. Y'all don't understand this one was MONTHS in the making I started this series in March LMAOO! Also, I've went ahead and made a form to sign up for the taglist. It'll be open probably indefinitely as I don't see myself officially stopping the series anytime soon. If there's ever a hiatus, it'll be because I need to think of more ideas.

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#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #Toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x black reader #toji fushiguro x black reader #toji fushiguro x reader #black reader #toji fluff

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