#i’ve never failed a class i’ve never had to retake a single class

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

found something out that is going to fucking ruin my day (course required for graduation and only offered once a year conflicts with course required for graduation and only offered once a year)

[playerninth]

P.S I LIKE YOU (TOO) ⪧ DAY 13 OF PIWONTOBER

non idol!jiung x fem!reader (smut mdni)

彡 – everything transpired after a single drunken mistake—you and your best friend getting inspired after watching: ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ one friday night after midterm week had dragged on. except, you weren’t lara jean covey. and no one’s exactly a peter kavinsky in your life. all you’ve got is a last chance to retake your econ class for the second time, and an undeniably attractive guy as a project partner. a thought you wouldn’t express out loud. but what if he accidentally receives your drunk written love letter detailing just how much you thought of it so?

author's note: the way this thing had a billion revisions before reaching this stage... anyway, although i'm incredibly late TT i'm still very excited to share with you guys yet another jiung fic!! also, i can't forget to mention how amazing @kisseobie and @sxfterhearts are for hosting piwontober & bringing the p1ece community together♡ it's my first time joining these sort of events, and i had a lot of fun writing! + apologies for any typos! :(

word count: 7.9k

warnings: smut, blackmail, make up sex, face-sitting, seven minutes in heaven

comments are welcome♡ i'd love to hear your thoughts!

despite being drunk out of your mind to the point you've written that piece of tangible regret, you remember the same night all too well—the clock ticks past after hours as the mingling whiff of alcohol and a box of left over pizza hangs in the air. you were surprised you've managed to drag yourself all the way to the weekend, remnants of grueling exams left unspoken between you and your best friend whom you share a dorm room with. midterms weren't really worth mentioning when you could drown in gossip and delude about your hypothetical boyfriends.

from random guys in class, to boybands, and above all: celebrities in cheesy romcoms you've rewatched an abnormal amount. that certain night's choice was a classic between you and your best friend: 'to all the boys i've loved before.'

except, you weren't lara jean covey. and no one's exactly a peter kavinsky in your life. yet, hell breaks loose when you receive a text from choi jiung one fated morning that had you unleash a piercing shriek, and thankfully, had locked yourself in a stall at an empty bathroom in the middle of your university campus.

not like that makes things any better than they already are.

enclosed within the four cramped walls of the bathroom stall was a feeling you'd never forget—the continuous drip of the leaking faucet and silence amplified the thudding beat of your heart. the screen of your phone glowing faintly as you stare at the message you've left on read for the past five minutes: a photo jiung had sent of the letter you've written that certain night after getting wrongfully inspired from lara jean's dilemma. unfortunately detailing an exaggerated confession on your unfiltered thoughts of jiung being totally attractive. hot, even. a running commentary on everything you wouldn’t express out loud.

this fiasco would probably cost you a couple of months avoiding a bottle of soju, because how are you going to dodge yourself out of this one? especially when his follow up message adds further salt to the wound—the envelope clearly stating your full name and address in bold, inked letters.

the seconds stretch out as the cramped stall started feeling a bit stuffier, your shaky fingers hovering over the keyboard in contemplation. you’d normally block him and just fail the damn class if it were like any other instance, except… it was your last chance to retake this subject. you couldn’t afford another fuck up.

[9:07] jiung: this letter’s handwriting strangely matches the one on your notes

[9:09] jiung: before you try to deny anything

all you ever wanted at that moment was to strangle yourself... because a love letter so vulnerable like that has no place being in a pile of notes, and to be given to your partner for a class project. when you thought handing him the material would be the end of it (after being utterly sick of his self-centered work ethic), but the universe had plans otherwise.

[9:13] y/n: it wasn’t something you’re supposed to see

[9:14] jiung: but i did

[9:16] y/n: i was drunk, okay? can we please forget about it?

[9:18] jiung: and people say drunk words are sober thoughts

[9:20] y/n: do i look like i care about stupid bullshit like that rn

[9:22] jiung: oh

[9:22] jiung: so you don’t care if people other than me see this letter?

[9:23] y/n: what

[9:24] y/n: you can’t just use that against me??

[9:26] jiung: let’s see how well this thing means so much to you then

[9:27] y/n: ???

and when you thought you’d never see the pulsating, message bubble as he types as such a dreadful thing, your nerves suspended in the most excruciating minutes. 9:28, 9:29… 9:30...

[9:31] jiung: main library, 2pm, this friday. oct 13

that was, a distant week ago. you figured you should probably show up this time, all in the name of having the existence of the letter stay between the two of you. even if it meant having to deal with the growing habit of waking up in the middle of the night from the anxiety crawling upon your thoughts. until once and for all, the day came.

your feet felt rather heavier that day, dragging your mopey figure through the winding halls of the university. the halloween spirit on campus feeling far too suffocating, the orange and black streamers hanging from the ceilings a mere blur. other people were buzzing about the upcoming university halloween party at the end of the month, yet all you ever wished was that you were some random skull decor perched at a corner, undisturbed. and that you weren't nearing the doors to the main library, a sight that you loathed with your whole being.

and there he was, choi jiung. the guy wreaking havoc in your life. okay, well—maybe not that actively, but he's been a constant force you're trying to push toward the back of your mind ever since you made such a stupid mistake, to the point you don’t even know how you could redeem yourself.

“hey,”

“hey.” you're surprised you even managed to croak out a reply, finding yourself unable to maintain eye contact with him for more than two seconds–pathetically.

you were about to claim the seat in front of him before he raises a familiar envelope nestled within his fingers, and you wasted absolutely no time at the chance. snatching the thing with vigor just to rip it to smithereens, earning a few glares from other people in the library. you couldn't care less.

jiung lets out a laugh underneath his breath, adorably irritating so, as he watches fragments of the letter fall before him like confetti. you finally settled on a seat across him, and the further time dragged on, the more it seemed to prove your written letter right.

he was undeniably magnetic, from the way his clothes drape over his shoulders, his bangs framing his face with its stark black—the waft of his perfume despite the distance. your gaze can't help itself from shifting over to his fingers with every turn of a page, almost as if he was the perfect distraction.

and that tie sitting on his collar, really? what was his major again? you couldn't be bothered to muse over whether or not academia fashion was a staple for whatever program he was taking, especially when you couldn't blame him. 'cause he truly held a sort of charm that makes you wanna ravish him right then and there. that you had to remind yourself: time and place, his glasses beginning to lean crooked subtly to the side before his finger pushed it further up his nose bridge. ultimately turning back to you—who already had eyes on him, locked.

jiung speaks, faintly registered in your currently preoccupied head. honestly, the only qualm you carry against him is that he wants to get things done, his way. which is partly the reason why this partner project has gotten awry, his ego clashing a horrible amount with your stubbornness. guess not everyone can have it after all.

of course you had to have it figured out eventually. even if it had to cost you biting down your tongue from spewing possible scathing remarks with his every word. due to the fact that any moment you tried to challenge his ideas, he'd quote all the lines he could possibly remember from your embarrassing letter. and it was only the librarian's stare pinning you down from grabbing jiung by the hair out of annoyance, because the both of you were causing quite a bit of disturbance.

“you know, i can't deny that little love letter of yours was kinda cute.” he leans forward, loving the way your face morphs into irritation.

“cute? you think it's cute that i accidentally confessed about—” you caught yourself, clearing your throat before rolling your eyes at him. “i mean, whatever. just concentrate.”

“hey, hey. finish it. about what? your quote on quote, suppressed feelings for me?” god, you so badly wanted to slap that smirk out of his face.

you could only manage to groan, running a hand through your hair. “no! i mean my deep annoyance at your inability to take me seriously, to take this project seriously!”

“excuse me, could you keep it down? this is a library.” you immediately turn towards the librarian, clutching a hand over your mouth at the realization that you might've… raised your voice a little too loud.

“sorry,” you muttered, eyes fixated on your notes sprawled over the table. “we were just—”

“working very loudly?” the librarian cut you off, and the worst part is–jiung still had the audacity to look at you with much mischief in his eyes. and that stupid smirk. “if you can’t keep quiet, i'm kindly asking you to leave.”

and that was… the last of what you've heard once you began gathering your things out of embarrassment, jiung trailing behind you like a lost puppy as you pretend you don't even know who he is, walking towards the nearest exit.

maybe choi jiung really is a constant force in your life. despite the day at the library being the last time you’d spend with him until presentations came tomorrow, it felt as if he never really left your mind. constantly drifting like a cloud over your head, lingering. and you so desperately wanted to bury him as a distant memory. busying yourself with other major projects, going out with friends, and the main event that the everyone’s been buzzing about for weeks: the awaited university halloween party.

it worked to distract you for the most part, lost within the crowd sprawled over the expanse of the green field, now only a crackle of grass beneath your heels. lights flickered along with the thump of the music’s bass. you watched the collective silhouette of people dressed in costumes, either tipsy out of their mind or buzz undying. you’d probably be seen with a red cup full of alcohol in hand, if you hadn’t sworn to yourself that you wouldn’t be touching a bottle of soju until a few months time. remnants of your little disaster from not too long ago trying to haunt you.

and so you turned to the cold air nipping at your bare skin, which you have to thank your skimpy little black dress for. the racy outfit you’d put together in an excuse to dress up as a witch, seductively at that. you partly regret bringing your witch hat with you despite contemplating about it a while ago, having to deal with the thing repeatedly slipping over your eyes. making a simple task of opening your phone to a flood of text messages, a challenge. after a couple of foiled attempts, you managed to get the gist—and that your friends are waiting for you at some frat house to join an after party.

the main event endlessly unfolds despite midnight fastly approaching. dragging your feet towards the front part of the crowd where it pulsed with much more energy, hopefully making your way towards the right direction of the area near the frat house. the music echoed like it wanted you to stay for a while, lose yourself to the beat as you tried to keep your witch hat tilted upright. not until another drag of the hat back up had your eyes flickering towards the dj manning the booth. keeping the night alive as lights hung overhead, casting a glow behind his figure and perfectly accentuating his side profile. yet the more your gaze traced the curve of his nose, the tousle of his hair as he let himself move to the rhythm.

for a split second the lights confirmed your suspicion, except you didn’t want to say anything. say his name, his everything, crawling back to your mind. you’d even forgotten why you were trying to erase him from your thoughts. maybe, just maybe… it wouldn’t be too bad to keep your eyes rested on him this time around. and it wasn’t as if you could turn away if you tried regardless.

there was something about catching sight of this side of him you never knew he had. at that moment, it felt like it was only the both of you existing in a bubble of your own. there was quite a distance between his position at the makeshift stage and yours below; nevertheless, the sparkle within his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. and in that moment nothing else mattered, the difficulty of trying to tear your stare away from him weighing over you.

no, no, no. not again. not this time.

the after party at the frat house, right.

reality comes crashing in once more, blinking rapidly as you tried to bump your way through the crowd. glancing everywhere you could to seek refuge, any way out, somewhere. mind racing with a mantra, “forget him forget him forget about him,” suppressing everything you’ve ever thought of the moment you laid eyes on him. chalking it up to the fact that it was probably your unrequited feelings for him hitting you like a brick. but… it wasn’t like you were ever serious about him, weren’t you?

your feet felt heavy trying to keep him out of reach, away from the taunt of his presence. the further you tried to push through what seems to be the edge of the field had you jostled within the crowd, and it didn’t help the flashing lights began disorienting your vision. you hastily fish your phone out, scrolling for past messages to double check the location of the frat house. except you realized, you weren’t really sure where to go from here.

your chest tightens. trying to take in sharper breaths as the mass of people were closing in around you, trying to push more, yet was met with more resistance. the smell of alcohol and loud noise started swallowing you, panic rushing through your veins. this is bad. this is really really bad.

and all of a sudden you heard a faint call, your ears picking it up with its subtlety. it was a brief echo through the music, until you heard it once more.

��y/n! over here!”

you swiftly whip your head around to scan the blur of faces, pulse quickening—at last, your gaze landing on someone familiar.

“i’ve been looking for you for ages.” he pants, trying to catch his breath from approaching you through the tight crowd. yoon keeho, although clad in a rather comical vampire costume, brought you a sense of relief.

“you okay? you look…”

“yeah, i’m just…. i got a bit lost.” you admit, lacing your fingers through your hair after finally taking off your witch hat.

keeho lets out a laugh beneath his breath, earning a piercing glare from you before extending a hand out to point. “you’re better off at the after party with me, everyone else is here so… it isn’t too crowded there yet.”

you hum, clutching your purse before following as keeho steps towards the way out. “come on,”

and at that, the both of you slip away from the field with its chaos, music fading far beyond the distance.

within the frat house lingered the scent of alcohol from a previous round of beer pong. it was dimly lit, but you’ll know empty red cups are strewn around from its hollow crunch beneath accidental steps. the door trickled bit by bit with newcomers, the party outside eventually simmering down to a hum, occasionally cut with bursts of laughter and constant conversation. thank god keeho had found you.

yet that was a while ago. you couldn’t decipher the exact time but it seemed way past midnight. it was a stark contrast to the huddle of people buzzing in excitement, your figure amongst them in a circle on the floor. it was probably, what… like the third or fourth round of seven minutes in heaven? the poor closet door slams open to another couple exiting, far too all over each other than you’d like to witness.

it was like that for the past thirty minutes, having to sit through rounds of people shutting themselves within the closet as you were forced to hear thumps against the wall hear and there—and you’d rather not find out what had gone on. the soju bottle in the middle of your formed circle felt like a threat as it waits to be spun, yet you couldn’t manage to grasp out of the situation from keeho’s grip on your wrist.

“you’re not leaving until the bottle points to you.” his fingers tighten his hold, his other hand bringing a drink up to his lips.

"keeho, i don’t know these people!” you whisper-shouted, narrowing your brows at him.

and it wasn’t helping that it was proving especially difficult to take him seriously with the vampire get up he had on. "that’s the thrill about it? and when i thought you’ll live up to your words when you told me you’ll get out of your comfort zone right after high school.”

it was probably your over-ambitioned self talking back then. “we’re only juniors. we have plenty of time.”

"plenty of time? you only have a year, y/n”

you didn’t bother responding, yet he’s still trying his best to provoke a reaction out of you. “no one really stands out to me right now among these strangers if i’m going to be honest. but… maybe you’ll find someone that’s your type—”

"keeho, how many times do i have to tell you that i really don’t give a fuck about anyone else here right now.”

"yeah, that! fuck.” he drags the end of his sentence in such an overly teasing tone, flashing him a look like he just said something so outrageous, because indeed it was...

"mess around a little bit, you know. get frisky in that closet or something.”

"seven minutes isn’t enough for that.”

“yeah, you would know.”

you were on the verge of landing a smack over his shoulder when a chorus of gasps erupted, drawing your attention.

and just your luck, the bottle points to you.

all you could muster was a defeated sigh, waiting for the soju bottle to spin once more to select the stranger you’d be stuck with in that closet for an excruciating seven minutes. except it never came, and only a hand reaches out to snap you out of your thoughts.

“shall we?” oh. it was that same voice you wished you weren’t at all familiar with, looking above the shadow looming over you. akin to a moth towards a flame. and it’s just a matter of figuring out who’s who between the two of you.

choi jiung, wearing a smirk that tugged on his lips that you almost wanted to slap off him, like always. you did—well, slap his hand away from your face, rolling your eyes before rising and rushing towards the closet door as he follows.

you almost missed keeho’s words, “is that…” a comment faint in volume when he recalls the day you told him all about your ‘jiung fiasco’ during a phone call.

you drowned in silence inside the closet, not even bothering to turn the light on. figures slumped against the wooden walls across each other. you hugged your knees to your chest, hyper aware of how cramped the space was and your paralyzing fear of having your legs accidentally brush against his.

all you could hear was the frantic hammer of your heartbeat within your chest, sighing in relief that he couldn’t see the flush creeping over your expression. him, well… the most you could make out from the dimness was the stupid mask you hadn’t realized he put back on.

“take that damn ghostface mask off before i punch it out of your face.”

oh, and you regret saying that, 'cause he truly took the mask off, “as you wish.”

he looked so unbelievably hot. annoyingly disproportionate to his simple costume of black fabric draped over his figure, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders just right. along with his hair falling over his eyes and—no. not another monologue of being down bad. enough.

silence hung in the air once more, not like it ever left, but the noise from outside seemed to have drained away and all it was in the moment were you and jiung, paused.

"so, what’s up with… the situation lately?” he speaks up, breaking the silence.

"you know…” you find yourself trailing off, voice small.

"know what?"

“the letter,” you finished his sentence, fragility within your words. “i never meant for you to see it.”

"you’re mad because i found out about it? y/n it’s just a letter—”

"to you, jiung. for me it was my vulnerable thoughts out in the open. t-too personal.”

your voice began to break, the air feeling heavier by the minute. the absence of sound failed to muffle the thud within your pulse. further amplified when he rests his hand over yours perched atop your knee, his touch noticeably warm. you didn’t pull away.

"right, i’m sorry. i understand, i shouldn’t have said that.”

“it’s okay. it was a mistake of mine and—i kinda… made it feel weird between us because of that.” jiung’s lips part in search of words, though you couldn’t see. his fingers tried fiddling with yours, an attempt to ease your tentative tone.

"weird how?”

"you know, ‘cause…”

"hm?”

"shut up,” fuck. you weren’t supposed to let that slip out of your lips, far too affected from how effortlessly attractive he sounded from a single, minor hum. and he didn’t even mean for it to come across like that. “sorry i, just. i can’t face you right now.”

"take your time, y/n”

yet how can you think straight when he says your name like that? the softness his voice held, the gentle tone making your heart skip a beat without fail.

"i was just caught off guard when you… did the whole blackmail thing. i’d—i thought you would just laugh it off or whatever.” you scoff lightly.

"i wouldn’t ever mock you like that. i mean, i kinda did… joke around with you at the library but! i meant it, lightheartedly.”

"mhm.” his fingers remain fidgeting with yours, your eyes drifting downwards. “i just, wanted some space. it was humiliating for me, okay?”

and then it hit jiung with a click. he might’ve went too far with the whole blackmail thing. “i get that. i never meant for you to feel that way, i just… wanted a chance to talk to you further. and spend maybe... a bit more time together.” he clarified, eventually lacing his fingers with yours, closely.

"but deep down i kinda knew you wouldn’t like, rat me out to whoever. it’s part of why i came to like you—sorry i… i know you don’t like me back and i keep talking about my feelings for you and—”

"i never said i didn’t like you back.”

"huh?”

"tell me, when did i ever tell you i don’t like you?”

the question looped within your mind. except all that there ever was is a cloud of uncertainty, his intentions slipping through your grasp like sand. what does he even mean?

"jiung, you’re confusing me.”

then all of a sudden you watch as he bursts into laughter, and you hastily grab his ghostface mask from a corner to playfully smack it against his head.

"you’re so unbelievably dense.”

you click your tongue, shoulders slumping in defeat. "it’s always been a problem of mine, i just don’t know how to handle my feelings.”

the next few words came out almost in a whisper, despite feeling your most vulnerable. “it’s probably why i… don’t have much experience with… this kinda stuff, unlike my friends.”

his fingers ceased playing with yours, now taking both of your hands in his, enveloped around yours like it were meant to be like that. warm.

“you don’t have to deal with this alone, y/n”

the moment wound down once more at the silence that fell.

"okay, look. i’ll just say it once and for all.” his tone is firm, almost commanding you to lift your gaze up at him. “i really, really like you. and i want to be with you. can we start over? please?”

you didn’t know what to respond at that instance. held frozen in place, but the rush of emotion through your nerves acted otherwise. all at once, it came washing over you like a wave.

"jiung?” you call out to him, as there goes another one of his hums. “you mean it?”

"of course i do.” he’s kneeling before you now, so damn close, it felt like your heart’s going to jump out of your chest. your pulse picks up, racing, as his other hand remains interlocked with yours and the other sneaks to caress your cheek.

jiung’s inching closer with every passing second, the air thick with anticipation as if it wasn’t already so stuffy from the cramped space. your eyes flutter shut while the only thing you could sense is the warmth of his breath against your lips. tilting your head subtly to the side, was that how they did it in the romcoms? failing to realize that you’re beginning to clutch his hand in yours harder that—“seven minutes is up!”

the closet door swings open without warning, your hands flying to push jiung away as his back meets the wall with a slight thud, watching the light stream into the cramped space. all over too soon.

yet it was just the catalyst to your eager desire; unable to take your hands off each other the moment you stepped foot outside of the closet. more like it was jiung getting rather handsy, his palm warm over the small of your back. even unabashedly pulling you closer to his side once you sink back down with the rest of the huddled group playing seven minutes. you’ve no reason to stay here anymore.

it came fleeting rather quickly, one moment he had you by the hand out of the door to that damned frat house, traversing through the empty, wasted field and towards the direction of the university dormitories. from the slightest ounce of privacy that touched your fingertips, you started yearning for more. as you reached the floor to your room, jiung wastes no time trapping you against the corridor wall, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“can i?” he mumbles against your skin, rather sensitive. and you would think he’s incapable of holding back a little kiss during the heat of the moment. except he still asks, lips beginning to ghost over you, bare.

"you don’t look like you could wait for—hngh, anything else.” you struggle underneath his grip, his hands fastening your wrists against the wall as he pushes against you impossibly closer. “i wanna hear you say yes.”

he follows, trailing further up that his nose subtly bumps on your cheek. you feel like you’re turning insane, the more time dragged on and he keeps holding back.

“please jiung, want you all over me…” you whine, a bit more when he finally presses a soft kiss over your flushed cheeks. he looked irresistible, pulling away to stare down at you with his eyes; glossed with hunger.

“even better.” and this time he inches closer once more, his lips hovering over yours tentatively, waiting for you to bridge the gap. and so you did, kissing him back with as much fervor. completely forgetting about the fact that this was the first time you’ve properly made out with someone, and you weren’t even quite sure if you’re doing it right.

it were as if jiung had a sort of sixth-sense, holding you gently by your jaw as your lips weave into a searing kiss, wet by the second as his tongue peeks out. sliding over your bottom lip. “i got you, relax.” he utters, the rumble of his voice traveling straight to your core.

jiung pulls away for a brief moment of oxygen, crashing his lips back to yours. sliding his tongue into your mouth this time ‘round, and you melt against him—weak in the knees as he rolls his wet muscle sinfully against yours.

“can’t get enough of you already,” it was a mystery how he manages to slip a few words here and there, from your pathetic state struggling to keep up with his desperate pace. proving truth to his words when the swirl of his tongue was followed by suckling on your own, that all you could do was mewl, you poor little thing.

it was dangerously risqué, anyone could simply walk into the sight of your sorry state, falling apart fully if it weren’t for jiung holding you up. keeping you upright despite the evident wobble in your knees as he continued to ravage you wantonly, done with his assault on your tongue that he’s moved to subtly bite on your bottom lip, bruised.

"mhmm.” you shudder, swallowing in a moan when he turns to the shell of your ear instead, tracing it sensitive, his spit cold once the air hit. and so he sucks, like he obsessively does, feeling every gentle flick of his tongue rush straight to your core.

you’re already so embarrassingly wet despite still being fully clothed, and his hands had done nothing but to remain over your cheek all this time. his nails raked against the thin fabric of your skimpy dress, mind turned to mush as the only thought you could render was that he needed to touch you right now. futher, more… more than you could ever fathom to beg for him out in the open.

“jiung…” you whimper, right against his ear. feeling his pants get uncomfortably tight that he just has to redirect his energy into smothering you, littering wet, hot, open-mouthed kisses on the expanse of your sensitive neck.

“yes baby?” it took him quite a while to respond, the petname sending a flutter in your chest. he tries to hold himself back before he began to litter nibbles over your skin.

his fingertips are a prickle over your body, finding yourself struggling to respond. mind blank, and you couldn’t even remember why you called out to him in the first place.

“mhmm,”

"you’re already so, horny. aren’t you?”

he’s met yet another smack to the shoulder, probably the nth time from yours this evening.

"don’t say it like that!” you tried leaning impossibly closer, your tone much less than a whisper.

nonetheless, jiung’s brain was equally as foggy, the impact of your hit disregarded. from his point of view, it was unbeknownst that your mind was swirling with how to break the looming silence. the only thing that had his attention in a headlock was the intoxicating sight of you, looking up at him, eyes glossed over in feral desire

your lips adorably bruised, proud of his insatiable work from earlier. your cheeks flushed and brows frustratingly knitted together. it was as if you’re wordlessly begging for him to kneel before you. in fact he would, right at the first syllable of anything you’d utter. and right past that was a sight behold, the swell of your breast, cleavage peeking underneath your outfit.

fuck, he needs you, mind driven towards delirium from his longing to touch. within the warmth from the palm of his hand, undoubtedly even better if he had his mouth on them, loving it wet. he needed you. so. so. badly.

"did you drink?” your voice was delicate, snapping him out of his trance.

“no.” and he was saying the truth. no sip of alcohol carried the same effect of his drunken want over your everything.

this time you took initiative, interlocking fingers with his as you dragged him towards your dorm room. every step you took in the hall felt electric, finding yourself fumbling with the key through the door as jiung’s hand teasingly dips past your waist.

at last pulling him inside, closing the door with a slam as you resume ravishing each other’s lips. you’re too dizzy at this point, his forehead pressing against yours as tries to keep you close. and with every step backwards goes a wet peck, bodies trailing toward your bed until your legs hit the edge.

and so he pushes you, gently, attempting to hold yourself up with your elbows toward the headboard. not until jiung grabs you by your thighs, nails digging over the plush—from that he abruptly yanks you back toward him and earns a surprised mewl.

“don’t go anywhere.”

“jiung, ‘m not.” yet he doesn’t answer anymore, resting his arms on either side of your head. you’ll never catch him without his lips on you, searching, sucking less than harshly that he might as well leave a mark. every nibble and flick of his tongue had you writhing beneath, and you couldn’t help but spread your legs open. hoping he’d take the hint.

he’s turning you breathless, with every press of his lips over your skin igniting such flame in your tummy.

“touch me jiung, please,” you finally cry out, driven crazy when your cunt’s clenching around nothing, wet yet untouched.

“where baby?” jiung rises from busying himself with your neck, only realizing just how much effect he had on you now that he’s gotten a proper view.

you lay there, helpless beneath his figure with your hair disheveled. lips parted from panting, chest heaving up and down.

“here,” you replied, out of breath. turning your head to the side abashed, that you couldn’t even grasp the fact that you’d reach this point. jiung meets your hands, letting you guide his hold toward your clothed breasts.

he couldn’t help a subtle smile tug on his lips, “you’re so damn cute,” jiung teases, swiftly pressing a kiss on your exposed cheek. “i’ll make you feel good, alright?”

please, you’d probably whine out, if you weren’t wallowing so much in the shame of drawing his touch right over your breasts. even so, he’s eager to pry you apart, relishing in the fact that despite your inexperience, you still push through, for him—communicating what you truly wanted.

and it left him with the inclination to fulfill it.

jiung groped your sensitive mounds through the fabric, turning your breathing ragged by the minute. god, you’re already so sensitive, and with every fleeting touch of his hands against your breasts, went to travel straight down to your cunt. sopping wet as you pushed your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the sticky feeling of your panties. proving useless. he then slips his fingers beneath the edge of your dress, thankfully strapless. right atop your chest, pulling it down until he’s met with the sight of your lacey little bra. “pretty,”

and yet he doesn’t show a single trace of rush carried in his actions, feeling you up to build the thrill, groping. “jiung...” you beg, reaching out to his wrist.

“patience,” he sounded curt, but the way he gently fondles your clothed breasts said otherwise.

right when he’s dragged as much of your dress down as he can, jiung catches you off guard—promptly sliding his hands beneath your bra that had your breath hitching. the warmth of his palms flush against your nipples, already perky, yearning for his touch.

jiung just has you pliant beneath him as the vulgar scene unfolds, tenderly groping, fondling your tits along with occasional pinches to your sensitive buds and making you mewl without fail. turns him on so so much, seeing you exposed so adorably that you had let go of all sense left within your body.

it didn’t take too long for him to come to a point, he couldn’t help himself anymore. the erotic sight of your desperate state rutting your clothed cunny up against his torso, helplessly. jiung finally hikes your bra up, your breasts spilling out of a fabric in such a way he can’t resist salivating over your vulnerable image.

and so he wastes no time. if you weren’t so lost within such a sensual trance that had your eyes fixated on the ceiling, you might’ve gotten the chance to catch jiung’s expression, his eyes completely glazed over. hungrily, he encloses his lips around your nipple, the warm wetness of his tongue swirling and flicking against the bud with abandon.

you swore your cunt begins to clench around nothing as he continued his work on you, skin erupting in goosebumps as he relentlessly sucks on the bud; lewd sounds filling the expanse of your dorm room. he doesn’t let your other breast get neglected, fondling its plush with the sporadic flick of his thumb over the bud over and over. ultimately urging you to hump against him suffocated in lust that’s taken over your whole being.

“ahh… jiung—” all you could manage to sputter out were pathetic whimpers, head thrown back as you sink into the mattress. his actions were a medley of flicking his hot tongue on to the other bud, switching, towards rapid kitten licks with his lips fully enclosed around it. eventually withdrawing with a short pop from the messy slick of his drool. once more diving back in to continue his feral abuse on your sensitive nipple. “feeling good?”

and you couldn’t even manage to choke out a reply even if you wanted to, drowning in suffocating desire. jiung pulls away, the hunger in him still begging to get satiated, his cock hard in his pants. a string of spit between your bud and his lip, glistening as it snapped.

anticipation overtakes you once more as he gently pushes your breasts together, flushed before craning back in to tongue over your swollen nipples, moving his head side to side in a frenzy. and you’re just so far gone, the warmth of his tongue licking over your buds with each turn. your already helpless state reduced to a mess, only able to splutter out hoarse moans. and he hasn’t even touched your needy cunt yet.

you had to pry him away from you, it was enough—more than enough before jiung manages to drive you towards an orgasm from merely stimulating your tits, having enough of embarrassing yourself in front of him. you’re not about to cum this early on, clothes barely taken off. you entwine your fingers through his hair, and just when he lets you breathe does he really see what he’s made of you.

sure, he looked disheveled as well, spit by the side of his lip. except you’re far worse, legs trembling from the growing wetness from your center, eyes lidded in a struggle to keep them open. blissed out of your mind and still, all you’ve ever wanted to see was jiung ravaging you like an animal.

“wanna take this all off, jiung…” he’s watchful, hooked on your voice that’s starting to turn a pitch higher than before.

“want more,”

lust bubbles within his chest, listening as you wish despite your struggle finishing sentences out of daze. “want to feel good with you,” your fingers try to reach beyond jiung’s chest, not making it far down but hoping he’d take the hint. swearing that the further you went without relief from your uncomfortable, sticky panties, the more you’ll spiral insane.

you began pulling the rest of your dress down in a hurry when jiung stops you. meeting your eyes glossed over as if you’re on the verge of tearing up from the pleasure, quite so. flashing him a puzzled look.

“i don’t have a condom with me.” he finally brings it up, fingers slowly tracing the curve of your wrist.

“me too…” you replied, sullen. jiung feeling guilty from discreetly thinking you looked adorable from the pout on your face.

at that moment you saw the instantaneous spark of idea carried in his eyes. any other day, you’d probably shoot him a glare, but now you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. especially when he’s had you wrapped around his finger, vulnerable and exposed, feeling your nerves ignite from the tension.

“you can sit on my face baby.”

“what?”

“sit on my face.”

he repeats it so matter-of-factly that it left you completely speechless, in a struggle to find the right words in response.

“jiung, i– it’s my first time and—”

“i know” his tone is reassuring, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “and i want you to know that i got you.” you could only conjure a feeble whine. ‘cause what does he mean with the fact that the two of you were just bickering a few weeks ago, and now he wants you to smother his face with your cunt.

“think of it as payback.” he spoke, his voice holding a honeyed warmth.

“use me however you want, after all, i’ve caused you enough problems with that letter.”

well, it was the last you’ve coherently heard of him that night. especially when everything he tried to say came out muffled while he’s got quite literally a mouthful of your dripping pussy. the lewd scene unfolds within the privacy of your dorm room, relieved that your roommate hadn’t decided to return yet. and if you could still recall whether or not these walls were soundproof.

everything that unraveled was such a filthy sight. your black dress, bra, and panties with it’s notable patch of your arousal on the fabric—discarded in a pile somewhere on the floor. it was the least of your worries when you’re currently sitting snug over jiung’s face, cunny rubbing against his wet, warm tongue that had your knuckles clenched and holding onto the headboard for dear life.

making sense of how the hell you’d gotten yourself in this position, taking into account that it’s your first time delving into anything frisky. however, you were running on nothing else but raging horniness, maintaining your desperate rhythm as you ride his face. grinding your hips in haste, folds slick as you use his tongue to get off. just so damn erotic.

it was truly pushing you towards the edge faster than you’d like to admit. his tongue sliding in and out of your pulsing hole, lightning fast. slick kitten licking against your clit over and over, when it isn’t the tip of his nose bumping on your pleasured, swollen bud.

fuck, it was a far more tantalizing sight as you turned to look behind you. through your lashes, watching jiung’s obscene state—his pants dragged down, jerking himself off, fast. his hand gripping his cock just right, up and down, wishing it was your pulsing cunt squeezing his shaft right now.

he made it a point, the next time he gets to ravage you senseless, you’d be crying out having enough of his cock plowing into your hole.

now it was just you you you, using him like he insisted you did.

jiung begins to amp it up, eager to send you towards your high. his tongue simultaneously slipping in and out of your hole before dragging back up, flattened to flick at your clit—god, it felt insatiably good, the pace in which you roll your hips on his face grew faltered. thighs turning wobbly as you neared your climax.

“hahh—fuckkk… jiung, you… you make me feel so good,” you pant, breathlessly fucking yourself on his tongue.

the best he could do was to hum in reply, against your clit, the vibration feeling insanely good as it travels straight to your core. his other hand grips harshly on the plush of your thigh, nails raking over the skin. almost forming crescents, vulgar and indecent, yet it all felt too pleasurable.

“i’m close, ‘m so, so close~” you whine out, your tangled fingers in his hair tightening. earning another moan that vibrated over your swollen, needy clit. your other hand struggling to keep leverage on to the headboard.

at this point you’re far too deep in pleasure, desperate to cum as you chase your high. turning crazy from how it felt so so good to ride his face, tongue working you toward it, the squelch of your sticky arousal dripping down his chin. more, more, moreee—rolling your hips over his face like you’re in such a rut, and it seems to be the case.

suddenly—you trembled, writhing in convulse as it came crashing over you like a wave. a particular bump of the tip of his nose against your clit before his relentless suckling pushed you teetering toward the edge. and he so desperately wanted to cum with you at the same time, stroking his cock faster. collecting part of your slick dripping down his chin to wet his shaft. jiung feels your cunt begin to gush, his nails digging deeper crescents into the plush of your thigh because you visibly couldn't handle the shake of your knees from the pleasure. his tongue, never ceasing to flick and flatten as he drags it on to your clit. over and over, lapping up your sticky cum.

“ahh–mhmh, jiung~!” you tug on his hair, fingers laced as you tried to squirm away from his grip. “no more!” yet he's making it difficult for you to do so, both of his arms locking your thighs in place as he began his endless ordeal of licking up your release. s'too much, too much–yet felt too fucking good, rendering you overstimulated out of your mind, merciless.

and when you've finally freed yourself from his grip, you stumbled back on to your mattress, disoriented. it was a blur, feeling yourself momentarily lose balance, suddenly collapsing onto the sheets. jiung immediately rose to his elbows, reaching toward you despite his voice beginning to sound like a distant muffle. concern was greatly etched across his face, “y/n are you okay?” you hear him, and yet it resounded like a distant echo, seeing his concerned expression the last few seconds before your vision slips into darkness.

his composure falters at that instant. had he pushed you too hard? he gazed down on your figure, laying there seemingly peaceful despite your exhaustion. once again you're vulnerable beneath his eyes. to him, jiung takes it as another chance to take care of you, his eyes tracing every outline of your features. and the gentle heaving of your chest that reminded him that he has to prove you that you can trust him.

“tired... ung, i'm okay,” you manage to mumble, and he releases a sigh of relief. almost moving to touch you before he realizes that he's… made quite a mess of his own as well. making a quick trip to the bathroom to clean himself up, stumbling upon bits of your clothes strewn over the floor.

he found you alrewdy fast asleep when he came back. making it a point in his head to go easy on you next time–he wouldn't admit, but the way panic surged through his nerves once you collapsed got him shaken. but in a few minutes he's gotten you into your matching pajamas, tucked underneath a blanket as he slides beside you. he holds your body close to his chest, “night baby,” you couldn't hear him; nonetheless, he still wanted to whisper to you sweet, pressing chaste kisses atop your head.

jiung turns to your bedside table, almost reaching out to turn off your lampshade when he stops to see an abnormally neon yellow sticky note stuck on the wall above that read in bold ink: ‘presentation monday morning’

the presentation.

oh god, you both have to do the presentation tomorrow at 8am.

fuck.

[1:47] kyo: y/n where’d you go???

[1:49] kyo: jiung’s not here too?

[2:05] kyo: alright damn

[2:06] kyo: i get it

[ackerfics]

hange and their best friend (reader) "platonically" flirt with one another, they use pet names for each other, making others think they're together unintentionally. until reader finds an s/o, not knowing hange actually likes them

she — hange zoe

— hange zoe x female reader (modern au)

— warnings: angst ??? the stinging feeling you get when you see someone you love, love someone else

— summary: hange's best friend found love in the form of autumn while hange associates her with all of the seasons.

— word count: 2.5k

— notes: i love hange but i hate myself for writing something that hurts them :<<< they're my first love in aot and it pains me to imagine them hurting in any sort of way (which is probably the reason why i bawled my heart out in chap 132). this little fic hit too close at home for me bc it's exactly what i felt one time during high school. it's fucking traumatizing and istg, i don't want to relive falling in love with a friend again, it's like the most satisfying way to hurt, too. happy reading tho :<<<

reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

She embodies everything positive in Hange’s eyes.

She is spring — the bursting of blossoms under the tendrils of sunlight seeping between the spaces of the trees in the woods. Every time Hange closes their eyes, they are reminded of how she signifies every single flower they ever know. She makes them feel everything at once — see every color at once in a single frame. There is no space for artistic abilities in Hange’s calloused, mismatched hands but when it comes to her, they can create a myriad of paintings encapsulating her beauty at every stroke of a brush. Her laughs, her flowery perfume that doesn’t hurt their nose, her smiles that are as radiant as the early morning Sun — are ingrained in their brain. She brings forth the butterflies that Hange carefully imprisoned in their ribs, the monarchs’ wings already seeping through the cracks at every joke she makes, reaching to their heart until every beat swayed to the sound of her giggles.

“Hange, the love of my life, there you are!”

Hange turned around with a huge smile on their lips. Their conversation with Levi came to an abrupt stop, with the shorter man mumbling along the lines of ‘here we go again’. The small smile on his face spoke otherwise while watching two of his closest friends hug each other as if they didn’t live together in an apartment right outside of campus. It was such a mystery that Hange could be so comfortable around someone to the point of playfully kissing their neck in public, followed by their best friend’s melodious laughs soon after. However, Levi couldn’t be fooled. He knew the glint in the brown-haired person’s eyes. The downturn of their eyebrows when their best friend wasn’t looking. The longing was apparent when she was talking to someone across the room.

The idiot going by the name Hange Zoe was irrevocably in love with their best friend, [Name] [Last Name].

“What is it, baby?” Hange asked vibrantly, glasses reflecting the equally excited girl in their arms. “Didn’t know your class dismissed this early. What happened?”

“Nothing. Our professor announced that we should visit a museum for our finals.” She then mimicked the haughty tone of her Art History professor, straightening her back to make herself appear taller. “Choose a painting or a sculpture and trace down its history and attach your critique in the final output. If I see anyone half-assing this paper, I will not hesitate to give a failing grade that will make you retake this class. I know you lot don’t want to see me again for another semester and I don’t want to see you again, too. So, prove to me you’re worth your standing in this course.” She cleared her throat. “What he said.”

Hange whistled. “Dang, I’m happy that I didn’t follow you to the Arts Department. Your professor sounds like a complete asshole.” They chortled the next second. “Sounds like my mom, to be honest.”

“At least your mom makes a bomb bento box.”

“Yeah, I guess, you’re right.” Hange then nuzzled their face in her hair. “But your bento boxes taste much more delicious — I could eat them all day. Can I be your partner so that you’ll cook for me every day?”

“I’ve already taken the position of your wife the moment I agreed to be your roommate in university, sweetheart. And I cook for you every single day so you don’t have to ask to be my partner because you already are.”

Hange looked smug at her reply, the heat in their cheeks traveling to their ears. “That was a rhetorical question but hearing those words come out of your mouth, it’s making me feel things.”

“Oh? What are those things?”

The brown-haired person snickered under their breath, glancing at Levi who was now looking at the two of them in that lazy way of his that might come off as him being annoyed again. In reality, he was only waiting for the two to finally stop flirting to recognize he was there. His daily job of being a third-wheel should’ve started fifteen minutes ago but Hange wouldn’t let [Name] go. Hange turned back to the expectant girl. “I don’t want Levi to hear what I’m about to say. Just expect something back at the apartment,” they joked, a cheeky smile tugging at their lips.

[Name] laughed heartily. “I’m looking forward to that, gorgeous.”

“I’m still here, you know?” Levi dryly made himself known. He huffed and turned around in the direction of the university restaurant. “Come on, lovebirds, let’s have lunch. Oh, and [Name]?” When he heard her little hum of acknowledgment, Levi slightly turned around to meet his friend’s eyes with his jaded ones. “It’s your turn to buy me a drink. Make it a venti today.” She only blinked at him, giving him no choice but to resort to that dumb thing she always asked. “Please can I have a venti this time? I got you and Hange a venti last time so this makes us even.”

“Ooh, make mine a venti, too, baby!” Hange squeezed their best friend’s waist.

“Anything for my sweetheart.”

“Again, I’m right here, you know.”

Just the thought of that little scenario hurts Hange.

But as much as the pain comes in the package, she is still summer in their eyes.

The Sun can’t compare to the brilliance of her smile. Kind smiles and gentle touches under the warm rays of the summer heat. Her scent is yellow to Hange — so bright and warm that they don’t care how long they bask in her presence, never caring if they get burned because it feels so right to be within her orbit. She urges them to feel so loved and so special, tender caresses of her warmth cascading down every vein until it reaches their heart. The cerulean waters of the sea hold nothing against the beauty of her grins, brown eyes searching for her every time of the day no matter how ethereal the world painted itself to be. Viewing the sights with rose-colored glasses is what they may call it but for Hange, it’s simply her. Someone once said that summer brings forth a paradise where blue covers everything in its wake, the cry of the seagulls reverberating in the distance, and the scent of ice cream flickers in the breeze. For Hange, summer is in the form of pretty close-lipped smiles, of late-night movie marathons on a worn-out couch, of bento boxes filled with their favorites, of a scent so saccharine, and a loyal friend.

A friend.

Of course. No matter where Hange goes, that word haunts them. Hidden beneath their smiles, their jokes, their longing, and admiring stares. It’s a reminder of where they stand in this limbo they created. At one point, they thought that line had been crossed only for it to be established again in permanent ink. And before they know it, Hange is tumbling down in a spiral, along with a change of seasons.

Fall is where everything started.

The orange glow of the leaves created the perfect view as she sipped on her tall cup of warm coffee. The blissful sigh that came soon after warmed up Hange, even though they were seated in front of each other in the outside tables of the small cozy café where Levi was working at. The chill brought by the autumn wind caused both of them to shiver in their layered clothing. The way she nuzzled more into her scarf made Hange coo, reaching out to pinch her cheek affectionately. Autumn was both their favorite season, how it made them resort to the comfort and warmth their sweaters bring, or how they cuddle in each other’s beds with the air conditioner blasting despite the cold. It was also a season where Hange could admire her in their hoodie, a piece of clothing that swallows her whole because she’s so small compared to their lanky figure.

Hange remembered being called out here because she wanted to talk about something. Now that they thought about it, her cheeks appear to be glowing more than usual and she kept glancing inside the café where Levi was busy telling his coworker how to make the new drink. Hange even went as far as following her gaze but they didn’t find anything out of the ordinary other than Levi sighing in that stressful way of his that always made them snicker. They turned back to their Sun, who was once again in a daze while staring at the clear windows of the café. “So,” they prolonged the syllable, “how’s life going, darling? I know we’re living in the same apartment but I just can’t help but ask you this because it seems like you’re always in a daze these days.”

A pause made the breeze’s call known.

“Hey, Hange, have you ever been in love?”

That spread the chill even more inside Hange’s chest. She called them by their name. Not sweetheart nor big spoon. The reality washed over Hange like a pail of freezing water.

“W-What?” Damn, they couldn’t keep the stutter off their words.

She turned her head to them, eyes so soft and smile so beautiful that made Hange breathless for one second. The butterflies dwindled, losing their iridescent wings when they realized that look wasn’t reserved for them anymore. “I thought about it,” she murmured, rubbing her numbing fingertips on the warm cup. “I have never fallen in love with anyone before. Sure, I love you and all our friends but I’ve never stopped and thought about how someone can look like starlight in front of me. But recently,” again, that pretty smile that pierced Hange’s chest, “I never knew that it could hit me that unexpectedly.”

Hange grinned despite the pounding of her chest. “So, who’s the lucky person?”

She chuckled, going back to staring at the interior of the café. “I told Levi to lay off on scolding her but he never listens, says she’ll never grow a backbone if he’s being considerate on her.”

Now, they’re confused because the only people manning the counter as she spoke was Levi (and she would never fall in love with Levi, seeing as they grew up together like siblings rather than the childhood friends that they are) and a strawberry blonde who looked like Levi’s become their worst nightmare. It took Hange a full minute to process that the person she’s been staring at was never their mutual friend, but the strawberry blonde who looked up towards their direction and waved with a pretty blush on their cheeks. She waved back with the same shyness, leaving Hange dumbfounded. “Wait, the person you’re in love with is—”

“Yeah, it’s her.”

Suddenly, Hange understands why she’s starting to like autumn.

It reminds her of the girl’s hair, which she gushes about smelling like coconut. It reminds her of the girl’s preferred perfume, how it smells so much like cinnamon, something that she sometimes puts in her autumn drinks because in her words, ‘it’s the perfect season rather than winter’. It reminds her of the girl’s hugs, the way both of them fit with each other like lost puzzle pieces.

But as the seasons change, feelings of long-term pining will always be constant.

“Are you okay, though?” Erwin asked them, blue eyes reflecting their pathetic faux smile. He pushed the plate of pasta to them since Erwin had an idea that Hange wasn’t eating that much now. It also worried [Name].

“Yeah, four-eyes, I know you’re not doing that great and I’m saying this in the friendliest way possible because we’re worried now,” Levi reminded them, sipping on his tea with slightly narrowed eyes. “You always decline whenever we want to bring you to somewhere, to the point of leaving Nanaba on voicemail. You always answer at the first ring. Look here, shitty four-eyes,” the way Levi enunciated the nickname made Hange slowly turn their head to him, face void of the smile they were known for, “shouldn’t you be happy for her? [Name] gained the courage to confess and you’re here moping when you should’ve been supportive—”

“And what of my feelings, Levi?”

That made Levi blink and feel like an asshole.

Then, the dam broke.

“I’ve been with her all this time, you’ve seen that. You witnessed how this shy girl opened up to an extroverted idiot and became one of her best friends during high school. It feels like I can’t fucking breathe because I always thought we were meant to be. When she was lonely, I was there to comfort her. When she got a bad grade on an exam, I was the one who knows what flavors of ice cream she wants or how she eats them together like a fucking milkshake. Every day, I never expected her to look my way like she looks at her girlfriend right now. It fucking hurts. It feels so empty to know that I’m not the one she fell in love with. What did I lack? Should I be sweeter and gentler like that girl? Or dainty whenever I eat like she is? Be girly and dress up like a doll? Fuck, I can’t even bring myself to hate her girlfriend. She’s so nice and kind and sweet, anything I’m not.” Hange buried their hands in their hair, making it messier than it was.

“I just want [Name] to love me and make things wonderful. Why isn’t Fate on my side this time?

“Why didn’t she choose me?”

Tears were now drifting down like snowflakes.

“Hange,” Erwin murmured.

“Look, sunshine, it’s snowing!”

A voice catches their attention. A strawberry blonde cheers the words with glee painted in her eyes. Beside her is the subject of the trio’s conversation, the subject of a brown-haired person’s affections. Her eyes are taking in the beauty that is her girlfriend. She looks so pretty in love — how her eyes crinkled at the corners and how snow clung on her eyelashes as if she is a fairy straight from a fairy tale Hange loves when she was a kid. Her girlfriend takes her hand and pulls her to the restaurant where the trio is watching from the windows. Gray and blue irises slide over a somber bespectacled person, gauging their reaction though their face never gives anything away.

“I’m right behind you, Petra. I just took the time to admire you because you’re so pretty under the snow.”

“Stop it! You’re prettier!”

“Did you know that seeing the first snow of the year together with the person you love, your relationship will rival that of eternity?”

“Then, I’m happy I get to see this first snow with you, sunshine.”

“Me, too, angel.”

Hange smiles under a steady stream of tears. “I’m happy for her. I’m happy she found happiness even if it’s not with me.”

The chill blows inside the warm walls of the restaurant the moment the door opens, [Name]’s joyous greetings for her best friends bringing smiles to two of them. Her eyes drift to brown ones before turning to Petra to ask for a pack of tissues since Hange’s tears are still visible. Hange watches the commotion with a small smile, the chill spreading through them like a snowstorm.

Winter is here.

general taglist:

@angelofthorr

[sergeantsporks]

Summer School

Rating: General Audiences, Gen

Part 3 of Camila is Hunter’s Mom Now

You know how there was always that one kid who was smarter than everyone else, and then they transfer to a new school, and suddenly they're not the smartest one there anymore? Yeah. Hunter finds out that nothing in the Boiling Isles prepared him for a human high-school education.

Ao3

“Hey. Thanks for meeting up with me, I know you’re busy.” Camila sat down in a chair, motioning for Hunter to sit down next to her.

An old man—the nameplate on his desk pronounced him “Principal Hal”—sighed. “Yes. Of course, Miss Noceda.”

“I’ve found… alternate schooling methods for Luz, but I’ve enrolled my two other children, Vee and Hunter in school.”

“I know.”

“Eheh. Right. The thing is… Hunter hasn’t ever… had any kind of formal schooling. So… he’s never taken higher maths, or sciences. He doesn’t know algebra, or chemistry, or…”

Principal Hal heaved another sigh. “So, what exactly does he know?”

Hunter crossed his arms. “I know thirteen different ways to kill you where you sit,” he snapped.

Camila shot him a look. “He can read, and write, and do basic math—it’s just high school, really. Oh, and history, he hasn’t ever taken a history course.”

“Well, we have summer school options—it’s a bit late, but we can look at squeezing him in. And Vee?”

“Vee went to summer camp, and she did very well there, she should be just fine.”

“Hm. Well, I’m very sorry that Luz won’t be joining us this year—”

“No, you’re not,” Camila muttered.

“—but I’m very glad she’s found a schooling system that… works better for her.” Principal Hal scribbled something down on a piece of paper, and handed it to Camila. “Take that to the front office, and they’ll get you the textbooks Hunter will need for his summer schooling.” Principal Hal looked like he’d bitten into a lemon. “I… look forward to having you as a student here, young man.”

Hunter inclined his head. “Thank you for your time, sir.”

He followed Camila out of the office. “I don’t think he likes me.”

“You threatened to kill him thirteen different ways. I don’t blame him. That was very nice at the end, though, thank you.”

Hunter felt a warm glow in his chest at the praise. “How come Luz isn’t coming?”

“Luz… never did well in school. And she’s determined to go back to Hexside, so I’ve enrolled her in some online courses so that she won’t fall behind on human studies, and if she can get through the Boiling Isles, I’ll… let her continue her education there. If she promises to check in frequently, and hide the portal very, very well.” Camila stopped in front of a wide desk, handing the secretary the piece of paper that Principal Hal had handed her.

The secretary disappeared and came back with a stack of books that she pushed to Hunter. “First class is Monday, you’ll be with the sophomores retaking algebra. Welcome to the family.”

Hunter picked up the books gingerly, trailing behind Camila. “Why does this book have a lizard on it if it’s a math book?”

Camila unlocked the car, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Great question. I don’t know.”

“What’s a sophomore?”

“Second year of high-school. You’ll be a junior, a third year.”

The lower class. With the students who’d failed algebra the first go round. Hunter’s ears burned, and he cracked open the algebra book, staring at the numbers. “I can read this outside of class?”

“Sure, if you want to.”

By the time they got home, Hunter was deep in. He kept reading as he walked inside, going straight to the kitchen table and setting the books down. He could figure this out—and then he could move up, at the very least to the regular second year level. He still had time before he officially started school—he could learn all of this.

Luz came bouncing down the stairs. “Amity responded! I have no clue how this thing works across dimensions, but I am so glad—hey, whatcha reading, Hunter?”

He didn’t look up. “Algebra.” He flipped the page, and neat, numbered rows of problems faced him. “Hey, they give you practice problems!”

“Blech, I thought you were my brother, Hunter. Math? When you don’t have to?”

“I’m behind. I need to catch up, or I’ll be stuck in lower grades.”

“Oh, right. Prodigy with extreme fear of failure. I forgot.”

Hunter tuned her out, digging out his old sketchpad and copying the first problem, flipping back in the book for the solving process. “Mhm.”

“Anyway, now that I can contact Amity, we’re going to work on opening a portal from their end.”

“Uh-huh.”

“She has the titan’s blood and ingredients on her end—hopefully it won’t be long before she can figure it out.”

Hunter frowned, checking over his work. “Mmm.”

“Watch out, there’s a deadly monster behind you.”

“K.”

Luz heaved a long-suffering sigh and left him to the book. Hunter re-read the lesson, then flipped back to the problems.

I can do this.

The day passed by in a blur, Hunter plugged through the book, slowly but surely. At least this made sense—everything had a logical, calculable end. It wasn’t like magic, where intent and emotion played factors.

“Hunter—Hunter, it’s time for dinner.”

Hunter barely heard Camila, glaring at the quadratic formula. He kept misplacing a negative, he was pretty sure.

A hand reached over and closed the book with a thump. “Hunter. Give your brain a break and eat something, mijo.”

Hunter struggled to pull the book open against Camila’s hand. “I’ve almost got this one figured out—I can get it—”

“Dinner. Math can come after.” Camila cleared the book away. “I’m glad you’re taking school seriously, but it’s important for you to do other things, too. Don’t worry—you’ll catch up, you’re a smart kid.”

“I need to—”

“What you need to do is take a break and eat. Come on, help me set the table.”

Hunter slowly got up and opened the drawer for napkins. His stomach growled at the smell coming from the stove. Alright, maybe it was time he took a break. Look at you, Golden Guard. All… domestic.

“Luz! Vee!” Camila called, “Dinner!”

Vee came bounding down the stairs, but Luz was nowhere to be seen.

“Luz!” Camila called again.

“She’s looking at potential wild portal spots,” Vee explained.

“Ayiyi. One won’t put down his math textbook and the other one won’t stop looking for a way into the demon realm.” Camila thumped up the stairs, and Vee poked at the algebra book.

“Algebra can be tricky. We did a lot of math-y stuff back at camp. Where are you?”

“Quadratic formula.”

“Already?”

Hunter shrugged. “I’m a quick learner.”

Luz bumped down the stairs, Camila shooing her onwards. “You and Hunter are going to get healthy eating and working habits if it kills me!”

After dinner, Vee started on the dishes, and Hunter opened up the math book again. I am going to figure this out.

After a while, Luz and Vee disappeared upstairs. Camila put a hand on his shoulder with a yawn. “Don’t stay up too late, ‘kay?”

“Mhm.”

Camila flipped off all of the lights except the kitchen one.

Red fluttered down to his shoulder as he yawned, chirping that he ought to go to bed.

“I’m so close. Just one more lesson.”

Xxx

Camila blinked blearily at her alarm as it beeped at her. She yawned, changing into her scrubs and heading down the stairs. The kitchen light was still on, Hunter slumped on the table, his algebra book open next to him. Camila gently slid the pencil out of his hand, scooping him up and moving him to the couch. He nestled into the cushions with a sigh, Red landing on his chest and closing its eyes with a sleepy cheep

“Oh, what am I going to do with you?” Camila sighed. She glanced at the textbook, then grabbed a few sticky notes, writing ‘remember to take a break’ on them and sticking them in the book every few lessons. She shook her head, grabbing her keys and flipping off the kitchen light. “Buenos noches, mijo.”

Xxx

“Hunter. Hey, Hunter. Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuunter.”

Hunter snapped awake, sitting up so fast he nearly head-butted Luz in the face. Red slid off of his chest, flapping its wings frantically to right itself.

“Wow, you’re twitchy.”

Hunter yawned. When had he moved to the couch? He didn’t even remember falling asleep! “Hngh—what time is it?”

“Nine-o-clock, sleepy-head! Hey, you know a lot about titan’s blood, right? You think you could look over some stuff and tell me which you think is most likely to be a wild portal?”

Hunter rubbed his eyes. “If you can see the demon realm in the water, it’s a wild portal. Oh, or if the water is boiling hot.”

“You mean like a geyser?”

“I wouldn’t recommend jumping into one of those, but yes. Like a geyser.”

“Hmmmm.” Luz picked up his sketchpad from the table. “You need any help with math? Can’t say I’ll actually be ABLE to help you, but—”

Hunter snatched the sketchpad away. “I don’t need help,” he snapped.

“Yeesh. Okay. Have fun with your numbers.”

Hunter shuffled to the table. A single sticky note was stuck to the cover of the book.

Don’t forget to eat breakfast, it read cheerfully.

Ah. Camila.

Hunter went to the pantry and shoved a protein bar in his mouth. There. Breakfast. He opened the math textbook again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Alright. Three quarters of a math book, one day to go before summer school. He could do this. One more all-nighter.

“Whoa.” Vee peered over his shoulder at his sketchpad. “Hey, why don’t you… come on out with me. I’ll introduce you to my friends from cabin seven. You need to touch grass.”

Hunter scribbled through a line of numbers. Wrong. “Nope. I’m busy.”

“You know that you’re supposed to learn this stuff at summer school, right? Not two days beforehand.”

“I’m learning it now, so I’ll be prepared for what they want me to do there.”

“Uh… that’s not how it’s supposed to—”

“I can’t be in the class with the failures!” Hunter blurted.

Vee blinked. “Oh.”

Hunter flipped the cover of the book back and forth, his other hand tapping on the table. “I’ve got to learn this now, so that they’ll move me up to the next subject—I’m two years behind, Vee, and don’t even get me started on history!”

“That’s not your fault.”

“I can’t fail here—being here in the human realm is my second chance, and I can’t blow it! Camila thinks I’m smart, and I can’t prove her wrong!”

Vee sat down at the table next to him. “Whoa. Okay. Calm down, Hunter. You are smart, and that has nothing to do with how good at math you are.” She gestured to his sketchpad. “Look at how far you came in a day by yourself!”

Hunter slammed his hand down on the table. “It’s not enough, I’m still way behind!”

“Hunter. Hey, Hunter. Listen. You… don’t have to be the best at everything, okay?”

“Yes, I do, that’s how this works.”

“No. It’s really not. You don’t have to be the best. As long as you’re doing as well as you can… that’s what matters to Camila, okay? Even if you don’t succeed. Camila thinks you’re smart because you are. You don’t have to prove it to her. And you don’t have to pull all-nighters and learn the entirety of algebra in two days to be smart. C’mon, you need to quit focusing on school for a few hours.”

Hunter ran a hand through his hair. “Just a few more lessons—

“No.” Vee snatched the textbook away. “I’m going to keep this until you take a break. And maybe a nap, you look like you didn’t get any sleep.”

“What? No, I didn’t mean to, but I did fall asleep.”

“Hunter.”

“Fine, fine, you win. I’ll just steal it back later.”

She yanked his hood over his head. “Good luck. Just a couple of hours not doing algebra, Hunter.”

“Fine. I guess I can do that.”

“Good. Come on, let’s go meet up with my friends, they’ll predict your future with hexes hold ‘em cards.”

“I understood all of those words separately. Are your friends…okay?”

Vee grinned. “Trust me. They’re gonna love you.”

[221bshrlocked]

Starstruck (3)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader

Words: 5051

Warnings: Masturbation. Caught in the act kinda thing. Oral (female receiving). Penetrative, unprotected sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong). More science-y, kinda romantic talk. Fluffy Beck. 

Summary: It’s the holidays and everyone’s gone for Christmas but you’re still stuck in school because you need to retake your final since the professor was nice enough and didn’t want to fail you. It just so happened that there is a sciences expert living in the same house as you, one that you’ve never spoken to before. Things get interesting when he offers to help you out, but what’s in it for him?

Prompt: “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

A/N: We’re going to pretend that part 2 wasn’t posted two years ago. God I’m so happy I finally finished this. Chris Beck will always hold a special place in my heart. I hope you liked my rendition of one soft college space nerd. You can catch up with the two other parts here and here. Please let me know how I’m doing in the comments. This isn’t beta’d btw.

Read Previous Part Here

Had it not been for the exam you were terrified of, you would have probably allowed yourself to enjoy every minute you spent with Chris a little bit more. True to his word, Chris was available to answer any and all of your questions, no matter the time of day. He even convinced you to go out with him a couple of more times when he saw how stressful your days were. Between memorizing formulas and solving chemistry problems, you were sure this was the worst week of your life. 

But then you remembered how much Chris made you laugh and you realized that had it not been for this exam, you wouldn’t have been able to spend time with him. And you hated how absolutely adorable he was, just the right amount of dorky and sexy. When the day of the exam arrived, Chris walked with you to the professor’s office, telling you he was sure you were going to pass it and that you just needed to trust yourself. He was about to walk away when the door of the office opened and out came your professor, Dr. Daniels. 

“Hey Chris, I haven’t seen you since your undergrad years. How long has it been?” Chris shook his hand and you could only stand there awkwardly as they struck up a conversation.

“I think two years maybe, I’ve been meaning to email you actually. But we can talk about that later.” Chris smiled before turning to you and wishing you good luck.

“Oh you know Y/N?” Dr. Daniels pointed to you and you nodded at the question. 

“Uh yeah we live in the same house.” You wondered why Chris didn’t tell him he was helping you out but you didn’t think too much of it.

“I tell you, if you’d asked him for help, then this would have been the easiest two hours of your life.” Dr Daniels said to you, laughing and watching as you looked at Chris for a moment before turning back and responding to him.

“Actually, Chris here has been helping me out for the past week. I’m really lucky I found him.” You refused to look at Chris after your little comment, afraid you’d said too much in front of him. 

“Oh well in that case, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Come on in, the quicker you start, the quicker you can finish and enjoy your break with Chris...and I’ll see you later.” Dr. Daniels motioned for you to step inside his office before walking behind you and nodding at Chris. 

“Yeah, it was nice catching up with you.” Chris waved at him, his eyes never leaving you as you set up your calculator and pencils on the desk. You looked back just in time to see him smiling at you before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away. You took a deep breath before looking down at the exam packet, writing your name on the blue book and flipping the first page to begin your nightmare of an afternoon.

Two hours later, you put everything in your bag and stood up, reluctantly walking to Dr. Daniels desk before turning it in.

“So, how are we feeling this time around?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. But I think it’s better than last week. Once again, thank you so much for giving me the chance to do better. I can’t begin to tell you how much of a difference this makes.”

“Please, it’s nothing. I don’t understand why, to this day, they allow students who aren’t going in the field to take this level of Organic Chemistry. It makes no sense to me so anything to help you out and get back at the school.” He chuckled, flipping through the pages of handwriting before placing the blue book on top of his pile of exams. “I’ll email you your grade by the end of the night just so you don’t have to worry about it during your break. And good luck with everything else, it was a pleasure having you in class.” 

“Thank you so much Dr. Daniels. Enjoy your break and Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas.”

You exited his office, quietly shutting the door behind you before turning around, only to bump into someone. “Oh sorry I didn’t s- Chris! W-what’re you doing here?” You stared at him like he grew a second head, not sure why he was standing right outside the office.

“I got us hot chocolate to celebrate you acing that final!” He handed you your cup and walked ahead of you. You stared at the cup in your hands then back at him, amazed that he was somehow still single. 

“Oh wow thank you, you didn’t have to.” You took a long sip of the drink, wanting to hide behind your up for a little.

“Of course I did. So umm, do you have any plans tonight?” Chris cleared his throat before looking at his shoes.

“Not really no. Dr. Daniels said he’d get my grade by the end of the night so I was just going to spend the rest of my day on my bed, trying not to cry because I probably didn’t do well. No offense to your impeccable tutoring skills.” Humor was your defense mechanism but Chris didn’t think what you said was funny, stopping abruptly before turning and facing you.

“Listen, you understood everything I explained and you did good in there. Give yourself some credit. And since you’re doing nothing, then I think we should go have dinner and watch a movie.” He rambled through that last bit and you blinked confusingly at him before nodding in agreement. Chris continued to walk, opening the door of the building for you and waiting until you exited before following behind you.

“I- sorry, I meant to ask you to dinner, n-not force you into it. If you don’t want to go that’s fine I just-”

“I was hoping you’d ask.” You cut him off, reaching for his hand and intertwining your fingers. It took Chris three seconds to look down and smile at you before tripping over his words again. You sighed in relief and patted yourself on the back for the moment of bravery. 

“Great t-that’s great. You’re really great.” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth, and it only worsened when you noticed him blush.

“I’m sorry I promise I’m not laughing at you...I just think it’s adorable that you’re a genius who managed to say ‘great’ three times in a row. No other adjectives in your dictionary right now?” Chris’ embarrassment was more evident now and you hated that you couldn’t stop teasing him. He looked so cute trying to hide from you and you wanted to see him blush again.

“Well, I would be capable of using other adjectives to describe how happy I am right now had it not been for a certain pretty girl who actually agreed to go out with me…” Whatever you thought he would say, that was the last thing that came to mind and you pretended you weren’t jumping up and down in your mind because did he really just call you pretty?

“What’s the matter Y/N? Cat got your tongue?” There was a hint of flirtation in his tone and you rolled your eyes at him, knowing fully well that he could see your reaction to his words. You walked in silence the rest of the way, occasionally catching each other staring before giggling and clasping your hands a little tighter. When you did reach the house, Chris was first to walk in, telling you that he had no patience for the rest of your house mates. No one was in so the two of you sat in the living room and played cards. 

Neither of you watched the time and you only noticed how many hours went by when you heard the familiar bell of the church on campus strike six times. You were hysterically laughing at Chris telling you about how he had to scrub down his friend during a Chemistry lab one time because he tripped and spilled some random chemical on his hands. It wasn’t acidic thankfully but they still had to follow protocol and Chris made sure his friend would never let it down.

“Oh god is that the time already? Listen, we should go get dressed to make it in time for the last showing of the night.” Chris collected all the cards and stood up, pulling you along with him and guiding you upstairs.

“I’ll be ready in fifteen.” You reached your room and ran inside, afraid you’d do or say something stupid about how much you enjoyed the day. Shutting the door, you frantically ran around your room, trying to decide on something cute to wear. You finally paired a long-sleeve shirt with a skirt only to see Chris’ NASA sweatshirt lying on your couch. Picking it up, you took a deep breath and walked to his room to give it to him. When you saw the door was open, you knocked softly and walked in, looking around to see where he was. 

Maybe he went downstairs to grab something...

Leaving the sweatshirt on his chair, you turned around to leave only to find an almost naked and incredibly wet Chris standing in front of you and drying his hair. You tried so hard to not let your eyes go below his neck but you couldn’t, watching as a few droplets of water rolled down his chest, almost as if they were inviting you to go and lick them off. 

When you did finally meet his eyes, you saw a faint blush take over his cheeks and neck.

“Did you need anything?” His hands dropped from his head and he looked around to see if you might have left something in his room by accident.

“I uhh, there was this thing- I mean I found your ummm….s-sweatshirt…I had your sweatshirt and I just wanted to return it.” You looked everywhere else but him, silently waiting for him to kick you out of his room or call you out for going inside without his permission.

“Thanks,” Chris could tell how much you were affected by him and he wasn’t a vain person, not really, but he felt so proud of the hours he spent in the gym because to have you looking at him like that was a dream come true. He could tell how embarrassed you were and decided to end the awkward moment, moving aside and continuing to dry his hair. 

“I’ll see you in a bit.” You whispered before, quite literally, sprinting out of the room and into yours. The door was slammed shut behind you by accident and you hated how shamelessly obvious you were in front of him. Waiting for a few seconds, you moved around the room to try and even out your breath. You felt a sudden chill go down your body and you didn’t realize what you were doing until you were laying down on your bed and pulling the skirt down your legs. Shutting your eyes, it took seconds to conjure up the image of Chris in nothing but a towel, his hair wet and dripping down his impressive chest. You bit your lower lip and moved your panties to the side, sucking on your fingers before reaching down to your slit.

You slowly circled your clit, applying enough pressure to get you wet before inching your middle finger inside your aching core, sighing as you pictured Chris’ hands instead, his blue eyes taking you in as he brought you pleasure. Spreading your thighs a little wider, you increased your pace and imagined his cock teasing your entrance and coating himself with your juices. You knew you had to be quick because the last thing you wanted to do was miss spending more time with him. Throwing back your head, you moaned his name over and over again as you felt yourself reaching that little high. 

But before you could let go, you heard a swear in the form of a vague whisper coming from the direction of the door, eyes widening in horror when you looked up and saw Chris standing there and staring at you. You didn’t know what to do, reluctantly removing your hands before sitting up and grabbing a towel.

“STOP!” Chris wanted to apologize when he saw your body jump at the loud command, but he wanted to make sure you didn’t wipe your hand anywhere. He carefully approached you, not wanting to frighten you anymore with his presence. You watched him like a hawk, knowing this road only had one end.

Chris stood beside the bed and leaned down, looking at your heaving chest before gently taking your hand, not giving you a chance to react as he pulled it to his mouth and started sucking on your fingers. You moaned at the filthy reaction, your eyes incapable of focusing on anything but the way he rolled his tongue around your wet fingers. 

When he saw that you weren’t going to push him away, he let go of your hand and kneeled on the bed, trapping your body between his arms as he leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss. You melted beneath him, all shyness flying out the window as you felt his hands explore your flushed skin. You moaned into his mouth when you felt him slip his hands beneath your shirt. But Chris misunderstood and immediately pulled away, searching your features for any sign of discomfort before he asked if he could take your shirt off.

“Is...is this okay?” He whispered, stopping his exploration of your skin to not distract you. Your eyes fluttered open and looked into his, and he smiled to himself when he saw how dilated your pupils were.

“Oh god yes please Chris.” 

That seemed to be all that Chris needed to hear because not a second later, he was fisting his hands in your shirt and dragging it up your body until it was off. He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over the expanse of your newly exposed torso, licking his lips in anticipation when he could see your nipples poking through the thin material of your bra. He returned his attention to your eyes, smiling when you sighed as he slipped his arms behind your back to unclasp your bra. When he pulled the straps down your arm and threw the undergarment behind him, your breathing picked up and he thought it’d probably be better if he slowed down a bit.

“Relax Y/N, if you want me to stop I c-” He slowed down and was about to move away from you when he felt your hands grab his wrists and pull him back. 

“No, n-no keep going please. I just- you...you make me nervous.”

“Why baby? You didn’t look nervous five minutes ago when you called out my name as these little fingers sank into your sweet pussy.” He shouldn’t have teased you about what he saw but he couldn’t pass up at the chance, the look on your face making him grow harder in his jeans. 

“Chris...please.” You turned away from him, nuzzling into the arm next to your cheek and biting down on his skin to distract him. 

“Tell me honey, what were you thinking of? I’ll give you anything you want, anything you want from me. But I wanna know what you were thinking of. Please.” Chris leaned down and nipped at your jaw before leaving a trail of kisses down your throat, biting down on your shoulder when it took you a little longer to respond to him.

“I- I thought of your fingers touching me, m-making me...oh god, making me cum. And...and I pictured you teasing me with your cock as you spread my thighs open and f-finally...finally- please, oh fuck please…” You shivered when you felt him slowly easing your panties down your leg before settling between your thighs.

“Finally what baby?” Chris looked up and held your gaze as he bit into your inner thighs, smiling he saw your hands fisting into the sheets beneath you.

“F-fucked me until I forgot my name.” You blinked down at him, gasping when he raised an eyebrow at your choice in words before he leaned down one more time and kissed your skin.

“Well why didn’t you just say so sweetheart.” His mischievous smile made you nervous and you threw your head back as soon as you felt his tongue lick at your slit. You moaned and bit into the pillow when his lips closed around your clit and violently sucked at the engorged nub, and you swore you could feel him smirk when your hands shot to his hair and pulled on it.

“C-chris...fuck oh my god your mouth! Feels so good, so good...so-” Your back arched off the bed almost painfully and Chris reluctantly shut his eyes and dove into your cunt, humming in approval and moaning at your taste the harder you pulled at his hair. He let go of your legs and pushed down on your thighs before moving one hand to replace his tongue. He looked up and saw bliss taking over your features, using the moment of distraction to spit on your cunt before easing two fingers into your fluttering walls. 

Your eyes shot open instantly, looking down at him just as he descended on you again and licked at your clit while his fingers thrust in and out of you. You couldn’t focus on one specific sensation, the different stimuli pushing you to that familiar fluttering in your stomach. You were already so close before and feeling his fingers replace yours drove you over the edge. 

“Go on baby, let go. Cum for me, let me taste this sweet cunt drenching me. Please baby I want you so fucking badly it hurts. Be a good little girl and cum on my fingers so I could finally fuck you like you want.” Hearing him whispering those filthy, unhinged words to you broke you apart and you fell to the bed again, thighs shaking violently as you gushed around his fingers and on his tongue. Chris continued to suck on your clit, wanting to prolong your pleasure for as long as possible. With a slight graze of his teeth against your little bundle of nerves, you screamed his name and unintentionally shut your thighs around his head. 

Chris kissed your slit one last time before he eased his fingers out of you, rubbing the muscles of your legs to calm you down as he filled his eyes with your flushed skin. He bit his lower lip when he saw your stomach fluttering and your legs slightly shaking, squeezing your calves once before moving off of the bed and stripping off his clothes.

“C-chris…” You finally managed to open your eyes, smiling hazily at him as you touched yourself and watched as he took his clothes off. He was down to his boxers and waited a moment, laughing when he saw you pinch and pull at your nipples while you whined for him to hurry up.

“Aren’t you a greedy little thing?” Chris winked at you when he took his boxers off, his chest expanding with pride when he saw the look on your face. 

“Fuck me…” You spread your thighs wide open when he moved to sit between your knees, unable to hold back from reaching to him and grasping his heavy cock in your hand. “We- we don’t...fuck that’s it baby. Your hands are so warm...we don’t have to do anything you- you don’t want.”

“Chris please, need you. Want your- your cock in me, stretching me...fucking me. Hard...please.” You were speaking in broken sentences and Chris had to hold back from coming right then and there. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he allowed you to pull him closer to your cunt.

“Wait- wait...we need a-”

“IUD...I have an IUD...and I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. Unless you want one. I didn’t mean to make it seem like-” 

“Fucking hell you’re going to be the death of me baby. I was tested after my last time, can’t fucking remember when that was to be honest. Are you...are you sure? I can go grab a condom right now.” Chris didn’t take his eyes off of you once, hands gripping your ass as you maneuver yourself closer to him and swipe the head of his cock against your clit.

“Please...wanna feel you with nothing between us. Oh god Chris I just- I want you. Now. Please, fuck me. F-fuck me.” Your desperate pleas made him twitch in your hand and he nodded at you, looking down and watching as you slowly pushed the head of his cock in your cunt.

“Fuck...oh baby you’re so big. You’re stretching me Chris...already feel so full. Fuck, I- I need…” You weren’t sure what you were asking of him but Chris seemed to understand what you needed, leaning down and molding his lips with yours as he inched into you. He felt your nails digging into his back and groaned when your cunt clenched tightly around him. “Oh sweet fucking god Y/N...you’re so tight around me...squeezing the fuck out of me. Fuck baby that’s it...take it. Take my cock in that little pussy, you’re so perfect. Made for me...made to take my cock.” He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, kissing and licking at your damp skin as he finally sheathed himself fully inside of you.

You were both breathing heavily, and you whimpered when he continued to swear against your neck. You could tell he was having a difficult time holding back, the thought of how patient he was making your heart skip a beat. When you finally relaxed your muscles enough, you scratched the back of his neck and begged him to move.

“Chris…”

“Sweetheart...I- can I move?” 

“Y-yes...please.” 

The whispered plea drove him mad with lust and he pushed up on his elbows to look at you, never once breaking eye contact as he pulled out and bucked his hips back into you again. You sighed his name and threw your head back, focusing on the way his hard dick twitched inside you as it slid against your walls. You could feel the tip of his cock hitting that deep, soft spot inside you over and over again, knowing that you were somehow already close to coming again. 

“You’re amazing baby, fucking exquiste. Like heaven...heaven and my dreams. Oh god, I’m- you’re clenching so tightly around me...could feel this cunt sucking me in deeper. Shit, are- are you already close again?” He could feel the familiar tightening of your walls and hissed when you nodded at him.

“Ok...fuck, could you wait for me darling? Please...wanna cum with you, feel you milking me dry. Please baby I’m begging here. Wait for me, fuck, wait for me.” You couldn’t deny him his request even if you wanted to, and you opened your eyes just in time to see his eyebrows furrow in focus. You parted your lips and groaned his name like a mantra, telling him of how hot and hard and thick he felt, whispering how much you wanted him to cum in you, to fill you up and keep fucking you until neither of you could move.

“Baby...oh god, baby you’re fucking amazing. Beautiful...perfect. Oh fuck, I- I’m…”

“Cum with me Chris...please, want to feel you cum in me. With me. Oh- oh please-”

As soon as you looked down and saw where you were joined, the thread uncoiled, and you threw your arms around Chris, pulling him closer and gasping his name as he picked up the pace and fucked into you harder, the sound of slapping skin filling the room and making you wish you could scream his name.

He bit into your shoulder as he felt your walls flutter around him, growling and shaking above you as he felt his balls pulse and signal his release. He came deep inside your pussy, his rhythm faltering the harder you squeezed him and pulled him in. He could feel you whimpering beneath him, and he smiled when you crossed your legs across his back to keep him inside you once he started to slow down. 

You weren’t sure how long you remained tangled in each other’s arms and when Chris tried to push off of you, you shook your head and begged him to stay.

“Not going anywhere baby...fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever cum this hard. You’re...something special Y/N.” Chris leaned down and kissed your lips, smiling against you when he felt your hold tighten around his neck. He parted and hissed when your cunt clenched around him once more, unable to hold back from chuckling at the sweet sensation. He slowly eased himself out and leaned back on his knees, watching as his cum leaked out of you and rolled down your thighs.

“Fucking hell.” Chris inhaled deeply before reaching down for his shirt to clean you up.

“Wait no you’ll get it dirty.”

“Who cares?” He shrugged as he softly cleaned his mess, apologizing when he became a little excited and rubbed harder than he should have. Throwing the shirt away, he pushed you to the side before rolling next to you, moving you into his arms and looking up at the ceiling as you drew patterns on his chest. 

“Did you know that in ancient times, the seven musical notes were assigned to the seven heavenly bodies in various symbolic arrangements? Kepler basically precisely calculated these long imagined Harmoniae Mundi...he noticed that the ratios between planets’ extreme angular velocities were all harmonic intervals. And more recently even, Molchanov has shown that the entire solar system can be viewed as a ‘tuned’ quantum structure, with Jupiter as the conductor of the orchestra.” You blinked up in confusion at Chris, eyebrows furrowing when he looked down and smiled at you.

“Sorry...I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.” He blushed under your gaze, scratching his hair when your confused expression turned into an amused one.

“No no, you didn’t. I like listening to you talk about things you’re passionate about. I’m just surprised because you’re suddenly talking about harmonies which has nothing to do with your area.” You rested your chin on his chest and watched as he laid his head back in thought.

“Well, I was really interested in our last conversation and I read up on some stuff and I found all of these theories that connect music and geometry and space and the planets playing in tune and- god you’re going to think I’m stupid.” Chris shut his eyes and rubbed at his face, hoping to somehow hide from you until you let it go. 

“No never...please, what were you going to say?”

“I wanted to impress you...so I thought I could learn about harmonics and rhythms and I found all of this stuff about Kepler’s theories on planetary orbits and how he found the answer through geometry and musical spheres and...what?” He saw the way you were looking at him and blinked shyly, hoping that you wouldn’t think he was a complete weirdo. 

“That might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Chris’ expression grew softer at your confession, shutting his eyes when you leaned over and kissed his cheeks. 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Chris said as you pulled your head back to take a better look at him. What you saw in his eyes should have terrified you but instead, you felt your heart beat in comfort at his exclamation.

“So are you…” You nuzzled into his neck, twirling his hair around your fingers as you breathed his scent in and kissed his jaw. You were just about to doze off when a chime came from your phone. God, you knew the notification sound immediately, and you also knew who was emailing you so late in the afternoon.

“Oh god, I can’t check.” You shook your head and groaned when Chris leaned over and grabbed your phone. 

“Unlock it for me baby and I’ll check. I’m sure you did well.” He tried to put you at ease, kissing your forehead and whispering more assurances to you as you unlocked your phone and handed it to him. Scrolling through your apps, he found the Outlook app and clicked on it, opening the email from Dr. Daniels and reading through the email. You took in his face and cursed how well he was able to hide whatever emotion he was experiencing. 

“Well?”

“I think,” Chris said as he shut your phone off and placed it on the nightstand again, not giving you a chance to say anything as he rolled you underneath him and kissed your neck, “that we should forgo going out tonight, and stay in to celebrate. Properly celebrate your B+.” He laughed when you squealed and smashed your lips with his.

“Thank you thank you thank you, oh god I can’t believe I passed.”

“I knew you would sweetheart.” Chris fell back on the bed when you pushed him down, shutting his eyes and moaning in pleasure when you straddled him and left a trail of wet kisses down his scruff to his chest.

“Music and science aren’t the closest friends Chris...you can hardly blame me for not thinking I did well.” You whispered as you slowly pushed your hand between the two of you and took hold of his hardening dick.

“They might not be friends...but they are bedfellows...oh fuck.” You laughed at the remark, continuing your descent and kissing just above his happy trail. You smiled when you felt his hips buck against you, his fingers tightening their hold around your arms as you scratched his abdominal muscles. 

“In more ways than one obviously.”  

[stareyedplanet]

Rivalry [p.p.]

pairing: peter parker x reader

word count: 3034

warnings: fluff, a failing grade

summary: a rivalry between you and peter parker unfolds when you receive your first failing grade.

note: this was originally an oc one shot for a challenge on instagram, so if you see any illusions to that, that is why. i went through and did my best to change everything over. i may also post the oc version. i tried to go through and get rid of any mentions of blushing and other descriptors, so hopefully this can be read as pretty gender neutral. if you find anything though, please pm me or send an ask!

——

MIDTOWN HIGH SCHOOL WAS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE PLACE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. Then again, no one really ever truly liked going to school, not when they could be home doing various activities that were much more interesting than hours filled with boring facts and equations. Sure you were really good at it, and practically coasted along the entire time, but that didn't mean you enjoyed it being upwards of nine hours of your day, the seven hour school day combined with at least two hours of studying and homework.

But the learning wasn't the only thing you disliked about school. Peter Parker was another mark for the minus side.

Most people didn't have rivals, but you did. And his name was Peter. From day one you had been the top two kids in the class with the highest GPA's in the school. You had every class together. Every. Single. One. Which meant every test you both took was a competition, each of you hoping to break that tie you had held for over a year and a half.

You hadn't always gone to Midtown. You was a transfer your Sophomore year, moving from Brooklyn to Queens. It had been hard at first, and you had felt like an outcast, even going to a school full of kids whose smarts rivaled your own. Well, one did. And he was absolutely infuriating in your eyes.

The bell rang, signaling the final warning for all students to get to class. You shot him a glare as you moved to sit at your desk, which of course was right next to his.

"Parker," you bit out as you dropped your bag beside your seat.

"Y/N." Peter greeted, though his tone was much more friendly than hers had been.

The truth was, Peter had few problems with you. He appreciated the academic challenge you offered him. You kept his mind sharper because you puyoud him to be better than he was. He needed someone like that to remind him to do well in school—to remind him that being Spider-Man wasn't his whole life.

"So, you ready for the test?" Peter asked conversationally, trying to make small talk with you.

"Of course I am." You said shortly, shooting him a look. You had studied for hours. Chemistry had never been your best subject, and therefore you always needed more focused study time on it.

You wouldn't admit it to anyone, especially not Peter, but you were nervous. This unit was especially hard for you, and you were worried that you hadn't studied enough. But you couldn't get a bad grade on this test. If you did it would push Peter into first place. You couldn't let that happen.

You took a deep breath as your teacher handed out your tests, placing the packet on the desk in front of you. But the second you looked at the first question, your mind went blank.

"You have an hour. No additional time will be given for this test." Your teacher explained quickly.

You took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm your racing heart. You could do this. You knew you had the information in your head. It was there somewhere.

The time clicked passed and you kept glancing at the clock, watching as the hand moved closer to the end of class. You were screwed. So screwed because you had eight out of forty questions answered with only twenty minutes left in class.

At one point Peter had glanced over at you and noticed your expression. You looked worried, something he had never seen on your face while you were taking a test. To him the test was a breeze, but he could tell you were struggling more than usual.

When class came to an end, you were hesitant to turn yours in. Your hand was shaking and you just knew you had failed. The last five minutes had been spent rushing through and circling random answers, hoping for the best, but even still you didn't get the last page done. Which meant you definitely had seven questions wrong. And based on the way the questions you had actually taken her time on were looking, you had a feeling you had failed the test. It was a feeling deep in your gut that you just couldn't shake and you despised it.

The two days between getting the test back and the day you took it were excruciatingly long. You were glad you had no tests in that time because you felt like you had lost your head. Nothing felt right anymore. School became harder and you found herself spacing out a lot more than usual. You knew it was because you had lost confidence in yourself, but you couldn't help it. Not until you got your test back.

Finally, it was grade day. you sat at your desk as Mr. Turner talked. He always waited until the end of the period to have the students pick up their grades. It kept them from interrupting as much with questions or some nonsense about disagreements with grades. If there was anything wrong it was much easier for them to talk to him about it after class, or even after school.

You startled when the bell rang through. you had spaced out yet again and become lost in your thoughts. With uncertainty, you approached Mr. Turner, waiting to be in the back of the line so no one else would hear or see your grade.

"Y/N, I have to say, I'm a bit disappointed with your test grade. You are one of my best students." Mr. Turner said with a sigh as he handed over your paper once you stood in front of him.

There was a big fat 'F' written at the top. You had gotten a score of sixteen. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes at the sight. You had never gotten such a terrible grade before.

"I know you have been struggling with this part of our class. So I will make you a deal. I want you to be tutored by Mr. Parker, and in exchange I will let you retake this test. I've already talked this over with him, and he said he had no problems tutoring a peer." Mr. Turner explained as he leaned against his desk.

"With Peter? Please Mr. Turner, anyone but him." you groaned. The last thing you wanted to do was admit to Peter that there was actually something he was better than you at.

"He had the highest score on this test. And you know Peter is very good at science. I want you to succeed. And being tutored by Peter is how you can do that. So do we have a deal, Y/N?" Mr. Turner asked pointedly.

You knew you had little choice if you wanted to retake the test. But of all people, of course it had to be Peter Parker. The one person you wished it wasn't.

"Yes. I guess so, Mr. Turner." you sighed eventually.

"Good. I suggest you talk to Mr. Parker. I'll let you retake the test Friday. That gives you two days to study." He said. He believed it was only fair. Typically he didn't allow retakes of his tests, but he hated to see a normally good student struggle so much.

"Okay. Thank you for giving me another chance." you told him. You were very appreciative. But you just did not want to be tutored by Peter. You knew he would probably hold it over her head for the rest of your high school careers.

You winded her way through the halls as you headed to her math class. You and Peter shared that class as well, except the difference was math was like breathing to you. It was something you didn't even have to think about to do. And that was exactly how you liked things.

It wasn't hard to spot the curly haired boy sitting at his desk. You had the momentary thought to just ignore him and study on your own, but you couldn't risk Peter reporting back and saying you had never studied together and ruin your chances of retaking your test. So you headed over to him, stopping in front of his desk.

"Mr. Turner said you would tutor me so I can retake our last test." you said, getting straight to business.

Peter lifted his head from where he had been laying it on the desk. He nodded as he looked at you with wide eyes. When Mr. Turner had said there was a student who he wanted the boy to tutor, he never in a million years imagined that you were the one who needed help. That, and he didn't think you would ever accept his help due to your feud.

"Uh, y–yeah." He stuttered, clearly surprised to see you. "I didn't think you'd be the one who needed tutoring."

"You gonna back out on me?" you asked. Maybe if he did you could convince Mr. Turner to let you be tutored by someone else.

"What? No! Of course not." Peter said quickly. He hadn't meant it to come off that way. He had only meant it had never crossed his mind that you were the one who needed help. Really his heart jumped at the idea of getting to spend time alone with the girl he had a hopeless crush on. "So... So when do you want to study?"

"Well, I have two days. So after school?" you asked, your books held tightly to your chest.

"Yeah. That works for me. Do you... Do you want to come over to my place?" Peter asked. "To study, I mean."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Sounds fine with me. I'll just text my parents and let them know. What's your address?" you asked, seeming very unbothered and bored.

"Oh... I figured we could just walk to my place together after school. It would be easier because I could show you how to get there and we wouldn't have to worry about you getting lost." Peter said quietly, dropping his gaze down. Did you really dislike him enough to not even want to walk with him after school?

You sighed, making a face at the idea. You could lie and say that you had to run by your place to grab something, but knowing Peter he would just offer to come with you there. And you really needed all the study time you could get, so you found yourself agreeing, albeit reluctantly.

"Fine. I guess I can just walk with you after school. How does five-thirty sound for pickup? My dad gets off work at five, so he should be able to come get me then." you explained quickly, glancing up at the clock that would cut your conversation short.

"Five-thirty sounds fine by me. I think we'll be home alone because my Aunt May has work too." Peter admitted, hoping that wouldn't freak you out or anything.

"Okay." you said before moving to your seat across the room, not seeing how deflated Peter got when the conversation ended so suddenly. You also didn't see Peter's continuous longing stares at you across the room. The boy resembled a puppy who was yearning for the attention of someone, only he only wanted the attention of the one who apparently wanted to be nothing more than his rival. Peter didn't even want to be your rival. He just wanted to be your friend, and he didn't understand why you both couldn't have a friendship, and a rivalry that pushed each other to be better. It had nothing to do with his hopeless crush on you. Nothing at all.

The hours seemed to tick by so slowly for him, and while normally he was focused on school being over so he could go one patrol, today he was just excited to get to spend time with the person of his dreams. Or, more accurately, the person who appeared in his dreams.

Finally that last bell of the day wrung, and not wanting to seem too desperate, Peter waited for you by the door of the classroom. The person in question eventually wandered over to him after saying goodbye to one of your friends. You had plenty of friends. So many that Peter was sure that you couldn't possibly actually be friends with them all. But you seemed to be. No matter who you were talking to, you knew their name in a heartbeat and was always referring back to previous conversations about what was happening in their lives.

"You ready to go, Parker?" you asked him with a sigh.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm ready. Are you?" Peter replied awkwardly. He had been fine all day, but suddenly he was realizing this was really happening.

"Yeah. Otherwise I wouldn't be standing in front of you." you pointed out with an eye roll.

Peter flushed and nodded. "Oh, yeah. Right. Of course." He stuttered, shaking his head at himself as they walked out of the building.

The entire walk was nothing but awkward, neither teenager really making a move to talk to the other. Peter was too socially awkward to easily make conversation with his crush, and you just had no desire to actually attempt to talk to Peter. It was already bad enough that Peter knew you had failed at something.

You walked from the school to the subway station where Peter pulled out his phone and shot a text to someone. Once that ride was over, you finished up your journey by walking to his apartment. You were both silent as Peter fumbled for his keys, save for the occasional quiet curse from the boy as he struggled.

Finally the door was unlocked and you went inside, and you looked around in curiosity. You were getting to see how Peter lived. You couldn't help but be interested.

"So this is where you live, huh?" you asked as you looked around.

"Uh, yeah. We used to live in a bigger place, but then my Uncle Ben died and we couldn't afford it anymore." Peter explained quietly, his mood dropping at the mention of his Uncle Ben.

"Oh. I'm sorry." you said quietly. "So, uh, ready to get started?"

"Yeah. Let me just grab a snack. If you want to go settle in my room or something that's fine. All of my books are in there." He explained. "Unless you aren't comfortable with that. Then we can just sit on the couch." He said quickly.

You raised an eyebrow at how nervous he was before eventually shaking your head and moving towards the hallway, poking your head into the room that you could easily tell was his based on all the Star Wars stuff.

You took a seat on the floor and pulled your backpack off your back and set it in front of you, pulling out your Science supplies. You glanced up at Peter when he finally came into the room.

"I didn't know what you liked. So I got you a Capri-Sun and lots of different chips." Peter explained to you with a smile. His arms were full of different snack items. He wanted you to have the opportunity to pick for yourself.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that. Thanks, I guess." you said, feeling your cheeks get warm. Why was he being so considerate? It was weird. But it made your heart skip a beat.

Peter sat on the floor beside her, dropping the snacks everywhere. He pulled out his phone, frowning and huffing at it.

"What's wrong?" you decided to ask.

"Nothing. It's just—" he sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I do this Stark Internship thing. And recently Mr. Stark hasn't needed my help. Which really sucks because I want to do more, you know? And I can't do that because no one ever replies to my texts so I never know what's going on until it is too late. And then I get behind on stuff and am not where I need to be when I need to be there. And it's really annoying because it wouldn't be hard to keep me updated. And it just really sucks because I want to do more and no one ever lets me, and I jus—"

Peter was cut off suddenly when you surged forward and pressed your lips to his. It was a short kiss, nothing more than a peck, but it was clear it had shocked both of you.

"Did you just kiss me?" Peter asked, his cheeks red and his eyes wide as he looked at her.

If he was surprised, you were absolutely floored by her actions. Her eyes were wide and you was frozen a bit away from him, resembling a deer in headlights.

"I–I think so." you said quietly after a large lapse of silence.

"Why?"

"I don't know." you replied, completely stumped on a good answer.

Peter looked at you strangely as you sat there on the floor, just staring at each other, both trying to comprehend what had just occurred. Peter had never expected for anyone to kiss him, and you had never expected to kiss Peter. But it had happened, and now you had to figure out what to do about it.

"That... That was a really nice way of shutting me up." Peter said, sure his entire face resembled a tomato. But it was comforting to see that you were flustered in your own way.

"Sorry. I don't know why I did that. I–I can leave if you want me to." you said quietly, finally dropping your gaze to the ground. You were mentally scolding yourself, worried you had just ruined your chances of getting to retake that test Friday.

"No!" Peter said quickly, wincing at how loud he was. "No, uh, do you, do you maybe wanna do it again?"

He was stumbling over his words as he looked at you, and Peter was prepared for your rejection. He knew it was a shot in the dark, but he hoped maybe you liked the first one.

"S–Sure." you stuttered. "I think I'd like that."

[lannisterdaddyissues]

The Last Kingdom High School AU - Chapter One

Hey y’all,,, so I finally decided to make this a thing after like 100 years! Anyone remember this post? It’s a thing now!! All my friends in the discord finally convinced me to share my writings with the world so here it is! This is going to be a multi-chapter fic, I will update it during the summer but I have a job so idk if updates will be regular. Anyway here is chapter one aaah!!

Chapter One

TLK High School AU

Word Count: 4.1k

“Oi! Arseling! Get your sorry arse to the principal’s office, now!” Leofric shouted as he slammed the gymnasium’s phone back onto its receiver. Uhtred’s classmates all turned to stare at him with round eyes, like a bunch of identical creepy owls. Uhtred hated those looks. He’d been getting them a lot in the past two years.

“Thank you for coming to see me, Uhtred,” the principal Odda greeted him, smoothing some papers out on his desk as Uhtred shuffled into his office. A steaming hot coffee mug sat to the side, untouched, and a bagel with a single bite mark in it lay on a napkin near the corner of his desk. “I wanted to talk to you about your behavior lately.” Uhtred blinked slowly but said nothing, leaving the ball in Odda’s court. Odda sighed. “You’ve been starting fights a lot lately in the past few months...the most recent one, three days ago, I believe, you sent my son home with a bloody nose and a black eye.”

“He called me names,” Uhtred said tonelessly, “And he’s an arsehole.” Odda grimaced and sucked air through his teeth. “See, Uhtred, that’s just more of what I’m talking about. You cannot just go around speaking like that to adults. You need to respect your elders. Otherwise, you’ll just keep getting in trouble and getting sent to detention. You know these are put on your permanent record.”

“...Fine.” Odda nodded, as though satisfied, and shuffled his papers. The reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose drooped a little and he pushed them back up towards his face.

“I also wanted to talk about your grades this semester.”

“What about them?” Uhtred stated more than inquired, hair falling over his shoulder as he tilted his head to the side. The old man never said anything of interest to him, just that he needed to stay on track if he wanted to be successful in life and that he had to watch his words in his essays. So what. He scanned the rest of the principal’s office nonchalantly, searching for an item to fixate on so he didn’t have to meet Odda’s eyes.

“They were just fine in your freshman year, perfectly average and acceptable for you to graduate, but halfway through your sophomore year they took a turn for the worse. Last year you failed both your English class and your maths class, barely passing your science class with a C-minus.”

“And what about it?” Uhtred repeated, twiddling his thumbs. His eyes alighted upon the globe in the back of the room on top of Odda’s filing cabinet and he exhaled deeply, wondering if he could get it to spin with his breath alone all the way from across the room. It didn’t move and he felt his mood blacken a bit more for no reason whatsoever.

“See here, Uhtred,” Odda said, leaning forward and turning the paper so he could see it, “you’ve got this red letter here. What letter is this?” Uhtred rolled his eyes.

“An F, sir,” he said, turning the honorific into more of a mocking title.

“Yes, I see, and do you know what happens when you fail your core classes, Uhtred?” There was a pointed gleam in Odda’s eye.

“What, sir?”

“It means you fail. You fail the entire year. And when you fail the entire year, do you know what that means, hmm? Let me tell you. You have to retake all of these classes.” Uhtred shot out of his chair, outraged. “I most certainly do not!” he shouted. “I’m not taking these bullshit courses again! I could pass these in my sleep, this is fucked up!”

“Life isn’t always fair, Uhtred,” Odda gave Uhtred another pointed look for his language and Uhtred sat down again, chastised. He sighed. “I know you‘ve had a tough time these past couple years.” Uhtred scoffed and whipped his head to the side.

That was a bit of an understatement, he thought. Uhtred had never known his birth parents. All he had ever known was his adoptive brother Ragnar’s father, who was also named Ragnar. He had grown up alongside Ragnar, Ragnar’s sister Thyra, and Brida, his best friend, and together the four of them were inseparable. Two years ago, Ragnar’s father had died in an accident, leaving Uhtred and his adoptive family to Kjartan, Ragnar’s uncle. Kjartan was neglectful and ignorant; he mostly left them to their own devices since he couldn’t be brought to care enough about them to hurt them. His son Sven was an abusive arseole whenever he visited, though.

“I don’t want your pity. It’s fine.”

“Since I know there are extenuating circumstances involved, I’ll give you an ultimatum,” Odda said. “I’ve asked a boy in your class to tutor you in all four of your core classes. He’s agreed to do it - don’t give me that look - in exchange for community service hours. You don’t have to pay him a dime.” The chair Uhtred was sitting in squeaked as he uncrossed his legs and recrossed them.

“And who am I tutoring with, sir?” Uhtred mocked, thinking his day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“His name is Alfred Rex, I believe he’s in your class-”

Ohhhhhhhh, fuck that.

“No!” Uhtred yelled, “I am not working with that pain in my arse!” Odda gave him a pointed look over his reading glasses.

“I believe he’s in your class, and you should be grateful that he’s agreed to do this for so little. He’s the brightest student in the school. Surely you won’t be able to fail any of your classes with his help.” Taking a sip of his coffee, Odda leaned back in his chair, looking satisfied. Uhtred was glad one of them was.

“You must have missed the part where I said he was a pain in my arse,” Uhtred seethed, fingers itching to strangle the principal - and maybe a particular student - to death, “We absolutely hate each other! This will be a fucking disaster! He doesn’t want to teach me shit, he just wants to lord over me like he always has!”

“Now I am just disappointed in you. Alfred wants to help, truly he does! And he’s all you’ve got right now, so you’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it, won’t you?”

“How much time do I have to spend with him anyways?” he spat. Odda met his eyes over his reading glasses and pursed his lips.

“You’ll be tutoring with him four days a week. One day for language arts, one day for maths, one day for science, and one day for history. At the end of the week he’ll give you a report of your progress. Really, you should count yourself lucky that he’s taking so much time out of his busy schedule to tutor you.”

I have to spend four days out of every week with him?!

“That’s not going to work, no way, I can’t spend four days out of every week with him. Give me anybody else and I swear to whatever god you worship that I’ll do it. Not him.”

“Uhtred, I already told you,” Odda’s voice grew firm, “You can take it or leave it. You’re not getting tutoring from anyone but Alfred. This is the last straw.”

“Whatever,” Uhtred hissed, “I’m leaving, and I’m not getting any tutoring if it’s from him! Alfred can screw his perfect self as many times as he likes, see where that gets him.”

“Uhtred! Wait!” Odda called after him. Shutting the door to Odda’s office, Uhtred pulled a cigarette out of his backpack and lit it, ignoring the multiple shouts of his name that followed the trail of smoke he left down the hall.

Uhtred slammed the door to his car shut, seething as he aggressively turned the ignition key and cranked the volume on the radio up high. He plugged his phone into the charger cord and hit call on the pre-existing groupchat he had with his best friends, Finan Agil, Sihtric Elflaedsson - his name was actually Kjartanson, but he legally changed it a few years ago when he moved in with his mom - and Osferth Heahengel. “Hey,” Uhtred said as the line clicked and they all greeted him. Gym class with Coach Leofric had just ended, so they were still in the locker room changing their clothes.

“The hell was that all about earlier?” Finan asked on the other side of the line. “You get sent to the office again? What’d he tell you?” The others voiced similar questions.

“You want to know what he told me? I’m fucking failing my classes. I have to get a tutor. I have to see him four times a week. That’s bullshit!” Uhtred ranted. “I’m going to have to repeat a year if I can’t bring my grades up. This is by far the worst fucking shit that has happened to me, ever.” Feeling his temper worsen, Uhtred made a right turn far more violently than he normally did and grunted as the tires squealed.

“What the hell?!” Sihtric yelled on the other end of the line. “You have to get tutoring?! That sucks!” Uhtred nodded his agreement even though they couldn’t see him.

“Do you know who your tutor is?” asked Osferth. “Maybe you won’t actually mind them. I mean if they said yes, they can’t be that bad, can they?” Uhtred gave a mocking laugh.

“Oh, dear Osferth, why don’t you just go on and ask me who it is?” The line went silent for a moment as all the friends considered how bad the news was going to be, and then Osferth spoke again.

“Uh...who is it?”

“Oh, only Alfred fucking Rex, the hugest prick in our grade.” 

“You’re fucking kidding me!” “You have to tutor with Alfred?!” “But you two hate each other’s guts!” They all exclaimed simultaneously.

That fucking bastard, Uhtred thought, I know he’s just doing this to get one over me. He’s always bossing me around and acting like he owns the entire school. I fucking hate pricks like him.

“That’s just the worst,” Sihtric said sympathetically. The sound of a door opening on the other side of the line roused Uhtred from his bitter thoughts. They must have finished changing and were now heading to their next classes.

“I know, but Odda doesn’t even care,” Uhtred spat, “He says this is all I get! I can’t believe his audacity! You and I both know that Alfred wants to boss me around and that’s that!”

“I don’t know, Uhtred, maybe give him a chance,” Finan said doubtfully, “At least you’ve got a tutor, and Alfred’s the smartest kid in the school. You’ve got an advantage here.”

“Well, whatever, I’m home now so I’ll talk to you guys later,” Uhtred said, pulling the phone away from his ear.

“Wait, you went home?!” Osferth exclaimed. 

“Uhtred, you’re going to get caught. That’ll just be another detention for you. Maybe you should come back.” Uhtred turned the key in his car’s ignition and slid it into his pocket, ignoring Finan’s words.

“Right now, I couldn’t care less about detentions,” Uhtred said. “See you guys later.” Finan protested with a “wait, you bastard—!!”, but Sihtric and Osferth bid him goodbye and he hit the end call button with little remorse before shutting his car door and making his way to the front door.

“I’m home,” Uhtred called out as he shut the door behind him. A chorus of ‘hey’s greeted him and Uhtred left his bag on a chair before walking into the living room. Ragnar - Uhtred’s adoptive older brother - and his childhood-friend-turned-girlfriend Brida were cuddling together on the couch. Some movie Uhtred didn’t recognize was paused on the screen. “Uhtred, what are you doing home so early?” Ragnar frowned at him as he sat up and pushed the blanket off his legs. Uhtred exhaled deeply and plopped on the couch like a deadweight, causing Brida to shove him with her foot.

“Didn’t feel like staying at school,” he muttered. “Left after gym class.” Brida sat up at that and she exchanged a glance with Ragnar, looking concerned.

“Hey, well,” Ragnar began, “Speaking of school, I have something I need to talk to you about.” Uhtred frowned.

Gee, how could this day possibly get any worse? I can’t wait.

“The principal called us a couple days ago and told us that...you’re failing this year, Uhtred,” Ragnar said seriously. Brida nodded alongside him.

“He said you’re going to have to repeat a year if you can’t hack it,” she added. “So Ragnar talked to him and the principal arranged for you to get tutoring with—“

“—With Alfred,” Uhtred interrupted, balling his fists, “Yeah, I already fucking heard.” Ragnar’s eyes widened.

“Oh, fuck,” he said.

“Yeah, oh fuck! I can’t believe you! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could have said no sooner!” Ragnar shrugged and laid back against the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. “I forgot,” he said honestly, smirking.

“Are you kidding me?! You know how much I hate Alfred! Why are you laughing at this?!”

“I’m not,” he said, “Don’t know what you mean.”

“Ragnar, please, tell me there is another option besides getting tutoring from Alfred of all people,” Uhtred begged.

“Sorry, Uhtred, but there’s no negotiation on this one. You need to get out of this house and away from Kjartan. You can’t do that if you fail your last year of high school. You need to go to college and, well, your principal gave you a stellar opportunity. Besides, you guys have never really spent any time together outside of class. Maybe you could find some common ground and we can finally be free of your constant complaining.” Uhtred dug his nails into his palms.

“How,” he growled, “Could this possibly be a good thing? Stop acting like my dad, Ragnar, you’re only a year older than me. I thought you were on my side about him.”

“Is that what this is about, Uhtred? That you don’t need help?” Ragnar rounded his eyes pleadingly. “Come on, Uhtred, do it for your future. Not because I think you’re going to be some great brilliant fucking Einstein, but you need to get out of here. Don’t be like this. You’re doing it whether you like it or not. I will call Alfred and have him come to our house for tutoring. You can do this on your terms or on ours.” Uhtred growled and reached for his phone, standing up from the couch to head upstairs.

“Give him a chance,” Ragnar said again. “One chance.”

“Fine,” he hissed, “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m going to hate every fucking minute of this and you’re going to feel extremely guilty whenever you think about it!”

“Where do you think you’re going?! Your first session is at three,” Ragnar called after him. Uhtred just yelled in response and slammed his door shut, the little bells on his door handle jingling.

As he lay on his bed in his room, the door locked, Uhtred took the time to reflect about the day’s events so far.

Alfred Rex...he’s a total fucking prick.

Uhtred had met Alfred in his freshman year of high school. Alfred had gone to a different elementary and middle school than he had, but Winchester High was the only high school in the area. They’d immediately gotten off on the wrong foot and had been bitter enemies ever since. Uhtred thought Alfred was an officious, sickly, annoying pain in his arse and Alfred thought he was a stupid child that needed to be told what to do. Hate at first sight, truly.

Uhtred sighed. His sister Aethelflaed was so much nicer. She was a freshman, so he’d only met her this year, but he had no idea how the two of them were related. Aethelflaed was a social butterfly and tried to include everyone in everything she did, while Alfred was just a complete arseole. Dammit, why was he stuck with him?!

Growling, Uhtred threw his phone at the wall.

3:02 pm. He was past the point of no return. Pushing open the library doors reluctantly, Uhtred poked his head in, scanning the area. A couple of students he recognized were perusing the library’s faculties. Aldhelm Sawyer - an extremely tall brunet who had a bag of wet dicks for a personality - lounged on one of the couches with a science textbook propped on his lap, one leg crossed over the other. A pretty ginger girl whose name he thought was Eadith sat at a table by one of the windows across from a guy with dark hair; Eardwulf was his name, if Uhtred remembered correctly. Aethelflaed, Alfred’s younger sister, was using one of the computers. When he walked in, she turned around and smiled at him and he felt his heart flutter a bit. Something about her had that effect on people. On the other side of the room in the tutoring section, Odda - the principal’s little shit of a son - was giving a freshman tutoring session at one of the whiteboards. Alfred was nowhere in sight so Uhtred headed towards one of the open tables and plopped into a chair, checking his phone.

“You shouldn’t be on your phone if you’re here to learn,” a voice behind him said. Uhtred whipped around, hissing.

“What do you want,” he bit out, before thinking better of it when he recognized the owner of the voice as his tutor, Alfred. Alfred was...how did Uhtred describe him? He was tiny and slender, shorter than Uhtred by about half a foot. The first time they met, Uhtred mistook him for a twelve-year-old, even though they’d both been fourteen. His wispy brown hair fell just below his ears and he had a pair of bright blue eyes that were so intense they always made Uhtred feel uncomfortable, framed by a pair of silver wire lens glasses. In essence, he looked like a nerd, which was another reason why Uhtred hated him. Nerds were annoying.

Uhtred scoffed and pocketed his phone, leering up at Alfred balefully. “Whatever you say, Lord. I’m here for your blessings and guidance, so let’s get this started, shall we?” Alfred sat down and the two of them unpacked their belongings in silence.

“We’re going over English today, as per Odda’s suggestion, so why don’t you show me where you’re at?” Alfred asked, putting his chin in his palm.

“Yeah, go on, teach me stuff...English. I bet you’re fucking great at it.” Uhtred crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in his chair until the front legs were off the ground, hoping to provoke a reaction. He was disappointed; Alfred merely ignored his blatantly disrespectful behavior, instead ducking his head to flip through his English textbook.

“Feel free to disrespect me,” he murmured, “But rest assured that Principal Odda will hear about it, and my reports are extremely thorough. I don’t care what you say to me, but just know that it will reflect badly on you.”

Oh my gods, I fucking hate this guy so much!

“Yes, my Lord, I live only to serve you,” Uhtred snarked, clenching and unclenching his fists under the table. Leaning over, Uhtred pulled his folder out of his backpack and slid a paper out. “We’re reading Of Mice And Men. You might think that’s a bit below your skill set, but here you are.” Alfred snatched the paper from his hand, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t be facetious, Uhtred. Just shut up and let me read this. That’s what I’m here for, as you said.” Never having been one to follow orders, Uhtred opened his mouth to snark again, but Alfred snapped his fingers to grab his attention and glared at him.

“I said shut up. I’m reading,” he repeated, his eyes moving back and forth like the spool of a typewriter. After a couple of minutes, he set the paper flat on the table and bit his lip, looking a bit uncertain of what to do.

“Well, Lord? Does it meet your lofty expectations?” 

“Can you not?” Alfred asked sharply, “And no, I’m sorry to say, it does not. What were you even trying to write? The subject of your analysis seems to jump to and fro. And while you are summarizing the story in your analysis, that’s all you’re doing. Summarizing. You’re not explaining why it’s important or what it means. Here, let me show you mine…”

“‘Bye, nerd,” Uhtred sneered, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Alfred stood a bit more slowly, organizing all of his supplies into a neat pile before picking them all up and sliding them into his bookbag. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Alfred inquired, not appearing bothered by the epithet apart from his clenched jaw. Good. “Make sure you incorporate what I told you today into your essay. I don’t want you to get a poor grade. And do keep in mind that I am reporting all of this to Principal Odda.”

Sure, whatever, Assfred! Feel free to slit your throat when you get home today! “...Yeah,” Uhtred said, before standing up and leaving without a word of thanks. Aethelflaed waved at him on his way out and he grinned back at her as he opened the doors.

“Welcome home, Uhtred,” Thyra greeted Uhtred as he stomped inside. The smell of spaghetti assaulted his senses and all of a sudden he felt much calmer than he had been a moment ago. “How was your first tutoring session?”

“Yeah, how was it?” Ragnar called from the living room, where he and Brida were cuddling yet again. The same movie as yesterday was paused on the TV and Uhtred had a feeling they hadn’t actually watched any of it and were just using it as an excuse to cuddle. A bowl of popcorn soaked in butter lay on Brida’s lap and the table was littered with empty beer cans, another in Ragnar’s hand.

“It fucking sucked. Alfred is even more of a bastard than I remember. Feel free to regret your decision completely,” Uhtred sniffed. Ragnar grimaced sympathetically.

“Is he seriously that bad?” he asked, snorting. “All I know about him is from your complaining.”

“He’s a fucking midget, but he tries to talk to me like he’s better than me! I fucking hate that, you know I do!” Uhtred threw his hands up. “He treats me like a stupid child and what’s more, he’s telling Odda everything that happens! Like some kind of probation officer! ‘Don’t disrespect me, Uhtred,’ ‘don’t use your phone when you’re supposed to be learning, Uhtred,’ ‘don’t breathe oxygen, Uhtred!’ He’s so annoying!”

“Sounds like a cunt,” Brida said.

“He is!!”

“Well, I’m sorry Uhtred, but if you want to pass your classes, your best bet is tutoring with him. You’re going to have to suck it up. Maybe you two just got off on the wrong foot,” he suggested, playing peacemaker.

“Not true,” Uhtred declared, “He just sucks at being a person.” He kicked Brida’s feet off the table so he could prop his own up and stole a popcorn kernel from her bowl. She flipped him off. “I’m just going to try to pass my classes this year and as soon as I do I’ll be totally done with him forever. Damn, that’ll be a good time.” Ragnar lifted his beer can in a toast.

“To the cunt who’s helping you pass your classes,” he said, and they echoed his toast as he downed his beer can and tossed it on the table.

“Ragnar, throw that empty beer can in the trash right now, you pig!” Thyra shouted from the kitchen. Ragnar shrugged and lazily kicked it onto the floor. “Ragnar!!” Giving Uhtred a ‘what-can-you-do’ expression, he stood up from the couch with a loud, obnoxious groan, plucking the beer can from the floor before lumbering to the kitchen.

“Hey, is dinner ready yet—”

“No! And stop asking, you animal, it’ll be ready when I say it is.”

“Geez, old woman, I was only asking, don’t hit me!”

Uhtred sat back against the couch and lifted the remote, clicking it until the TV changed to an acceptable channel. As the TV faded into background noise, he lifted his head to the ceiling and thought about what had happened that day.

Well, overall today sucked. I’m failing my classes and I’m getting tutored by Alfred, who’s a privileged arseole and also a complete tool. This whole year is going to be absolute bullshit with him around.

One chance, my arse. This year can’t end soon enough.

Art posts: @lauwrite1225‘s sketches of the high school!Coccham squad, @seaberrycloudberry‘s sketches of high school!Uhtred and Alfred, and @seaberrycloudberry‘s sketches of the characters in high school + sketches of Alfred, Aethelflaed, and Edward!!! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH. THEY’RE PERFECT. Tagging @bellamehblake, @lonelyislanddaydreamer, @caleb-16charisma-widogast, @ucancallmechlo, @cocchamscrew, @myenglandmylove, @nightskyfangirl, @morganology, @tsukkinami @pokeasleepingsmaug here it is you guys!! I finally posted something!!!

[dear-selena]

Sketchbook (Peter Parker x Stark!Reader): Chapter 1

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader (Female) 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Summary: (Y/N) never understood science based subjects, despite putting all her efforts into studying them. Kids at school bullied her, her father, Tony Stark, was disappointed in her, and the Avengers looked the other way. Peter Parker, her best friend and secret crush for almost two years, was always there supporting you when you needed someone. However, since he became an Avenger and your dad’s ‘favorite kid’, you don’t know how much longer he’ll be around for you. 

You find yourself struggling to exist with everything working against you, and instead of asking others for help, you turn to your sketchbook. 

Warnings: angst, bullying, mentions of depression / suicide 

A/N: Hey everyone! This is a story idea I’ve had for a while, and I have to say this is the most intense writing I’ve ever done. Because of how massive I’m making the character development, and the fact that I’m going back to college in two days, my updates for this story will not be quick. I can guarantee that I will not drop this story, as I have already written half the chapters. All I’m asking from you, if you’d like to follow this story, is to be patient with me as I update. I was planning on creating a mood board and everything, so I really do have confidence I will complete this story XD. 

With that said, this story is going to have heavy themes of depression and suicide, especially in future chapters. If this is triggering to you in anyway, please feel free to skip this story. I will be tagging the triggers, and will warn of any serious themes throughout this story. If there is anything else I can do to be aware of safety for my readers, please reach out! 

Hope everyone is well! Enjoy the first chapter of Sketchbook! 

Chapter 1: Flashes and Shades

Words: 1962

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Shaking your leg under the desk, you anxiously wait for your chemistry midterm to return to you. 

As your teacher, Mrs. Smith, slowly passes exam books back to each student, you couldn’t help but pray for a good grade. ‘Please, at least a B this time… at least a B’ repeats in your head over and over. You studied your butt off the past two weeks for this exam, yet nothing would click in your brain. For some reason, balancing equations, differentiating the elements on the periodic table, and identifying every single scientific law known to man never came easy to you. 

You hope the extra studying you did would finally pay off. 

Mrs. Smith eventually came up to you and hands your exam back to you face down. Not being able to hold in your anxiety, you flip the packet over immediately, only to be met with disappointment and a wish that you never got your exam back at all. 

Written and circled in a bright red marker, a D+ mockingly spat at you. 

Eyes going wide and heartbeat accelerating, you quickly hide your exam, making sure none of your classmates saw your poor grade. You look around at your classmates to see them showing off their grades to one another, most of them with A’s or B+’s. Before you could let the significance of your peers get to your head, the bell rang. You quickly shove your failure into your backpack, and make your way to your next class, English. 

English wasn’t a hard subject for you. In fact, you enjoy the readings that were assigned and always participate in discussions. However, that didn’t really matter at Midtown School of Science and Technology, one of the top college prep schools in New York. Subjects like physics, biology, and calculus truly matter to faculty and students. 

Too bad you practically failed those classes. At least in English you could breathe easy for 90 minutes. 

As you make your way to your next class, you feel eyes following your every move. When you would look up however, students quickly look down, as if they weren’t watching. You knew they were. You’re (Y/N) Stark for God’s sake, daughter of Tony Stark, certified genius and team leader of the Avengers. Even though you were a Stark, you were a certified idiot, and everyone at Midtown knew that. 

You absolutely hate it. 

Negative thoughts start to come into your head, ones you wish you could push away. You mostly thought about your existence, how it would be for everyone if you simply weren’t there. Before your thoughts could elaborate and get more intense, your phone vibrates in your pocket and you see that Peter Parker, your best friend for the past two years, has texted you. 

From: Peter

I hope you did well on your chem midterm! I can’t wait to see you at lunch :)

You smile at your phone, practically beaming at Peter’s kind words. Peter always knew how to cheer you up and snap you out of your bad thoughts. You have no idea how he does it, but nevertheless, you love that about him. You’ve loved Peter for a long time, ever since your father took him in as his successor. But you knew he was out of your league. One day though, you hope you can share your feelings with him. 

Before you could respond to your best friend, a booming voice calls out to you. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Miss Stark herself.” You look up to see none other than Flash Thompson approaching you with a cocky grin, ultimately souring your mood. Flash likes to pick on Peter with dumb nicknames, but with you, he’s a bit more relentless. “How’d that chem test go?” 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Why does it matter to you?” 

“I’m just looking out for you sweetheart,” Flash leans in close to your ear, grabbing your shoulders firmly. “You know, so you don’t flunk chemistry again.” 

Quickly pulling away from Flash, you try to hide your face so he can’t see the tears starting to burn in your eyes. He’s right. You took chemistry last year with Flash, Peter, and many other students in your grade. Peter would try to help you in class, and that helped a lot. However you didn’t quite make a passing grade, and when you saw how disappointed your dad was, you knew you had to retake the class and get a better grade. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Flash coos in a mocking tone. “You don’t have to be ashamed around me. A pretty girl like you can always cry on my shoulder.” If you weren’t in school, and if you weren’t your father’s daughter, you’d have spat at him. 

“I have to get to class.” You quickly say, trying to walk away. However, Flash never made it easy. 

“You don’t have to run from me (Y/N),” Flash starts, and you reluctantly turn around. “So what that you aren’t at all smart? At least you can still go here with all the money your daddy’s paying for you to stay in. That’s some lucky wealth you have at your fingertips.” 

Before Flash continues, you turn and quickly walk to the nearest bathroom, tears already falling from your (E/C) eyes. You hate it when people brought your father’s name and wealth into the picture. Logically, someone that fails classes at Midtown, especially a science one, wouldn’t have a GPA high enough to stay enrolled. But despite your poor grades that never seemed to improve, you still roam the halls of Midtown. You knew your father has something to do with it, but you’re too ashamed of yourself to talk to him about those logistics. 

As you find your way into the bathroom and lock yourself into a stall, you let your frustrations come out, silently sobbing. Things Flash would say directly to you was ultimately what your peers would say behind your back. Almost everyone at school knew you were the dumbest kid there, and they made no efforts to hide their thoughts. No matter how hard you studied or how well you took notes in class, your efforts were never enough. 

It made you struggle to find a reason to stay around. 

------------- 

Lunch rolls around quickly, and after humiliatingly walking into English late, you want nothing more than to see Peter. You knew Peter always supported you, but you didn’t know how much longer he’d be there for you. Sure, you love Peter, and he likes you as a friend (at least you hope he does). But he’s been getting all your father’s attention for quite some time now, practically taking the spot on the Avengers team you’ve yearned to have for so long. You never know what your father says about you to Peter, and you really don’t know if he thinks you’re worth it anymore. 

You’d rather not think about that right now. 

You were also close to Ned and MJ, but you found yourself super cautious around them. They never brought up how you were a Stark or practically failing school, but you never knew what they truly thought of you, and that was scary. 

At lunch, Peter saw you gloomily walk into the cafeteria and immediately knew it meant bad news from your exam. Instead of asking you about it however, Peter compliments your outfit, a gesture that makes you blush. 

Peter and Ned were talking about their AP Physics assignment, you longingly listening into their conversation, when MJ comes over and sits next to you. 

“Hey (Y/N), small question.” MJ proceeds to take out her sketchbook and open it up. “I feel like something is off in this drawing but I can’t figure it out. Can you help me?” 

She slides the drawing over to you, and you start to admire her work. It looks like she started a portrait of someone, and you have to say it looked really good! The line work was already traced with pen and she started coloring the character in black and white. However, you did notice what was off about her work. 

“Oh! You didn’t highlight their face all the way.” You say simply. She raises her eyebrows curiously, but hands you her pencil so you can explain further. “You got the dark tones on their face just right, but there’s not really any white tones to balance it.” You start to lightly erase some of the pencil work. “I like to leave white sports around the nose and cheeks like this to give the face more depth.” You hand the pencil and sketchbook back to MJ. “You try it.” 

MJ takes the pencil back and starts erasing lightly, starting to see what you mean. “Oh! Thanks (Y/N). I tend to forget about that stuff.” 

“It’s all good. It comes with practice.” You say, going into your backpack and taking your own sketchbook out. Your sketchbook was practically a safe haven, filled with doodles, designs, and poems from over the years. Whenever you find yourself struggling with negative thoughts or even wishing you were gone, you turn to the moleskin covered book and just let your mind wander. Over time, the simple doodles and haikus turned into intricate drawings and full on hand-written stories. 

Opening your sketchbook up, you turn to one of your early doodles, a drawing of your father in his signature Iron-Man suit. “I drew this of my dad a few years ago, and you can tell I didn’t know what I was doing.” You laugh at yourself. 

MJ’s eyebrows furrow. “What are you talking about? This looks amazing!” You look back at the drawing in confusion. MJ just rolls her eyes. “I mean, it’s not shaded, but you got some really good detail on your father’s suit. It kind of looks like you can even see wiring in it.” 

Sending MJ a small smile, you can feel your cheeks turning red. “Thanks… I just think my more recent drawings are a little easier on the eyes.” With that, you turn to some drawings you worked on last week, ones you did after a typical scolding from your father about your grades. These drawings were more intricate, small shapes dancing across the pages in a contemporary pattern. 

MJ’s eyes pop out of her skull. “Whoa… Can I just look through these for a bit?” 

You nod, letting her know of some pages to avoid. You told her they were crummy sketches, but in reality, those pages were filled with words that… might cause some serious concern. 

As MJ intently looks through your most prized possession. You feel eyes on you again. At first you thought your classmates were pitifully staring at you again, but to your surprise, you see Peter looking at you, biting his lip in an attempt to hide a smirk. 

“What?” You ask innocently, unsure of why Peter would be staring at you that way. Was he trying not to laugh at you…?

Peter blinks, realizing he’s been caught. “Oh, n-nothing.” He sends you a sheepish smile. 

You simply smile back at the boy, a blush once again creeping onto your cheeks. Before he could see it though, MJ starts to ask you some questions about the drawings in your sketchbook. In moments like this, you were thankful that something distracted you from your crush. After all, you were nowhere in his league. He’s a superhero with crazy abilities, one of the smartest kids in school, and your father’s most cherished mentee. 

All you are is a dumb girl with a sketchbook.

------------

-Peter Parker Tag List-

@sweetcoffeeblandtea // @house-arya // @jovialpeanut

-Permanent Tag List-  

@mindset-jupiter // @romance-geek // @imcharishope // @fakindob // @cutiekoa // @wowursofunny

[thirdmagic]

i was going through some files and stuff and found a profile and my room lines for an older david alt i wrote up around two years ago, and i read it over and decided that i still like it so i’m going to dump this here and run away

My Room Lines

1 There is only one, in this world or any other, who I truly serve. Oh, but don't take this to mean you don't have my full cooperation. Rather, it would be more suitable for you to treat me as I were a general in your army, or a military advisor, more than a Servant. I would be more useful to you this way, rather than a single individual solider.'

2 For you, the leader of your army, to be staying in your room, bored, while your troops go off to work and make war... Master, such situations never lead to anything good, you know? It's a terrible waste of valuable time. Come, now, let's be off. There is a great deal to be done.

3 This is quite the role reversal for me, actually. You're like me in life; the head of a great and powerful army, and me, a soldier in the midst of the battlefield that you survey. It seems I've taken the role of your Joab, in fact... perhaps in the end I'm really meant to serve much more than to lead.

4 I will serve you, of course, to the best of my abilities. But I have no intent to stay silent, or go along with it blindly, if you act incorrectly. ... Of course, I do not expect you to act flawlessly at all times, either-- in your position, one often has to make difficult choices. Just keep it in mind.

5 (Archer David) Yes, yes, I know that other me is here. Please, don't remind me. Honestly... what's he doing, that stupid old man? Running around in the body of our younger self... does he miss our youth so much he's trying to recreate it? Delusional old pervert, that's what he is... don't trust him, Master. That he is a useless, frivolous slacker makes him seem harmless, but he's much worse! He's cunning and duplicitous and-- why are you laughing?

6 (Sheba) Ah, this woman-- I know of her. As a fellow monarch like her, and her rival, I respect her. As Solomon's father, I am wary of her, and hope she did not lead his heart astray. There will be some time before I can accept her into the family. Though, that said, if this is any indication of his taste in women-- well, now! Not bad at all.

7 (Avicebron) A great poet and philosopher, and a wise man. But one whose soul was deeply troubled, and who struggles with actions that have soiled his hands. But I won't disrespect him with my pity. All I can say is that I understand. True wisdom, after all, brings the heart a great deal of trouble.

(Bonus: I wrote this profile way before Atlantis/Olympus happened so I guess these don’t really work now but) 

8 (Solomon) ...  Master. For both our sakes. Please, do not urge me any more to talk to the boy. I realize you mean well, but nothing good will come of it. More than for myself, I've no doubt he'd rather I keep my distance. There is no room for me to interfere in his new life. -- And that's all I have to say on this topic.

9 (Goetia) So this is the... ah, creature? Who possessed my son's body and went around doing all sorts of undignified things in it to ruin his reputation... Hm? Why am I not angry over the attempted incineration of humanity? Well, I'm a little cross over that, but as long as he understands and takes responsibility for these actions, it's fine. It's not for me to judge him. But the other thing is just disrespectful and irresponsible! To mar Solomon's good name with actions he didn't even commit!

Likes Good food, good drink, and a warm, comfortable bed. Even though I am a spirit now who has no need of them, it's such simple, physical needs that are all I need to be satisfied. ... Oh, what other physical needs I enjoy? Haha! Now, that's something I'll tell you about when you're older.

Dislikes There once was a certain man who served me. A skilled and strong warrior whose resourcefulness and cunning I relied upon, and he, giving in to his bloodlust and self-interest, had betrayed me. You do not need to know the details, but I cannot and will never forgive him, and so, swear you one thing: that I will never act towards you as he did towards me.

Holy Grail I have no single wish, but I do have things I desire. None of these are things I would ever ask of the Grail, however. Many of these things are... just daydreams, and the rest are meaningless if I don't achieve them on my own.

Event I've heard that you've landed upon a rare opportunity; don't waste it. We must go see to it at once, Master.

Summon Ruler-Class Servant, David. I have answered your summons. Now, then, we have no time to waste. You have an important task ahead of you, and my intent is to ensure it comes to completion.

Bond

1 Hm. You're a fair bit more young than what I'd expected of the last remaining Master tasked with the world's salvation... I mean, in this era, it's unusual for people your age to take upon such heavily responsibilities, isn't it? Yes, you clearly require all the assistance I can provide.

2 You know, even if I was a king in life, you needn't treat me now as if that were still the case. After all, I have no country to rule over. Before I am a king and before I am a heroic spirit, I am a mere instrument of the Lord's will. And now, I fulfill my duty in this world by aiding in your cause.

3 You're like me, aren't you, Master? A young person, perfectly average, perfectly humble, thrust into the hands of destiny and put into an overwhelming role of massive responsibility. I said you're young, but truth is... I misjudged you. Whatever child you were once is gone. When I look at you, I see the eyes of a soldier, one worthy of being called a true warrior. How do you feel about it, I wonder? Are you angry? Sad? Frustrated? Does it pain you? I see you keep fighting, but is it with reluctance, or do you humbly accept that responsibility and put personal feelings aside, whatever they may be?

4 I apologize for my callous remarks earlier, Master. Oh, don't misunderstand me. I meant what I said. But I should not have been so callous and spoken so freely, and-- well, maybe I was really thinking of myself more than you. But what I said of you as a soldier and a warrior was the truth. You should take pride in your journey and all you've done to this point. As a Master, you have nothing but my respect and loyalty.

5 Master, do you know what makes a Ruler, in this system? Not simply a saint. An impartial, just person who can cast true judgment and perform their duty with no personal desires to get in the way. Don't you find it strange? To cast in this role a hedonistic king such as I, I who have fallen to my personal desires at the expense of my duty? And yet the generations after me, the world itself, all depict me as a righteous and pure man, an impartial judge. That is the man is who they all know me as. It's ironic. It's so ironic I don't know if to laugh or cry. But you know, I should like to do my best to be this sort of person, if I am to honor my descendants as they have honored me.

Profile

Default King David prefers to be summoned in the form of the young shepherd he was when he defeated Goliath, but here he's been summoned from the prime of his life the King of Israel. A great and powerful king who has brought about peace and prosperity through years of conquest and war, he has accomplished much within his reign.

Bond 1 Height & Weight: idk, taller than archer david, less twinky though, higher weight too Series: FGO original Source: The Bible Region: Israel Alignment: Lawful Neutral Gender: Male The skill 'Harp Of Healing' has been lost permanently in this form.

Bond 2

A brutal warrior and an eloquent poet. A just idealist, and a ruthless, coldblooded pragmatist. A dutiful king, devoted to God above all else, and yet a hedonist weak to material comforts and attractive women. A shrewd and cunning businessman who's always attentive to all goings-on around him, and an unfocused slacker who would happily spend all day up to afternoon lazing off in bed. Such is the sort King that the shepherd boy David became; a man full of many such contradictory traits coexisting within him. The earnest shepherd boy who defeated Goliath has since matured and wizened into an experienced warrior and become a true king, and with it, it seems as if his heart has hardened. His personality is aloof and distant, and rarely does he show anything of the carefree, friendly shepherd he prefers to be summoned as.  

Bond 3

Among David's many actions as king, one of the most famous would be the incident of his adultery with Bathsheba, wife of Uriah of Hittite.

In order to cover up their affair and Bathsheba's resulting pregnancy, David attempted to persuade Uriah to lay with her again after returning from war. Upon failing, he would order his men to leave Uriah behind to be killed in the battlefield. 

For this crime, David's family would have a divine curse placed upon it. Much of his later life would be marked by tragedy.

The child Bathsheba conceived from their affair died after only a few days, and his son Amnon would sexually assault his half-sister Tamar. In revenge, Tamar's full brother Absalom would conspire with his fellows to kill Amnon, and this act would have him be exiled by David in his grief. 

He would return only to lead a rebellion and attempt to usurp the crown, which drove his father out with his armies for three years, and in the final battle to retake the throne, he was killed by Joab, the commander of David's army and his right hand man, against David's explicit orders to spare him.

Bond 4

The Lord's Anointed A

A form of Charisma that applies the skill of Divine Protection towards the leader's army and allies. The skill of Divine Protection has been lost to this David when he had a divine curse placed upon him, but in exchange the protection can be applied to all allies outside of his blood family.

Curse On The House Of David EX

A crystallization of the curse placed upon David's family line directly by God. An embodiment of the path of bloodshed that has led to much success and victory as a ruler, yet a great deal of personal loss. The Servant container allows him to re-purpose this curse into a lethal weapon; the amount of power it grants him correlates to the damage it also automatically inflicts upon him, though the limit is that it cannot exceed what he himself cannot survive and it will ensure to keep him alive.

David himself, for his part, does not consider the self-inflicted damage neither penance nor some form of terrible suffering; rather, he stoically accepts it as a natural, unavoidable consequence.

Bond 5

Sacrifice NP description, too lazy to copypaste

Interlude

It's impossible to get any true answers about his feelings on the best of times. He finds is as difficult to understand his own heart as he does the hearts of others, and any moment he allows himself to be truly open only ever comes on his own choice and his own terms, often with great reluctance even then. Any question of his feelings that he does not want to speak of will be met with a distant, emotionless non-answer through which only a little bit of the truth slips through the cracks.

But it perhaps speaks of a certain immaturity still remaining that he is quick to express his emotions very openly and loudly the moment he does choose to open up. In spite of how he looks, he's actually very earnest and sensitive, and cries easily when upset. He'll talk about his feelings very beautifully and poetically in the heat of the moment, and afterwards go right back to closing himself off completely again and pretend nothing happened.

This all makes him sound terribly troublesome, but he's a loyal, dedicated Servant to any Master he finds worthy. It's not difficult to win his appreciation and respect so long as the Master is genuine and does their best to be righteous-- it's his full trust that's another matter entirely.

[sweetlittlevampire]

Hi! I've come across your girlfriend tag, and I don't know if someone already asked it in the past, but would you mind share your story? How did you two meet, how did you realize you were a couple etc. Also, if you're comfortable with it, please share a picture of the two of you! :)

Hello, and welcome! :D

So the girlfriend and I are actually high school sweethearts! Our story often gets described as lesbian enemies-to friends-to lovers highschool AU, and - what can I say? It kinda fits. XD 

Her name is Jill. She’s nine months older than I am. I was born in June 1987, she in September 1986. 

The school year starts in September for us, so often children who are born in September get to stay in Kindergarten a year longer than others, which was also the case for her.

So I started high school in 1999, at age 12, alongside Jill. We didn’t know each other previously. I came from a background with a very strict abusive father, and high school was...how can I say? It was the place where I could escape his supervision, where I could let loose. I was a pretty bright kid, so I showed off like crazy, tried to make friends real fast, and to have fun in general. I was super annoying tbh. XD

Jill had been more like that in elementary school, so she had decided since she was joining the Grown Ups™ (pfffft), she would become all serious and study hard and focus (mostly) on only that. 

I was the art and language kid. She was the science kid.

We clashed like waves on a rock. We hated each other during that first year; we even got into a legit fist fight with each other, in which she trashed my glasses, lol.

She failed that class and had to retake the year because she was shit at French...and I failed the following year and had to retake it because I was shit at Maths, so we ended up back together in the same class. That was when I was fourteen, and that was when the teacher put us next to each other, and we pulled out the very same book out of our backpacks to read during recess.

We bonded over Star Trek and Harry Potter. As soon as we noticed that we had common interests, we began opening up to each other - reluctantly, but still. Come spring, we were already inseparable friends, and she invited me to visit her father in Switzerland.

Turns out she likes modern art, and French poetry (poetry in general), and traditional Chinese music. She approaches cooking with such a scientific scrutiny that she was, for a while, convinced the Rules Of Cooking were never to be broken, lest the kitchen might explode (adding more spice than written on the package? Add salt to taste? Unthinkable! Also I like Arabic cuisine and she can’t handle spicy stuff, so yeah).

Turns out she has warm eyes and does laugh much if you know what jokes to pull.

(That was the year we became a couple, on a school trip to Germany. She wore her hair short and dyed red back there, and I was way slimmer, lol. I was fifteen, she was sixteen.)

Now the year after, when I was fifteen, things changed. Our high school was an all-girls school (they do accept boys too since a couple of years), and many of the girls were early bloomers and had their first boyfriends and crushes, picking them up after classes. She and I, we were still single, and joked around that we could still date each other, if we wouldn’t find a boy for us to date. We didn’t think much of it at the time.

If I was already feeling something back then, I was totally oblivious. No idea at all. If she was already feeling something, she never let it transpire.

Then we went on a short trip to the Netherlands in February. She, her mum, her cousin, and me. The cottage had two rooms with a double bed in each, and her cousin shared a bed with her mum, and Jill shared a bed with me. We proceeded to talk until the wee hours of the morning each night.

The night before we were scheduled to drive home, she asked me whether I had ever thought about kissing a girl. I replied that I had not, and that I had, in fact, never kissed anyone in my life. She asked if I would be willing to try. I said: “Sure, why not?”

We both hesitated, but she was bolder than me, and kissed me.

I - it’s hard to describe what happened. It’s as someone had flipped a switch, and everything fell into place, as it always should have been. It’s like I had seen the world in black and white only, and suddenly everything was bright and colourful and saturated. That was when I realised I was in love, and that’s when she did too.

It was the morning of February 17th, at around 02:15 am, 17 years ago as I am typing this in June 2020.

We were both...unsure about how to proceed, but we decided we would just let everything run its natural course. If this was to end in a month, so be it; if it was to last longer, so be it. I was terrified to let anything show at home, because my father was that kind of person who told me to my face that “people like that” should be, in his opinion, “lined up against a wall and shot one by one” - he died before he could find out. There were definetely things we had to learn, like - we used to be glued at the hip in the beginning, but I sometimes need some time to myself, just to think and reflect and breathe. In the beginning, whenever I requested that time, Jill thought I didn’t enjoy her company, or that I was angry with her. It took a while for her to realise that she was allowed to request time on her own, too. These days, we do many things together, but not everything. Sometimes we sit in the same room, and do wildly different things at the same time. I can completely be myself with her.

I’ve never looked back. Never regretted anything. I fall in love again and again each time we meet.

There aren’t many pictures of the two of us together, for reasons we both cannot comprehend, but  there’s a selfie of me, and below it there’s a picture I took of her last September, on the train to the Steampunk Festival (hence the costume). It’s one of my favourites.

[prorevenge]

"I have an A-, so let me steal you art."

I had this friend clear back in junior high. Well, she was more of an acquaintance than a friend. We will call her Miss.

I met Miss in my 8th grade. She had moved to the area during summer. I'm the type of person who tries to include those who aren't being included anywhere else. And, due to the fact that she was a new student who didn't move in part way in the year, she was alone. (When new kids come part way, they are swarmed by students.) Miss and I had a few of the same interests. Anime, especially Naruto, we loved making music, and though she was a tad overweight, she loved to run (which I thought was awesome).

Anyways. Even though we had connected in some places, Miss always made me feel...uneasy. She had this tendency to jump headfirst into something. Sometimes, it equaled out into a grand talent, other times, she had a severe addiction to Sims. But, due to this motivation she wore, her math skills were above and beyond. Miss was a year younger than me and was already in my math class. I was, and still am, terrible at math. It doesn't click for me. It is normal for me to stay in the D range for my math, even after doing all the worksheets, studying many hours every night and taking every test. At least I tried.

Miss refused to tutor me at all. Which was fine. Her choice. I do not think she quite grasped how tough math was for me. There was one day she came in and said, "Aren't you excited to take calculus with me. We should be in it the same time in high school." I just laughed. (I never even made it to pre-cal.) There was a strange thing I noticed though. Miss was absent every single test. I thought it was something that should be addressed. But, I had watched her do assignments and they were a breeze for her. I wouldn't see a reason for her to cheat.

Toward the end of our first semester, Miss had noticed that I drew on a regular basis. I'm an artist. Far more so now than back then. I can't even look at my art from junior high without cringing. She asked for me to draw her something. I was delighted and said yes. Whipping her up something that was similar to other pieces I had done. It was on line paper and wasn't the best thing I had accomplished by that age.

As the semester was coming to a close, I realized the likelihood of me getting a D+ by the end was small. That meant I wouldn't be able to go on the school trip. Which, as you would imagine, devastated me. The last chance I had was an art project my math teacher would do every term. It still involved math, but a creative outlook on it. This one was based on a radius of a circle. So someone could draw a dog with a leash as the radius, and the grass may create a circle around the dog. As long as it had that idea, it counted. And, the art was judged, first and second places received extra credit. Basically, this was salvation for the super artsy students.

There hadn't ever been a term where I didn't get first place. I got first place the year prior as well. This was the only way I had passed. I attempted to think outside the box. (As the dog and leash was used regularly.) I ended up drawing an angel with broken wings, chained at her ankle with a sort of magic suppression circle beneath her.

After the drawings were judged, the teacher would go through all of them and show the class. The last two were shown as 2nd and 1st place. Some people had cute ideas and then he went to 2nd place. I saw my drawing. The one I had turned in. I got 2nd place. That never happened. And then, he lifted up 1st place. I also saw my drawing. Mine. The one I had drawn for Miss. The speed at which I twisted to turn my body toward her must have given her the hint that I wasn't happy. She later came up to me and said, "I'm sorry. I needed the extra credit, I'm at an A-."

I didn't say anything to her at the moment. I was fueled with anger and anything that would have come from my mouth likely would have been nonsense. But it bothered me that she wasn't willing to tutor me for ten minutes, and then proceeded to claim my art as her own while I failed.

I let it go for awhile. I still refused to speak to her, yet, my animosity only grew when I saw her absent for the final test, and, as I saw one of her friends she had made taking pictures of his test.

At the end of class and test taking, I walked up to the teacher with a giant binder of all of my art. I declared that she had stolen my art and displayed him my works in the binder. One of which was extremely similar to what I had drawn for her. My teacher said, "When I saw her piece, I even thought it was similar to your art." I then told the teacher that it seemed strange that Miss was absent every single test. The teacher knitted his brow and pulled out our attendance records and skimmed through it before saying, "AEON, thank you for bringing this to my attention. You may go."

For awhile, I didn't hear if anything had happened to Miss. Semester was about to come to a close, I still had a D- and winter break was on its way. But, one day, I come into class and sit down. Miss comes up behind me and sits in her own. I still hadn't exchanged words to her and then I hear:

"Miss, could you come here?" I glanced at the teacher and he gave me a smile that eased my entire being. Miss made her way to the teacher and I got to eat every bit of the conversation. "Miss, it has come to my attention that you do not deserve the extra credit of coming in first place. A friend of AEON's approached me and showed me proof that it was a gift she had given you. You are aware that even though art may be given as a gift, you can not and should not claim it as your own unless the artist agrees you may?" I heard subtle agreements from Miss. "Good," the teacher continued, "with your understanding of such, I'm sure you understand why I must give AEON not just the extra credit from earning 2nd place, but 1st place as well, giving her 70 points of extra credit." He seemed to say that especially loud. That amount would put me beyond a D+. I was thrilled.

It didn't stop though, the teacher kept going, but quieted his voice as more students filed in. "I have been going over your attendance. I found a glaring inconsistency in your absents. You have been gone every single test." I heard a rustle of papers. "As you can see, there isn't a single test you weren't absent for. Thus, you took them on a later date after school. I have spent the last couple weeks investigating this and have found that another student in this class had been taking pictures of the test and sending it to you. Are you willing to confirm this at this time? Or, would you like to wait until we have a meeting with your parents."

Silence.

Pure, revengeful silence. All those years practicing my art wasn't going to be abused. I figured that she must have known that I was the reason for such knowledge to pop up and I didn't care by this point. I didn't need to say a single thing to her.

Miss finally spoke. "I am good at math, AEON can confirm that." I had to stifle a laugh, because, I honestly could. I watched her math in front of me all the time.

"Meeting it is then. I would like you to know that we have records of the text messages between you and the person who sent the images. He will also be joining the meeting. Whether or not you are good at math won't change the situation. In the end, you may need to retake this course."

Miss gave a brief, "Okay," and sauntered to her desk.

I didn't get to know much after that. As much as I wanted to hear everything, the teacher still needed to uphold a safe environment. That being said, there are some cherries on this cake worth taking note when I saw her again in high school. While I knew we were about to be in the same school again, I had no plans on reaching out. She sought me out though and pulled me aside.

Miss went on to say that I destroyed a lot of her parents' faith in her as well as her teachers'. Her entire school life was dissected and studied. They found further errors where they had figured out where she had been cheating. Any respect teachers found in her had decayed. Her final year in junior high was a mass of redoing classes and taking online classes to catch up and be ready for high school. I had ruined a lot of her life. And then Miss said, "I'm happy you did it while I was in junior high before someone called me out in college. I don't think I would have stopped if I hadn't been taken down. Since then I've been actually trying. I've even lost weight!" (I'm not sure what the weight thing had to do with me ruining her reputation, but, that's what she said.)

I went on to tell her that that's great and I hoped she would continue to prosper in her education and body, but I did let her know that I wouldn't be able to have a relationship with her again. I mentioned that having someone steal my art after I gifted it to them quaked a lot of my trust and I haven't given anyone my artwork since. (I have now after five years being out of high school.) She understood and took it well.

I feel like this is pro-revenge in two ways. One, I gave her her comeuppance, I got my revenge. I received my extra credit plus some. I went on the school trip when she didn't. Everything fell exactly where I wanted it. But, two, I also helped her stop cheating her way through life, inevitably leading to a better future. Who knows, she may have fallen back in her ways, but at the time, everything worked out.

(source) story by (/u/AEONmeteorite)

[fanficimagery]

Imagine chaperoning your little brother on a field trip of his, only to end up chatting with Captain America.

Steve X Reader

With your parents both working around the clock, it's no surprise they both forget to schedule a day off to chaperone your little brother on his field trip. So on the day of his trip, you find yourself being woken up just a few hours after you'd gone to bed to take their place on the bus. You're not sure what the trip is about, so your mouth falls open in surprise when the school bus rolls down into the private garage of Stark Tower.

All the little kids seem super excited and after the night you had last night you can't help but cringe at all the noise they're making. Leaning across the aisle and tapping a fellow chaperone on the shoulder two seats ahead of you, you ask her what exactly the trip is supposed to entail.

"The Maria Stark Foundation is opening up several learning centers around the city for underprivileged children. We're here because our kids were chosen to test run the programs and various activities they have."

"Oh. Well I wish I had known beforehand," you muse while pulling a pair of large sunglasses down over your eyes. "I would have dressed more appropriate."

Your fellow chaperone eyes your sloppy bun, loose cardigan, and yoga pants, she stifling her laughter as she shakes her head in amusement. "You'll be fine. Just grab a cup of coffee when we get inside. You look a tad hungover."

You smile sheepishly. "Just a tad."

The teachers then grab everyone's attention, explaining that Mr. Stark is going to have breakfast for everyone in the cafeteria before you’re all to head on up to the seventh floor where they set up a learning center for today's activities. And then once everyone has a grasp on what to do, you're all let off the bus in a single file line and led to the cafeteria.

The kids are all fed pigs in a blanket and you find solace in the numerous fresh pots of coffee waiting to be consumed. You then manage to scarf down a breakfast burrito and then cap off your third cup of coffee when everyone is set to move on.

The seventh floor is filled with low tables and small chairs for the kids, numerous of state of the art computers lined up to be used. There are also some round tables where tablets reside and various adults at every station to explain how to use the learning programs that will soon be available to them in the coming months.

As the kids are encouraged to find a place at any station, all the chaperones head off to the side of the room and take a seat on the adult chairs.

You're blowing on the cup of coffee in hand through the small sipping hole when you hear a familiar, grating laugh and let your gaze trail off to the right where Stacy Hoskins- the school's infamous not-so-single mother who likes to hit on anyone with a pulse- walks her fingers up and down a clearly uncomfortable Captain America's arm. The other chaperones look on in amusement, while the others from Stark's tower look on in a mixture of amusement and horror at the woman's boldness.

Seeing as no one is saving the poor soul, you take a moment to think up a plan. Unclasping the lid to your coffee, you leave it in your seat as you stand up and make your way towards Captain America and his unwanted admirer. So keeping an eye on your brother, you make it seem like a total accident as you bump into Stacy's knees and spill your coffee all over her lap.

Stacy shrieks and your eyes widen in horror. "Oh my god. Stacy, I'm so sorry! I didn't see- I didn't mean-"

Now standing herself, Stacy forces a smile as she fruitlessly wipes at her coffee-stained jeans. "Of course you didn't," she grits out, flipping her bleached blonde hair to the side. "I don't see how anyone can see through those ridiculous glasses you wear."

Grinning, you push your sunglasses up on top your head. "Well I needed something to deflect the glare from that bad dye job of yours," you muse, gesturing to her hair.

Stacy gasps in outrage, not hearing the snort coming from the one she just had her claws dug into moments ago, but decides to not make an even bigger scene. Instead, she lowers her voice and mutters, "You're a total bitch, Y/N," before marching off.

Turning to follow her with your gaze, you smirk. "That comment is not as offensive as you think, Stacy. If you're trying to hurt my feelings you totally failed."

The other chaperones are laughing behind their hands and their own cups of coffee, and you shrug when several gazes meet yours. Hearing a throat clear behind you, you tense up when you remember just who you had saved from Stacy's clutches. Cringing, you slowly turn back around and glance up, only to meet the now standing Captain America's amused gaze. "Well.. that was something."

"I'm really sorry," you chuckle nervously. "Stacy is- I just couldn't watch that train wreck happen. You looked uncomfortable and I decided to step in, so I'm really sorry if I overstepped."

He laughs. "No apologies needed, ma'am. I needed a way out and was hoping a friend of mine would save me, but they apparently enjoy watching me squirm." You follow his pointed gesture to see a beautiful redhead sitting next to none other than Tony Stark himself- the latter of who salutes you with his own cup of coffee. "I'm Steve, by the way."

Facing him once more, you smile and nod. "Y/N."

He gestures to the seats beside the two of you and you take a seat with him. "So which one is yours?" He asks, taking your now empty cup of coffee and tossing it into the bin behind the chairs. "I'm assuming you're here as a chaperone since I've never seen you around the tower before."

Clasping your hands in your lap, you grin. Then looking out towards the children who have made themselves comfortable running back and forth between stations, you find one kid in particular and groan when you see him reaching towards a rather expensive looking vase in the corner. "Robert!"

The kid whirls around. "I didn't touch it!"

"Of course you didn't," you shout back. "Now go find a station." Robert's shoulders drastically droop as he drags his feet towards the nearest station, he then sitting in a chair in front of a tablet. 

"He get in trouble often?" Steve wonders.

"So-so. I usually keep him out of trouble with mom and dad since I'm the bad influence, but we're not at home right now. He breaks that vase and it's me who'll be yelled at when we get home."

"Oh. So you're not his-"

"Mom?" You meet Steve's gaze, cocking an eyebrow at him. "How old do you think I am, Steve?" You ask, mentally feeling smug when you see his lips quirk at the use of his name. Not Captain America, not Mr. Rogers, but Steve. Just Steve. "Robert's my little brother. Mom and dad forgot to take a day off of work, so they asked if I could skip classes for a day to chaperone the little terror. Luckily for me I'm on good standing with my professors and they trust me to make up the day's work within the week."

"That's awfully nice of you. And your professors."

You shrug your shoulders, feigning innocence. "What can I say? I'm very likable."

"I think Stacy would say otherwise."

Snorting, you bite your bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud and drawing attention. Then when you're under control, you say, "Yes. I'm sure she would." A moment of silence falls over you, it then turning slightly awkward when everyone keeps glancing in your direction. Jerking to sitting upright, you sheepishly meet Steve's gaze. "I, uh, I should go and make sure Robert is actually.. learning or something. It was nice meeting you."

"Yeah, you as well," Steve muses.

Stalling for a brief moment, you slowly stand to your feet while saying, "If you see Stacy coming, run. Or come find me," you grin. "I'm not afraid to chase off crazy women when they're clearly not wanted."

Steve stands with you, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "I will. I hope you and your brother have fun."

You nod and then scan the room for your brother, and try to not make it seem like the hounds of hell are on your heels as you make a beeline for him. 

What the hell was your life coming to when you got to talk one on one with Captain America?

Lunch rolls around and you lead Robert to an empty table so he'll focus on his food and not his friends. The cafeteria is abuzz with excited voices and you manage to mostly keep your little brother in line. And just when you're about to let him run off, you see his eyes widen as he slowly retakes his seat and stares at something- or rather someone- above your head.

"Excuse me, but do you mind if I sit with you?"

The newly familiar voice gives you pause and you now understand why your little brother seems so starstruck. Captain America- er, Steve- is standing right behind you. Slowly glancing over your shoulder, you're starstruck yourself for a moment before clearing your throat and gesturing with a hand. "Go ahead. Stacy find you?" You then grin.

Steve laughs as he pulls out a chair. "No. But I did see her eyeing me in hopes of sitting next to her."

"And you brought your tray over to my table? Don't I feel special," you tease.

"Y/N! You can't flirt with Captain America," you brother exclaims.

Your head snaps in his direction just as Steve snorts and you narrow your eyes at Robert. "Don't you have friends to make trouble with? Go before I find the Black Widow and tell her all about your crush on her."

Robert's grin vanishes, a pout replacing his amusement. "Fine. But you're taking my tray."

And before you can deny his demand, he's up and out of his seat only to be racing to the opposite side of the cafeteria.

"That was harsh of you," Steve muses. "You should never out a boy to the woman of his dreams."

You scoff. "Please. As if I'd actually go up to the Black Widow and make conversation. That woman is both beautiful and terrifying. I'd never have the guts to speak to her."

Steve laughs. "I'll tell her you said that. She's bound to be amused."

"Please don't. Or do," you then reiterate. "The lone lady Avenger needs all the love she can get. According to People magazine it's a tight race between you, Iron Man, and Thor."

"You actually read that tabloid?"

"Only when I need to kill time. I don't believe anything written in them, but I do find the polls rather amusing."

"That's a relief." Steve starts assembling his lunch, he taking a quick bite before following it with a sip of what looks like sweet tea. "So how's your day been so far?"

"Tiring. In case you hadn't noticed, I was a bit hungover this morning," you huff. "I bartend nights and last night was a friend's birthday, so we stayed later to celebrate a bit. I think I'd only been asleep for a few hours before I was being woken to chaperone Robert."

"Hungover? I think you were still drunk," Steve says. "Luckily for you, no one could really tell."

"It was all that coffee I drank. Trust me, if Stark hadn't had the cafeteria opened I would be dead on my feet right now."

"Well I'm glad you're feeling better. And for all that coffee you drank. If it weren't for you, I think I'd be stuck with Stacy right now." Following Steve's gaze, you grin as you spot Stacy glaring directly at you. Mockingly wiggling your fingers in a wave at her, Steve snorts and ducks his head. "Don't antagonize her."

"What," you feign innocence. "It's not like you have to drive home with her. And besides, the other chaperones will get a kick out of it. Stacy is widely known at my brother's school and her reputation isn't exactly squeaky clean. Her not getting her way today will be what all the other mom's will be talking about for the rest of the year."

"Yeah. Her, you, and me," Steve then says.

You freeze mid-sip, your eyes subtly widening. "Fuck. My mom's gonna hear about this. She's never gonna let me live this down."

"Language."

You startle at the admonishment, but his lips twitching and eyes crinkling at the corners causes you to droop in relief. "God you're such a little shit. How do people not know this about you?"

"Their belief is that Captain America is highly virtuous. And since Steve Rogers is Captain America, they think I'm the same way. I've learned to go with the flow and troll them unexpectedly."

"Oh man. What I would give to see that in person."

A moment passes in silence as the two of you take a few bites of food, and then Steve's clearing his throat. "You can," he says, gaze solely focused on his tray as he talks. "See the trolling in action, I mean. Would you.. like to grab coffee some time?"

You blink in surprise, mouth gaping. Just as you're about to retort, a strangled noise escapes instead and you click your mouth shut. Steve stares at you in amusement then, and you roll your eyes. But before you can give your answer, a chair across from the both of you is being pulled out and someone is taking a seat.

But it's not just anyone, no. It's James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky. Former Winter Soldier. Steve Rogers' best friend.

"Uhh..."

"Thanks a lot, punk. Ditch me for a pretty girl while leaving me to stage four clinger Stacy over there," Bucky says, gesturing over his shoulder. "Did you at least get to askin' this one out?" He then asks, staring at you.

You can feel your face heating up and Steve groans. And before you can think anymore on it, you blurt, "Yes."

"Yes?" Bucky wonders.

Looking at Steve, you say, "Yes. To the coffee." Steve's startled expression turns pleased and this time it's Bucky's turn to groan. But before he can retort with something embarrassing, you say, "And now that that's out of the way, I'm gonna go.. and be somewhere else to get my heart rate back under control."

"How will I contact you?" Steve asks as you stand, collecting your and Robert's tray.

"Uhh.."

"Just rattle it off," Bucky muses. "The punk will remember it. He has a good memory."

"Oh." As you rattle off your number for Steve, you only have a moment to regret doing so when you see Bucky typing it into his own phone, smirking all the while. You have a feeling both these gentlemen are going to bring a lot of amusement in the near future. "So, uh, it was nice meeting you guys." Looking at Bucky, you say, "I guess I'll see you around? And you," you shyly smile as you then stare at Steve. "I guess I'll be seeing you sooner rather than later."

Steve grins. "You will."

"Okay then." Leaving the table in a slight daze, you manage to dump both trays in hand before finding your little brother.

As you take a seat next to him out in the hall, he asks, "Did you really give Captain America and the Winter Soldier your phone number?"

"I.. think I did," you gulp, suddenly paling. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Cool! You are officially the best sister ever. If he becomes your boyfriend, you're bringing him home to dinner."

"Shut up, Robert."

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Fourteen: The Color Yellow ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Yamanaka Ino ] [ SasuHina, bullying ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

She hates, hates, hates days like today. And by ‘like today’, Hinata specifically means one of the most dreaded days of the school year:

Picture day.

There’s just something so...embarrassing about having her picture taken. Part of it is her appearance: twelve years old, and still with such a round baby face. Her father still refuses to let her grow her hair out, stuck with the same short cut she’s had since starting school. All the other girls, it seems, have gotten to let their hair reach such pretty, flowing lengths. She can’t help but be a little jealous. Add in that Hinata’s found herself to be a bit of an early bloomer, and she just...doesn’t like pictures of herself at all.

But the other most annoying part is that her father insists she wear the stupidest outfits. Staunch, unflattering, and just...overall horrible.

This year? A dress that looks straight out of the fifties. It’s honestly so dated she can hardly stand to look at it. And the color?

Yellow. Bright, slightly-off yellow. With white trim. Her already pale skin looks all the more washed out against the obnoxious shade...and she just knows she’s going to be poked fun at over it. She’s in the sixth grade, a new middle schooler, and Hiashi still gets to pick her picture day outfit. As she gets on the bus, Hinata begins mentally preparing herself to resist the barrage of comments from those like Sakura and Ino. Hinata struggles enough to fit in fashionably normally...but this? This is going to be painful.

Huddled in the corner of her seat, she keeps her backpack on her lap, doing her best to hide behind it. Of course, no one ever sits with her. No one ever pays her any mind. But she doesn’t want to run the risk of gaining anyone’s attention. And with it, their inevitable mockery.

But eventually...she’s going to have to get off the bus. As an extreme, she considers hiding once all the other students get off, but...well, the driver always does a sweep. And surely they’ll call her father if she doesn’t show up to class. Not only will she get in trouble with the school and her teachers, but with her father as well. And Hiashi would be livid if she ever skipped so much as a single class.

...best to not even consider it. No matter what the other girls say to her, it would never compare to an angry Hiashi Hyūga.

So when the bus pulls up along the front of the school, everyone disembarking, Hinata swallows harshly before shakily standing and making her way out.

At least outside, with such a crowd, no one really seems to notice. It won’t be until she’s inside, probably in the classroom, that anyone will give her a second look and realize how ridiculous her outfit is.

Just ignore them, Hinata...y-you hate it as much as they do. They...they just… Oh, what’s the use...there’s no fooling herself. Never will be. It’s not just the outfit they dislike. It’s her. All of her. Her looks, her personality...she’s just your typical misfit.

Stepping up to the front door, Hinata gives it a somber look before making her way in.

The hallways, of course, are a madhouse: her middle school is fairly big, made bigger by the fact it’s technically also part elementary school: two separate wings for each group of students. She’s spent all of her time as a student here. It won’t be until the final four years she’ll get to leave this building behind and possibly find a better niche than the one she’s found...that being a lonely corner, out of the way.

The shuffle and quick pace means she’s mostly ignored - how in such a bright outfit, she’s really not sure. But at least by some grace she makes it to her locker without anyone giving her any trouble. Hurriedly, she puts away her bag, gathering what she’ll need for her first hour block. Maybe if she gets sat down quick enough, she’ll -

“Oh, wow…”

Her back muscles tense, frozen and facing her locker.

She knows that voice.

There’s a bubbling of laughter. “I didn’t know today was a costume day...trying to look like the sun?” Behind Hinata, Ino can’t help but snicker. “That has to be the ugliest shade of yellow I’ve ever seen.”

“M...my dad...picked it,” Hinata offers feebly, still not turning around. Maybe she can put the blame elsewhere…

“Wait, your dad still dresses you? Well...I guess that explains a lot.”

...or it will just make things worse.

“Well there won’t be any mistaking you in the yearbook,” the blond then offers, shrugging her shoulders. “I think the editors might have to tone down the brightness or they’ll go blind!”

Clutching her books, Hinata just waits until she hears Ino’s laughter disappear down the hall. Okay, well...that was probably the worst of it. Sakura will probably have words, but hers are never quite as sharp as Ino’s: just attempts at follow ups that never pan out quite as well.

Everyone else will probably just laugh. And...she’s used to that.

Clinging her supplies to her chest, she speedily walks to her first classroom, taking her seat near the back and doing her best to sink in her chair. Most of the others are too busy talking to friends or hurrying to finish up homework to notice her...good. Hopefully it will stay that way. The biggest hurdles will be the actual pictures...and lunch. If she can just make it through those...the worst will be over.

Then she can try to pretend that today never happened.

More and more students filter in, and Hinata just sits still, eyes flickering in search of anyone looking at her. But, as per usual, she’s mostly ignored.

“Nice outfit.”

Almost jumping out of her skin, Hinata looks to the desk next to her own in the corner. Setting his books atop it is her typical neighbor, Sasuke. His brow is perked, looking her over critically. “Did you mean to wear that?”

Slowly blooming pink, Hinata tries to figure out a passable answer. Does she dare admit the same excuse as she did to Ino? “U...um…”

“Cuz I mean...that’s nothing like what you usually wear.”

...she blinks. Blinks again. He…? But…? How would he know…? Unless he’s been…?

“...m...my father p-picked it out. He’s, um...he’s v-very strict about my...about my school p-picture.”

Understanding brightens Sasuke’s face a bit. “...that makes sense. He, uh...really doesn’t have a clue about clothes, does he? You look like a banana.”

The color in her cheeks gets darker. “I...I-I know…”

“Didn’t bring anything to change into after pictures?”

“...no…” She hadn’t thought of that…

“Well...guess you’re stuck with it.”

Wilting a bit, Hinata nods in defeat.

“Eh, whatever. It’s just one day. My brother says the seniors always dress up goofy for theirs. Maybe if anyone asks, you’re just starting early.”

Another blink. “...they do?”

“Yeah. Drives my brother nuts.” A hint of a smile pulls at his lips. “He’s such a prude...I bet he won’t do it next year.”

“W...will you? I-I mean, when you’re a...a senior?”

“I might. Guess it depends on how I feel. It’s a long time between now and then, after all. But hey, you’re not the only one who’s gotta dress up.”

Blinking, Hinata watches as Sasuke tugs the zipper of his jacket. Beneath is a dress shirt, complete with a bright red tie. It...looks a bit odd with his shorts and sneakers.

“The pictures are only waist up, so the rest doesn’t matter,” he explains at her confused expression, closing the zipper. A hint of a smirk pulls at his lips. “This way, I can hide it all day.”

“...lucky,” she can’t help but comment, going red as she realizes he heard her.

“Didn’t bring a coat?”

“No...a-and even then, you can still see the s-skirt…”

“Oh...yeah, true.”

“Hey, Sasuke!”

Immediately, the boy’s face sours. Ino sashays her way over, perching atop his desk with one knee over the other. “What?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re not going blind back here,” she quips with a smirk. “Poor thing, having to look at that ugly dress...I don’t know which is worse: that, or wearing it!”

All the while, Hinata just sits silently, taking the abuse with a tight jaw.

“Funny, I was gonna say it’s about the same shade as your hair,” Sasuke retorts.

The blonde gives him an aghast glance. “...what?!”

“She didn’t pick the clothes, Ino. Leave her alone. You really got nothing better to do than make fun of her for an outfit she doesn’t even want?”

“I...but…she looks ridiculous!”

By now, the talk has garnered some attention, other students looking back curiously.

“So? Like I said, it’s not what she wanted. So leave her alone. It’s just a dress.” Standing, Sasuke then asks, “You wanna see ridiculous?” He reopens his coat, gesturing to the non sequitur between his top and the rest of his outfit.

A few kids laugh, including Sasuke’s best friend Naruto.

“Gonna laugh at me too, Ino? Or is this not really about clothes?”

Mouth flapping like a fish out of water as she fails to find a response, Ino instead claps her lips shut and retreats back to her desk.

“Tch...there.” Not bothering to zip his coat, Sasuke retakes his seat. “...I think that settles that.”

Hinata gapes at him. “...you…?”

“What?”

“...nevermind.” Well...maybe today won’t be so bad after all.

                                                              .oOo.

     It's so late omg @~@ I...didn't really like this prompt, so this is rather...random? But it's all I could really think of. Poor Hinata, I'm always writing her getting bullied...but that's typically what happens to the quiet kids. Either they're ignored, or poked fun at =/      But at least Sasuke's got her back on this one!      Anyway, it's SUPER late, I gotta go! Thanks for reading~

[whittakerjodie]

Transcendence Chapter 7 (13th Doctor X Reader) (Sneak Peak)

Authors note: sorry I forgot to upload the sneak peak here, been busy lol! 

Chapter summary: What exactly did the Doctor ask her companions to do in her abscense? What’s up with the secretary? And most importantly... will Yaz help Ryan get you and the Doctor together? 

Where to find the FULL chapter: My AO3, Whittakerjodie. Tumblr won’t let external links appear in tags. 

Yasmin Khan was having a shit day. A real, intense, no-good, shit day. First, she got zero sleep on account of sifting through pages and pages of police reports trying to find anything suspicious. Then, the second she stepped foot in Coal Hill she was bombarded with students asking her about Jane, Y/N, and their damn tests and assignments that were never graded no matter how many god damn times she told the Doctor to do them- She clutched the bathroom sink, trying to anchor herself to the real world.

She counted her breaths, trying to calm herself down. Alright, Khan. Whats going on. She was in the girls bathroom; she'd stomped there after being cornered by a group of girls asking if they could retake the last quiz (which they'd failed, horribly so) Her heart was racing fast- to fast, fast enough to run and never look back. The soft porcelain in her hands was cold, contrasting the heat flaring up inside of her. There were 2 stalls in the bathroom, both thankfully empty. The window was cracked slightly and there was a soft breeze wafting through. Scent-wise, everything was boring. But boring was nice, for once. Boring helped hold her down.

God, what was happening to her? She'd gotten over all of this, for the most part. One last thing to note: the ever-present weight in her pocket. She was mostly calmed down, enough to realize that she needed to get to Jane's class soon. She felt a small tickle on her hand and her head shot towards the source of the sensation. It was a tiny wasp, moving across her skin. Its stinger danced across her skin, taunting her. That's the last thing I need. She twisted her hand so that it moved onto the sink instead, leaving it alone. When she turned to make her way out of the bathroom, she could hear more buzzing by the window. She latched it shut and walked down to Jane's classroom.

The classes went by in a blur, considering she was the one doing most of the work. The Doctor hadn't changed much. She was flashy as always. Running around the room, scribbling nonsense on boards that she was 100% certain had nothing to do with her set curriculum. It was cute, in a way, if every second of it didn't remind her that she was so close yet so far from being her real self- the one that could get her out of this mess and back home properly.

She desperately needed someone who was real. By the time lunch rolled around she was tapping her foot against the floor in an attempt to keep herself from snapping at the next student who interrupted the Doctors teaching to joke about her and Y/N. It was fun at first, but the more it built up on bad days the more she wanted to rip open both fob watches and demand her freedom.

Her legs moved in a near sprint towards her, Ryan, and Grahams usual meeting place, grumbling a quick 'no' when Jane asked if she wanted to join them for lunch. She was surprised to see that Ryan was the only one of the pair sitting at the bench, zoning out.

"No Graham?" Yaz asked.

"No Graham." Ryan answered. "Dealing with loads of graffiti in the bathroom. You know, all that stuff with the Doctor." Fucking christ, she couldn't catch a break, could she?

She gave a loud exaggerated sigh, plopping down on the bench. Ryan gave her a little bit of side-eye, continuing.

"Did you see what happened this morning? With the shirts?" No, but she'd heard about it from just about every single person in existence. She could feel her irritation reaching its peak, her feet dangling just over the edge. "I've been thinking. If its that serious, there's no way we can't get them on a date or something"

[moodyvalentinestories]

A Holly Jolly Christ-Mess. Part 5. | Rachel x Hunt

05: In the Shower

“We’re snuggled up together like two birds of a feather would be.” – Sleigh Ride

Warning: Mature content! 18+ stuff! NSFW! Don’t read if you’re a smol, innocent baby.

Summary: Rachel and Hunt have dinner at his place.

Pairing: Thomas Hunt x Rachel Fields

Words: ~ 1,700 words

Notes: This was meant to be wholesome and cute and then... er... I suppose I got a bit thirsty for a moment. The thirst for Thomas Hunt never stops.

❥ Moodyvalentine’s Masterlist ❥ Christmas Series Masterlist

There were few things Rachel loved as much as falling asleep in Thomas’ arms. It didn’t happen often enough for her to be unable to sleep without him, but she always found herself wishing she never had to. Of course, that was all wishful thinking at this point. No matter how you looked at it, there was simply no way for them to have that. Not yet, anyway. Not for a long time. So she contented herself with the occasional night spent in his embrace and hoped that, one day, things would change for them. If – and that was a big if – Thomas even wanted that. She wasn’t so sure.

But, of course, he did. More than anything else in the world. To his own surprise, he’d had significantly more trouble falling asleep by himself since she’d waltzed into his life. Perhaps, he figured, it was his age catching up with him – longing for a permanent partner to spend the rest of his life with. The thought didn’t scare him as much as he thought it ought to. Though, surely – even if their circumstances had allowed it – it would have scared her off, were he ever to voice it.

And so neither of them said a word, instead snuggling closer together, thoughts and dreams of the future pushed to the back of their minds as they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

“Don’t you dare try to sneak out again,” Thomas said drowsily when he was woken up by a suspicious amount of movement next to him the next morning.

Rachel chuckled and leant over to place a quick kiss on his lips. “Why do you think I’m being so obnoxiously obvious? I wasn’t going to wake you, but if you just so happened to wake up…”

“You’re terrible,” he groaned, though he wasn’t truly annoyed. He’d much rather have her wake him than wake up later to her gone. He sat up, watching her walk over to his dresser – her drawer – where she grabbed a change of clothes. “Do you really have to leave already?”

She laughed again. “Yes, Thomas. Trust me, I’m not happy about my early morning classes, either, but I’d rather not retake Moriyama’s course.”

“You could always tell him you had an important meeting with another professor,” Thomas suggested with a smirk. “He’ll understand.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “And here I thought my education was important to you.”

He huffed. “Of course it is. I simply fail to see why you chose to take Photography of all things.”

“Oh, you think I won’t need that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow challengingly. “Because while I may think I understand my craft, while I may think I've got what it takes to make it—”

“Don’t you quote me to me,” Thomas warned. Of course, she wasn’t wrong. And he certainly wasn’t going to tell her which classes she could and couldn’t take. Not that she would have listened, either way.

“Well, I’ll be in the shower,” she said, and it took him a moment – until she started undressing on her way out of his room – to understand that she’d meant it as an invitation rather than a simple statement. But once he did, he was out of bed within seconds, following her like she had him on a leash.

The door to the bathroom was not only unlocked but wide open, and Thomas found her sitting naked on the edge of his bathtub. He swallowed hard.

God, she was gorgeous.

“I was wondering if you’d get it,” she said cheekily as she stood up and slid open the shower door.

Thomas was still standing in the doorway, unable to form a response.

She turned around, raising an eyebrow. “Are you just going to stand there or are you coming?”

Another tug on the invisible leash that Thomas was now convinced existed and he followed her into the shower, kicking off his pants and underwear on the way. She ignored him for a moment – though not without effort, as the proximity of their naked bodies did have an effect on her – and switched on the shower. The water, however, was still cold, and she took a step back from the icy stream, her body pressing up against Thomas’.

He let out a low growl at the sudden contact, which only served to encourage her as she started wiggling her ass against him.

“Rachel.”

What was meant as a warning came out more like a desperate plea and, not for the first time, Thomas wondered how he had so fallen under her spell.

She smirked, continuing her ministrations as she held a hand under the water to test the temperature again, then – once it was warm enough – moved away from Thomas to stand under it. Her smug expression never left her face as she turned around to face him.

Until, suddenly, he took control again, closing the distance that she had created between them and pressing his lips to hers urgently. He pushed her against the wall behind her, causing her to moan into his mouth. “Thomas…”

“Is this why you woke me up so early?” he asked, letting his lips wander over her jaw, then down her neck. “You know you could have just asked, right?” He nipped and sucked on her skin, knowing he would leave a mark that she would later cover up with that atrocious reindeer-patterned scarf of hers – but he would know it was there, and that was what mattered. “I could never refuse you.”

Rachel hummed as his mouth moved down to her breasts, peppering kisses on her skin along the way. “Mhh, yes… but where’s the fun in that?” Her hands went into his hair, tugging slightly at the silky strands as she pulled him back up to her. “Besides, I so love when you come to me.”

And with that, her lips were on his again as she rolled her hips once, feeling his growing erection press against her. She smirked then and let go of him to reach for the shampoo bottle. “But I think maybe I really should start getting clean instead of dirtier if I want to be out of here in time.”

“Oh no,” Thomas said, grabbing her hand and pinning it against the tiled wall. “You’re not going anywhere until we’re done here.”

She gasped as he pressed himself tightly against her, coherent thoughts banished from her mind. Still, she managed to get out, “I’m going to miss my Photography class.”

“Yes,” Thomas groaned as he sank his cock into her. He should have cared more but, single-minded as he was in that moment, he simply couldn’t bring himself to. “Yes, you are.”

And Rachel didn’t care much either, letting out a wanton moan as he began moving within her. God, he felt so good.

Somehow, through the haze that was her mind, she remembered that the hot water was still running, and that they should probably turn it off, but as she blindly reached for the switch with her free hand, Thomas thrust deeper into her, making her grip his shoulder, her nails digging into his wet skin. “Oh, fuck!”

And with each thrust that followed, she moaned and gasped, spurring him on more and more, until she finally found her release with a loud scream of his name. Her walls convulsed around his cock, bringing his own orgasm as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, pressing himself as tightly against her as he possibly could.

They remained entangled in each other’s arms for a few moments as they caught their breath, the now merely lukewarm water still raining down on them.

“What are you doing to me, Rachel?” Thomas whispered against her skin.

She chuckled weakly as she ran her hands through his hair. “I could ask you the same thing. I’ve never skipped a class without a good reason before.”

He frowned, and though she couldn’t see it, she knew exactly what expression was on his face from the tone of his voice alone. “Is this not a good reason?” He knew damn well it wasn’t, but it sure had felt like one.

“I suppose it is,” she said with a smile, then gently pulled Thomas’ hair. “But I think we’re running out of warm water soon so…”

He sighed, not yet willing to let her go, but took a step back nonetheless. “Right. I’ll let you get to it,” he said and moved to get out of the shower.

“Wait,” Rachel said, grabbing his arm. “Stay. Please?”

It didn’t take much convincing. None at all, really. “Of course.” He kissed her ever so gently before reaching for the shampoo bottle. “Turn around.”

She did as he asked, letting out soft moans as he massaged the shampoo into her scalp. Once he was done, she did the same for him.

By the time they got out of the shower, the water had run cold.

“I will be sure to inform Professor Moriyama that we were discussing your essay this morning,” Thomas said as he handed her a towel. He’d never meant to use the fact that he was her professor to her – or his – advantage, but he had been the reason she’d missed her class, and he felt he would be remiss if he didn’t do his best to at least reduce the fallout.

“No need. I already emailed him last night,” she said with a smirk. “Did you know I had a very important audition just now?” She wrapped the towel around her, then looked at Thomas, feigning disappointment. “Of course I didn’t get the role…”

“You little minx,” he said as he moved towards her, a smile he couldn’t hide tugging at the corners of his lips.

She grinned up at him. “You love it.”

“Mhhh,” he hummed and leant down to kiss her. “I love you.”

Neither of them wanted her to leave yet, but Rachel still had a short film to finish before her next class, and Thomas cursed himself for giving his class so much work to do.

“Oh, come on, you’ll see me again in – what? – like three hours?” she chuckled, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

He sighed. “Yes. As my student.”

“Hmm… five hours, then. You could make up some bullshit excuse to see me after class…”

“At one point or another, that ought to become suspicious.”

She grinned at him mischievously. “I’ll make sure to give you a reason then.”

And he didn’t doubt that she would. Causing trouble in his lecture was one of her many talents, after all.

Tags: @lilyofchoices​ @trappedinfandoms​ @flyawayboo​ @alleksa16​ @silversparrow02​ @hopelessromantic1352​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ @oneemofungirl​

[hashtagonlyingotham]

I failed my college final the other day. I was studying so hard for it and burning the candle at both ends to complete all of my other papers and projects and then the big day came and I ....slept in. Yeah, I was that exhausted. I woke up two hours after the final ended. I tried to talk to the professor about it, but he refuses to let me make it up. That was a huge chunk of my grade. I failed the class. I have to retake it next semester. All that work and for that to happen? It hurt. A lot. Especially when I had to tell my parents.

After four solid days of curling up in my bedsheets and wallowing in misery , my friends dragged me out of my room and took me to a bar to try to cheer me up. I don’t condone irresponsible drinking but after that much academic stress, I went off the wagon. I drank like it was the end of the world, more than I ever had before in my life. Like, I was GONE. And then something went down. I remember a loud noise and some people screaming, and some really pushy dudes, but not much else? But there was a point where I couldn’t find my friends and I stumbled over to who I thought was the bartender to ask him where they went. He stared at me for the longest time and said he had no idea. I asked him for another drink, he turned me down, and told me I’ve had too much already. I tried to bribe him with some gum and pizza coupons I had in my backpack, but he refused. I tried to do some kung-fu moves on him in a moment of drunken rage but I ended up just falling over and bumping my head on the pinball machine. He then picked me up, gave me a band-aid and told me he’d find a ride for me.

I black out for a little bit and then I wake up in some sweet-ass car. The bartender is behind the wheel, driving me home. He’s wearing the weirdest uniform I’ve ever seen any bartender wear but he’s nice, and he tries to make the situation less awkward by asking me stuff about my life. I end up confessing the whole “blew my final” thing and talking about how worried I am about my GPA, how I’ll never graduate, how the scholarship I got is wasted on my talentless ass .... everything I’ve been secretly thinking since the semester started but haven’t admitted to anyone, including myself. He listens, though, and he’s real patient, and when I’m done, he says some things. Like, really profound shit. I can’t remember everything he told me, but I remember it made me feel better. Like, the best I’ve felt in a long time. I tell him he’s the greatest bartender I ever met and I try to give him some of the coupons from earlier as a tip. He ends up taking one just to humor me. It gets quiet, I get tired. The last thing I remember is falling asleep in the passenger seat. It was cozy. I liked it.

The next morning, I wake up in my apartment with a hangover, a bruise on my forehead and a phone with literally hundreds of missed calls from my friends. I go to the living room and I find every last one of them sleeping on the couch or on blankets on the floor. I wake them up to ask what the hell is going on and they fill me in on what happened the night before.

The next morning, I wake up in my apartment with a hangover, a bruise on my forehead and a phone with literally hundreds of missed calls from my friends. I go to the living room and I find every last one of them sleeping on the couch or on blankets on the floor. I wake them up to ask what the hell is going on and they fill me in on what happened the night before.

Apparently, the Penguin was up to his usual shit in the area of the city we were in and The Batman came to put a stop to it. The fight got intense and somehow eventually spread over to the bar we were in. The screaming I heard? Civilians trying to get away. The pushy people? Henchmen, probably. I got separated from my friends because they had all evacuated the building and in the chaos, none of them realized that I wasn’t with them until ten minutes later when they all met up at some park. Upon realizing that I was missing, they had all panicked and tried to reach me by the phone. I didn’t answer because I was too drunk to remember my passcode. But they kept trying and trying because they didn’t know if I was hurt or dead or worse.

At this point I’m just standing there trying to wrap my head around this, with my jaw open. But here’s where it gets really crazy.

So eventually, after a solid hour of them trying to contact me, they get a call from my number from someone that is not me. They ask my friends who they are, who I am, and where I can be “dropped off.” They ask who he is, he won’t answer that question, but he promises to get me home safe. They make a plan to have me brought to my apartment.

So they’re all waiting outside in the parking lot, waiting for the car to bring me home. They don’t know what they’re looking for but they were told “you’ll know it when you see it.”

And then they see it.

The Batmobile - THE Batmobile - drives up to them. The Batman himself gets out, waves to them, opens the passenger’s seat, and there I am, in a drunken slumber, buckled up, snoring inside with a bandaid on my forehead.

The “bartender” with the weird uniform? Yeah. That was the Batman. I tried to bribe and Kung-fu my way to a drink with the Batman. The Batman gave me a band-aid. The Batman took my coupon. The Batman listened to my problems. The Batman was my designated driver home.

Only in Gotham.

P.S. After my friends went home, I got a knock on the door. I answered it and it was a pizza delivery man with a fresh pie for me. He said it had already been paid for (with a tip included for him), mentions it was “made special”, and leaves.

I open it up. The pepperoni and sausage toppings spell out a single message: STAY IN SCHOOL

Batman if you’re reading this, I’m going to graduate, WITH honors, and when I do, you’re invited to the after party.