#i got so so lucky that my gym teacher my last year of school was really cool and let us set our own goal and find our own way to achieve it
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my school had pedometers everyone was required to wear, and you had to get over a certain number of steps in order to get a good grade in gym class for the day. These things were pretty fuckin' inaccurate, but at least all we had to do to (hopefully) fix it was move where we clipped it to our persons.
Thankfully, our teachers had fairly open minds when it came to exercise - we could play games or run laps around the wrestling room or even call dibs on the three exercise bike things in the equipment room - so it was never entirely torturous, but woe betide you if you didn't feel up to getting your 10000 steps in (or whatever the hell the number was. its been years so idr).
Somebody figured out pretty early on that if you held the lid and shook the pedometer so it wiggled back and forth at the hinge (they opened like little clam shell cases with the display inside) they would start counting steps really really fast so at the end of class everyone not immediately in view of the teacher would be shaking their pedometers like we were prepping a box of smokes on the way back to the collection bin.
I always forget this wasn’t a thing everywhere but my high school had a fun and innovative way to torment us in PE. They got heart rate monitors. It was this awful strap that went under the bra line and paired to a watch. The first day was great cause we got to set our resting heart rate. We did this by laying in a dark room and napping.
But then once a week we’d have to strap on these monitors and go running. The monitors were old tech and didn’t always pick up your heartbeat, so you’d have to use cold water between it and your skin to get a better connection, gods know why. Warm water never worked. After the day our watches would be collected and our efforts recorded.
The idea was that if your heart beat too fast you were supposed to stop, and if it was too slow you’d speed up. In practice this was ridiculous, staying in the green zone all class was ridiculously difficult.
Even people like me who were stubbornly resistant to running the mile couldn’t stand the horrific constant beeping and made attempts to placate the reviled machine. It was always fairly miserable. I had PE first thing in the chilly morning, dashing cold water on my skin before running around half awake was the low point of my week.
But for some unknown reason, the teacher insisted that no play could happen on these days. We were given the freedom to run all over campus but woe betide us if we tried to make a game that actually made this enjoyable.
We’d initiate games of tag only to get yelled at for not just… running. Any kind of play was forbidden. On one memorable occasion someone got a kickball and we started an impromptu soccer game with it.
If someone’s heart rate got too high they’d drop to their knees to wait out the shrieking of their watch so an extra element was added to the game of trying to win without going too hard. I remember being absolutely delighted, the thrill of that game still lives in my heart, hoping I could score a goal before my heartbeat betrayed me to the hated watch.
When the PE teacher found us we were soundly scolded and the ball was confiscated. Our happiness burst like a soap bubble and we turned our back to the enchantment of the green field and resumed slogging along in a grey haze as expected.
#we absolutely dont exercise bc we're all taught to hate that shit from childhood#i got so so lucky that my gym teacher my last year of school was really cool and let us set our own goal and find our own way to achieve it#i wanted to be able to run a mile without feeling like death#so we worrked out a gradual increase in length over the course of the entire semester that would get me up to running a mile#without feeling like inwas gonna pass out afterward#it was actually a pretty good gym class all hings considered#we learned how to *actually* warm up before and and cool down after so we didnt get hurt#and we got to play games and fuck around relatively often. they even had a wii set up in the wrestling room to play just dance
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Synopsis: Physical activities were not something you enjoyed. Never participating and distracting other students was all you did during class; but as soon as the new P.E teacher’s aid catches you slacking, she decides to teach you a lesson. *inspiration: bad liar by selena gomez*
Warnings: 18+, MIDN, F/F, suggestive and offensive language, 80s!AU, abby is 19yo & reader is 18yo, smut, top!abby, bottom!reader, dom!abby, sub!reader, thigh riding, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), after care, T.A!abby x popular!reader
important info about my stories here
©machetegirl109 (credits to bad liar by selena gomez that inspired me to write this) DO NOT copy/steal my work OR post it on any platforms
Word Count: 3.5k+
Oneshot: Bad Liar
❝︎you're taking up a fraction of my mind❞︎
The mid-day sunlight entered through the gymnasium windows just right. The sound of shoes squeaking against the light wooden floor along with vivid and loud voices were present as the ladies played around and talked to each other, waiting for the teacher’s arrival to the last class of the day. The girls were wearing a loose fitting white t-shirt with a small logo of the school printed on the right side of the chest, the low-cut sleeves colored navy blue as well as the matching pair of shorts. Tall retro socks with two blue stripes and a red one in the middle covered their calves, each of them wore a different brand of worn out white sneakers.
Your high top vans tapped onto the floor as you sat on the bleachers, elbows positioned over each knee while you kept your head high and talked to some of your classmates who surrounded you. Ever since the beginning of the school year you seemed to attract other girls. Not only your good looks, but also your “I’m too cool for this,” energy made them fall head over heels for you; making them chase after you every day — The most lucky girls were the ones who also had Physical Education on the last period of their schedules, just like you. You weren’t fond of the class; either always showing up 5 minutes before it was time to leave, or laying on the bleachers while the others runned around and participaded on the sports.
What even is the point of running around chasing after balls? There are better ways to exercise.
“Alright, ladies! Get in line!” Joel Miller, the gym teacher, yelled as he got into the gym, pushing the double doors hard enough to make them knock on the walls, letting out a loud bang. Everyone stopped talking as soon as he made his way to the middle of the space with a tall, muscular blonde girl walking beside him, silent as she observed the spacious gymnasium and all the students present there. The girls that previously talked to you went ahead to join the line that was forming and Joel soon stopped in front of them, holding his clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. The blonde curiously stares in your direction, seeing you lazily seated over the aluminum while the others stood before the teacher.
“First things first, M’ gonna do the roll call and then we’ll go over some things! Amber?”
“Here.” Joel wrote a checkmark beside her name and followed to the next.
“Ellie?”
“Sup’ teach’.”
“Dina?”
“I’m here, teacher.” As he called out each name, the girls announced their presence and he scribbled down onto the paper, eyes never leaving the list.
“Okay, last but not least, Y/N?” Joel finally looked up, eyes going through the line of girls in front of him as he looked for his least favorite student.
“Hey, Mr. Miller.” You called out from your seat, all of those inside the warm gymnasium looked over to you; a shameless smile on your face when you waved your hand.
“Ah, glad you finally decided to join us for class today.” He dryly chuckes, adding a checkmark to your name. “M’ not even gonna ask whatcha doin’ sitting down.” You giggle at the annoyed tone in his voice and he turns back to the other students. “So, from today on we’re gonna have a new addition to the class! I want you all to welcome Abigail Anderson!” Joel points to the girl beside him, who stands proud with her arms crossed and her braid falling onto her broad shoulder. Abby opens a small smile and nods as the girls babble hellos’ and welcomes’. “Abby here, will be working as my T.A for the rest of the school year so make sure to respect her and follow her orders, understood?” The girls nod and let out sounds in agreement.
“Thanks, I'm looking forward to working with you all.”
“With that out of the way, we’ll be playing volleyball today! I want one team on each side of the court, now!” Joel blows his red whistle and the students start to get ready in two different teams as you only sit back and watch. He turns to Abby and begins to give her some heads up on how things work during class and what to expect.
“What about that one?” She points to you, who looks bored as you pick out your nails and talk to Ellie and Dina. Joel blows the whistle once more, making you and the two girls look back at him.
“Ellie and Dina! I advise you two to go play or I’ll give y'all zero’s for the day!” The girls shoot you an apologetic look, wishing they could talk to you a little longer since they were enamored by your charming presence. You wave them a small goodbye and Joel directs his attention to Abby once more. “I gave up on her a long time ago, all she does is sit around and distract the other girls; that is when she actually shows up. Definitely the worst student I’ve ever had in all my 30 years of teaching.”
“She’s that bad, huh?”
“Y/N has an F in P.E, which is the easiest class in her entire schedule… She’ll most likely fail.” He says in disbelief and they both look at you.
“Hm, maybe I can help,” The blonde says, a small smirk forming on her face.
“Yeah? What do you suggest?”
“She can stay after class and do some extra-credit, maybe run some laps, play some volley, just to make up for the time she wastes in class. I could also make her clean the gymnasium afterwards.” Joel smiles at the ideas and nods, patting her on the back.
“Great. You’ll definitely make a good teacher someday, Abigail!” Abby thanks him, and soon they switch their attention to the game.
After 30 minutes the class comes to an end as Joel checks the time in his Seiko Diver wrist watch. Placing the small whistle between his lips and blowing on it with force, he claps his hands together signaling to the girls that it was finally time to go home.
“Alright , ladies! Class is over, you’re all free to go!” The students drop the volleyball to the floor and begin to make their way to the exit. You stand and stretch your body, a wide playful smile on your face.
“Ahh, thank God, I was about to fall asleep here!” You say walking towards the double doors, but as soon as you reach for the handle, Joel shouts your name, making you stop on your track. “Need something, Mr. Miller?”
“No, but you do. You need to get a passing grade for my class and Abby will make sure you do. You’re staying here until she tells you to go, understood?” Your face falls to the ground as you look at the girl beside him. She’s wearing a tight light yellow t-shirt under a red sports jacket and some white shorts that exposed her strong, pretty legs, as well as tall white socks that hugged her thick calves and a worn off Adidas Top Ten RB — At least she’s cute you think before the current situation hits you again.
“What? Why?!” You ask shocked, making your way towards the middle of the room, where both of them stood.
“ ‘Cause you’re falling and Abby was kind enough to suggest you earn some extra-credit.” You groan loudly and throw your head back. “I’ll be off now. Be sure to behave, Y/N. Don’t cause me any more problems. Good luck, Abigail.” You watch as Joel leaves, leaving you and Abby alone. You turn to the girl, a bitter smile on your face as you think of what to say next.
“Ha… You could’ve been kind enough to keep your suggestions to yourself. I can’t believe I have to spend the rest of my Friday here! I had plans, you know?” You ask sacarstily, as you move forward, chest to chest with her. Abby looks down at your pretty face, a pout on your lips as she lets out a small laugh; making fun of your anger.
“I’ll be kind enough to suggest you keep that pretty mouth shut and run 100 laps around the gymnasium.” A naughty grin plays on her lips as her blue eyes stare into yours. “Now, princess.”
“You’re fucking joking right now, I’m not running—“
“150 laps now.” You gasp and try to push her, failing to since Abby is built like a tank.
“You’re not the boss of me, I don’t have to do anything!”
“Now I am, and yes, you do. Now run me 150 laps and I want you to count them out loud every time you finish one.” Abby states, grabbing the whistle that hangs from her neck and placing them between her pinkish lips, blowing into it and making the loud pitch hurt your ears.
“Ugh! The fuck is your problem?!” You say as your hands go up to your now sensitive ears, massaging them; you throw the girl before you a dirty look.
“The more you whine, the more you run. 200 now. Go.” Hearing the seriousness of her voice, you shoot her another expression before you walk to the side of the court; quietly calling her a cunt as you get ready to run. “I heard that!” You roll your eyes and you run, counting each lap as you reach the starting point before circling the gym, over and over again. Sweat accumulates around your forehead as your body begins to feel warm and tired, your legs ache as tremble and all Abby does is stand there, staring at you. Soon you reach the 200 count. You stop running and you press your hands on top of both knees, your chest rising fast as you catch your breath.
“I-I’m fucking done now.” You shout and close your eyes, thanking the Gods you can finally go home now. Abby laughs and you look at her, not sure of what is so funny.
“I don’t think you are. Come here,” She says as she grabs the volleyball that was on the floor. “We'll play a bit and then you're cleaning the gymnasium, princess, you can go home when you're done.” Abby throws the ball in your direction and you shrug away from it, like it was contaminated and you didn't want to catch whatever disease it carried. “You know, if you actually participated in class instead of sitting there n’ look pretty, you wouldn't have to be here?”
“Oh, so you think I'm pretty?” A playful smile makes its way to your lips as you cross your arms.
“If anything, I think you're lazy and a distraction to the students.” She answers you, annoyed by your lack of care towards the class. “Get the ball and bring it to me.” You walk towards where the ball landed and grab it, making your way towards Abby.
“So, you think I'm a distraction because I'm pretty.” You stop in front of her, pushing the volleyball to her chest.
“I didn't say that. Now get into position and play me until you win.”
Abby walks to one left side of the court and you to the right; each of you stopping a couple feet away from each other. She serves the ball and you do your best to receive it, returning it to her as you messily position your hands closed together, making the ball go back to her side of the court. You two keep volleying the ball back and forth, Abby making multiple points while you had the total of zero.
“Okay, let's stop. You're way too bad at this.” The girl says after holding onto the ball for the last time you threw. You stretch your arms, tired from all the movement, legs sore from the running, body sweating under your P.E attire. “Grab the mop from the supply closet and get to work.”
You tiredly nod and follow her orders, just wanting to take a shower to go home. After cleaning the whole wooden floor of the gymnasium, you put the bucket and the mop back to their original place and you walk towards Abby, who's sitting at your previous spot on the bleachers.
“I'm done. Can I go now?” Your exhausted voice comes out as you stop in front of her and she looks up at your sweaty and worn out face.
“Yeah, just do whatever you need to do in the locker room so I can lock it and go home, too.” Abby says, standing up and you follow after her as she makes her way to said area.
“I'm gonna take a shower so, guess you'll just have to wait ‘till I’m done.” You begin to strip your shirt off in front of your locker once you two are inside and Abby sits down, her eyes locked on the ground.
“Just hurry up, I have things to do.”
After getting rid of your clothes you grab a towel and a liquid soap you have in your locker and make your way to the showers, sliding one of the curtains open as you get in closing it again. You turn the water to a hot temperature, taking your time to wash yourself up and let the water fall onto your sore muscles. As the minutes go by, Abby shouts out to you, warning you get out soon or she'll just leave you here. Almost thirty minutes go by and she’s had enough, standing up and walking towards your stall; she pulls the plastic curtain open and you gasp, covering your chest.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell and press yourself onto the cold walls as she reaches her hand inside, turning the water off. She grabs your shower from the hanger and shoves it in your direction.
“What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you who needs to spend an eternity showering?! Go get dressed, now!” You wrap yourself in your soft towel and push her out of your way as you head back to your locker.
“You're such a bitch. You already ruined my friday night and now I can't even take a fucking shower.” You mumble and she stops next to you, watching as you drop your towel on the bench. Abby’s face turns red and her breath stops for a second, her eyes scan your naked body before she comes back to reality.
“Y-you ruined it your own by not doing anything at the easiest fucking class you have.” You turn to her as you roll the deodorant under your armpits. Her eyes fall to your chest, nipples poking out in all their glory. You talk back at her but she hears nothing, all her attention goes to the way your tits move as your breath in-and-out. You place your hygiene product back to your locker, eyes never leaving her face as hers never left your boobs.
“Are you fucking listening to me?!” You attempt to push her for the second time today, but she's faster and stronger, grabbing your hands as she backs you against the locker. A wave of lust makes its way through your veins, stopping right at your core. The sound of your body hitting against the metal echoes in the empty locker room as Abby diverts her attention to your lips. Her blue eyes seem devil-like as she looks at you – Her face displaying a hungry expression.
“I had enough of your bitchy comments today. Let me make something else come out of that pretty mouth, yeah?” Abby whispers, a raspy voice sounding like music to your ears as she gently rubs her nose against yours. You feel yourself getting wet, the between of your thighs getting more slippery with each passing second. You nod your head fast, needy eyes looking back to her.
Abby closes the small distance between your lips, smacking them together with fervor as she lets go of your hands and brings her own to the side of your face; thumbs pressed onto each side of your jaw as her palm and fingers gripped your neck. You kiss her back, licking and biting her bottom lip as you pull it back with your teeth. She chases your face back and her tongue invades your warm mouth; your hands go up, holding onto her wrists and she gently massages the pads of her thumbs onto your soft skin.
“Can I touch you, princess?” Abby asks, breaking the kiss as she looks at you.
“Yes, please do, Abs.” This time, you push her towards you by the neck, press another kiss onto her lips and her left hand goes down your leg, opening both of them apart as she places her thigh between them. Abby moans at the contact of your dripping wet pussy onto her uncovered skin, and you throw your head back as you feel yourself slipping onto her with ease.
As she holds one of your legs, guiding your movements, her other hand reaches your chest, going directly to your nipple. She spits on it and begins to flick it rapidly; you moan as you feel the immense pleasure run through all your body.
“Look at you, all wet n’ slippery for me. My pretty, bitchy princess.” Abby pecks your lips and moves her hand from your chest to your cunt, spreading your moist lips and exposing your needy clit to rub against her skin. You let out loud moans when she reaches to your waist, carving her nails deeply into you as she moves you more violently against her. She feels herself getting wet, too, and she knows that the way you sound and the way you feel will be enough to soon make her white panties sticky with her cum.
As your bud deliciously kneads while you move your hips, you suck the white freckled skin of her neck, causing the girl to close her eyes and bite her lips. You push her head back by her braid and you lick from the bottom of her Adam’s apple all the way up to her mouth; pressing your teeth there again, making Abby hiss and moan.
“I-I want–” You try to speak but your moans interrupt you when Abby takes one of your boobs into her mouth, sucking on it and licking around your sensitive nipple. She lets go of it for a second just to talk back to you.
“What does my princess want, hm?” She goes back to massaging your tit with her muscle, hands never faltering on your hips.
“I want, I want you to-to eat me out,” You blurb out fast, not waiting to wait any longer to feel her tongue circling around your clit. Her breath hitches at the request, saliva pooling in her mouth at the opportunity to taste you. Abby grabs you with ease and lays you down on the bench, ready to have a feast. She wraps her arms around your legs, placing each of them beside her head, making your back lift a little from the wood. You shiver as her hot breath hits against your exposed pussy. “Please, ju-just fuck me…”
Abby looks at you, a needy expression on your face as you stare down at her and she spits onto your throbbing bud; the liquid making its way down to your hole resulting in you throwing your head back and closing your eyes. Your legs tremble and she holds you still, finally diving in. She runs her tongue up your slick collecting the wetness before bringing it to your clit. Abby sucks on it while she circles her tongue with speed and precision; her body taking in the way you taste as your pleasure filled moans enter her ears, making her head fuzzy as she fucks you.
“Fuc-fuck Abs, so-so good…” You praise and it only fuels her more, taking two fingers to your pussy, she caresses your entry before shoving them in. You moan and whine, pressing her head impossibly closer to your pussy; her tongue working on your clit nonstop and her fingers pumping in-and-out of you at full speed. “M’ gonna cum so-soon,” You announce as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your limit, and unbeknown to you, Abby was getting closer, too. The thought of you creaming all over her mouth excited her, making her tongue swirl more frenetic over your clit as her fingers finally reached the soft spot deep inside you — The tips of her fingers pressing onto it made you finally brake, cumming over her face. As she felt your juices run down her chin, her orgasm hit her, too, and she slowly removed her fingers out of you; pressing one last kiss on top of your, now sensitive, bud.
“Fuck, princess,” Abby kisses your thighs as she lets your legs fall back down. “You taste so fucking good.” She kisses her way to your stomach, soon reaching your lips. “You were so good for me, baby.” You tiredly smile at her and she pecks your cheek before sitting back up and grabbing your towel from the bench. She softly presses the tower onto your cunt, cleaning you up as you quietly observe her.
“Are you gonna make me stay after school next week?” A shameless look appears on your face and Abby laughs.
“Oh, I just might.”
ೃ⁀➷ thank you for reading! feel free to comment your thoughts, reblog, leave a heart and follow me˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby anderson x reader#abby x reader#abby anderson x y/n#abby x y/n#abby anderson smut#abby tlou smut#T.A!abby#bad liar abby anderson#©machetegirl109
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Catching Up at the Reunion
I don’t know why I even came here.
The gym was packed. It isn’t exactly how I remembered it 10 years ago, but then again, there were decorations, and drinks, and adults here now, instead of the teenagers that graduated with me. I saw Miss Homecoming Julia, and she hadn’t lost her beauty. Mark, the football quarterback was pudgier now, but it just made him even more rugged looking. And there was Connor, my deep dark crush, whose dark hair and swimmer body had only become even more perfect since graduation ten years ago.
I took another slug of my drink as I felt my face growing red. I felt like I was the only one that hadn’t grown up eat all since high school, my wiry frame was still scrawny, and my face still lopsided. So I did what I did in high school nd jut stood and watched.
“Jake?”
Oh no.
‘Hi, oh, Melissa, right?” I said, mostly just seeking out the name on her chest.
“Yeah. Smooth reading.” She had caught me. “So, Jake, do you actually remember me, your only friend, or is the name tag the only thing helping you out?”
“Melissa, yeah I remember you.” Who could forget her, the spooky Wiccan girl who had been my only friend during high school.
“Yeah? How much do you remember?”
All of a sudden I wasn’t sure. I had id it with such immediate confidence. But as I racked my brains, I couldn’t think of a single memory.
“Why about Chem lab?”
What about chem lab, I thought? Nd then remembered sitting next to her, seeking glances and laughing when the teacher said something silly. How could I have forgotten that?
“Sorry, Mel. Yeah, Dr. Avery’s lab. What a time! You used to make those little doodles that you did in the corner of my pages that you always said would bring me luck. Guess that never turned out my way?” I said the last bit gesturing to my lanky body. A wistful glance across the room to Connor might have been too obvious.
“What? The muscle stud never got lucky? You must be kidding?”
“Muscle stud? I mean. Sure, I was strong, and good looking in the right light, but stud?”
“Oh, come on, you told me how you were trying to make yourself the strongest boy in the school. And clearly you never gave up on the bodybuilding.” She said poking me in by pecs. While her fingers prodded solid flesh, I paused. My clothes were tight. I definitely needed a new wardrobe, as clearly my latest clothes were already reaching their limit. I flexed a bit, and tore the sleeves.
“There they are. I was worried those guns of yours had gotten smaller. I used to admire them sitting next to you. Not as much as Julia obviously. I mean, you got her pregnant with what, triples on prom night?”
“Don’t remind me. But god look at her now” I admired the voluptuous form of Julia across the room. She had definitely filled out since high-school, my triple sons had stretched her out for sure. But she was prime MILF material now, and she clearly had several more on the way.
“What number are you on with her now? 23?”
“Something like that” I said, looking over at my fertility goddess of a wife. Her body was like something out of a kink blog, and her massive pregnant belly simply refused to give up the center of attention.
“She looks satisfied. Doesn’t she Jake?”
“Ooh, yeah, I keep her satisfied Mel.”
“But does she satisfy you? As much as the football team did?”
“Don’t I know it. I had those boys begging on their knees for me.” I looked across the room at Mark again. He was still looking at me enviously. When he saw me looking at him, he glanced away wiping his chin. Caught drooling, again. Somethings never change. The other boys around him I couldn’t remember all of their names. But they definitely looked familiar enough.
“Yeah, you must’ve made most of the football team your little cum-dumps by the end. What was their nickname at that last pep-rally?”
“Oh not the Beaumont Bitches, it was so crass”
“Yeah, always in heat for their stud breeder. His massive python couldn’t be satisfied”
“Yeah. I was a lot.” My cock twitched in reminiscence. My pants strained. To keep it contained. “Still am”
“But that’s just for Connor now, right?”
“Connor?”
“Your little cock-sleeve?”
“What?” Oh right. I looked down at the sexy man bound to my cock. His little whimpers as I filled him were hard to notice at this point. ‘Oh yeah. He’s great. Like I’d always had a thing for him. I’d always dreamed of having his bubble butt near me. Apparently all I needed to do was take it.” I grabbed Connor’s ass in my large palm.
“And your wife doesn’t mind?”
“Julia loves it. She calls Connor my sheathe, so that when I need my sword it’s ready at a moment’s notice. And Connor loves it, I mean just listen to him.”
Connor gave a brief excited noise from behind his gag.
“It must’ve taken some convincing to let him ride you like that here.”
“Mel, are you kidding? I’ve been the most desired guy since freshman year. They wanted a show. Hell they all wanted to be part of the show. Isn’t that right Connor?
“Mmmphhmmm!”
“Good boy.”
“Well, Jake. You look great. It’s been great catching up with you.” Mel said, rising to her feet. She barely reached my waist. “Connor, good to see you again.”
“Mmmhmmm”
“And Jake, don’t forget about what a god you were in highschool. Everyone still dreams of you every night” And with that, the witchy woman wandered off. I gave Connor a small squeeze, grinding into his toned butt, which made him rocket a brief orgasm off again.
“Come on, toy. Let’s go remind everyone what they’re missing.” I’m wouldn’t miss my high school’s reunion orgy for the world.
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Florida GOP bill bans young girls from discussing periods in school
I hate Florida. I really, really do.
I grew up in Michigan. My school did not have a nurse, we had a period talk in 5th grade from our younger teachers who made us watch an awkward film about a girl getting her first period while the boys were in the gym learning how not to kill people with either their stink or with ax body spray. The girls were periodically asking if we could leave.
I promise some of those girls had already started their periods and had a talk with their mothers if they were lucky. My mother is awkward and half British, so she left a book on my bed called 'The Care and Keeping of You' from American Girl. Which is still in print, but updated (the tampon page haunts me).
I got my first ever period when I was twelve, laying in a coffin while working in a haunted forest and managed to not stain the white dress I was wearing in the process. I used toilet paper for the rest of the coffin shift and for a week after that because I could not tell my mother, the words would not leave my throat. She found out a week later of course from my pile of bloodstained underwear in the laundry and laughed at me.
In short, periods was never discussed again after fifth grade. We had... some kind of sex education our Freshman year of high school, but it literally lasted maybe two days, was part of our health class which included six months of gym. This part of health class was literal bullshit, most of it discussed healthy living habits, we all goofed off. The only sex discussion related only to abstinence, lasted less than two days and one of the Sophomore girls was very, very pregnant.
None of what I experienced or what the Christian Fascists wants to make socially acceptable needs to come to pass. The Republican party wants the ignorance and fear of young girls going through natural changes, they want them to feel disgusting and lesser in their own eyes. Republicans hate women and want them to suffer for not being men and the best way to ingrain that is during a vulnerable, confusing time in their lives. Removing the ability to teach girls about a natural process and open a door to understanding also removes the opportunity to be educated about sex in a country where women have become second class citizens, expected to martyr themselves for nonviable pregnancies, or die because they cannot access the health care they need.
Removing the ability to talk about periods and puberty with girls opens doors for them to be abused as they grow up, abused by a lack of knowledge and access to resources to help them navigate their reproductive health at all stages, abused by men who will lie to them about sex and protection, and finally, abused by the state who will not allow them the opportunity to receive care when an inevitable pregnancy goes wrong.
#Florida#ron desantis#ron deathsantis#sex education#puberty#period mention#menstruation#periods#roguepen writes#reproductive rights#reproductive health#bodily autonomy#I'm very angry#why are we regressing like this?
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Eddie Month day 4
prompt: rejection & lost
Since he’d cut gym class so many times last semester (and maybe last year), he’d been forced to take it again with underclassmen. Namely, Steve Harrington and his dickhead friends.
He knew he should keep his eyes down and to himself in the locker room. He knew better. But that didn’t change how his eyes would track across the room to count the moles on the span of ribs as a polo shirt was pulled off.
When he finally got a grip and pulled his own gym clothes on, he was the last one in the locker room. Or so he thought.
As he went to walk out into the gym he was shoved against the brick wall.
“I saw you looking at me, freak.”
He stared back into intense dark eyes, not sure what to say. There wasn’t much to say, he’d been caught.
“Oh I- uh. Well-“
“You’re lucky that coach told us to stay out of trouble or we don’t play. Or you’d be dead. You better watch yourself, man.”
“Uh huh,” he nodded. Apparently that was enough because Steve walked away from him without another word.
In some cosmic twist of bad luck, he found himself paired up with Steve. For the Presidential Fitness Test. Eddie was the only one who groaned when they were told what they were doing. Everyone looked at him and he covered his face with his hair. He wondered if he could fake a cramp or actually make himself throw up.
“Let’s go, Munson. My grandma does better sit ups and she’s been dead for ten years.” Steve got high fives from his friends around them.
This might be the worst day of his entire life. He’d never been more excited to hear the buzzer go off and he could switch places with Steve. Steve who easily tripled the number of countable sit ups than he had accomplished.
He sighed as they were told to do pushups next.
“Are you even trying, man?” Steve scoffed from above him.
“Unfortunately yes,” he huffed. He did a few more before the buzzer went off and stood. Unsticking his sweaty hair from his neck, he glared at his annoying partner. “You know, not all of us are trying to impress anyone in stupid high school gym class. This means fuck all to our actual lives, you know that right? In twenty years it will not matter how many fucking push-ups you did. This is just to keep us compliant and prepare us for the cruel and unusual punishment that is our collective society once we graduate!”
There were some scoffs and some laughs from around the gym. Somewhere towards the end of his rant he’d lost control of his volume and gained everyone’s attention.
“Public speaking is a different class, Munson. Get it together and get with the program.” Their gym teacher’s voice echoed across the gymnasium.
“Your turn, hot shot,” he motioned for Steve to take his place.
Steve ignored him and proceed to do an impressive amount of pushups. It continued this way through the rope climb, sprints and long jumps. Eddie mumbled his monologues to himself. Steve ignored him.
Eddie groaned again as they were directed to a starting line to run a mile. What he would do for a cigarette right now.
A few minutes later, he was holding his side propped against the wall, trying to suck in breaths past the stitch in his side. For some unknown reason, being with this group of people who were actually trying to do their best had made him want to try. And now he was paying for it. For all of his big talk about nonconforming, something in him still wanted to belong. But he never could.
Steve ran past at breakneck speed and didn’t even glance at him. Figures. Why would he care if he passed out? Still sucking in breaths, he slid down the wall and sat watching everyone finish.
“So that’s a Did Not Complete for the mile, but that was a lot more hustle than I’ve seen from you. Keep it up, kid.”
“Perfect, thanks so much,” he saluted sarcastically as he walked past.
He kept his head down in the locker room as he got changed.
@eddiemonth
@lighthousebeams this request turned into angst soz 🖤
#Eddie month#eddie month fic#Eddie munson#eddie Munson feels#Eddie Munson fic#stranger things#stranger things fic#mine
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I watched this movie Blue Jean last night. It’s an independent movie about a lesbian gym teacher, and some other lesbians, living in Newcastle under Thatcher’s Section 28 (link because I hadn’t known about that specific law, not being versed on every bit of British history from the 80s and 90s beyond “Thatcher very very bad, miners on strike”, though I know Canada’s had similar legislation). I realize that plot sounds like something someone would make up if they were trying to describe the stereotype of a hypothetical indie movie. I really, really liked it anyway. Or maybe I shouldn’t say “anyway”, as though I liked it in spite of it being a stereotypical indie movie. What’s wrong with being that?
I’m the sort of person who should be really into indie movies, given everything else about me. My dad and I share an interest in Canadian folk music and British comedy, and he’s also really into independent movies, and by rights I should share that one with him too. But I’m just not that into movies generally. If everything that happens is on the surface, two hours isn’t long enough for me to get hugely invested the way I do with a book or TV show, and if there’s enough subtle artsy stuff going on to imbue it with extra meaning, I tend to not know enough about how that works to catch most of it.
There are exceptions. I think my favourite movie might be The History Boys, for which I try to find a lot explanations for why it’s not really equating homosexuality to adult male teachers who touch up male children. Obviously that would not be the message from Alan Bennett and the real message is about what homophobic repression does to people, but also, sometimes it’s hard to justify when the surface message very much is “homosexuality means adult male teachers who touch up male students”.
Anyway. Blue Jean. It is not The History Boys; it has a gay teacher but she very specifically does not touch up any of the students. It is really, really good. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a movie that much. I don’t know enough about cinema to explain this, but I’m pretty sure the acting was very good. And the directing or editing or whatever leads to all the shots that convey a hundred things in eight seconds with no dialogue.
All right, this got long, so after finishing this post I’ve come back up her to add a “keep reading” link. It also takes a turn for the increasingly personal after this point that I didn’t really plan, so... fair warning on that. Also, honestly, this post was kind of hard to write, so I’m not going to edit it, sorry that it’s full of errors. I feel better for having written it, though.
The intensity with which they make you feel everything that happened is amazing. Or that was my experience, at least, and I usually come out of movies where people say that’s what’ll happen and think I don’t get it. I got this one though. They did something right. My attention span did not even begin to waver for the 95-ish minutes.
It was an interesting way to learn some history, a bit of what it was like to be gay in Thatcher’s England, specifically in a school setting in Thatcher’s Northern England. And harrowing how little some of it changed for a couple of decades, which I hesitate to say because I’m incredibly lucky to have no idea what it was like to be gay anywhere in the 80s. But also, fucking hell, they took a few little shots to make the horrors of being gay in a high school gym class change room radiate off the screen. That, at least, was not that different in Canada in 2005 from this blue-hued indie movie in Thatcher’s England. You feel that terror just from a few seconds of watching the movie. And you say, “Ah, this is how movies are supposed to work, getting you that invested despite not having that much runtime.” Again, by “you”, I mean “me”.
It did really starkly remind me how much that was the scariest part for me, as a teenager. It took me a couple of years to go from “okay, as long as I never tell anyone this and never write it down or say it out loud, it’ll be okay and doesn’t have to ruin my life” (age 15) to “yeah I’m pretty much out, I’ve told most people I know well and I no longer swear people to secrecy when I tell them… except telling them not to tell girls on the team, obviously” (age 17). It wasn’t until several years after that that I stopped worrying about girls from sports knowing, that one was terrifying for so much longer than everything else. Being in change rooms with them and doing contact sports with them was scary enough just when I thought they might know, and sometimes, those fears weren’t unfounded. Sometimes, they did say shitty things in change rooms, because teenage girls can tell there’s something off, whether you tell them or not.
This of course makes me think of rhetoric around trans people now. I hate saying “what people said about gay people in the past is what they say about trans people now”, because it ignores the fact that they still say those things about gay people, and they said those things about trans people back then too. Also, it’s not separate, it’s a general sense of anyone who seems like they don’t “belong” in the safe space of the change room being targeted. Trans people who have the wrong bodies, gay girls who will look at the straight girls the wrong way – all unsafe, predators just by being there.
But these days, there is a lot of specific mainstream rhetoric around trans people just existing in change rooms being a threat to girls and kids generally. And somehow, that rhetoric manages to pretend that cis gay people are the victims of those trans people, rather than being the victims of that same rhetoric that thinks the wrong people being in a change room is an automatic threat. Change rooms are supposed to be a safe space for girls to not have gross people looking at them sexually, and any gay or trans person has always been seen as a threat to that (even though, I hope it goes without saying, gay and trans people are overwhelmingly likely to be the ones carefully staring at the change room wall in fear of being accused of seeing anything they shouldn’t see, they’re not looking at anyone sexually in there), which is how people end up calling someone an abuser or a predator just for being trans near a child.
I read something just recently about how trans women ruin change rooms’ status as safe spaces for teenage girls, and all I could think was how they did not feel safe for me as a teenager. I don’t need to get into all my high school gym class experiences, but the change room was definitely not a safe space free from fear or harassment for me. I’d probably have felt safer if I’d had some trans people in there, feeling like I wasn’t the only one ruining their otherwise perfect environment.
Anyway. Despite all the flashback-inducing shots of high school gym class from a gay girl’s perspective, that wasn’t what brought back the most memories. That would be the main character, a gym teacher who makes every move carefully, watches every step, for fear that she’ll be found out and accused of being a predator just for being a lesbian in the presence of teenage girls. Fucking hell, that was well done in that movie. I’m pretty sure that main actor was very good. I don’t know enough about acting to say, but I’m pretty sure good acting was involved in why that hit so hard.
That brought back fun memories of the time I was 22 and had a fifteen-year-old girl come to me for help because she was suicidal and in an abusive home, but beg me to not tell anyone, and I got to navigate the line of “break the trust of a teenage girl who came to me in confidence, who’s already had every adult in her life violate her trust and she told me this left her unable to talk to anyone but I’d been so kind to her and she was so scared that she took a chance on telling me”, or “not tell anyone what she told me and possibly have a teenage girl kill herself because I didn’t do enough to prevent it.” While also knowing that just about anyone I could report it to would tell her parents, and I had good reason to believe that would only make the situation worse. I remember her sending me a text that said “I Googled what to do if I want to kill myself and it said to tell an adult”, and I almost wrote back to say “Yeah holy fuck go fucking do that”, until I realized she was doing that. Again, I was 22.
Long story that spans the next year of me making lists for her of confidential hotlines and sources of therapy and professional crisis support, and making anonymous calls to her school board to find out how much she could open up to them about without her parents getting told so I could encourage her to talk to a guidance counselor, making her promise to call me if she needed me, making sure my phone was always charged and always had the volume up loud enough to wake me up if it rang in the middle of the night, missing social events and sometimes my university classes to take her calls every time, having nightmares about her dying and it being my fault.
Her mother never knew most of what was happening, but at some point she found out I was gay and coaching her daughter, and then decided that the small amount she did know of her daughter’s mental health problems were my fault. That I was a predator grooming her daughter and trying to make her like me. She threatened all kinds of things, and then I had a new thing to be terrified of. Either I’d respect the mother’s demands that I stay away from her daughter and then a girl might die if she was cut off from support, or I tried to keep in touch anyway, get accused of horrible things, and my life is ruined. Coaching was my life, I knew I wanted to pursue a career working with youth, all that would be gone.
Stayed in this difficult position for about six months, still taking the girl’s calls but terrified of her mother. I started having people I knew come to me to tell me this mother had cornered them to tell them that I was a danger to teenage girls and they needed to know there was a gay predator in their midst. God knows how many people she said that to who didn’t come tell me about it.
At the national championships, my friends told me they saw this mother yelling at her daughter outside, at first they wouldn’t tell me what she’d said beyond the fact that it was really bad, but eventually I got them to tell me one direct quote, which was: “If that fucking dyke ever comes near you again, I’m calling the fucking cops.” Weirdly, my first question was who else was around to hear that – I guess because I already knew the mother hated me and the daughter knew it, but if my friends who already knew the story overheard it, then some people in our community who didn’t know the story but did know me might have heard. They said our university coach was standing nearby and they were pretty sure he heard.
I had this confirmed a couple of years later, when that university coach got worried that I was trying to recruit one of my former athletes back from him (which I fucking wasn’t, he drove that guy away all on his own, but that’s another issue), and he told that athlete not to trust me because I have an history of being sexually predatory toward my athletes. I was devastated when I heard that, because that guy was my coach for two years. My high school coach was horrible (again, different story), but my university coach seemed like a nice guy when I was there, helped me through some difficult stuff, gave me good advice, I looked up to him and trusted him. And he knew me, I was shocked that he’d believe something like that about me just from overhearing a few things shouted by a woman he didn’t know. Honestly, he probably didn’t believe it, he was just using it to play politics. Playing politics with something that absolutely traumatized me – I mean, you’d think that some things would be off limits even in the cutthroat world of recruiting one fucking kid for your varsity team. Though he may not have known how bad it was for me. I wouldn’t know what he thought, I haven’t been on speaking terms with him since this happened like eight years ago. I did watch him yell pointlessly at an athletic director in a coaches’ meeting at a tournament two months ago, though, and wonder why I ever gave a shit what he thought of me.
It didn’t work, either. The athlete he was trying to turn against me did know me, and he knew the story of why that mother had spread those rumours about me. He didn’t tell me what the coach had said, though. He told a mutual friend of ours, and made her promise not to repeat it to me. She got drunk and told me about a year later. Desperately hoping she’d somehow gotten the story wrong, the next time I saw that athlete, I asked him, “Last year, when [coach] was trying to turn you against me, did he say anything that you’ve never told me?” And he said, “Are you sure you really want to know?” And I said, “I think you’ve just told me.” And he said, “Did she get drunk and tell you?” And I said, “Yep.”
And he said, “I’m sorry, I only tried to keep it from you because you’d already been through so much and I didn’t think you deserved to hear something so awful. You know I’d never believe a word from that homophobic asshole, right?” And then he gave me a hug and told me I’d been like a mother to him. And for the record, that guy is Muslim, and everyone in this story who treated me like shit is white. I’m only mentioning that part to say that people who think Muslims are the big threat to gay people can fuck off right alongside the people who think trans people are the big threat to gay people (yes, Islam and all religions can be a threat to gay people, but Islam is mainly a threat to gay Muslims, so hating all Muslims is not a great solution).
Anyway. Writing all this is making me want to say “trigger warning” about that Blue Jean movie, because it turns out if you watch it and you were once accused of being a predator for being a gay woman who works with teenage girls, it might drag up some traumatizing memories. But that doesn’t mean people shouldn’t watch it, it just means, you know, maybe save it for a time when you can handle that. I meant for this post to be mainly about the movie, and did not realize how much I needed to write all this out until I started doing it. That movie did bring up some stuff.
In case anyone was wondering, the girl survived. She finished high school and moved several hours away from her mother, and we’re still in touch sometimes. She’s just started a PhD. She came out as gay a couple of years after high school, and I had a small breakdown, terrified that her mother had been right all along, I had, in fact, been somehow grooming her and turning her gay (please note that I did have the sense to not express this to the girl in question). One I had a horrible panic attack about it and expressed this fear to someone at a mental health hotline, a number I still had in my phone from when I’d first sent it to this girl when she was fifteen. The person on the phone pointed out that if there’s any way in which it’s not a coincidence that she came to me for help and turned out to be gay like me, it’s because she sensed that I she could trust me because I was like her, even if she didn’t know why yet. Which I think may be true. I saw her in person a few months ago, when I went to a tournament in the city where she’s living now. She told me she’s now several years older than I was when she first came to me for help, and she now realizes how young I was and how hard it must have been for me, but she appreciates everything I did for her. She did not say I made her gay.
After I finished watching the movie Blue Jean last night, I watched the new Hannah Gadsby special, Something Special. It’s lighter than he last two shows, about how she fell in love with, and then married, her now-wife. “Show that’s all about how I got into my relationship” is usually not a type of comedy show I love, but that one was pretty perfect for last night. Watching Blue Jean made me really enjoy seeing a lesbian who grew up in the 80s and 90s tell us her love story with the woman she married. Because as much as I’ve been through some shit, I have no fucking idea what it was like to be gay under Thatcher, or under those similar laws in Canada at the time, or anywhere in the 80s and 90s, or in a place that’s liberal than urban Canada now. I’m very lucky to not know that, and I felt genuinely inspired by seeing a woman who has been through that tell a positive story. I don’t even want to analyze its merits as a comedy show or anything (good though, it was good), it was just perfect for last night.
Watching those two things in a row last night was pretty cool. If anyone wants a night of watching cool lesbian things, may I recommend the movie Blue Jean followed by the Hannah Gadsby show Something Special? Made for a very gay night – the gayest night I’ve had since I broke up with my girlfriend last year. Anyway. I’m doing fine. I’m going to go back to listening to The Bugle now. With Andy Zaltzman, who was making jokes about the absurdity of anti-gay marriage arguments in 2007, and that wasn’t exactly a revolutionary stance for a leftie alternative comedian to take even back then (I’m still not clear on exactly what an “alternative comedian” is, but whatever definition you use, Andy Zaltzman is it), but still, it wasn’t the mainstream view at the time. Also, Andy Zaltzman has an agender sister (I believe the specific identity is “unsubscribed from gender”, and I’m pretty sure Helen Zaltzman is still cool with the word “sister”, correct me if I’m wrong) whom he fully supports, and the only time I’ve heard him make a joke about trans people is when Boris Johnson said “We’ve sacrificed to keep Britain safe” during the pandemic, and Andy pointed out that it is “overwhelmingly a good thing” that people can use any pronouns they want these day, the only time when anyone should be stopped from using any pronoun is in that one instance, Boris Johnson doesn’t get to say “we” there.
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Lucky Blackout
Sorry for not posting in a while. But I really wanted to talk about today. Today was a very interesting day at school because lots of things happened that were different from what would usually happen at school. I actually didn't want to go there very much this morning as I got ready to go to school 10 minutes later than usual. But I did manage to get there on time, and the first hour or so was going as usual. Actually, it was normal until fourth period. The main reason why we didn't want to go to school today was because of the weather outside. It was all snowy and stuff, and it even hailed on our way to school. Somehow, this did not mean a snow day. Up here, we have very high standards on what we call a snow day for some reason.
Many of us, myself included, questioned whether school should have taken place today or not, but we pushed forward anyway. (We didn't want to get in trouble after all.) The next best thing we wanted was a blackout, because sometimes that would mean something like an early release for example. But that would be a stretch because this happened very rarely. For reference, the last time we had an early release during a blackout was within the last 20 years. So imagine our delight when we found that the lights were turning off! Cheering was spread throughout the hallways as we then scrambled to find out what we were going to do next. From here, we're hoping for an early release or something. The teachers were trying to find out how to handle the situation as well. As far as we knew at that time, lesson plans were off the table now.
The blackout persisted into lunch as well. Getting to the lunch room was actually not as hard as we thought it would be because a generator was keeping some of the lights going. Around the beginning of lunch, we found out that we were, in fact, having an early release! A whole 95 minutes earlier than usual! The busing plans have been changed and everything! This made a lot of us students very happy! Though there was some disappointment when the lights came back on, as evidenced by the groaning that ensued throughout the entire lunchroom. This means we really only had fifth period and we were out of here. Luckily, fifth period was a gym class, which was interestingly being taught by a substitute teacher today! What is good about this substitute teacher was that he is very laid back and basically lets us do whatever we want as long as it's in line with what needed to be done that day! He usually teaches an English class, which he is just as laid back in. Essentially, we talked the entire time and shot some hoops here and there.
This has got to be one of the better days of my senior year so far. I think it's going to be decently difficult to top; well, it might happen towards the end of the year, because that's going to be my graduation period. Fun day that was!
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Random Questions for Jasmine to Answer
Thought it would be fun to ask Jasmine a bunch of questions for no other reasons than I wanted to. Some are sad, others are less sad.
But OMG I forgot this existed! It’s been sitting in my drafts since May and I forgot some of the answers I wrote so it made me laugh to reread them.
Jasmine: (Sitting at Nicks desk with her legs crossed, a pile of papers in her hands) “Well, guess we are breaking the fourth wall today.” (Flips the papers around) “So many questions, y'all lucky I ain't taking this as an interrogation session.” (Clicks her tongue, rifling back to the first page) “Lets get started then.” What is your name?: “Jasmine. If you want a last name as well, then Valentine.” How old are you?: “About 15.”
How do you style your hair?: “Braids are my go to standard. Keeps this long curly hair I insist on keeping out of my face.”
What kind of clothing do you wear?: “Tactically? Cargo pants and a jacket that are both tailored to my needs.”
Do you wear makeup?: What kind?: “I know how to apply makeup beautifully, but I don't wear it. There isn't much left of the prewar stuff anyways.”
What is your skin tone?: “Uh…” (Glances at her hand and arm) “Like a light honey brown? Golden tan? Never gave it much thought because I don’t care.”
Where were you born?: “Hm, I believe I was found as an infant somewhere in downtown Boston. God only knows where I was exactly born, and who to.” What did your father and mother do for a living?: “I don't know what exactly my adoptive father did prewar times, I know he was in the military at some point. My adoptive mom did a lot of odd jobs at odd hours, again I don't know what. Nick, my Dad, is a private detective.”
Were you well off? Middle class? Impoverished?: “Prewar, right on the very thin line between absolutely broke, and regular broke. We had a cozy house and all, but everything else was a little more scarce. Clothes we got second hand and mended ourselves, sometimes we didn't power, heating, or dinner. Nowadays I guess we are considered middle class by Wasteland standards, have enough to eat, roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, not getting raided every twenty seconds…”
Do you have siblings? If so, what are their names and ages?: “Had an sister named Lilac, who was five years older than me. And a brother named Cosmos, who was three years younger. Both are now long off dead. Right now I guess you could say I have a lot of people who act like older siblings to me. Especially Ellie, Hancock and Piper.”
Where do you fall in the birth order? The oldest, youngest?: “Middle child, but I took the role of the oldest from Lilac. Now I am one of the youngest in our little family-like group, and the only kid who can go out on missions or cases.” Which one of you is your mother’s favorite?: “None. She never play favorites with any of us, even though I was the only adopted child.”
Where did you grow up? Is this a place you’d go back to now? Or avoid?: “I think the town I lived in was called Pepper Valley or something close to that. I have to avoid it now because its in the Glowing Sea, nothing left there worth seeing or visiting anyways. The Vault I spent over a decade in since I was nine is down near New York. No, I don't want to ever go back there…”
Do you still have friends there? Or family?: “Everyone from then and there is dead.”
How did you do in school?: “I soaked up knowledge quickly like a sponge, but I would rather have been doing something active then sit around listening to a half hearted lessons by teachers who barely gave a shit. Who knows, maybe I would've been a genius if the public education system was better.”
What was your favorite subject?: “Gym, because that is where my physical capabilities shinned the most. Guess who was never picked last for teams?”
What was your greatest talent?: “Obviously my extreme athletic and super human abilities. I’m just surprised I haven’t gotten magical abilities yet.”
How far did you advance in your education?: “In a normal public school, I got all the way up to third grade. Afterwords I took lessons up in the Vault in an empty classroom. Most of the time I was learning from reading a worksheet and a occasional book. Other times I listening to an old hag with a ruler droning on about whatever the subject and correcting my every mistake with a smack.”
What is your life like at the moment?: “Pretty good compared to all the other possibilities I could be living. I have basically everything I need, and more.”
Where do you live now?: “At the Valentines Detective Agency in Diamond City. Its pretty small, but cozy. Dad helped me make my little sleeping space feel a little more prewar and personalized.”
What are your physical surroundings like? Are they comfortable, safe, or dangerous?: “We live in one of the more safer places in the Commonwealth. But that doesn't mean there isn't trouble. A lot of people don't like synths, so more than once have we woken up to pounding at our door or something being thrown at it. Get some pretty nasty threats and comments too, but Nick is somehow used to it. Other than that there is just the looming possibility of an attack from Raiders or Super Mutants, like everywhere else.”
Who lives with you?: “Its just me and Nick living here in the agency full time but Ellie is here so much she might as well be counted too.”
How do you get along with them? If you don’t get along, what is the source of conflict?: “We all get along almost perfectly and in harmony, either working together on a case or relaxing with one another.”
Do you have/had children?: (Looks away from the paper) “....pass.”
What do you do for a living? Are you self-employed, or do you work for someone else?: (Brightening up again) “Oh! I work with Dad on any cases he takes up. He gives me a small cut of the pay in case I want to buy extra stuff for myself, but I never do.”
If you use drugs or alcohol, how do you feel about it? Do you brag about it? Try to hide it? Try to give it up and fail? Have no problem with it?: “With drinking its really hard for me to get drunk or gain any lasting negative side effects, so its fine if I chug down some bottles. Chems are a bit difficult. I was forcefully pumped with all sorts of strange and strong stuff for six years, then willingly continued afterwords. No, Im not proud of it, but it helps free me from my troubles for a blissful moment. Its hard to hide it when you're Dad is a detective, if he asked me outright Id would admit it. Otherwise I just tried to keep quiet about it.”
What do you do to entertain yourself?: “I’ve learned how to live without entertainment.”
What is your idea of a really fun time?: “An entire day spent at the lake or pool. Or just hanging out with people I love.”
Are your parents still living?: “Biological? They both probably died in the bombs, if not before. Adopted are also both dead. Nick is alive and perfectly healthy, or I guess functional, at the moment. Wouldn't be lying if I said I wasn't worried about him also dying... If that’s a possibility for a synth like him.”
If so, where are they now? Nearby or far away?: “Dad is out on a case right now, he wouldn't let me tag along after I got smacked out cold during the last one. But I'm usually glued to his side.”
How did they raise you as a child? Were they strict or lenient? Did they pay attention to you, or were they more interested in other things?: “Mamá tried her best to tend to us, but she just couldn't as much as she should with working so much to keep us afloat.”
If one or more of your parents are deceased, when did they die?: “Adopted father was mugged and murdered right before Christmas when I was two. Mami died in a car crash when I was just about turning nine.”
Where are you in your life right now? What are you most pleased with right now?: “According to Nick, Im at a healing process in life after all the traumatic and abusive shit I was shoved through. So its a very wonky and painful at times, the past slapping me down at the worst moments. But… I have people that support me, and I am grateful for that.”
What keeps you awake at night?: “Other than my chronic insomnia caused by a whole string of things? I don’t know for sure. Its never due to the comfortableness of my sleeping position, I can virtually fall asleep anywhere. Slept against a cold hard floor and if I was lucky a wooden bed during the Vault times. Sometimes I fell asleep standing right up against the wall, felt safer that way...”
Would you trade ten years of your life to be richer?: “No. Money wont buy a you a second of lost time, unless someone is holding a gun to you're head and threatens to shoot if you don't pay up.”
What memory makes you swell with pride?: “When my little brother Cozzy finally got the hang of riding a bike. Heh, we spent hours trying to get him to balance… But it was worth it to see the smile on his face.”
If you could relive one day of your life without changing anything that happened, which day would you choose?: “The day my Mamá had a day off and she took us for a hike and a picnic at the beach. We spent the entire day swimming, playing volleyball, burying each other in the sand, hiking the high trails, just having a good time as a family. The sunset that day was also magnificent… One of the best I've ever seen.” (Smiles softly to herself)
How would your best friend describe you?: “Dogmeat? Uh, he'd probably bark happily and lick my face, which in doggy language means Im good.”
How would your parents describe you?: “I don't know what Mamá would think of me now, I always imagined disappointment and disgust on her face. Nick sees me differently then I see myself, so I also don't know. I will ask him when he gets back.”
What do you think about in the shower?: “How much longer must I remain in this vulnerable state and can I kill a man with a bar of soap.”
Do you stay up late or wake up early?: “Both. Although Nick insists I try to get into bed by 10pm if possible, and I cant really put up a strong argument with that.”
What do you do if you can’t sleep?: “Thats almost every night for me. Nick usually holds me until I do fall asleep if he is not busy. It’s a good thing, it gives him a chance to also rest. Daddy works like a machine way too much of the time, but he needs some form of rest like the rest of us.”
Who or what do you turn to when you’re upset?: “For the longest time it was only hurting myself. Cutting, scratching, pinching, burning, and punching a wall until I cant feel my hands. I still have the urge to do that, but I try to either talk it out with Daddy or keep my hands far away from myself.”
Can you lie easily?: “Yes. It was one of the many Vault courses I was forced to take, learn to be able to lie or make something seem like a lie on a whim. I try not to use any of those techniques unless I really have to.”
How can the other people tell when you're lying?: “They can’t if I don’t want them to.”
Have you ever done something illegal?: Prewar childhood times, nothing too bad. The worst thing I did was sneak into a police station with Lilac my older sister to get ahold of some dusty old files. We almost got caught, but other than that nothing else except for some trespassing and misuse of public property.”
Do you pick wildflowers?: “When I can find some on the barren earth? Yes, at least one to put in my hair or press into a book.”
Muffins or cupcakes?: “If I could eat them? Cupcakes, although they both sound good.” (Tilts her head) “I should try making some, for everyone else to try at least.”
If you spray-painted a city wall, what would you write/draw?: “One of those giant cat motivational posters saying BELIEVE or something like that.
You wake up permanently invisible. Do you ask for help right away, or do you stay hidden?: “I would run to Dad for help, probably scare the hell out of the old man in the process, then fall over in defeat.”
Jeans, skinny jeans, or sweatpants?:“Sweatpants, I can move around easier in them.”
How far can you spit a watermelon seed?: “Last time I checked? Across a classroom. In my defense, that girl was getting on my nerves and the look on her face when it hit her glasses and nose was priceless.”
Do you sleep in normal clothes or pajamas? To what degree are you clothed?: “I would sleep in my day clothes all the time, but both Ellie and Dad insist that I change into something clean and light.”
What are your three favorite types of flowers?: “Almost obvious. Roses, Lilacs, Cosmos, and Jasmines are my top three. But I like almost every flower.”
When you sneeze: hand, elbow, or nada?: “Elbow. Its disgusting that many people just blow it out globs of spit and mucus with no regard of everyone else. Ewwww, you can feel the particles.”
What was the last thing you thought about stealing?: “A key for some warehouse out of some guys pocket during the last case I went on with Nick. Good thing I did, we found the runaway tied up in there and were able to get them out alive, eventually.”
When was the last time you physically attacked something?: “During the same case. I got into a scuffle with a big brute on our way out. The runaway almost surrendered back to their captures and I had to jump in to save them.” (Points to her bruised head) “One of the baddies got a good hit in.”
Your favorite thing about riding a Ferris Wheel?: “When it suddenly stops at the very tippy top and you are just swaying from the force and the wind.”
Are you a cat, dog, or horse person?: “Cats and dogs, fight me if ya want me to pick just one.”
Do you prefer raw cookie dough or fully baked cookies?: “Fully baked homemade cookies with a warm glass of milk...” (Smiles dreamily)
Are you ticklish?: “Yeah I think so, just good luck trying to tickle me without dying.”
Do you prefer floral/outdoor scented candles, or candles that smell like food?: “Ugh, I hate the very smell of food. Course I choose the flowers.”
Do you pay attention to the weather forecast?: “Haha, the closest we get to that is Nick squinting up at the sky while holding up a finger and going, “Seems like rain.” So yes, I do pay attention.”
Do you give nicknames to other people?: “I don't use nicknames on a regular basis unless said person tells me directly to call them that. I hardly get call by Jasmine from anyone close anymore, everyone has their own nicknames for me other than the typical Jazzy or Jas.”
When you go to the beach, do you use sunscreen? Lotion or spray-on?: “For someone who doesn't have any skin- Daddy is the sunscreen police with me. And he insists every time that the spray on is no good because the old Nick used it once at the beach and ended up with a nasty burn.”
Do you sing in the car, in the shower, or both?: “We don’t have cars anymore and it’s a rare day when I’m comfortable enough to sing in the shower.”
Deep down, do you believe a hot dog is a sandwich?: “A piece of overly processed meat in between two slices of bread? Sounds like a sandwich to me.”
Long sleeves or spaghetti straps?: “Longed sleeved. More practical out here, and it hides more.”
What’s the weirdest place you've climbed up on?: “Hah, probably a one of those stripper signs, the ones with the legs and high heels. I was trying to navigate back home and needed a good spotting point that I wouldn't get sniped from and it was my best bet.”
Would you rather fly or be immortal?: “I am already on the borderline of being immortal, so flying ‘cause why not have another super ability.”
If you were forced to dye their hair, would you rather dye it purple or neon green?: “I think purple would draw the least amount of attention of the two, especially if its dark.”
Most embarrassing middle school moment?: “I didn’t attend middle school.”
On a road trip, are you the driver, the DJ in the passenger seat, or one of the people eating snacks and huddled under the bags in the back?: “Drivers helper in the passengers seat.”
What would you do if you were locked in a room with a rat?: “I would befriend the rat and train it to crawl through a small hole in the wall to let me out.”
Your crush asks you to dance and pulls you to the dance floor. How do you react? Do you try to hide their feelings? And most importantly, do you dance?: “Let’s first push past the low probability of a guy liking me enough back to have the guts to pull me onto the dance floor. If he gets that far without getting the living daylights knocked out of him, then I guess we could do a few songs, if he can keep up.”
Jasmine: (Tosses the piles of paper behind her) “Welp, that’s enough of that for today.” (Squints at the floor) “Why the hell did I even do this again…?”
#This is a good exercise to get to know your own character.#I honestly just googled the questions#I dunno. It’s fun to write as Jazzy.#But like I said. I forgot I had written this#So coming back with barely any memories of the answers was sooooo interesting#fallout 4#fallout#fo4#fallout original character#fallout oc#nick valentine#ellie perkins
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911 Rewatch
S4E6: Jinx
When Buck is talking to the man who taped himself to the billboard and asks if he has anything on underneath the tape...
My initial reaction was: the duct tape is going to pull of body hair and that's gonna hurt if he has no protection in his sensitive groin area
My second reaction was: Buck think the guy will end up naked and on the news and that might be embarassing
My third reaction: Buck's tone sounds like he has experience in this area. So who taped Buck up? And why? Or is there another reason he would know about the pain of hair removal? Has the 118 come across something like this before on one fo their weird sex calls?
(In truth, my first reaction to this whole scene, is we used to have competition in my middle school where one person from each homeroom class would get duct taped to the wall in the gym and the class who's classmate stayed up the longest won. There was a time limit on the taping too, I think we only got five minutes. We were in 7th/8th grade.
If this sounds unsafe to you, it was. It was the 90s, things were different then. Also, I think they stopped after my last year at the middle school because one of the kids started slipping down the wall, but the tape across his throat held and started choking him and the teachers had to come to his rescue.
So rapper guy was lucky he didn't strangle himself accidentally. Also you need a lot of duct tape to secure someone to a wall. I know from experience.)
#911#911 fandom#911 fox#911 abc#911 rewatch#duct tape guy#he gives me lots of thoughts#what can i say
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I was inspired by the dedicated Instructors and students at last week’s JPJKD Seminar to repost this. As Jerry used to quote his teacher, Bruce Lee; “something to shoot for!”
OLD SCHOOL - by Sifu Fran Poteet-Joseph
For the last two decades, I have traveled all over the world, teaching Jeet Kune Do, as well as other martial arts. More people than ever are pursuing martial arts for a variety of reasons, and most attend class working hard to be their best. But still, something is missing...
When I began my training with JKD Master Jerry Poteet, I had reached a point where I was quite proud of my martial arts abilities. I assumed that learning from him would be "a piece of cake". But that cake turned out to be very hard to swallow! Training with Sifu was both exhilarating and exhausting. After the third lesson, he handed me a sheet of paper and said "This is yours".
When I glanced down at it, I saw "Supplemental Training For Fran Joseph" on the top, and below, a step-by-step regimen for physical excellence. Many of the exercises were the same ones Jerry's teacher, Bruce Lee, had given him. When I got to the bottom of the page and saw SPLITS BETWEEN CHAIRS, my face must have registered dread. Jerry just chuckled and told me he had the same reaction to that exercise with Sijo Lee. Bruce just shot him "that look" and told Jerry "something to shoot for!". And, try he did.
Jerry immediately installed a home gym in his garage. Under his teacher's directions, he was expected to hone his body daily. As his famous teacher warned him, "the mind will always push the body past what it can safely endure". So, Jerry forged his body into a JKD fighting machine. Those of you who have seen pictures of Jerry from that era can attest to his amazing physique. Lean, lithe, and explosive, Sifu reached his potential. (He felt that too much muscle would bulk and slow the body, like a turtle's armor).
His gym was equipped with 'torture" devices of all sorts. Jerry would laugh when he recalled visitors attempting to give his REVERSE Roman Chair a try! True to his teacher's predictions, there was a time he did injure himself. The bar was set so high that after Jerry hurt his shoulder using hooks on a 300-pound heavy bag, his teacher noticed something was wrong with Jerry's strikes. Slipping up behind him, he scolded, "I told you NOT to use hooks on that heavy bag." Jerry wisely kept his distance the entire class, and never used hooks on that particular bag again.
This tradition of intensive and unique training continued with Sifu Jerry. Those of us lucky enough to be in that first group with him always share "war stories". Like Jerry, we did low line attacks without the benefit of hard shin guards. And, we were expected to train like spartans, every day of the week, to achieve greatness. (Something to shoot for!)
Sifu Jerry's awareness was laser sharp, and he knew if we were slacking off. It wasn't until much later that I realized the payoff for such intense training. In order to receive first certification from Jerry, I had to go to professional boxing and kickboxing gyms and spar the champions. In all humility, I was amazed at how easy it was to hold my own and best them. Was it me? They were all much younger and stronger than myself, so how could I control them so easily? I realized it was the TRAINING METHOD that gave me my new abilities.
Of course, it was up to me to use that method, but I realized that the supplemental training Jerry developed for me was a bullet-proof formula to give me the extra edge in the martial way. And, that was just the beginning...
Why are students, who are exposed to more martial arts than ever before, not taking advantage of this supplemental training? For at least two reasons: people today do not have the time that martial arts devotees had several years ago to devote to Olympic-level supplemental training. Time is a precious commodity in today's world, and most of us are tightly budgeted in our daily schedules. The second reason is that people do not have access to this specialized training. In fact, many of the drills Jerry developed for professional athletes are just now being used by teams and Olympians. Most are still unknown. (I have related how Jerry was the first to put the dots on the mitts, to his teacher's delight. From then on, Jerry called them FOCUS mitts. At the time, the rest of the martial arts community ridiculed him!)
For those of you who want to experience these and other training method in the pursuit of greatness, we welcome you to join our fast-growing community of elite Instructors and Students by attending one of our JPJKD Association Workshops...or online with our JKD eAcademy. Visit www.patreon.com/jpjkd for more information. Our next workshop will be held in Bury St. Edmunds, UK this September. Official announcement and online registration for the workshop will be posted soon.
See you at the OLD School...
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Flower Power
Stranger Things
Eddie Munson x black!Reader
Word Count: 1067
Warnings: enough fluff to rot out those pearly whites ya'll have, a bit of cursing, slight violence
The task was so simple. See Eddie needed this specific pair of dice he used every campaign. He usually kept them in this raggedy brown little pouch he kept in his jacket's vest pocket.But during lunch he went to pat his chest while boasting about this campaign's new adventure he found it to be empty and silently cursed the name Y/N L/N under his breath.
“Henderson! Wheeler!” The two younger members jumped in their seats at the metal heads hard glare.
“You two find me L/N, she’s got my lucky dice. If you do, I just might consider giving the two of you a head start in this new campaign.”
The entire table's jaws dropped before they were ushering the younger boys to get the hell out and find the girl. A chance like this would never fall into their laps so easily again.
If you were to put Eddie Munson and Y/N L/N in the same room the doe eyed girl dressed in some flowing skirt and macrame top made the freak of the school look normal. He remembers seeing her on the first day dropped off by her mother who for sure was the inspiration for her daughter's looks.
She had a fair amount of friends and to this day no one remembers how she and Eddie Munson crossed paths and became attached to the hip. There were rumors like he was her dealer from back in freshman year, she had a racy tattoo of the hellfire club somewhere on her body, the two got caught junior year in the trig class which then sparked the new rumor of the year that the two were friends with benefits.
Every first day back from a holiday break he would tell her the new tall tale of the month and she would push down those giant frames and tilt her head, “they could’ve come up with something better.”
Now Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler had heard many stories about the infamous Lady L/N as Eddie so lovingly referred to her but no matter how hard they looked it seemed as though she was nothing but a ghost or tall tale. They had scouted the entire school looking for the fair maiden with one of Eddie’s gaudy rings and dice bag in hand but so far they had only received smacks and punches when they would yank a girls hand or lean over and peek at their hands.
“L/N? Saw her behind the bleachers sparking with the dope heads”
So the pair ran into the gym where sure enough a pack of dope heads clustered together letting out low puffs.
“Nah man she’s in the art room”
The frizzy haired art teacher pushed back her mop of hair before mumbling incoherently to herself, “L/N….L/N.. was she in here? Yes she was. Ah such good portraits that girl does, oh did you know..”
The two let out huffs standing outside of school. Dustin took a few puffs of his inhaler looking over to en equally winded Mike.
“What if this is Munson’s way of testing us?”
“More like he’s screwing with us” Dustin choked out “what if she skipped out on school today?”
“Not a chance, I hear all the seniors complaining about how she never skips a single class, but she’s always spaced-”
“What? It’s just hair, I can't touch it?”
“Not if you wanna lose a finger”
The jock let out a huff and proceeded to reach out to the smoking girls hair. But in the blink of an eye her left hand shot out and twisted the jock's arms sending him to his knees in a yelling fidgeting mess. She leaned down and just barely brushed her lips to his ear mumbling something into his ears. And whatever it was, it was enough to send the giant oaf running with his tail tucked.
The two boys gaped at the girl who lazily walked over to the boys adjusting the oversized tote bag hung in the crook of her arm. Once she let out her last puff she dropped it to the ground and smashed it under her platforms.
“Can’t stand asses like him” she smiled down at the boys wiggling her fingers in a lazy wave and sure enough there glimmering in the light was a gargoyle ring resting on her ring finger.
“YOU!” Dusting pointed at the girl who raised an eye pointing to herself. “Me?”
Both boys took hold of her wrists running into the decorated club room where sure enough perched upon his throne Eddie sat twisting his rings. “How is your quest younglings?”
“Oh Eddie Teddy!”
The boy's head snapped to meet the girl's bright smile. “If you wanted me you know you could’ve just come looking for yourself. Stressing these poor dudes out, not chill at all.” As she walked over she dug around into the bag mumbling to herself not seeing the two boys smirk at the flushed look on Eddie’s cheeks.
“Oh here!” She placed the dice out in front of Eddie and then placed both hands onto her hips like a mother scolding her child. “This is what you get when you head out in such a rush. Did you boys know this idiot nearly forgot these cause he slept through his alarm?”
“Oh? And how did this happen Y/N?” Dustin asked in the most sweetened tone. And from the side of Y/N Eddie mouthed out something along the lines of ‘you both are dead meat’ followed by dragging his pointer along his throat.
“Well someone asked me to spend the-”
“BABY, darling, sweetheart, light of my life” he nervously cooed after tugging her to settle on his lap “campaigns starting soon and I gotta set up”
“I think I’d like it if Y/N stayed” Mike spoke up mimicking Dustin’s sweet tone “after all this is the first we’ve ever gotten to see the infamous Lady L/N”
“Aw thanks boys, I actually got snacks out in Ed’s van, let me go grab those really quick” she hopped up pecking Eddie’s cheek and walking out.
“Thanks Y/N” the two called. Once she was out ear shot Eddie pointed a finger at the smirking children.
“You get head starts for the next two meetings if this stays between us all.”
“Three and you’ve got a deal.”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x black!reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson imagine#eddie x reader
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Chapter Two
Oh, Look, A Pony! | Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader
also made a playlist for this story! which I will be updating as we go, and there will be an explanation at the end :)
Chapter summary: A field trip offers the perfect chance to spend time with Percy. Until the math teacher tries to kill you both.
Percy could have considered you to be a nat at this point, because even when he was hanging out with Grover, you were suddenly there too. Grover needed help in history, and Percy moved seats to join him? Cool, you could go too. He wanted to work as a pair? Well, you suggested, why not work as a trio? They’d both agreed—Percy with enthusiasm and Grover with a look of terror—but this was it. This was how you kept your best friend. You were doing what Mr. Brunner said and sharing. So why did you still feel jealous?
The only time you got Percy all to yourself was in gym class.
Grover couldn’t take part. He would sit on the sidelines on the wooden benches, although you didn’t see how that helped his physical state because those bad boys did damage to your back.
But, because Grover couldn’t take part, it left an open space for time with Percy. You were able to make the jokes you couldn’t when Grover was within earshot because you knew how he reacted when you joked about serious things (he looked offended—especially when you said donkeys were scary).
Today, you had two hours of gym. Usually you’d have a good ol’ scream into your pillow the night before, just after dinner when the dorm was still empty. And then you’d dread the whole night and the next morning until it was over, and your happy-go-lucky mood could return. Now, however, Grover was in the picture. Today, though, he couldn’t partake in gym, which left being a partner of Percy’s as a free-for-all.
“Hey, B,” Percy greeted brightly as you approached him and Grover on the bench nearest the wall. B for Bambi. A reminiscent name.
“Morning,” you breathed, pushing your way between Grover—who was skittish even this early in the morning and slid over, pushing into some bigger kid (and you could have sworn Grover bleeted quietly at the look on the kid’s face). “Isn’t it great that we have gym for two hours straight?”
“Oh yeah, highlight of my week,” Percy rolled his eyes.
Grover nervously met your eyes. “You like gym?”
“I spent four months in Wilderness Therapy. Gym is nothing.”
Grover’s expression suddenly relaxed and he sighed, a dreamy expression on his face. Percy turned his head to give him a what the hell expression. You blinked.
“Four months in the wild,” he said, “sounds like a beautiful dream.”
“Sure, if you’re not right in the head.”
A shrill whistle blew and brought you all out of your rising conversation. The coach, an old man in a ratty baseball cap that needed a serious wash, stood hunched over in the middle of the court. The room had fallen silent, eager to know what game was about to brutally batter the class.
“I can’ be dealing with any of you today. You’re playing dodgeball and I’m heading out of here. Good luck.” He held up his hands and began to slowly walk back over to the gym doors. Some students gawped at him while others whispered.
“Sorry, Grover, looks like I’m stealing Percy for this one.” You smiled, clasping a hand gently around Percy’s arm. “C’mon, we need a good spot!”
He didn’t get a word in edgeways. You knew Percy wouldn’t mind being your partner—he always had been since he’d come to the school last year—but you felt a little off. You didn’t want to force Percy to work with you, but really, who else would he work with? The hall was already echoing with the slap of rubber balls smacking walls at too-fast speeds, and kids screaming in either joy or fear as the balls flew about the room, high over heads and skimming feet.
You breathed as the hall got louder, and Percy caught a ball as it passed. It slapped loudly against his hands and he winced as you laughed, his own grimace becoming a smile.
“You playing?” He asked, eyes darting from one side of the hall to you. You shrugged and took the ball from the air as it bounced up again. Percy yelped as you smacked it down with vigour and pure excitement at the thought of throwing it at Grover. “Oookay, I guess you are, then.”
“Of course I am. Quality me time, Perce. Without Grover for once.” You bounced the ball back to Percy. “It—”
“What’s wrong with Grover?” Percy vouched, giving you a side glance before turning back to watch out for the incoming dodgeballs. He bounced the one in his hand on the floor, up and down, and up and down. “He’s nice enough.”
“He’s annoying. Imagine trying to—”
Percy smacked the ball so hard in a sudden dash of audible annoyance, that he lost control of it. It happened so quickly you barely felt it. The red bouncy ball flung away from him, and straight into your chin. Your words cut off, your teeth trapped your tongue, and the taste of copper filled your mouth. Your hand went to your chin tentatively touching, while Percy’s eyes were wide.
“I’m sor—!”
Your head suddenly slammed to the side, and your body followed. A round of ‘ohhh!’s chorused through the gym and echoed, and pain flared up in your eye and cheek. Your hands and knees hit the deck painfully, with a solid bang, and embarrassment flooded your cheeks red. Laughter was all around you.
Percy knelt down in front of you, mouth tight and eyes worried. “Hey, come on…”
All you could feel then was spite. Spite for Grover, spite for Percy, spite for the laughter in the gym.
So much for quality time with Percy.
You found your feet without Percy’s help, and forced your way through the crowds of screaming and still-laughing kids. Your hands met the double doors flat and you pushed one open, letting it bang shut loudly behind you. Through the smaller space you walked to the next set of doors, and once those ones were closed, you could let the hurt tears begin to flood your vision. It really hurt. Your tongue had been cut, you could taste the hot, metallic blood. Your jaw was stinging, your left eye and cheek were numb to the touch but painful underneath, and a little swollen and burning.
You walked through silent, cool corridors away from the loud and sweaty gym. Your heart ached with embarrassment and the feeling of being left out, abandoned. Even your friend didn’t want you. Mia had gone. Grace was gone. You had…pretty much nobody. And that feeling forced the hot tears to slip down your hurting cheeks.
What made it worse?
Percy didn’t come after you.
The school nurse let you stay with her for a few minutes. Her name was Christie, a short woman in her early fifties with dyed-dark-purple hair in a short bob style, who always kindly let you drop in for a cup of tea and a chat. You’d done so since you were sent to the school, and she’d seen many of your problems—teeth falling out in the sink after a fight, she’d given you your vaccines after you tried to truant from them on the day, and she’d given you free biscuits when you wanted them. All in all, Christie was more of a parent than your dad and step-mom, who hadn’t once phoned up to ask how you were after the wilderness therapy. Which, yes, had changed you for the better, and unlike many kids who had traumatic experiences with it, you were grateful that it got you out of trouble and gave you time to think over what you’d done and appreciate life in general. But they didn’t particularly care, and it left you feeling, frankly, like shit.
“That’s gonna bruise, hon,” she said as she walked across to the freezer on the other side of the room. The door opened and showed blue ice pack after blue ice pack, one of which she pulled off the tray and threw to you. You caught it with nimble hands. “Take it easy with food, too. Hot stuff is really gonna irritate where you cut your mouth. I’d say soft foods like oats, soup, you know, all that jazz.” You nodded along to her words, albeit slightly painfully.
“So I just keep this on my face?” You asked, eyes glued to her while tentatively patting your bruised blue already cheek and eye. It was freezing.
“Sure thing, kid.”
And with that, you walked off down the corridors, all the way to a set of heavy doors which led to steps outside. You pushed them open and sat there in the warm air, the sun still hot in the sky and melting the ice pack in your hands after only a few minutes. You didn’t care much, though, even when the bell rang for next class, and the class after that. Before you knew it, you’d skipped three classes simply sitting outside and staring at the clouds. It was amazing how fast time went when you were tired. The ice pack had turned to water, and you entertained yourself by setting it across your knees and poking each side as the water was thrown back and forth with little sounds.
Or you did, until someone came along.
“Hey, B.”
You knew that voice. You’d recognise it anywhere. Percy Jackson, pleading for forgiveness. He’d done it before, when he pushed his chair back onto your foot and sat down on it. You’d limped for extra sympathy. But now, you really were hurt, your heart ached at your best friend dropping you for somebody else. And your face hurt, too, you couldn’t avoid feeling that.
You ignored him at first. His figure came to a stop, blocking you from the sun, and something knocked your shoulder. “I brought you a Snapple.”
“Don’t want your Snapple, thanks,” you bit back quietly, arms on your knees, looking anywhere but at him.
“I’ll give it to Grover t—”
You turned and snatched it from him, and saw he was smirking. Percy with a smirk did things to your hurting heart. Your step-mom called these feelings a crush. She said it was when you loved somebody, and liked to be around them. It was a different kind of love to friendship love or familial love. And you were certain you felt it for Percy. You had a crush. And a hard one, on your best friend.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, turning away again, knees pulled up, twisting the cap to the Snapple plastic cup. “I’ll give you the money back.”
“Don’t want your money,” he said, and you tried to keep your eyes off of him, but when he sat himself down right next to you, knees knocking into yours and his arm touching yours, you couldn’t help it. In this light, Percy was beautiful. His dark, dark waves shone glossily under sunlight, and his eyelashes were long and dusted his cheekbones when he blinked. And his cheekbones; well, they were covered in freckles, weren’t they, and his nose sloped gently to a perfect end. His eyes, a brilliant green, looked a lot more vibrant now.
“Got something on my face?” He asked lightly, and you watched the corner of his mouth curve, his cheeks turn pink. His eyes flitted away from yours and back again. You kept yours on him, blinking steadily.
“Yeah,” you admitted lightly, reaching up to gently poke his nose. “A nose.” Your hand went to his eye. “Two eyes. And a mouth. And technically your ears if they count.”
He rolled his eyes but kept his smile. Percy was that tiny bit taller than you, all bony knees and arms, skinny. In your eyes, he was perfect, and you were sure you liked him. Years later, you would be grateful for this moment, where you had the exact colours of him memorised, as you were stuck in total darkness.
But now, however, none of that had happened yet. Now, you spoke about class.
“You have to be my partner for the school trip next week,” Percy declared. He turned his head and looked at you, vibrant eyes on your own. “I can’t manage it otherwise.”
“Why?” You scrunched your nose. “You feeling sick?”
“I’m starting to get sick of Grover, that’s what.” This was music to your ears! “Just…will you be my partner?”
You gasped dramatically, and pushed your fist under Percy’s arm to link yours with his. He laughed. “Like you have to ask!”
And for the rest of the week, you kept the rivalry with Grover pretty low.
You tried to hide your smirk. You really did. But the more pieces of sandwich that Nancy Bobbofit threw at Grover’s head, the harder it became.
Yes, it was mean, but…Grover had successfully stolen your best friend. Suddenly he was clinging to Percy everywhere; you barely had the time to ask Percy what class he had next, as Grover was filling up the gaps between yourself and Percy with his questions and (begrudgingly) witty comments about other students. But that only made you feel worse, because if he could talk about them like that, then what on earth was he saying about you?
The field trip to the history museum with Mr. Brunner was a breathe of fresh air. You could escape the confines of school and wander about in the very home of your favourite thing: history. You could lose yourself in it for hours, enjoying talking about World War Two and the different eras.
You enjoyed it so, so much. You got away from the classroom for the day, and you wandered away quickly from the class of people who couldn’t care any less about any of the precious things around you, like ration cards from Germany in 1941, or bomb remains from Britain in 1943. You could enjoy yourself more without the stupid jokes or comments from classmates if you were on your own. So you did just that, and took off.
Or you were on your way to, until the new math teacher yelled your name.
You turned around slowly, feeling the annoyance begin to build at being kept back. The thin-faced woman in a black leather jacket and jeans had her arms folded, and a very fake smile.
“Hey, hunny,” she started sickeningly sweetly. “Don’t wander off from the group.”
“I’m talkin’ to you, girl!”
“I’m well aware!”
You carried on walking. Until something caught your wrist, and you were just about on the edge of a frustrated scream. You ripped your hand away. “I tol—”
Oh. “Oh! Sorry, I thought you were Mrs. Dodds,” you apologised, coming face-to-face with Percy. Today he wore the blue hoodie you’d bought him for Christmas, his first Christmas Yancy a couple months back, with jeans and sneakers. His backpack was slung over his shoulder, wavy, dark hair almost in his eyes. And God, those eyes—
“Dude, don’t leave me with her!” He hissed. “Besides, she’ll only follow y—”
“I have to accompany you both if you want to visit other areas of the museum.”
You yelped and jumped, heart racing, as you eyed the tiny math teacher. She was grinning sickeningly, like she wanted to accompany both yourself and Percy. Usually, teachers wanted nothing to do with students on school trips; it was their only time to slightly relax and wind down (your English teacher had told you that while drunk in a mall during a trip before Christmas). He’d been fired after, but the truthful knowledge stuck with you.
“Where first, then?” She asked sweetly—too sweetly, and you spun on your heel to clutch Percy’s warm hand in yours. His cheeks blossomed furious red, but he didn’t let go.
“The World War exhibits,” you said, sending Percy a side glance. You were going to get away from her as soon as possible. Holding his hand was a way of making a run for it and staying together. You lifted your free hand and pointed down the hall. “It’s that way.”
“Well, let’s not waste any time,” she doddered, and ushered you both along.
Something felt…off, you realised, as you paid attention to Percy’s and your own footsteps. Mrs. Dodds was close, too close for comfort, behind you both. It was probably that. Or Percy’s sweaty hand in yours. Or the stone in your shoe that was hurting—
“This way, hunnies,” she simpered, and you scrunched your nose, stopping in your tracks.
“But the sign says that way—” you raised your hand and pointed left, looking briefly down the corridor. A hand on your back pushed you forward, and you struggled to get away without going in that direction.
You looked right to Percy. He was frowning heavily, his eyes keeping watch of everything.
You prayed he felt the same. You wouldn’t feel as deranged that way. You just had a stomach feeling that something just wasn’t right. You felt heavy and like you needed to run away now.
“Ah, here we go.”
You stepped closer to Percy. This was most definitely not the war exhibits. This set of large doors she pushed you both through was just an empty hall besides railings and scaffolding, and dusty windows giving tiny slivers of light.
“Why are we here?” You spun furiously, heart racing with panic. Your hand left Percy’s, but what mattered now was that this didn’t feel right. “Does this look like rifles and uniforms to you?”
Mrs. Dodds’s skinny face suddenly looked…different. You couldn’t place your finger on it. For a second she looked older. But unless the world had passed ten years in ten seconds, it was impossible.
Percy’s footsteps got quieter the further he walked away. You spun around and wanted to shriek at him don’t leave me! You were in this together, weren’t you? But he wasn’t stopping looking around, so you took off running after him.
“Something’s wrong,” you whispered, keeping looking forward. “I don’t feel right.”
He nodded discreetly. “Same. I’m looking for somewhere we can go.”
“Oh, you won’t be leaving.”
Goosebumps ran up your skin. You shivered. This voice was not the voice of Mrs. Dodds. Not in any way.
And apparently, not in any shape or form, either. Because something screamed in a god-awful tone that would haunt your dreams for years, and when you turned, it wasn’t a person in her place, but a creature. A large thing with leathery, grey skin and wings, and sharp teeth and awful eyes. And as she flew at you both, you screamed louder than you’d ever screamed before. It hurt your throat so bad, and as you sprinted out of the way, Percy yelled out too.
This thing did not give up. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you thought you’d have a heart attack. It shrieked so loud you thought you’d go deaf.
And then, as it flew at Percy, it said something in that awful, grainy voice. “I’ll kill you first. Your blood matters more.”
And then you realised���the door was open range. You could run and get help for whatever the hell was happening.
And then, as if heaven had answered your prayers, the doors opened.
Revealing a wimp, and a teacher.
You could have screamed. What were they going to do against this thing that was out for blood? No, you needed proper help.
And it came in the form of—
“Percy! Take this!”
A pen. You really did scream then. Out of terror for the thing that caught Percy by the neck of his hoodie, and out of fear and anger.
But he did, Percy caught it, and as you ran into the safety of being behind Mr. Brunner, you watched something weirder happen—the pen turned into a sword.
Percy’s arms dropped with the weight of it. But he raised it and swung aimlessly.
And it caught the thing in the head. It screeched so loud your eyes rang, and both yourself and Grover—who was hopping from foot to foot flittingly—hurriedly covered your ears with your hands.
And as Percy dropped heavily back to the ground, the thing turned into pure gold dust.
And all that was left, was silence.
And later, when you questioned Mr. Brunner in anger and fear, he told you to go talk to the counsellor. You were stressed, he said. And you grew even angrier.
“I am not!” You yelled at the top of your lungs. Something in his eyes showed pity. “I know what I saw and how I felt!”
He insisted you talk to the counsellor. After that, it was as if she’d never been at Yancy. There was some other math teacher now—one you didn’t know the name of, since you skipped all math lessons—and whenever you mentioned Mrs. Dodds, people would give you weird looks.
Everyone but Grover.
You turned to him because you knew he was nervous and jumpy. You could get answers. When you mentioned Mrs. Dodds in a flit of fury, he would scatter about and jump and say ‘I don’t know, alright?!’ and literally run off. He was scared of you, but you were scared, too.
And it all became even worse, the night you stayed with Percy and his mom.
It had been loud already. The sea was crashing and roaring against the shore in a way you’d never heard before. You’d done the wilderness therapy, and never had you come across weather like this.
In the end, Percy’s mom, Sally, woke you both up—though you’d barely slept in the first place—and ushered you into the car.
And that wasn’t the most unsettling part—it was the sight of Grover in the doorway.
“You!” You narrowed your eyes. “You’re here! Why?”
Sally turned to you with a desperate expression. “He’s trying to help, hon. Now get in the car, we need to go!”
The weather was so loud, it was headache-inducing. And the car smelled of wet dog with Grover in the front seat.
“You own a Rasta cap!” You exclaimed, fuming, as Panicked Percy tried to calm you down. “You smell of wet dog! And you FOLLOWED US HERE!” Your blood froze with your breathing when you felt vibrations through your shoes. At first, you thought maybe it was the weather. After all, besides that and Grover, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Percy had pulled you in front of him and blocked you every time you tried to turn around all the way to the car. But something really did roar now, and you looked straight at Percy.
“What the fu—!”
And on that line, the car flipped.
Your head went fuzzy. Your arm burst into sharp pain that made you scream with the others in the car as it turned on its hood. Pressure rose in your head from being upside down. And in the windscreen mirror, you watched a tall, large giant of a monster get closer and closer. It roared so loud your bones shook, and you really did scream again after that.
You looked to Percy, who was fighting to get out of his seat belt, and you looked down to do the same.
Except you looked at your arm, and witnessed your wrist puffy and floppy, and coloured dark already. Broken. You practically felt the colour drain from your face. Everything felt…rushed? Too quick. Too hard to comprehend.
And you wouldn’t remember running from the car. You couldn’t recall how you got out of it. But you remembered Percy’s mom being snatched up by that monster as she screamed blue murder. Percy screamed right with her. Grover was pulling on your arm to get you to run.
“Straight ahead!” He kept yelling. “Right up ahead up the hill! Don’t stop!”
But you were stuck watching. You were stuck watching Percy clamber onto the thing in tears and rainwater and pale, you were stuck in your place as his mom was crushed to nothing, and you were stuck as Percy yanked the thing’s horn, and heard it snap off.
The only time you moved again?
To help Grover pull Percy up the hill.
You were confused and scared and disorientated and nothing was making sense. And Percy had passed out. You were all drenched by the time you reached an archway.
Grover told you to go on ahead over the sound of thunder clapping and roaring in the sky. You didn’t even know what you were doing. It was as if you were on autopilot. You didn’t feel yourself running, and running so fast you’d never ran so quick before. Your wrist ached and pulsed. You felt sick. Your throat was raw from screaming.
You felt a little like you’d lost yourself, you’d never felt this before.
And you collapsed at the feet of Mr. Brunner, feet tucked under you as you heaved for breath, and then looked up. Mr. Brunner. Except Mr. Brunner wasn’t in his wheelchair. Your first thought was oh, hey, a pony! And then…
“What the hell?” You yelled, your tears mixed with the rain.
You sat with a warm blanket and hot cocoa, as Percy was tended to. And allowed the floods of tears to come as they came.
Chapter three
A long chapter, sorry guys! But I hope you enjoyed this! It’s a little rushed so we can get into the main plot, but hopefully it wasn’t too bad!
Taglist: @bl6ody @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @hawkeye12 @rory-cakes
#capsize#pjo#Percy Jackson x reader#Percy x reader#hoo#percy jackson#trials of apollo#annabeth chase#heroes of olympus#jason grace#leo valdez#nico di angelo#fanfiction#the lightening thief#pjo x oc#pjo x reader#percabeth#Spotify
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Touch-Averse | Kiyoomi Sakusa x Reader
✧ Summary: Physical affection was something you loved, and while Sakusa was not exactly the biggest fan, you didn’t want to encroach on him. You weren’t expecting your boyfriend to get jealous!
➳ A/N: Hey! This has been waiting around for so long; I think I steered a little too into the angst with this one asfdgfhj ;-; ➳ Tags: Angst with a happy ending, komori is a lil shit; ➳ Masterlist
—xXxXxXxXxXx—
By all intents and purposes, Sakusa was the perfect boyfriend.
You were friends before through Komori since junior high and one thing led to another before the wing-spiker finally asked you out. You knew long before as his friend that he was averse to physical contact — even if it was under two layers of gloves.
No, the germaphobe kept everyone at a distance further from arms length. He wanted to keep things neat and orderly and straying from that made him uncomfortable.
And it warmed your heart that, despite this life-long struggle, Sakusa still let you into his world in little ways.
He would hold your hand through the halls of school (of course, you had to thoroughly wash your hands first and then get his personal approval). And, on lucky days like when Itachiyama won their practice matches that week, Sakusa would kiss you on the forehead openly in public.
All you had to do was vocalize things, keep the roads of communication between you two and he would respond. If you wanted to come over to his family home or vice versa — just let him know ahead of time and he would be happy to accommodate you. You want to go on a date to the arcade? Sure, send him a text and he’ll pencil you in for a couple days from now. A part of you also liked wearing his sweaters, the ones that plastered his last-name across the back. And on request, Sakusa let you wear his own to school.
Sakusa was generally aware of your needs and was not against being vocal about your relationship. You knew all about this prior to being his official girlfriend and had even found it endearing how much he cared about your personal health.
All it took was a look.
A single look was enough to plant the seed of doubt and make it take root.
It was after volleyball practice — you had stayed behind after your student council duties and went over to the courts instead of heading straight back to the dorms. You hadn’t told Sakusa before that you would be visiting, just popping in so you can walk back together.
You waved at the others, Komori noticing you first from the sidelines and greeting you. Some others from the team took notice beside him and recognized you from being friends with the second-years.
Between the break, you approached Sakusa’s pack where you knew he would go, happy to greet him.
He shot you the most disgusted look you had ever seen.
After, Sakusa had greeted you in his usual monotone voice. Voice clipped and simply drinking his water, Sakusa was there for a quick minute before returning back to the match without so much as a goodbye.
Your walk back to the dorms was eerily silent.
It could have been nothing, just a look that he always had in his resting judgmental grandma face. But for some reason it stuck to you, how mean his tone was towards his girlfriend of all people and how quick he was to get away from you after.
You tried to wave it off, give him the benefit of the doubt as you lay awake in your dorm room. Not saying anything to your roommate, you internalized most of your feelings and let it continue to fester below the surface.
He already didn’t like physical touch with you. But you had just greeted him, hardly pushing into his comfortable space. But even so, it was clear Sakusa had still been disgusted with you.
Was this what he really thought about you?
You tried your best to wave it off — maybe he wasn’t feeling too well that day? Maybe the match was annoying him? Maybe something just happened with his other teammates?
And so the next day after you were done with your extracurriculars, you dropped by the gym again just to see how Sakusa was doing.
Sakusa was quick to find in the crowd of boys, his tall height and curly black hair bobbing along as he readied to jump in the air. Seeing him spike, hearing the smack of power as it slammed into the floor, it always made you so proud at how fair he had come.
That moment didn’t last long.
No, it was pushed out by another emotion entirely.
The coach called the players on the opposite side, ringing them in to give some tips to them specifically. Sakusa’s side backed off to grab drinks of their water, the main manager running up to him with a towel in hand.
And Sakusa let her wipe at his face.
A small dab at his forehead and at the sides of his face and the moment was over. But that was not what you saw. You saw your boyfriend, your long-term friend, allow someone in his close space to touch his face of all things! You still had to wear gloves sometimes. And here she was, noses only inches away from one another, as she was allowed into his world.
What was it that made you so undesirable?
Was Sakusa annoyed with you? Had you been asking too much of him? You knew he was averse to the things you liked, but you never thought that it would push Sakusa away to this point.
You loved Sakusa and you had tried really hard to accommodate what he was looking for in a relationship. But was that really fair? Was he being fair to you at this point? Did he even view you as anything special, as his girlfriend?
Walking out the gym without a single word, you turned around with all intents to go back to your room and reevaluate your decisions. You failed to notice Komori’s wandering eyes that followed you out the open doors.
Your roommate commented that you looked terrible that night and was a willing open ear for you. You were grateful beyond compare, she was an awesome friend that you shared classes with and was alsoa member in the student council.
But instead of venting, you just relished in the tight hug she gave you. This physical touch was what you crazed and, while it had never really affected you before, it made you sad that this was something Sakusa would never want.
Was it really fair to have to schedule a hug with him?
Did he even want you as his girlfriend?
You internalized this hard and the it was hard to even look at Sakusa the next day at school, these thoughts only propping up again and again. What hurt even more is that you were actively avoiding the wing-spiker and it seemed that he did not even notice. Just went about his day, avoiding most people and sticking to corners alone.
But you were his girlfriend. He avoided most people but should that really include you?
Did he feel like you were suffocating him? You loved him and didn’t want to lose him. And so if he wanted space, you were willing to give it to him. But for Sakusa to treat you so cruelly when you were trying so hard - was it even fair at this point?
A text-tone from your phone permeated the room and you felt your spirits almost physically lift themselves up at the prospect of Sakusa reaching out to you.
But his text only made your heart drop.
Give me back my sweater already. Sakusa’s words read, Don’t you have your own?
And suddenly your thoughts of doubt were solidified as fact in your mind.
Grabbing the sweater from your bedside, you almost cried as you folded it up. Sakusa’s terms of endearment were few and far between, you wearing his sweater was one of the few things you could compromise on. And now he did not even want that.
You went about your morning weakly, going into Sakusa’s homeroom and leaving the sweater in a bag there. Alongside it was only a small note that you did not have time to wash it while it was in the bag. You did not wait a moment longer, dropping off the package and hoping to avoid him the rest of the day.
And throughout the school hours, you were doing a good job. During lunch you were able to avoid spending time with both Sakusa and Komori, leaving your classroom the moment the teacher dismissed you and retreating to the outside area behind school. Would it do you any good to confront Sakusa over something that he probably did not even care about? Was he planning on breaking up with you?
These thoughts only continued to plague you throughout the day and the more you continued to ponder on it - the worse it got. Maybe he always viewed you this way, just humoring your relationship for the sake of your friendship.
Your mindset spiraled downward worse and worse and you had little initiative to even go to club activities after school. Your roommate had vouched for you at the student council meeting while you went back to the dorms depressed and very not well dressed.
The moment your phone dinged to life you shot up in repressed excitement, wondering if Sakusa had noticed your mood and reached out.
It was Komori.
Hey, missed ya during lunch. Wanna catch dinner together?
Of course, it was Komori.
You wondered for a hot second if it would be smart to go with the libero out to dinners the campus cafeteria. Odds are you were going to pour your feelings out to the boy and he was undoubtedly loyal to Sakusa. Komori was always one of your closest friends, even before dating the wing-spiker.
Another ding ringed out a second later.
Come on, you’re my friend too.
It was almost like he was reading your mind - the poor boy was probably so used to your evasiveness from before that it was no doubt he remembered it.
You typed back, Okay, I’ll meet you after practice.
See you then <3
You texted your roommate that you would be meeting with the libero, so as not to worry when she returned. In the meantime, you hung around your room and completed some of your homework early. Once Komori texted you that he was ready, you put on a large hoodie and some leggings, trying your best to look presentable despite your solemn expression.
“Hey!” Komori perked up when he saw you, already at a table in the cafeteria. Thankfully he was sitting alone. The moment you were close enough, Komori pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.
Komori always gave the best hugs and you squeezed your arms around his middle right back. It had been a while since he, or any male for that matter hugged you like this. Most of the male population at school was well aware of your relationship with Sakusa and all it took was a look from the strong spiker to get most to back off.
But with Komori being his best friend and also one of yours, he was one of the few people who could get away with sharing you in a warm embrace. However, you did notice as of late that he was withholding some of the best hugs from you.
“Thanks for joining me tonight.” Komori continued, leaning back while you were still in his arms. “I know you’ve been kind of down.”
“Yeah.”
“Listen, you can tell me anything or nothing if you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with - I just wanted to spend this time with you so you know you’re not alone.”
You almost teared up on the spot, with the exception of your roommate, it had been so long since someone had been so considerate with your feelings. Komori was the best bro and just all friend anyone could ask for.
Nuzzling further into his chest, you shakily replied. “You’re the best, Komori.”
Komori guided you to the seats, telling you that he had actually placed a comfort food order and was waiting for the number to be called. You smiled at him in response, placing your hands on the table and mentally preparing for what you wanted to say.
It felt almost therapeutic, admitting to the libero all the feelings that you had bottled up over the past few days. Komori nodded along, listening to you without cutting in or interrupting with his own point of view. He took in every word, keen on gaining your perspective before he added on.
“It makes me wonder, does Sakusa even want to be in this relationship?” You asked aloud, baring your insecurity to him.
Little did you know that Sakusa was reacting exactly opposite to what you were thinking.
Komori had actually invited the wing-spiker to join this dinner, but he had simply walked away in silence back to his own dorm.
Sakusa would never admit this aloud, but he cherished you in so many ways that it frightened him. Your relationship was built on years of knowing each other. And from the beginning of it all, Sakusa knew that he was all in. From high school to the end of your days, he was sure that this was the only relationship he wanted to ever be in. You were the first and only person he ever loved and he wanted to be that for you too.
And with that thought, Sakusa had always been afraid of losing you. He wondered, on multiple occasions, if you would be happier with someone else. After all, yes you were friends for a while, but you were much closer to Komori before you were in a relationship.
Sakusa saw it all - he knew how you leaned into the libero for tight hugs and how the both of you were still fond of spending time alone together. He had never doubted you or his cousin’s loyalty; neither you nor Komori would ever do anything to hurt him, Sakusa was sure. But he had a much more looming fear, one that frightened him simply because it was probably true, that you would probably be happier with Komori.
The libero was capable of easily reading your mood and reacting to it properly. It was Komori after all that noticed you had left the gymnasium the other day without greeting either male. He was very in-tune to your personality and it seemed the both of you were very agreeable. Sakusa remembered the time that many of your classmates had thought it was you and Komori dating after all.
Sakusa would honestly never forget that.
And so the wing-spiker had thought on multiple occasions if you would be happier in the arms of another. Maybe someone who had more time for you, who liked being as affectionate as you did.
Admittedly, Sakusa knew something was off from the moment you returned the sweater. He knew that you cherished wearing it for some reason. But you had it over a week and it was time for him to wash it. After all, it must have been dirty from overuse at this point and he did not want you possibly getting sick from something he wore.
Besides, he could just lend you another cleaner sweater for you to wear.
This was simply the way he thought - cut and dry and oftentimes misconstrued by other people.
But the last person he ever wanted to hurt was you.
Sucking in a hard breath, Sakusa attempted to figure out what to say. Not that he was unsure what to get across, but that he wanted to get out the proper wording before he caused any true damage to you. He must have been standing in the middle of his dorm room for a good twenty minutes, trying to keep a level head as different phrases evaded him.
Calm and collected, he told himself as he got near the cafeteria.
The last thing he wanted to ever see greeted him - you and Komori standing alongside a cafeteria table, you in his arms as he held you tightly.
It seemed you were still in the middle of your meal, your trays of food still stacked with chopsticks to the side. Regardless of the situation, Sakusa stalked over quietly and made his presence extremely known.
From Komori’s nice hug to suddenly pulled into another, your ten seconds of panic morphed into surprise at seeing your boyfriend.
“Sakusa!” You exclaimed, head against his chest as he continued to stare down his cousin. “This looks bad, but I was just talking to Komori about something.”
Komori only laughed, picking up his tray and taking it with him elsewhere. “See you tomorrow, lovebirds.”
“I--” You stuttered over your words as the libero made his quick escape, “We were in the middle of a meal!”
“We need to talk.”
Wait.
Was Sakusa breaking up with you right now?
You felt fresh tears break your visage as you asked him outright, “Are you breaking up with me?”
Sakusa recoiled before grabbing your hand, “No. Let’s go.”
You allowed him to drag you wordlessly, following along as he led you back to his dorm. He unceremoniously brought you along with him - was he sparing your feelings by breaking up with you away from the public eye?
The worries must have shown up on your face since, once you entered the elevator, Sakusa took one look at you before pulling you into his embrace again. He lingered for a second, as if unsure where to place himself, then leaned down to put a small mask-covered kiss on your forehead. You stilled at the motion, surprised that he was willing to show any display of affection in public.
The moment was only broken when he pulled you toward his dorm room, closing it loudly behind you.
“Why would you think that I would want to break up with you?” Sakusa asked, not at all sugar-coating his words.
You hesitated, looking at the ground before back at him. “Sakusa, are you even happy being with me?”
His eyes peeking over the mask widened in surprise. In the next second, Sakusa pulled his mask off and threw it in the direction of his trash bin. You took a step back at his aggressiveness, but he only followed the movement and wrapped an arm around your waist.
Sakusa pulled you against him and stated clearly, “I want to be with you forever, if given the chance.”
“Really?”
He did not hesitate in response, “Yes.”
You smiled at how sure he was, but his actions from the last few days still had you on edge. With a hand on his chest, you bit your lip before asking. “You don’t feel like I’m suffocating you?”
Sakusa angled his head in question before shooting back, “Why would you assume that?”
“I just feel like you don’t really want me around?” You admitted, words coming out slowly. “I mean, the other day you just seemed like you didn’t want me at your practice. And then I saw your manager dabbing you with the towel and even I can’t even hug you without warning.”
Sakusa simply stared at you as you spoke, his full attention to your words as he recalled the past few days.
“I like spending time with you, but at practice I was sweaty and you were still in your school uniform. It would be unfair to you if I was the one to sully it.” Sakusa replied, “While I am not close to the manager, handling the towels is one of her responsibilities. And I prefer to get toweled down rather than do it myself then touch the volleyball with sweaty hands.”
“Oh.”
You were at a loss for words once he explained himself.
“What about the other day?” You recalled, “I get that you don’t like me wearing your sweaters, but you should have just told me outright.”
You were not expecting Sakusa to shoot you a tired smile.
He moved to kiss your forehead again, lips lingering above your brow before he spoke. “I like seeing you in my sweaters. It reminds everyone that you’re mine.”
“What?”
“But you had that sweater for more than five days, right?” Sakusa answered with a question, “I have the proper detergent to clean it. It would do you no good if you got dirty or even sick from one of my articles of clothing.”
“Oh.”
You were an idiot.
An overthinking, doubtful, big dumb idiot.
You felt the small exhale against his chest, tantamount to a small laugh from Sakusa. “Oh?”
“I just--” You tried to articulate yourself, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“I’m sorry I doubted you.” You admitted, “There are just these moments. I know you don’t like physical touch that much, but there are times I want to hug you or kiss you. And I get the feeling that you don’t like it.”
You heard Sakusa exhale above you, before feeling a slight nudging at your chin. Using his free hand, the wing-spiker was guiding your gaze back to him. He had an oddly fond expression on, before he leaned forward to slot your lips against his.
Leaning forward into the kiss, you carded your fingers in his curly mop of hair, arms crossed behind his neck. He pulled you as close as possible, lingering in the moment of your passionate lip-lock before settling you back down on your feet.
“I love kissing you.” Sakusa stated fondly, eyes still glued to yours.
You laughed breathlessly, “I know that now.”
“Good.” Sakusa replied, “I’m not good at these things. I can’t comfort you like others do, but please trust in me. Communicate with me - not your roommate and not Komori.”
“Okay. I’m sorry that I closed myself off.” You apologized, receiving a second kiss back.
You were caught off-guard, like the hesitation Sakusa had before was suddenly lifted from its floodgates. He pecked you one, twice, returning over and over as he lost himself in the feel of your lips against his.
“I have two newly cleaned sweaters for you to choose from.” Sakusa whispered, as if this was his version of sweet nothings. “I would prefer it if you wore one tomorrow.”
You shot him back a radiant smile, one that he eagerly savored in the back of his memory. “I would love to.”
Your relationship did not magically fix in that single night, but you resolved to continue working on your communication. It was a two-way street, one that the both of you had to work on.
But by God, you two loved each other.
And that was all that mattered.
#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa kiyoomi smau#sakusa kiyoomi fluff#sakusa x reader#kiyoomi sakusa x reader#sakusa x y/n#sakusa x you#hq sakusa#haikyuu!! x#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu angst#hq angst#hq fluff#haikyuu fluff#hq jealous#hq headcanons#hq headcanon#hq imagines#hq imagine#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x y/n#hq x reader#hq x you#sakusa kiyoomi x you#sakusa imagines#sakusa imagine#kiyoomi sakusa imagine
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Field Trip? Really?
Natasha x Daughter!reader
Fluff, mama nat <3
request- Hello could you please read it is Natasha's daughter and she's going on a school trip to the avengers tower but nobody knows that Natasha is her mother @maveldc25
Warnings- mention of choking on water, one swear word, and mama nat <3
Extra Pairings::
Peter Parker x Romanoff!reader
Romanoff!reader x bestfriend
Not my gif* found on pinterest
F/N = Friends name
You walked into class and, the second you sat down and read the board you almost had a heart attack:
SCHOOL FLEID TRIP TODAY!! AVENGERS TOWER :)
You half choked on the water you had sipped from your water bottle, earning a few glances from classmates to see if you were ok.
Then all of a sudden you remembered a few weeks ago
---
*Flashback to two weeks ago*
"Ok, Class you can all pack up a little early, today... On that note, In two weeks we will be going on a field trip to, The Avengers Tower, the Avengers will be there to give us, well a little tour!" Your teacher exclaimed, clearly a bit excited herself.
You on the other hand, you were in shock.
COMPLETE SHOCK.
----
Peter stopped you in the hall after school was over
"Y/n!" He shouted your name
You turned around and smiled at him "yes?"
He looked worried "Well what are you gonna do?"
"Don't know." Your smile drops trying to think of things to do "You know we aren't in the same block, right? Just the same class"
"Yeah, I know." He rolled his eyes.
"So then you have nothing to worry about." You smirk at him, walking away and trying to rack your brain of a way to get out of it.
It's not like you could stay home, AT THE AVENGERS TOWER..!!
----
The bus ride was thankfully not too long, but the second the Tower was in view, you got a bit nervous of the possibilities, you tried remembering that they don't know, but if anyone could blow it for you, it was ALL OF THE AVENGERS
Sadly they would all be there...
---
Your class was jumbled in a group near the front doors, each group in front of you leaving one by one, and seeing Peter's class walk off with Steve Rogers, Ned admiring him and flash taking multiple pictures of Mr. America.
The group in front of you left with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, you remember the night before them arguing about having to be some sort of team the next day. They never shared the specifics.
You hadn't seen Natasha and hoped to God that she wasn't leading your group.
Then out walked, none other than..
The Natasha Romanoff herself, and you hid behind the group, trying to not be seen.
----
Your teacher on the other hand, moved towards her "Hello! I am Eliza, this classes main teacher! It's so nice to meet you! The whole class is so excited to learn all about the Avengers Tower and everyone inside it!!" Your teacher exclaimed happily shaking her hand
Natasha quickly scanned the group, smiling at them, completely missing you.
"Yes, very nice to meet all of you!" She gave a small smile
"Well, we should get started." She turned on her heel and walked off towards the elevators as you all quickly followed
You were somehow squished two kids away from your mom on the elevator, thankfully the two kids where rather tall.
Blocking you from Natasha's view.
----
You had forgotten how cool the Tower really was..
The lab had totally be redone since you last went in, and all the floors you went on seemed totally different, then what you remembered..
----
Natasha, After maybe 20 minutes had finally spotted you talking to one of your friends in the class, while everyone was walking around the Lab.
You looked up from Tony's latest invention in progress and stared right into your mother's eyes, from across the room, and she was smiling at you. The second you noticed who you were looking at, you looked away and walked over to rest of the group, looking at one of The IronMan suits, with your friend, now by your side.
"Alright everyone, we should be moving on.." Your mom said looking over your classmates and landing on you, as voices exclaimed how cool Tony Stark is..
She smiles to herself as everyone lines up, you reminded her of how you were when you first got to the Tower, so shy and unwilling to keep eye contact for very long, your nerves use to keep you from it.
You get pulled to the front, as your friend wanted to stand closer to ✨The Black Widow ✨
It was stupid, that just because no one knew that Natasha Romanoff was your mom, you were nervous. It would have been better if you were in the back, but your friend would have insisted on standing in the front.
----
You were now in one of the many common rooms, the one that not everyone used very much, you were walking with your friend looking at the all the group photos of the Avengers on the wall with dates, you moved away from your friend to look for the year you came to the Tower, almost 6 years ago...
You found it and smiled to yourself remembering where you stood for the photo.
Right next to Natasha, you remembered hugging her side and when she laughed, you smiled just slightly and the photo was taken..
You weren't in the photo on the wall, but you remember they took two photos, you were only in one.
---
"Hey! Everybody gather round. Gather Round!" Your teacher clapped her hands and we all took seats, facing the wall of the pictures, either on the ground or if you were lucky, which you weren't, some people got to sit on the couch.
"There all yours.." Your teacher smiled at Miss Romanoff
"Thank you.. As you all could see we have dates on all our yearly photos,"
She glanced at you
"we have a few copies of each that everyone can chose one and take it home, at the end!" She slowly continued, after the few claps died down from your fascinated teacher
"My personal favorite is.." She points to a photo in the middle of the wall
You started to get nervous again
"this one.." She smiled softly and glanced at you again before looking at the rest of the group of happy faces
She was pointing at the photo, they had taken almost 6 years ago...
You never knew that.
You never knew she had a favorite.
You never knew you were her favorite.
You smiled genuinely to yourself, well to yourself and Natasha saw you as she was helping your teacher hand out photos
You were nervous again, but..
You were happy. <3
---
Natasha took your whole class to the Tower's Gym, exclusively showing you all where The Tony Stark worked out.
It was cool seeing it, like you weren't in there yesterday, kicking Mr. America's ass
----
Now that the day was coming to a close, Natasha took your class back down the elevator to the lobby.
When you all got in the elevator, you stood right next to Natasha, your friend right next to you looking at the wall
"F/N?" You whispered
They looked over at you, and gave a small smile
"Wanna switch spots?" There face lit up with joy and nodded
You both moved and you looked over at your friend smiling excitedly to themselves.
You smiled at the scene.
----
After getting off the elevator, your friend told you every little detail about what happened very excitedly...
"EVERYONE LINE UP" Your teacher shouted at you all
"WAIT WAIT-" Everyone's jaw dropped
You looked over and saw that...
Tony Stark had walked out into the lobby, and a few kids from all the different classes were taking photos of him
"Before you go.." He swooshed his hand to the side and behind him was a fancy box filled with pens that had the "Stark" logo on them
Multiple kids ran up, as everyone, besides yourself, followed.
Tony noticed you weren't in the messy line for a pen, then did a double take and scrunched up his face
You gave a small wave
He understood immediately and shot you some hand guns
Natasha saw the whole thing and was biting the inside of her cheek trying to not laugh.
Your friend came back showing you the pen, admiring it fully..
You were glad your friend as least wasn't stressed out by this outing.
----
Once back at school, everyone was talking happily with each other, wearing their backpacks waiting for the final bell
*DING*
You said a 'goodbye' to your friend, and they thanked you for the elevator ride, saying you were a good friend.
-----
You pushed open the heavy door to the outside, the light blinding you for a split second, as you walked towards the familiar black tinted car
You opened the door and sat down
"Hey mama.." You closed the door
"Hey bub, how was your day?" She questioned you oddly, starting the car
"It was good, um it was really fun." You changed your answer after registering what she had asked
"It was, really fun.." You look down at your hands and hesitated but finally said
"I never knew that was your favorite photo."
Your mother smiled "It is.. The one with you, I mean.." She said checking to make sure no cars were coming to make a right at the light
You smiled again, this time out the window at the passing trees..
Natasha looked over at you at the red light and smiled to herself, leaning over to kiss your head
"Love you, Y/n/n."
"Love you, mama."

#natasha romanoff#mama nat#mama nat <3#natasha x daughter!reader#natasha x teen reader#Natasha x teen!daughter!reader#natasha x child!reader#avengers#tony stark#platonic#mama nat x adopted!daughter!reader#platonic avengers#the tower#peter parker x y/n
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♡ starting prompt: “Everything changed for me when I met her... My Beloved.”
♡ pairing: yandere! damian wayne (Robin) & fem reader
♡ lyric inspiration: “imagine me and you? I do. I think about day and night, it’s only right, to think about the girl you love and hold her tight. so happy together.”
♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / in this AU everyone in the batfamily is a yandere and probably has a darling so yeah.
Gotham Academy, for the wealthy and elite one might say. you were one of the lucky ones who got accepted through their scholarship programs and busted your ass off to keep your grades up all years.
you had very few friends considering most Academy students hardly interacted those who they deemed poor. one friend you did have though was the Wayne heir himself. Damian was one of the first to introduce himself to you when you first arrived to Gotham Academy and really remained your friend throughout the years.
the fresh morning air blew in the wind, making you pull your jacket closer to you as you tried to find warmth in it. the jackets they provided for your uniform were extremely thin and hardly held in any kind of heat.
“hey! I think the Wayne kid is looking for you!” you heard your friend, Reagan tell you, “he’s waiting for you at the central garden!” you gave him a smile, thanking him for letting you know before running to where Damian usually was in the morning.
your mornings with Damian, when he would attend school, would start with him bringing you your favorite coffee and switching homework assignments.
unlike Damian, you were usually better in courses that had to do with humanities, such as history and english courses and you lacked the smarts that Damian had with science and math courses so the two of you would swap homework first thing in the morning.
“good morning Wayne,” you said, sitting down on the bench. he handed you his coffee, blowing it to make sure it wasn’t too hot, “good morning, beloved. how did you sleep?” he asked, making sure your eye bags weren’t too harsh.
you shrugged, “I’m okay. just stressed because of midterms and all of that. how did you sleep?” you asked, taking a sip of coffee. “great considering we fell asleep on Facetime together,” he mentioned, “I did the ap calc homework that you can finally copy!” he added on.
Damian handed you the calc homework as he watched you scribble down the answers. he noticed that you had painted your nails a new color and touched the polish with his finger, “baby blue? that’s new,” he murmured. you nodded happily, “I love this color on me. I even brought color with me in case it chipped throughout the day!” you exclaimed.
you showed him the bottle and he grabbed it, “put it on me,” you were taken back by the request. you didn’t take Damian was the kind of guy to dabble in wearing polish but nevertheless complied and put the polish on it before grabbing his hand and blowing on it to make it dry quicker, “I didn’t know you wore nail polish!” you mentioned.
Damian thought for a moment.
“I don’t but that way people will know we’re matching,” he murmured as the warning bell rang off.
you and Damian walked slowly to your first period class. the summer going into your Senior year, Damian made it a duty of his to make sure that the two of you shared the same classes. so without you knowing, he had Tim hack into the Gotham Academy school system and pull Damian onto the rosters where you were enrolled in.
you found the similarities to be funny, however; some of the teachers wondered how the hell they put the two of you in every class together. some didn’t care considering you were able to keep Damian from saying smart shit to someone in class and others were just weirded out by the coincidence.
“god, I hate this class. you know Matt who sits in front of the class? I have to swear some gross comment about how great my legs look in the uniform by him at least twice every day.”
Damian’s eye twitched at what you had said, “does it bother you?” he asked, his fist clenched. you nodded annoyingly, “more than anything in the world. I can’t go one day without hearing the comments,” you groaned.
the two of you got to class but as you walked in, you had saw that Matt wasn’t in class and sighed in relief. Damian had told you he was running off to the bathroom before class started and just to write down whatever he missed while he was gone.
you sat down, immediately writing what was already on the board but as the class started, Damian still hadn’t shown up. you were beginning to think that maybe the coffee had upset his stomach but about half way through the class, Damian came and plopped down at his desk.
“where were you? Jackson nearly had a fit because you were late!” you muttered to him. he shrugged, taking out his pen and notebook before leaning over to copy what you had on yours.
it took about another twenty minutes when another teacher ran into the class frantically, “Matthew Harrison was just found in the garden, unconscious and is barely hanging onto his life!” the teacher told your teacher, making all of you gasp in surprise, “call an ambulance!”
you stared to Damian wide eyed, “my God, that’s insane! we were just there. I wonder who did it,” you told Damian, chewing your lip nervously, “I hope whoever did it doesn’t come for any of us.”
Damian could tell you were scared from the news and he quickly grabbed your hand, “I think you’re safe, beloved. you shouldn’t worry about it,” he assured you. you nodded, going back to writing down the notes, “hey, he finally got what he deserved for harassing you, right?” Damian mentioned.
you laughed shaking your head, “I guess but I mean, I hope he doesn’t die or anything,” that was the last thing you said before the both of you got to working on the work the teacher assigned for the class while she was gone.
Damian could tell you were shaken by the news but at the end of the day, he did what he had to do. someone was harassing his beloved and he’d be damned if they got away with it. it took every ounce of self restriction to stop himself from actually killing the idiot but the beating he actually gave him did more than enough to satisfy him for the time being.
two broken legs, a broken nose, and making him go blind in one eye was more than enough. the great thing about Gotham Academy was that because of how old the building was, cameras weren’t installed anywhere outside and any cameras that were inside were just in the upgraded part of the school which happened to be the front of the school and the gym.
the end of the day came as Damian had offered to take you home. you denied the request, telling him you wanted to walk to get some fresh air before you trapped yourself in your room for the rest of the night.
Damian was hesitant on letting you but at the end of the day, you weren’t his...yet. he knew his feelings for you weren’t exactly normal. far from it, actually.
when his feelings for you boiled over to damn near obsession, he confided in the one person he trusted the most and that was Dick. he practically confessed how he needed to be near or around you every day or else he would go insane. even if it was just seeing you from afar made his day a 100x better.
Dick laughed at his brothers confession because he knew it was about time it happened to him. he had gone through the same feelings when he met his now wife and so did Bruce, Tim, Duke, and Jason.
when Damian was finally confident enough to tell everyone else, they finally let him in on the family secret. these feelings were nothing to be afraid of. he should embrace them and hell, make his feelings get even ‘worse’. it was his job as your protector to feel that way and act on his instincts for you.
Damian got home, seeing his father and brother watching the news. they were covering what happened at school and a part of him laughed seeing the coverage.
“did you see what happened?” Dick asked his brother. Damian nodded, kicking off his shoes and laying on the other couch, “of course I did because I was the one who did it,” he said nonchalantly.
Bruce and Dick stared at him, wide eyed and shocked, “the scum was messing with my beloved. he was making disgusting comments about her and degrading her in a way she and I didn’t like. the piece of shit deserved more than what he got,” he stated, not even bothering to look at them to see their reaction.
“so it’s best we don’t investigate this, I assume?” Bruce asked, “you would assume right,” Damian replied.
Dick got off the couch and went on one knee to look at his brother, “Damian, you know the implications that comes with how you left him. you know that, right?” he stated. Damian stared at Dick with no fear in his eyes, “everything changed for me when I met her... my beloved. I would kill for her if I had too.”
Bruce sat in his seat, proudly smirking at what his son said. Dick nodded, walking back to the couch as Damian stood up to go to his bedroom, “it’s only a matter of what before I make her mine so expect her to be around soon enough,” he told them.
+
a few weeks had passed since the incident with your classmate. since then, you had gotten clingier to Damian, not wanting to be at the end of the beating. Daimian had no issue in it, he was practically basking in the touches and side hugs you were giving him.
you and Damian had decided to head back to his place after school to get some studying done. Friday nights were usually reserved to studying at your place but Damian had offered to make you dinner at his place and study before watching a few movies.
you had never been over the Wayne manor before and frankly, you were kind of scared to run into his father. THE Bruce Wayne would most likely be in attendance and meeting the most powerful man in Gotham would probably scare anyone.
Damian unlocked the gate, quickly taking your backpack as you snuggled into his jacket. you were immediately welcomed by his butler, Alfred who offered to put both of you bags in the hallway so no one would step over them. you thanked him profusely, making Damian mutter to you that that’s why he was here. to serve you.
“so, what would you like to eat, beloved? I can make you anything you desire,” he boasted. you looked at the cookbook that was laid next to you and flipped through the first few pages, “this sounds nice,” you pointed to the plant based steak with veggies.
Damian quickly got to work, making the veggies first as he offered for you taste them every now and again. you would usually relay a kiss on his cheek as he finally got to cooking the steak. you couldn’t help but wonder how he got to be such a great cook, however; as he was finishing plating the food, you saw his father as well as you assumed were his brothers.
“uh Damian?” you mentioned, pointing to the three men who walked in. Damian sighed knowing that of course his brothers were going to come and annoy him, “who’s your friend?” Dick asked, putting his chin on his hand.
“this is ( your name ), my beloved,” he told them proudly. you were a bit taken back by the nickname he so easily used on you, “ahh, we’ve heard so much about you,” Tim continued, “she’s so pretty....she’s not like other girls,” Dick mocked.
your face felt a burning sensation as Bruce told his sons to be quiet, “nice to meet you ( your name ),” Bruce introduced, “welcome to the family,” you barely caught what he said as Damian excused the two of you to go up to his bedroom.
“your family is...nice,” you tried to say without sounding nervous. Damian rolled his eyes, “they’re bunch of idiots. that’s what they are,” he muttered, not bothering to look back at them.
once you got to his room, your mouth dropped a bit. you had never seen such a luxurious bedroom before. satin sheets, the coldest pillows, his bedroom could probably house a family if he really wanted too and the fact that this was his bedroom, you were taken back.
“wow, so this is how the rich and famous live?” you joked, sitting down on his bed. he shook his head, “all this means nothing to me...as long as you’re with me, I’d be the happiest person alive,” you stared at Damian, wondering if what he said was really true.
the two of you ate, mostly in silence as you tried to take what Damian had said. there had been rumors floating around Gotham Academy that Damian might’ve liked you. you tried to dispel the rumors, claiming that someone like you was no where near Damian’s type but now that you were hearing the words he was telling you, you were more keen on acting on his feelings.
after finishing dinner, he offered for you to join him on his bed to watch a movie. you had never actually gotten to hang out with Damian outside of school. since you were always so busy doing schoolwork and Damian always had things to take care of, as he put it, you two never relaxed together.
the aura in the room was cozy as he offered you a very expensive looking blanket to cover you up from the chilly air coming from his window. the movie the two of you picked was some random rom-com, it felt kind of stupid to be watching this kind of movie with Damian but at some point, you stopped paying attention to the movie and looked up to him.
“did you really mean what you said earlier?” you whispered to him. he gave you a confused look, “of course I did. would I ever lie to you?” he said back, kind of offended that you would even accuse him of lying.
you sat back up on the bed and turned to fix yourself as you finally gave him a kiss. Damian’s eyes widened, not expecting you to do that to him. regardless, he immediately pulled you on top of him and deepened the kiss by pushing you up against him.
Damian slid his hands in the back pocket of your skirt, finding it a bit confusing why the uniforms even had pockets on the skirts. he gripped your ass a bit, making you moan in surprise as Damian tried his hardest to contain himself but failing as he slipped his tongue into yours.
the two of you remained kissing for what felt like hours. you knew your lips were bound get bruised from the amount of tugging Damian was doing but by the time you pulled away, you could see the faintest of blushes appearing on Damian’s brown skin.
“wow, didn’t know you felt like that for me,” you muttered shyly. Damian chuckled, giving you a quick peck, “I have feelings you wouldn’t even begin to understand but one day....one day you will,” he replied.
you didn’t pay no mind to his reply as he had brought you down for another kiss. what you didn’t catch was the smirk playing on his face. he knew that once graduation came, there would already be a ring on that left ring finger and soon enough, you’d be baring his heirs.
the Wayne’s got what they wanted. it didn’t matter what they had to do to get it but what the Wayne’s wanted, they got.
#dc#dc comics#dc imagines#dc imagine#dc x reader#damian wayne#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#yandere damian wayne#yandere damian wayne x reader#yandere damian wayne imagine
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Oh Brother
Pairing: Peter Parker x Flash’s sister!reader
Requested by @forlaughingoutl0ud : Peter has a crush on you, despite how much your brother torments him
Masterlist
Flash was known to torment Peter.
You, being Flash’s sister, were known to defend Peter from your brothers antics.
“Morning, Penis Parker.” Flash came up to Peter at his locker. “What did you have for breakfast this morning? Food stamps?”
Before Peter could respond, you appeared behind Flash and grabbed his ear.
“Ow! Ow ow ow ow!” He whined as you pulled him by the ear, dragging him away from Peter. Peter watched you with a smile as you dragged your brother away.
“Let’s go.” You sighed. “If you’re late to homeroom, Mrs. Weiss is gonna send a note home. Again.”
It was an every day occurrence.
“Nice shoes, Parker.” Flash snorted. “Dumpster diving is so amazing these days, isn’t it?”
“Oh my God, you’re so funny.” You whipped around in your seat and narrowed your eyes at your brother. “Tell us another one. Please?”
He liked it to keep it consistent.
“Can anyone tell me what this number is?” Your teacher asked as she wrote the digits of Pi, 3.14, on the board.
“It’s Parker’s annual income.” Flash called out, earning a few laughs.
“Why is it that no one ever wants to hear you speak and yet you’re always talking?” You piped up in Peters defense. The class “ooed” at your comeback and Peter smiled shyly to himself.
“Whatever.” Flash scoffed. “You look fat today.”
“I’m sorry, Peter.” You directed your attention to Peter. “He’s a little cranky this morning.”
“It’s okay.” He smiled sheepishly. You smiled back and shot him a wink before turning around in your seat.
And that was when Peter realized he was whipped for you.
“Can anyone tell me what an impulse is?” The teacher asked the class one day. “Yes, Flash?”
“It’s something you really want to do and have no control over.” Flash answered. “Like when I give Peter a wedgie during gym class, I did it on an impulse. That means I can’t be held responsible.”
“No.” The teacher signed. “Can anyone else tell me what it is? Yes, Peter?”
“A change in momentum.” Peter said, just a little smugly. “Ft equals mv minus mu.”
“Thank you, Peter.” The teacher smiled. “That’s right.”
“I was technically also right.” Flash spoke up. “You didn’t specify what context it was in.”
“This is a physics class.” You laughed. “That’s your context.”
“Whatever. You don’t have to defend him just because he has a giant crush on you.” Flash shot back and the class reacted accordingly. It was common knowledge that Peter had feelings for you and Flash liked to use that to his advantage.
“What? No I don’t.” Peter stammered. “That would be stupid.”
“Why would it be stupid?” You looked at him curiously, sending a flush across his face.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Can we get back to the lesson, please?” Your teacher asked through a tight smile. “You three can sort this out in your free time.”
“Lucky for us, Peter never has anything but free time.” Flash taunted. “Being poor really opens up your schedule.”
“Leave him alone, Eugene.” You snapped. “This is why mom doesn’t love you.”
“She does too!” Flash took the bait. “You’re the adopted one.”
“I know.” You shrugged smugly. “Our parents chose me. You were just an unfortunate accident.”
“My existence is not unfortunate.” He stated.
“Aren’t you a Gemini?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Yes.” He said.
I’m a Gemini too I’m so sorry
“Then yeah, it is.” You scrunched your nose. The class stopped laughed at Peter and directed their attention to Flash. Peter looked at you in amazement and you winked at him.
“Thompsons.” The teacher interrupted. “I want you out of this class. Both of you. Now.”
You glared at your brother angrily as you grabbed your bag and headed towards the door.
“This is all your fault.” He growled at you as he opened the door.
“Oh, please.” Your argument was muffled as you made your way down the hallway.
Peter’s leg bounced in anticipation as he waited for the bell to ring, springing out of his seat as soon as it did. He immediately went to your locker, where you were busy putting your books away. Peter took a deep breath before he approached you, nervously making the first move.
“Hey.” He spoke up, making you turn your head in his direction. You shot him a smile that heated his entire face up.
“Hey, Peter.” You greeted. “Did I miss anything fun in physics?”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “Unless you like learning about momentum.”
“You know what, Peter? I can’t say I do.” You chuckled as you took a notebook out of your locker.
“Thanks for sticking up for me before. I’m sorry you got kicked out of class.”
“Don’t be sorry.” You shook your head and shut your locker. “It was totally worth it to put Flash in his place. Plus, I’m totally gonna dip his toothbrush in the toilet later. Walk with me.”
He began to walk with you out of school and in the direction of the residential buildings.
“Do siblings do that?” He wondered. “I’m an only child.”
“Are you? You’re so lucky.” You sighed. “Do you know how many times I’ve fallen into the toilet because he left the seat up?”
“Yeah, thats never happened to me.” He laughed gently. “I take it you guys don’t get along.”
“It’s weird with siblings.” You shrugged. “One minute we hate each other, the next minute we’re talking about the stupid games we used to play on long car rides. There’s no way to describe it.”
“I can’t imagine living with him. It’s hard enough to spend 8 hours a day with him. No offense.” He added quickly.
“None taken.” You smiled at him. “It’s not fun to live with him. The amount of times I’ve walked into the bathroom after him and choked on his body spray is unacceptable. I think he’s trying to kill me.”
“I would be very upset if he did that.” Peter said softly.
“Did what?”
“Killed you.” He looked at you and held your gaze for a moment. You smiled shyly at each other before looking straight ahead.
“What did you mean before when you said it would be stupid to have a crush on me?” You wondered out loud.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “Flash has just been bullying me since first grade. It would be stupid if the girl I decided to pine after was his sister.”
“I don’t think that would be stupid.” You shrugged as you snuck a glance at him. Peter blinked in surprise as he made eye contact with you. You both stopped, standing alone in an alleyway now.
“You…you don’t?” He looked at you shyly.
“Not at all.” You shook your head slowly as you took a step closer to him. Peter looked at his shoes for a moment as he gathered some courage, just enough to do what he’d been meaning to do for years now.
“Would you wanna go out sometime then?” He blurted. “Like, on a date?”
“I’d love to.” You smiled. “You still have my number from that group project right?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, still swimming from the fact your said yes.
“Then you should text me.”
“I will.” He promised.
“Good. I have to walk back to school before Flash notices I’m gone. I’ll be waiting for that text.” You winked at him and he let out a flustered laugh. You took this as an opportunity to lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, feeling his skin heat up beneath your lips. You pulled away and squeezed his hand before leaving him alone in the alley.
Yeah, he was definitely whipped.
“Penis Parker.” Flash slammed an open hand against the lockers next to Peter the following day. “Do you want to tell me why I kept seeing your name on my sister phone last night? Why were you texting her? Are you trying to colonize my families bloodline or something? No white men allowed.”
“What? And no.” Peters face heated up at the accusation. “We’re just friends.”
“You don’t have friends.” Flash snapped.
“Yes he does.” You appeared behind your brother and pushed him lightly. “That’ll be all, thank you.”
Flash narrowed his eyes at you before returning his attention to Peter.
“If you go near my sister again, I’m gonna turn your innie belly button into an outie.” Flash whispered.
“How?” Peter asked with genuine curiosity.
“You don’t want to find out.” He said through gritted teeth before storming away.
“He’s so annoying.” You rolled your eyes and leaned against Peters locker. “You look cute today.”
“Thanks.” Peter chuckled shyly as he looked down at his outfit. “I, um, I have a dilemma.”
“Is this about our date?” You worried.
“It’s just, your family is rich and my family is just me and my aunt. I know Flash makes a lot of jokes about me being poor, but they’re not really jokes.” He explained sheepishly. “I don’t think I can give you the kind of magical date you deserve.”
“Peter, I don’t need a fancy date. I just want to be with you.” You assured him as you stroked his cheek. “Why don’t you bring your favorite snack and I’ll bring my favorite drink and we can lay on top of your building and stargaze?”
“That sounds kinda perfect.” He admitted with a sly smile.
“Does tonight work?” You asked hopefully.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll text you my address.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in Physics.” You squeezed his hand before walking away.
You walked into your living room that night, all dressed up for your date. You stopped in front of a mirror to check your makeup, accidentally catches Flash’s eye.
“You look nice.” Flash said as his eyes flicked from you to his phone. “But you know, prostitution is still illegal in New York. It’s a damn shame, though. Sex work is still work.”
“You know, every once in a while, something intelligent comes out of your mouth. Gives me goosebumps every time.” You teased him as you applied your lipgloss.
“Wait, where are you going?” He put his phone down. “It’s a Wednesday night.”
“I’m going to a friends building to look at the stars.” You told him most of the truth.
“Are you walking there?”
“Yeah.” You shrugged. “It’s not that far.”
“Let me drive you. You have your mace on you, right?” He asked from the kitchen as he grabbed his keys.
“Always.”
“Okay.” He reappeared with his keys. “Let’s go.”
You kept light conversation as you drove to Peters apartment building, careful not to reveal who you were meeting. Flash parked out front and looked at the building in disdain.
“Your friend lives here?” He grimaced. “Is she poor?”
“Shut up. Those jokes aren’t nice.” You shoved him lightly. “Thanks for driving me.”
“It’s okay.” He nodded. “Text me when I should pick you up.”
“I will. Get home safe.” You told him as you got out of the car.
“Whatever. Don’t get pregnant.” He pointed at you. “I mean it.”
“Drive away.” You rolled your eyes as you shut the car door. You walked into the lobby and found the elevator, letting out a nervous breath as you got in. You were standing in from of Peters door in no time, anxiously waiting for him to open it.
Finally, he did.
“Are you ready to stargaze?” You asked as you held up a jug of apple juice.
“Are you ready to eat this entire box of goldfish?” Peter responded as he held up a carton of goldfish.
“You know it.” You laughed and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”
An hour later, you were lying on your backs in opposite directions with your heads pressed together, staring up at the stars.
“I don’t think there’s anything more beautiful than a night sky.” You sighed in content.
“I know something.” Peter looked at you, though you were upside down from his perspective.
“If you say me, I’m going kick you in the throat.” You laughed as you looked at him.
“Why?” He laughed as well.
“I don’t know.” You covered your face with your hands. “I’m not good with compliments. I don’t know how to respond.”
Peter turned his head so he was looking at you, eyes trailing over your side profile.
“I think you’re beautiful.” He told you, loving the way it made your draw drop. You rolled onto your side and looked at him before rolled on top. You rested your arms on either side of his face, admiring his face in the starlight, even if it was upside down. Your eyes flickered from his lips to his eyes and before he knew it, you were kissing him. He tilted his chin up so he could kiss you back, finding the position a little awkward as your nose bumped his chin. You both giggled into the kiss before continuing, only breaking away when you needed air. You flipped back on your back and let out a happy sigh, covering your face with your hand to hide your smile.
“That’s one way to respond.” Peter joked, breaking the silence. You laughed and rolled onto your side, him doing the same.
“I really like you.” You admitted, scrunching your nose at how weird it felt to say out loud.
“I really like you too.” Peter told you before leaning in for another kiss.
And that was the beginning of your relationship. You both knew Flash could not find out that you were dating, at least not yet. You had to cave and tell him you and Peter were friends around your second month of dating after he caught him in your room, but you didn’t tell him the full extent of your relationship. You disguised dates as casual hangouts, to which Flash heavily objected. He made his disliking for your “friendship” with Peter known.
“Ugh. You two.” Flash grumbled when he came into the kitchen to find you and Peter making cookies. You gave Peter a pointed look that told him to ignore your brother as Flash got food out of the pantry.
“Cracker.” He looked at Peter with a box of snacks in his hands.
“No thank you.” Peter said politely.
“I wasn’t offering. I was insulting.” Flash blew him a kiss before putting a cracker in his mouth. Peter looked at you for help and you gave him a sympathetic smile.
“How are you two friends?” He wondered. “You’re the worst people on the planet.”
“I beg to differ.” Peter began. “I think-“
“The beg.” Flash snapped before winking at Peter.
“We’re friends because we have similar interest.” You shrugged as you stirred the ingredients. “For example, we’re both very interested in you leaving the room.”
“Whatever. I was just making sure Parker doesn’t steal anything.” Flash shot daggers at Peter as he got a drink from the refrigerator. You and Peter stood in silence until you were sure Flash was gone, sighing in relief when he disappeared.
“Do you think he knows?” You whispered to Peter out of the corner of your mouth.
“He doesn’t suspect a thing.” Peter shook his head before pulling you into a kiss.
This was how it continued for month. You posed as friends and dated in secret, never letting your brother know the truth.
“Guess who?” You felt hands cover your eyes from behind. You immediately recognized Peters voice and turned around in his arms.
“What are you doing here?” You looked at him with wide eyes. “Flash could walk in at any minute.”
“I wanted to surprise you.” He smiled. “Happy three month anniversary, princess.”
“Happy anniversary, lover.” You smiled back at him before pulling him into a long kiss. For once, you didn’t care if your brother walked in. All you cared about was Peter.
“I have something for you.” Peter smirked once he pulled away.
“What? You didn’t have to get me anything.” You told him.
“Course I did.” He shrugged as he took a small box out of his pocket. “It’s okay if you didn’t get me anything.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t get you anything.” You winked at him before disappearing into your closet. You returned with a large carton of Goldfish with a bright red bow on it.
“Goldfish!” He lit up. “You remembered.”
“Of course I did, lover. How could I forget the taste of your goldfish breath the first time I kissed you?” You teased him as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Well you must’ve like it since you’ve come back for more everyday since.” He shot back before kissing you. “Open yours.”
You took the box from him and opened it up, finding a hand maid needed bracelet with a moon decal that looked like Peter had carved himself.
“The moon?” You looked up at him with a curious smile.
“It’s a waxing crescent. That’s what the moon looked like the night you kissed me. I have a matching one, see?” He held up his wrist to show you his bracelet. You stated at it for a moment before your eyes went back to his gift.
“Peter.” You mumbled without taking your eyes away from the bracelet.
“Do you like it?” He bit his lip as he waited for your reaction. You looked up at him with a grin before throwing your arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly.
“I love it.” You said into his ear. “Thank you so much.”
“I’m so glad you like it.” He smiled at you for a moment before getting serious. As he was looking at you, he realized he had never trusted someone more. Something came over him that made him want to give you every thing he had, including his deepest secret.
“I have to tell you something. No, I, I want to tell you something.” He corrected. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, actually. Um, this is so hard to say, wow.”
“It’s okay, Peter.” You put your hand in his face when you saw how flustered his was getting. “I love you too.”
Peter’s face drained of color at your confession as that was not at all what he was about to say.
“What?” He squeaked.
“I love you too.” You repeated, not understanding his confusion.
“That’s…that’s not what I was gonna say.” He blurted and your face fell.
“Oh.” You withdrew your arms from around his neck, feeling embarrassment and disappointment all at once. Peter realized his mistake and tried to pull you back.
“No, no.” Peter said quickly. “I was gonna tell you I’m Spider-Man.”
“What?” You nearly screamed.
“But I love you too! I love you so much.” He took your face in his hands and kissed you repeatedly.
“You’re Spider-Man?” You pushed him away long enough to ask.
“Yes. But more importantly, we’re in love!” He kissed you again. “Happy three months.”
“Happy three months.” You giggled between kisses.
You stood with Peter outside of school a few months later as you waited for Flash to come out.
“This is my least favorite part of the day.” Peter pouted as he rubbed your hand with his thumb.
“Why?” You tilted your head.
“I don’t get to see you anymore.” He looked at you with a shy smile. You smiled back at his cuteness and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“Marching band ends at 4 right? How about I come over after that? We can do anything you want.” You suggested as you played with the collar of his shirt.
“Anything I want?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. I’m feeling generous.” You shrugged. You were about to lean in to kiss him when you noticed your brother in the distance.
“Oh no.” You sighed and stepped back from Peter. “Don’t turn around.”
“Hey Penis Parker.” Flash jumped behind Peter and smacked his butt before looking at you. “Sup bitch.”
“Hi Flash.” You smiled tightly at him.
“What are you losers taking about?” He asked. “How you’re never gonna lose your virginities?”
You and Peter exchanged a knowing look and he turned his head to snort.
“We’re talking about how grabbing peoples butts without their permission is sexual harassment.” You spoke up to cover Peters laugh.
“Oh, really? That’s cool.” He smacked Peters butt again. “Are you ready to go? My car is on and she’s ready to purr.”
“God, I hate you.” You sighed. “I’ll see you later, Peter.”
“See you later. Bye.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips, entirely forgetting that Flash was there. Your eyes widened as Peter was about to walk away, but Flash held his hand up to stop him.
“Hold up.” He looked at Peter. “What was that?”
Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked at you, only realizing his mistake when he noticed your messed up lipstick. He let out a small gasp before looking at Flash, who was shaking with anger.
“Um…physical affection?” Peter said weakly. You slammed your palm against your forehead and let out a sigh.
“Thanks for the run down, Penis Parker.” Flash snapped. “You’re dating my sister?”
“Yeah, Flash.” You put a hand on Peters shoulder. “Peter and I are dating.”
“Excuse me a minute.” He held up and finger before bending down as if he was going to puke. “BLEH.”
You rolled your eyes as your brother continued to make puking sounds.
“I cannot stand this man.” You grumbled. Flash stopped for a moment and stood up, looking eerily composed.
“Y/n, could you give Peter and I a minute to ourselves, please?” He said through a tight smile.
“Um, are you gonna kill him?” You scratched your ear as you looked between your fearfully boyfriend and your suspiciously calm brother.
“I haven’t decided yet.” Flash said, never breaking his smile.
“Don’t go.” Peter looked at you in fear.
“You’ll be okay.” You decided. “I’ll be right over there.”
Flash waited until you walked away until he started interrogating Peter.
“How long had this been going on?” Flash started out.
“Seven months.” Peter told him.
“Is it serious?”
“I love her.” Peter smiled shyly.
“Gross.” Flash gagged. “Does she love you back?”
“Yes.” Peter nodded. “She tells me everyday.”
“So every time I drove into the slums of New York to drop her off at the cardboard box you call an apartment building, I was dropping her off at your place? I was hand delivering my sister to you?” Flash realized.
“Yes.” Peter repeated. “Are you mad?”
“You know what”,Flash let out a breath, “I’m okay.”
“You are?” Peters jaw dropped a little. He had been expecting a beating, or at least a wedgie.
“Yeah.” Flash put his hand on Peters shoulder and rubbed it. “She couldn’t be in better hands, Spiderman.”
He had whispered the last part, making all the blood drain from Peters face.
“How did you-“
“I eavesdrop on people constantly.” Flash cut him off. “I can’t stop. My therapist says it’s because I didn’t get enough attention as a kid, but what does that bitch know? I overheard her husband on the phone telling her that their kid bit somebody again. Again! I never did that. The moon bracelet was a nice touch, by the way. She really likes it.”
“You just told me way too much about you.” Peter blinked a few times as he processed what he just heard.
“Now we’re even.” Flash smirked and shot him a wink.
“Are you gonna tell anyone?” He asked nervously.
“Course not. I would do anything for Spider-Man.” Flash stated firmly. “That secret is safe with me. I am, however, gonna tell everyone that you and her are dating.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s super embarrassing for her. Later, Parker.” He held out his hands for Peter to shake, pulling him in when their hands touched.
“Swing me around the city in your arms and I won’t kill you for dating my sister.” He whispered in Peters ear. Peter looked at him in fear as he walked away. You immediately ran up to Peter once your brother was gone and put a hand on his arm.
“What happened?” You asked. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Peter told you. “I think I have a date with your brother.”
“You - huh?” You asked for clarification but Peter just shook his head.
“I don’t know.” He sighed in defeat. “I’ll text you after band practice.”
“Yeah I’ll-“ You were cut off by Flash honking his horn and calling your name.
“I’ll text you later.” You grumbled and shot a look at Flash.
“Okay.” Peter kissed you before you began to walk away. “I love you.”
“I love you.” You called over your shoulder as you made your way to Flash’s car. Upon hearing this, Flash just had to chime in.
“I love you too Penis Parker!”
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