#like yes I would fail the class and not be able to graduate but it would be so funny

[gay-ventress]

my professor just recommended that we make our final on carrd

[nervousimposter]

Eddie started finding notes in his locker his sophomore year. The first couple of them, he just tossed without reading. He didn’t need to read what those asshole bullies wanted to say about him. But curiosity won out after two weeks of constant notes and he finally opened one. It was the single most impactful thing he’d ever read. 

I think you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. 

He kept that note. And every other note he got from that point on. If anyone were to ask Eddie what he regretted most in his life, it would be those two weeks of notes he tossed without reading. Ten slips of paper with unknown writing that he wishes he could get back. Add them to his ‘mystery boys notes’ box. And he was a mystery, the note writer. Anonymous. Unknown. Impossible to catch. 

Eddie held out for a month. A whole month before he decided to stage a stake out. He watched his locker like a hawk. In between classes, during classes, lunch, after school and even one absolutely horrible day where he came in an hour before school started. But the mystery boy had to be invisible. He never saw anyone approach his locker but his daily note was always there. And Eddie; poor, unfortunate, infatuated Eddie dealt with mystery boys’ notes from ‘82 to ‘85. Four agonizing years of the most heart-warming, loving notes. 

I wish I was as brave as you.

Did you change your shampoo? Your hair looked so soft today.

God, your eyes have to be the biggest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen. So pretty.

I like how long your hair is getting. 

Saw you walking down the hall today and I’ve never wanted to kiss someone more. 

They started cute. Compliments here and there, even a doodle every once in a while. Hearts and smiley faces. But as the months and years went by, the mystery boy got deeper. Confessions and secrets. 

I think if I had a different dad, we would’ve been best friends.

Can you fall in love with someone you’ve never talked to?

I dream about us. 

I’m a boy. I’m sorry.

I want to hold your hand. Those rings are something else. 

I saw you trying to catch me. Adorable.

I wish I could take you on a date. Not give a shit what my dad would say or what people would think. 

I wish I could be brave enough to talk to you. 

You’re still the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.

I’m graduating this year. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you. I think I’m going to try to figure out a way to keep dropping these off next year. I don’t want you to forget about me.

The notes didn’t continue when the school year started. Eddie was embarrassed to admit he cried that first night. He wasn’t sure how the mystery boy was going to be able to get the notes to him but he fully believed it was going to happen. He went five weeks with no daily note in his locker. And then, it showed up on a Monday. He almost missed it, the tiny slip of paper. 

Sorry this took so long. Had to figure out how I was going to sneak these in here. I don’t think I’ll be able to call you pretty every day of the week this time around but I’m going to try my best! 

And mystery boy was right. The notes were always there on Monday. Just Monday. But Eddie didn’t complain. One note a week after five weeks of nothing almost had his heart bursting from his chest. It also narrowed down his search. Sort of. Mystery boy was either coming in on those Mondays to drop off the note, sneaking in on the weekends when the school was empty OR after school on Fridays. And look, he’s failed to graduate high school two times in a row now but he wasn’t stupid. Did it take him three months after the notes to start again for him to realize who it was? Yes but to be fair, for two of those months it was Eddie wallowing in denial. 

Five weeks into school was when he restarted Hellfire. Three weeks before that was when he brought in those new little freshman sheepies. The same freshman sheepies that got picked up by Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who graduated last year. Steve Harrington who he catches staring at him from his beemer in the parking lot every Friday night before he takes the kiddies home. Steve who he categorizes as someone who is so far out of his league that it just couldn’t be him. But it’s been three months and there isn’t any other former Hawkins high student running around in or near the school. And now that Eddie’s almost certain Steve has been mystery boy these past few years, he can’t wait. He’s been in love with a figure made out of slips of paper for four years and his nonexistent patience has truly run thin.  

He calls for a break 15 minutes before they normally end their sessions. Tells the boys he needs to run to the bathroom and almost sprints out the door. His locker sits in the hallway just around the corner of the drama room. The door closing shut echos through the empty hallways, alongside the squeaks coming from his shoes as he hustles towards his locker. He freezes as soon as he turns the corner. 

Steve probably only had 30 seconds after hearing the door open and shut to process what he was going to do. He could’ve run or hid, maybe pretend like he just needed the bathroom while he waited. But Eddie watched him pause as they made eye contact instead. Watched as Steve looked him up and down. Watched him relax and lean back against the lockers behind him with a lazy smirk. His arm slowly moved up and Eddie could see a slip of paper held between his fingers. Steve didn’t break eye contact with him at all as he proceeded to shove the paper between the vents of his locker. They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Staring. Broken when Steve pushed himself off the wall and walked towards him. He didn’t stop. Side stepped around Eddie before they could collide. A faint brush of his fingers along the back of his hand as he walked past him. And Eddie just watched him pass. Just like he watched him slip that note in his locker, he watched Steve walk back down the hall and out the front doors.

He waited only five seconds after the doors closed behind Steve before he jogged over to his locker. Grabbed the note and shoved it into his pocket before running back over to the drama room. Told the guys that they stopped at a decent spot and would meet again next Friday. Walked with them to the parking lot to head home. To catch a glimpse of Steve. And there he was, sitting in his beemer, staring again. This time though, Eddie smiled at him. He smiled at him and pulled the note out of his pocket. Opened it right there in the parking lot while he stared back at Steve. It only took him a few seconds to glance down to read. And as soon as he did, he threw his head back and laughed. Cackled really. He looked back at the beemer and saw Steve with the widest grin. Watched him lift his fingers off the steering wheel and wiggle them at him before he started pulling out of the lot. He looked back down at the note in his hand and chuckled again. Who knew Steve Harrington knew DnD well enough to draw a perfect rendition of an eight sided dice?

Wanna go on a d8? - Steve Harrington xxx-xxx-xxxx

[solarsturniolo]

𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖕 // 𝕸.𝕾. // 𝕺𝖓𝖊

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: in which Matt is failing his classes and at risk of having to repeat the semester, and his tutor is the reason behind it.

𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗: This is a collaborative story that me and @bambi-slxt started on, but I am in charge of it now :) All characters in this story are of age. None of the characters are minors.

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: cursing / smut / switch!matt / switch!fem reader / male masturbation / wet dreams / use of good boy / virgin!matt / p in v / oral (fem receiving) / oral (male receiving) / overstimulation / breeding kink / praise kink / mommy kink / scenes mentioning anxiety

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 5,906

“W-Wait, what?” Matt’s eyes widened, his eyebrows raising. “What do you mean I might not be able to graduate?”

The school counselor sighed, lifting her glasses from the bridge of her nose and placing them onto her desk. She leaned back in her plush swivel chair, looking at the nervous boy sitting across from her. Her office was comforting, a place that Matt had found solace in quite often on his bad days. She never used the overhead light, always opting for the warm glow of her floor lamps and the flicker of light from the flame in a scented candle. Her bookshelves were littered with not only books, but numerous knick-knacks and do-hickeys. Most people would have seen it as clutter, but Matt found comfort in the items she had, which more or less reminded him of his grandmother’s house.

She turned her monitor for him to see, and she visibly saw the blood drain from his face. Her screen glowed with a much harsher light, the gradebook showing Matt’s transcript laid out in front of him. “You’re proficient in your American History class, but the rest of your classes for the semester are in the gutter. Socioeconomics, U.S. Government, European Literature, and Chemistry are all greatly negatively impacting your overall grade point average.” Matt’s head fell, his hands coming up to rub his face. How could I have let it get this bad? How could I be so negligent? How was it even possible? She clasped her hands together and leaned forward, resting her arms on her desk. She had grown to like Matt, he was polite and always greeted her with a smile, he was very open with his thoughts and feelings, and he really did work hard. She empathized with him, because she knew how it felt to be in this spot. “This is a reversible situation - we can fix this. You have options, Matt.”

Matt looked up from his lap, his hands falling onto his thighs. “W-We can?”

“Yes,” she replied with a smile. She swirled her chair around, unlocking one of the drawers in her filing cabinet and opening it to reveal a number of filing folders. She fingered through them before pulling out a sheet, turning her chair back towards her desk and placing it down in front of Matt. “We have a tutoring program available, and I think you would benefit greatly from it.”

“Tutoring?” Matt frowned, staring down at the paper. He never thought in his life that he would need tutoring. How embarrassing. I’m doing so bad in my classes that I need another student to teach me. What if I know them? What if they tell everybody? Matt looked back up at the counselor, hesitation clear on his face. “Are there any other options?”

She sighed, putting her glasses back on and turning the monitor to face her once again. Matt watched intently as she clicked her mouse a few times. Matt instinctively brought his hand to his face, subconsciously beginning to chew on his nails. I can’t choose tutoring. Chris and Nick will never let me hear the end of it. This is so embarrassing. Can’t I just retake a test or something? Why did I let it get this bad?

“Unfortunately, the only other option I have here is for you to retake these classes again…which would also mean repeating senior year.”

Matt hadn’t realized he had chewed his nail off. He dropped his hand back to his lap, discreetly spitting it out when she wasn’t looking at him. “I’ll take the tutoring,” Matt sighed. The thought of not graduating with Nick and Chris made him feel queasy. His stomach turned over just thinking about his brothers walking across that stage while he sat in the audience and watched. His brothers holding their diplomas up with cheesy smiles on their faces for their pictures that would surely be framed and hung on the walls of their parents’ house for the remainder of their lives; all while Matt would have to wait another year to meet the same fate. Another year of high school, this time without his brothers. Without Chris to make him laugh, to make the day move by just a little quicker. Without Nick, who always looked out for Matt, always offering to ask the teacher any questions that Matt had to take the heat off of him, to avoid any anxiety inducing feelings that Matt might have had. I can’t do it. I wouldn’t last a day without them. Any chance to avoid that outcome is one he would take, no questions asked.

x o x o x o

I should have asked some fucking questions. Matt’s heart pounded as he pretended to look at something on his phone, switching between his social media apps anxiously; not that any of them were bustling with activity, he just needed something to make himself look busy. She was here. I wasn’t prepared to see her. Holy fuck.

For the past four years, Monday through Friday, once the bell rang after the final class of the day, Matt had booked it for the locker room. Shuffling through a crowd of boys, shoving Chris (and getting shoved right back), listening to a variety of music through his headphones (mostly Kid Ink, Lil Skies, Mac Miller, and Post Malone), and throwing on his gear for lacrosse. Today, however, he sat awkwardly in the school library, leg bouncing, chewing at the skin around his pinky fingernail. His headphones tucked away in his pocket. No music to drown out his thoughts. Why didn’t I ask more questions? I can’t do this; I can’t be here with her. This can’t be happening. She…looks so pretty.

Across from him, a few tables over, she sat on the table itself, cross-legged and completely at ease. A light blue sweater hung off her shoulders, a pair of khaki cargos crinkled over her legs, worn-out white air forces, and a pair of hoop earrings rounded out the simple, gut-wrenching outfit.

Matt hated feeling this way. She drove him insane, and she had no idea who he was. That was a lie - they had a few classes together. Incidentally, those same classes glowed red in the gradebook. It didn’t take him very long to figure out why.

For the past four years, Matt had walked into school every morning hoping in equal measure that she had shown up and that she had suddenly become homeschooled. Every single class, he would stare at the door just hoping he’d catch a glimpse of her, whether she was walking into the classroom or just passing by in the hallway. He knew where to look for her in the hallways between classes, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel his heart rate pick up when he’d see her in the flood of other students chaotically herding through the halls.

Now she was his tutor. She was the reason he was failing, and she was his tutor. His counselor had no way of knowing, but she had just doomed Matt to repeat senior year. He was not about to sit down with that girl and make a complete idiot out of himself.

Lifting his backpack and hooking the strap over his shoulder, he got up and turned for the door. At that moment she looked up from her book, her eyes locking with his, and he froze.

Her hair fell softly along the edges of her face, and she looked at him with mild curiosity. Matt’s breath hitched in his throat. Years of her never even noticing me, and now she’s looking at me and…smiling. Oh god.

Don’t you dare fuck this up, he heard Chris whisper in the back of his mind. “Fuck off,” he muttered and began to walk towards her.

“Is this where I’m supposed to be for uh…” He didn’t want to say it. Normally people would jump in and finish sentences anyway to avoid uncomfortable silences. She did not. She just continued to look at him with minimal interest, her smile growing a little in amusement. Oh god. This isn’t happening. Somebody please pinch me. Or shoot me.

Matt felt the heat rising to his face, his breath catching in his throat as she stared at him. “Tutoring. I’m here for tutoring.”

She slipped a bookmark between the pages of the book she was reading and pulled a knee up to her chest. Matt caught a glimpse of the cover of the novel, furrowing his eyebrows a bit. A hockey player? I played hockey. Should I say that? Does she like hockey players? Lacrosse is like hockey… in some ways. Should I-

“You’re Matt, right? One of the triplets?”

Matt blinked. “Yeah.”

She smiled again, placing her book down onto the table. Icebreaker? Matt made a mental note to look that up later. “I think we share a few classes, right?”

“We have Socioeconomics, European Literature, and Chemistry together, and when Chorus comes into the auditorium to practice, I run the soundboard for you. You took Workshop with me and Chris, and I could never focus on a single project me and him had together. We had Math and Introduction to Culinary together last year, all of our electives the year before that, and in ninth grade you were in my home room and study hall. You’ve always been in my lunch block, and you like to eat out in the courtyard under the willow tree far away from the picnic benches. You’re in the photography and Yearbook club because you love to take pictures, and you also run the school’s yearbook account on Instagram. You never get breakfast because it hurts your stomach to eat in the mornings but if you forgot to have dinner the night before, you’ll go through the line in the cafeteria and get an old-fashioned donut and a cup of mixed fruit. You prefer peppermint gum over spearmint, you always wear shimmer lip gloss instead of clear, you chew on your lip when you’re thinking really hard, you write sloppily when taking notes, but your papers are written in cursive. You’re terrifyingly beautiful, and I’ve wanted to talk to you for four years.”

That’s what Matt thought about saying. Instead of opting for that particular route of social suicide, however, he simply went with, “Yeah, I think we have one or two together, right?” and sat his bag down.

Don’t fuck this up. You cannot fuck this up.

x o x o x o

“Ms. Coleman said you were behind in some classes,” she said, pulling out her laptop from her bag. “Which ones?”

‘All of them’, He thought to himself. Matt sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “What am I not behind in?” he mumbled.

She looked up at him through her lashes. Matt felt his stomach twist up in knots. He had imagined her looking at him like this more times than he could count. Usually late at night when he was in bed, his hand wrapped around his cock, his eyes screwed shut as he bit back soft whines and whimpers as his arousal leaked into his fist. He couldn’t help but feel his pants tightening around his crotch as filthy thought after filthy thought played in his head.

She smiled at him again, and Matt suddenly realized that she had been speaking. His stomach dropped. “S-Sorry, what?” he stammered. She laughed softly, a sound that made Matt’s heart leap up into his throat. “I asked if you could be a little more specific.”

Matt cleared his throat. “Um, Government, English, Socioeconomics, and Chem.” He looked down at his hands in his lap, the thoughts from earlier looming over him. I won’t graduate. Mom will be so disappointed. Dad won’t speak to me for a year. Chris and Nick will move on in life without me. She probably thinks I’m an idiot. Who the fuck fails almost every class in their last semester?

He could have sworn he felt his heart come to a full stop when he felt her hand on his shoulder, his head snapping up in an instant. “Hey,” she cooed as Matt met her gaze once more. “We’ll fix this. We have four months until graduation. You have time.”

Yeah, time to spend my afternoons drooling over you and retaining no information. Four months to sit here and gawk at you every fucking afternoon while my grades continue to plummet. Four months of me rushing home after these tutor sessions to beat off before Nick and Chris get home from their after school extra curriculars. Either way, I’m failing this semester.

“Why don’t we start with English, hm? I’m in that class with you, third period. We have a paper due on Friday.” She opened her laptop, pressing the power button repeatedly. Matt swallowed the lump in his throat – fuck. The paper… he was hoping to avoid it altogether. Sensing his hesitation, she raised her eyebrows. “Have you started it?”

Matt blinked. He licked his lips, suddenly noticing how dry they were. “...No.”

“Me neither,” she grinned, and Matt felt his shoulders relax. She had a beautiful smile, and it so rarely appeared on the Somerville High property, even less so in the classes they’d shared. It made him wonder what else he could do or say to make it stay for longer.

“It’s okay,” she continued, tapping away at her keyboard, urging the ancient relic to awaken and let her log on. “We can write it together.”

“Yeah, sure…together,” he said, taking out his own laptop, proud that he had enough focus to keep his hands steady. He wanted to make her smile again, but he hadn’t the faintest idea how. Matt also wanted to crawl into the floor and sleep for an eternity, but his wishes seemed to have no substance. His grades did, and more than anything, he knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he made Chris and Nick leave him behind. Punctuating his thoughts with a deep sigh, Matt pulled up the assignment rubric. “Three pages, double spaced - that’s not bad - third page sources cited…” As he scanned the page, she, still waiting on her dinosaur of a computer to come to life, leaned closer to him to see for herself.

Her perfume. Waves of vanilla with floral notes. Undertones of musk. It was strong but intoxicating. Matt used every ounce of self-control to not turn towards her and inhale as much of it as he could. She had been using this perfume for the past three years, and Matt had become obsessed with it. He was like a stoner catching a whiff of weed, he could identify it from a mile away. He could sniff her out like a bloodhound if he really wanted to. Matt begged his brain to behave.

It didn’t.

The aching in his pants grew. Matt pulled his hoodie down to cover his lap, he could not let her see what she did to him. He felt his face heat up as embarrassment flooded his brain. Still, his cock remained half hard and his balls felt heavy with arousal. Despite knowing how wrong it was, he wanted nothing more than to rub one out. Matt used every iota of his self-control to focus on puling the assignment up on his computer. One hour. I just need to get through this one hour.

x o x o x o

“How long have you been tutoring?” Matt wanted to know more about her. It was a near-feverish affliction that kept his leg bouncing continuously, releasing nervous energy at speeds that could power the entire city of Boston.

She didn’t look up at him, pulling up the assignment on her computer. “I started last year…gave me a chance to get out of Johnson’s eighth period. Do you know why you’re falling behind in Philosophy?”

Matt didn’t hear her question at all. The stickers on her laptop were incredibly distracting - he caught a glimpse of Homer Simpson, the Monster logo, a few Pokémon, numerous band logos, Marilyn Monroe, a sick vaporwave statue head, and a plethora of raccoons. I like raccoons. Now is probably not the best time to tell her that. “Huh?”

She glanced over through her lashes, and Matt felt his air supply vaporize. “I asked why you’re failing.”

Because you walk into the room and I forget how to speak my own damn language. Because I want to talk to you so bad, but my throat closes up when you look at me. Because when you smile it makes my legs heavy…But more than anything, because I want you in ways that I have never wanted anyone before, and it is all that I can think about. No matter where I am at or who I am with, you manage to take over every thought in my head. Movie nights with my brothers where I can drown out the movie, daydreaming of what you might look like waking up next to me in one of my shirts. Dinner with my family, wondering if you like whatever it is that we’re eating that night. In the shower, wondering what your routine is like. Late nights in my room, the door locked and the lights off, clothes discarded onto the floor, my hand tugging at my cock. You are always there. You’re the reason why I’m failing, and you don’t even know it.

Matt settled on, “It’s hard to focus in there.” Not a lie. But not even close to the truth.

She nodded. “She talks in circles sometimes.” A pause made his eyes dart up to hers, terrified that he’d missed something again. But no, she was…studying him.

Her head tilted slightly, and her hazy eyes rested on his. He wondered what she was thinking about, and something primitive in his mind was screaming at him to hide. He felt vulnerable, weak under her gaze. His cock throbbed. Matt did his best to bite back the soft groan that fought to escape his throat.

“I think you might just need a body double.”

He blinked.

She continued. “The classes you’re failing, those are the only ones you don’t have with one of your brothers or your other friends, right?”

Matt nodded, wondering how she could possibly know that. He bookmarked that thought for later.

“Well, your brain probably knows that they expect you to do your work, and you don’t want to let them down, so the work gets done. Not in English or History, apparently. So, I’m your body double. And I expect you to do your work.” She grinned. “It’s corny as fuck but you’d be surprised how much you get done. Ready to start?”

Matt decided to process that particular heap of information later. “Yeah, sure.”

“I’m sending you my sources. You know how to cite them?”

His brain couldn’t register her words. It all made sense, but his brain felt too fuzzy to put the pieces together. “Sources, right. Y-Yeah, I uh…yes.”

“Good boy,” she purred. Matt nearly choked, his dick now fully hard. There’s no way she just said that. She gestured to his keyboard, and Matt began to shakily type the name of the website he needed into the search bar. Maybe I just imagined it…It’s been a weird day. Matt could feel her gaze burning into his skin like the heat of a thousand suns. His heart was lodged in his throat, he had begun manually breathing, not wanting his breaths to sound too heavy or too short.

Her hands kept brushing his arm, and Matt realized if he wasn’t careful, she would notice the way his face turned a bright red when she touched him, or worse… she’d see the bulge that could barely even be hidden by his hoodie. He turned away from her, pretending to look for something in his bag. “I um…thanks.”

“Go ahead and read those, throw all the relevant information into a messy doc, and then let me know when you’re done, okay?” Matt looked up and she leaned once more against the concrete column behind her, earbuds in, typing away in her own empty doc for the same assignment. He glanced at the stickers on her laptop, eyeing the one in the dead center with the name of a band he had never heard of. I wonder what she’s listening to. Would she like my music? Would I like hers?

Pulling out his own headphones, Matt shuffled his own playlist, and tried desperately to focus on the article in front of him.

x o x o x o

Forty two minutes later (he counted), Matt finally reached the end of the mind-numbing wall of text. No closer to understanding what the fuck he was doing, he reached out to tap the table near her knee. Her cargos sported faded stitching on their edges, proof of intentional wear as opposed to fashion wear.

When the flash of motion moved into her line of sight, she looked up from her own article, brows raised expectantly and eyes locked onto his. “How’s it going?”

“Well…It’s not perfect but…it’s better than nothing right?.”

“Mhmm.” She leaned forward, staring at his screen. “One and a half pages? Atta boy.”

Matt’s face flushed, his lips parting to speak but silence was all that followed.

“Did you do what I said earlier?”

“Yes ma’am.” Where the FUCK did THAT come from?

She wrinkled her face, her lips tugging up into a smile. “Down, boy.”

Matt almost puked. A lightning bolt struck his lungs, and they withered in his ribcage. “Sorry- sorry,” he stuttered. He ripped his gaze away from hers, blinking rapidly.

She laughed softly, the ghost of a smile passing over her lips. Matt’s head shot up faster than he’d ever admit. “Little weirdo,” she muttered, turning away from him to put her laptop in her bag.

“Oh, are we-”

“Mhm. Bell’s about to ring.”

He blinked again, opening his own backpack.

“Give me your snap.”

“Huh?”

“Your snapchat. So we can talk about your assignments and schedule tutoring for sometime other than boy’s athletics.”

How did she-

“Wouldn’t want you to miss lacrosse.” She tilted her head to punctuate her all-knowing tone, and put her phone in Matt’s hand.

As he typed megamett_44, Matt reevaluated the entirety of his life’s choices, and hoped she’d just…ignore it. Or not see it at all, that was preferable.

Neither of those things happened.

“Mega. Mett. Forty four?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

“...Yep.”

“You, um…” She gestured, sarcasm beginning to drip from her lips. “You wanna explain?”

“No I do not,” he replied, grinning nervously, avoiding her gaze.

“Hmm…cute,” She smirked. Matt felt his heart swell and his pants tighten even more at the comment she had made, just barely crossing the line of being a praiseful remark. He wanted to ask more about what she meant; Why did she say cute? Does she think I’m cute? Was she just saying the username is cute? But before he could think of something, the bell rang, and in one fluid motion, she swung her bag over her shoulder and slipped off the table. “Later,” she hummed before she disappeared into a river of students escaping school grounds for the weekend.

Matt exhaled and slumped into his chair, hanging his head as he dropped his bag back onto the floor. The visible bulge under the fabric of his shorts and his hoodie taunted him, his mind raced, thinking of all the things he could have done instead of gawking at her and stuttering one or two words at a time in response to whatever she said to him. Matt ran his fingers through his messy hair. His cheeks remained a rosy pink. He rubbed his lips with his fingers, an anxious habit he had picked up over the years in a desperate attempt to help with his nail biting problem, though very little progress had been made there.

“I’m done for,” he said, nodding decisively. “Yep. This is the end of Matthew Sturniolo.” Matt looked down at his phone, numerous texts from his brothers flooding the screen.

Nick: where are you

Chris: where r u ?

Nick: why weren’t you at lacrosse

Chris: coach is not happy with you lmao

Chris: helloooooooo

Chris: the van is still here so we know ur here

Chris: unless 😏

Nick: enough

Chris: man come on nick is grumpy and bitching about the weather

Nick: it’s fucking sweltering out and i’m sweating bullets. I’d appreciate getting into the air conditioned vehicle that we OWN

Matt sighed and shoved his phone into his pocket. He looked around, making sure that nobody was nearby as he stood up. Grabbing his bag, Matt hurried out of the library and pushed his way through the halls to the nearest restroom.

Ensuring that the bathroom was completely empty, he slipped into the closest bathroom stall and locked it behind him. Matt quickly dropped his bag to the floor, lifting the hem of his hoodie up and holding it between his teeth. He pulled the band of his shorts down, groaning softly as the friction sent bolts of pleasure through him. He slipped his hand under the fabric of his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed as his hand wrapped around his shaft. He hummed ever so softly as he gave his cock a few strokes.

He opened his eyes, suddenly realizing what he was doing. No, this isn’t like you. This isn’t right. You don’t do this here. He pulled his cock up into the waistband of his boxers, dissatisfied above all else, but knowing he had to hide his unpleasant erection somehow. This was a new low for him. What kind of a creep can’t even keep it in his pants until he gets home? Matt pulled his shorts back up, dropping the hem of his hoodie from where it had been between his teeth. He stepped out of the bathroom stall, taking a quick once-over in the mirror to make sure he looked put together and not a flustered horny mess, before he slipped out of the bathroom, following the mass of students rushing for the exit out into the student parking lot.

x o x o x o

Matt saw Chris and Nick leaning against the edge of his car. Matt clicked the unlock button on his key, the vehicle chirping in response. Nick opened the door to the backseat, huffing something under his breath as he got into the car. “Where the hell were you?” Chris asked, slinging his bag into the back next to Nick’s foot, closing the door behind him.

“Library,” Matt muttered, clunking into the driverseat. Chris paralleled Matt’s actions, dropping himself into the passenger seat. “Library?” Chris repeated, tasting the word with furrowed eyebrows as he turned to look at Nick, expecting he might know more about Matt’s situation.

He did not. Nick scrunched his face. “Since when do you go to the library?”

Matt groaned. “Can we just go home.”

The other two didn’t ask too many questions after that. What normally would have been a debrief session of their individual experiences from that day while feasting on whatever fast-food place the three of them had voted on, was instead a deafening silence and a painfully tense atmosphere. Matt was secretly very appreciative of this, his mind was too scattered for him to hold a conversation with his brothers, never mind care about what they were discussing.

x o x o x o

When he collapsed onto his bed, Matt checked his phone, brows furrowed in surprise. He’d gotten a notification from Snapchat (a rarity), and his heart shot up into his throat when he saw who it was from. He tapped on the notification to see that she had sent him a photo of herself - her hair fell in waves around her face, and Matt could see the glint of her earrings. She wasn’t even looking at the camera, making the edge of her eyeliner effortlessly severe. Matt’s chest went aflutter, and he stared at that picture for a very long set of minutes. “Here’s my snap”, she had typed, and once he tapped out of the photo, Matt added her back.

But they hadn’t spoken past that.

He laid on his bed trying to think of something to say to keep talking to her, but everything sounded desperate and corny. He had so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask. He wanted to talk to her for hours, about anything and everything. He wanted to know everything about her.

As the sky darkened, Matt scrolled aimlessly on TikTok, then Instagram, then back to TikTok, avoiding Snapchat to the best of his ability. His mind refused to let go of her, and it was starting to piss him off. What is she doing? Does she stay home on school nights? Does she go out? What are her hobbies? Does she play video games? Would she play them with me? Does she like to read outside of school too? When does she go to bed? Does she like to stay up late? Does she go to bed early? Why can't I think of something normal to say to her?

Matt dragged himself out of bed, crumpling slowly to the floor. He leaned his head against the edge of his mattress and sighed - what a fucking day.

A knock at the door had him lifting his head from where it rested against the mattress. “Hi, honey.” Mom. “You eating dinner with us tonight?”

He stood up, crossed the empty floor of his room quickly, and pulled his door open. “Hey Mom.” Matt leaned into her, and Mary Lou slipped her arms around her son.

“Hi baby. Somethin’ on your mind?”

I’m failing.

I’m failing four classes.

You and dad would be so disappointed.

I feel tired and sick all the time.

I just want to go to sleep.

Graduation is in four months.

Nick and Chris are gonna leave me.

I’ll have to repeat senior year.

It’ll all be my fault.

The girl making me fail is the girl trying to help me pass.

I can’t focus on anything.

I’m so fucking tired.

“Just missed ya.” Matt sighed. He hummed when he felt his mother's loving arms embrace him just a little tighter. “I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

x o x o x o

A dark room. The brush of fingers over silk. A candle flickering shadows against the walls. The faint scent of vanilla. Pleasure flowing through his body. The buzzing hum of a vibrator. More waves of soft tingling flowing from the center of his body.

“Good boy…”

He sighed, lips parted, eyes closed. His hips began to shift upwards, slowly at first, pushing against the vibrator, aching for more. Instead, his leaking, rock-hard cock met a soft hand. He whimpered, digging his pelvis into the pillowy skin. “Awww…d’you wanna hump Mommy’s hand?”

“Yes…” he pleaded, his head lolling to the side, chest heaving. “P-Please, I-I... Please.”

Her fist began to slip around the head of his cock. “Please what?”

“Nnnghh…please let me hump your hand. I need it s-so bad, p-please, it hurts Mommy, I just wanna…jus wanna feel your hand around my…my…”

Another hand cupped his balls, silky-soft thumb rubbing spine-tingling circles over his pleasure-filled skin. “Hmm? What was that, pretty boy? Mommy didn’t quite catch that.”

“My cock, miss, I…p-please reward me…please, I-I’ve been so good…”

She smiled, amused by how easy it was to get him riled up. “Go ahead, baby. You’ve been such a good boy. You deserve a little treat, don’t you?”

Matt didn’t need to be told twice. His hips lifted, his jaw going slack as his shaft slipped through her fist with ease, her hand already sticky with his arousal. A whimper grew at the back of his throat, his hips beginning to buck up into her grasp. Erotic sounds filled the room; heavy panting, his wet cock slipping in and out of her grasp, the bed frame creaking ever so quietly, her quiet praises that she’d whisper to him. “Atta boy, you’ve got it,” she hummed, earning a sound from Matt that he hadn’t even known he was capable of making. A mix between a sob and a whimper, a sound that made her press her thighs together, her core aching for him. “That’s it, baby, hump Mommy’s hand. Doesn’t that feel good?”

His pace quickened, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he began to rut against her hand. His desire was primal. It was animalistic. The way he craved her, unlike anything he had ever craved for in his life. His balls, heavy with his arousal, slapping against her wrist as her hand reached the base of his cock with every thrust he made. His tip, swollen and pink, leaking with his desire. She could feel the way his shaft throbbed, practically begging for more. Her hand gently squeezed his tip, a guttural moan falling from his rosy lips.

He began to whine now, desperate pleas pouring from his lips like thick sweet honey. “I’ve been so good, I’ll behave, I promise, I’ll be s-so good for you Mommy, please let me cum, please, I’m b-begging you, please Mommy… y-you’re so sweet and g-good to me, I jus’ wanna make you happy, please let me make you happy…f-fuck!” White-hot liquid spurted from his tip, coating her hand and his abdomen as she continued to stroke his sensitive shaft.. “Mmmph…Mommy…f-fuck…thank you, th-thank you, mmph Mommy…thank you, y-you’re so good to me…”

Breathlessly, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking up at the beautiful girl in front of him. His gaze flickered down to her hand, his cock throbbing as he saw how much of a mess he had made. Ropes of thick warm cum coated her hand, and Matt couldn’t help but think of what it’d look like leaking out of her. He watched with a dazed and aroused glisten in his eyes as she brought her hand up to his lips. Obediently he licked his mess off of her fingers, paying no mind to the taste. He didn’t care, he’d do anything she wanted, even if it meant having the lingering taste of his seed in his mouth. Once her hand was cleaned up, he pressed kisses up to her wrist, trailing up her arm, keeping his eyes low in reverence.

She lifted his head with a finger under his jaw. “You’re welcome, baby. You did so good for me, hmm?” she murmured, kissing his forehead. Matt closed his eyes, never wanting to leave this moment. “Were you a good boy for mommy?”

Matt shot up in his bed and his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He pulled his duvet cover off of him, and in the dark of his bedroom he could still see his mess leaking through the fabric of his boxers. His torso was slick with a sheen layer of sweat. Despite having already finished, his cock refused to soften.

“Oh fuck me,” he snarled, rubbing his tired face with his hands. This is going to be the hardest four months of my life.

Tags: @mattsturniololoverr @oversturn @mattslolita @simplysturn @flowerxbunnie @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @cupidsword @liz-stxrn @sturniolosreads @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44 @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chriss @tillies33ssss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @breeloveschris @meg-sturniolo @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @xtravrgnoliveoil @ghostlythinggoingaround @rootbeerworshiper @querenciasturniolo @whicked-hazlatwhore @m4ttslvr @sturnioloblogs @mqttittude @bewtyschooldropout @taekwite @itzdarling

[haoboutyou]

my little graduand | choi seungcheol

fluff | 0.8k | no warnings

an: quite literally was checking my finals results when cheol went live so… i’m finally graduating soon!

You were stunned.

Staring back at you, the screen illuminating your face as it sat on the table, your laptop’s bright display shows a page you never thought you would receive.

FINAL EXAM – 70%

“I passed?” you softly muttered, unable to believe your eyes. You could feel your heart pounding. You moved your cursor to the corner, clicking ‘refresh’. It loaded for a millisecond before displaying the same unchanged page again. Still, in disbelief, you’re about to refresh your page again when your phone lit up, the special ringtone Seungcheol had set for himself blaring into the room.

You blinked out of your reverie, jumping at the sudden noise. You stared blankly at the phone a little while longer before finally moving to pick it up. A videocall, you noticed. Smoothening down your hair and propping the phone up, a trembling finger pressed ‘accept call’. A moment of suspense built as the connection was established, and then, there he was – your lover's face appeared on the screen, filling your world with his presence.

“Hi baby!”

Seungcheol’s bright voice greeted you. The warmth in his eyes and the genuine happiness on his face instantly bridged any physical distance that separated you. He was about to jump into the whole reason why he was calling you – he had some free time before heading to the gym – when he noticed in your shocked face.

“Baby? Love?” He waved his hand to elicit some kind of movement from you. Seungcheol was almost convinced your side of the call was hanging until he caught you mouthing something. Increasing his volume, he coaxed you to repeat your words.

“Cheol, I… I just checked my finals results,” you gulped. “I… passed? It says here i scored 70%...” you spoke in hush tones, as if afraid saying it out loud would change the reality of your grades. Regardless, Seungcheol immediately picked up on your words, clapping his hands in excitement.

“Really? Isn’t that a distinction? That’s great, baby! You worked hard!” His smile gradually widened, dimples growing deeper. “Congratulations sweetheart, you’ve graduated!”

“I get to graduate…” Your eyes widened at the sudden realisation.

“Right? You said this was your last module before you can finally graduate.”

Seungcheol tilted his head. He had been on the receiving end of all your complaints and rants about the classes. It was the one module in your entire degree that had the highest difficulty, and he was well aware of how anxious you had been over passing. He had watched you pull multiple all-nighters for assignments, cancel plans to cram study sessions. Hell, you even had his contact blocked when you holed yourself in your room to complete the online exam, only being able to contact you after the designated 3 hours. Needless to say, he had all the confidence in the world that you would pass this module, despite your own pessimism.

“I get to graduate…” You repeated, not believing your own voice. Realisation hit, and your hands flew to cover your mouth. Your eyes started to water, tears of relief threatening to fall down your cheeks. Your voice trembled. But even through the tiny screen, you looked like the weight of world has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Cheollie… I can graduate!”

“Yes baby! My love is a graduand!” He chuckled, before leaning towards the camera. His face took up all the space on the screen, nose scrunching in concentration.

“Are– are you crying?!” Although it’s through a videocall, his worried voice didn’t fail to warm your heart. You let the tears fall freely as you nodded, teary eyes blurring your sight of the phone screen.

“I’m just so happy… I’m finally done with uni, Cheol!” He simply shook his head in disbelief, laughing along when he confirmed that you were okay.

“Yes! My little degree holder~” Seungcheol gaze wandered somewhere off-screen, presumably a clock, and he cursed as he realised the time.

“I have to go baby, I’ll see you at home? We can celebrate together later!” he promised, adjusting his hoodie and gathering his things. “Love you!”

You sniffled in response and shot him a grin. “Mmh, okay. Love you too.” Just like that, you sent him a small wave and ended the call.

-

Seungcheol came home a few hours later, a small cake in one hand and your favourite alcohol in another. However, he found you fast asleep on the couch, no doubt trying to wait up for him. He placed the items in the fridge, then proceeded to gather you in his arms. You curled up into his chest as he carried you to bed. Setting you on the bed, he went to wash up before joining you under the covers. You instinctively reached out for him the moment you sensed him, letting out a satisfied sigh when he pulled you even closer.

Seungcheol took a moment to study your sleeping face. Your eyes were a little puffy, evidence of your earlier waterworks. One hand thumbed your cheek, tracing the content smile on your lips. He planted a kiss on your forehead before turning in for the night as well.

You’ll just have to celebrate tomorrow instead.

[mochinomnoms]

Since PTM!Yuu has magic, does it mean they capable of flying on a broomstick? Do they have to take remedial flight classes since they wouldn't have been able to take the class in their first year? As someone who is absolutely terrified of heights, I know I'd be absolutely terrible at it and would probably need extra lessons to get anywhere with it lol.

Maybe coach Vargas gets Yuu to do some after-school flight workshops (i think thats what its called?) along with none other than Jade. I can imagine Jade trying to act suave and composed in front of them whilst simultaneously trying not to fall flat on his face on the broom. Maybe seeing him out of his depth and floundering will help Yuu see that there is more to this big bad eel than meets the eye 🥰

Yes! They can, but their classes vary by semester, like in a regular college. For the sake of story, I'm having the potions class be a two semester course for the sake of plot and looking at it the same way you would with a thesis or dissertation can sometimes be spread over multiple semesters. I also like to think about the more logistics about how NRC and its classes are run and have a lot of headcanons that I put in PTM.

But for flight, I like to think that flight class is one of those basics that all students have to take at least their first semester. Then they have an option to complete a sports club for the rest of their mandatory credits or continue with general physical education with Vargas, which included flight.

If you do particularly bad, such as merfolk in flight class, you are required to take a remedial class in that specific subject. In Jade and Azul's case, they both have to take a remedial flight class, but Floyd is able to get around it by being in the basketball club.

The remedial class is less about getting a good grade (it's a pass or fail class) but more about demonstrating that you are able to do basic moves and exercises on the broom. If you do, then you get a pass grade, which allows you to graduate. In the fic, I have it set that the remedial class is paired up with an advanced flight class, which is meant for students potentially interested in pursuing Spelldrive as a career. For extra credit or as an honors project, those students can be paired with one of the remedial students and tutor them.

With all that in mind, Grim tends to handle the magic bases classes in the canon storyline, or it's implied at least. I think that since they're in their second year in PTM, they have at least one semester for Yuu to catch up and make up for Grim's grades. So while they're not yet at the level that they'll need a remedial class or workshop yet (and for spoiler reasons the Nurse doesn't allow for them to participate in rigorous exercise), they might in the future!

What I do think makes for a fun scenario is Yuu needing to go to the class to take pictures, as is their job still. So they take pictures of the students in flight class! And imagine their surprise when they really pay attention to Jade and just how bad he is on the broom. He's always so elegant, it's so funny seeing how hard he clenches the brook and stares at the ground the moment his feet leave the ground.

It's almost cute, seeing him so nervous. He never lets anyone see him like this, but even Jade has his moments of simply being a person, rather than a perfect right-hand man. He even manages to get turned upside down at one point, though he's barely off the ground he's wrapped his legs and arms around the broom like is life depended on it.

Yuu can't help but laugh at him and his expression, covering their mouth to feebly hide their laughs. Jade is mildly annoyed that someone is laughing at him, until he realizes just who it is. Now he's admiring the cute sounds leaving their mouth and considering letting himself be the butt of the joke for just a bit longer. At least until his grip slips and he falls on his back.

[lomlhwa]

better grades (c.yj)

pairing: professor!yeonjun x student!reader

preview: you're failing yeonjun's english class. you decide that, instead of studying and putting in more effort, you'll try a different way to get better grades.

tags/warnings: fem reader, power dynamic (sir is used), spanking, reader getting bent over yeonjun's desk, he's a little mean, degrading (kinda academic degrading oops), monster cock yeonjun, panties used as gag, overstimulation, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: sleeping with your teacher isn't great but this is college and everyone is an adult

wc: 1.2k

song recs for this fic: teacher's pet by melanie martinez, lolly by maejor, hot demon b!tches near u by corpse

a/n: if i was in yeonjun's class, i also would be failing because i would NAWT be able to focus

midterm marks have just been posted. the very thing you’ve been dreading all semester. you reluctantly open your student portal and check your marks. you’re passing every class except for one. english. a whole 35% in that class.

how are you expected to pay attention when your teacher is choi fucking yeonjun? the hottest teacher in the school. there’s no way anyone is passing his classes. yes, he’s a good teacher but no one can do anything but just stare at him. 

you close your computer and sigh. you don’t want to try harder in his class or study. you’re not the type of person to study for a class like english. but, you need this class to be able to graduate. you’re paying to be in this class.

you lay your head on your arms, collapsing onto your desk. “what am i gonna do?” you ask yourself. after a few moments of brainstorming, you come up with the perfect idea. 

you rush to get ready, knowing there’s only a few hours left of yeonjun’s office hours. you put on your school uniform faster than the speed of light and book it out of the house.

as you reach the school building, you slow down, catching your breath. you smooth your skirt down before knocking on your professor’s office door. you hear a soft ‘come in’ from the other side so you wander in.

“ah, y/n, how can i help you?” he asks, taking his glasses off his face. you smile at him before responding. “um, i just wanted to ask you about my grade, mr choi,” you pull up a chair next to him, folding your hands in your lap.

“i see. let me just pull up the teacher portal really quick,” he says, putting his glasses back on and typing swiftly. “y/n y/l/n…” he says, scrolling through the class list. “ah, here you are,” he clicks on your name. he tuts at you. “you’re failing my class, miss y/n,” he peeks at you over his glasses.

“i know, that’s why i’m here,” you gulp. he turns in his chair to look at your properly. “what are you gonna do to get this 35% up to the passing minimum? you have less than a half semester to get your grade up at least 20%, you know that?” you nod and he shakes his head. “how are you planning on doing that?”

“well, um, you know i’m not the type to study,” you shift in your chair, your skirt riding up. you watch his eyes dart down and back up. “and you know i’m not the type to hand in late assignments,” you undo the top two buttons of your blouse, not breaking eye contact. “i was hoping there was some extra credit i could do for you,” your voice is breathy but yeojun’s stoic expression never changes.

you can see all of his options flash over his eyes. he knows that sleeping with a student isn’t exactly moral. but, you’re just so pretty so who is he to turn down your advances? “i think there is something you can do for me,” he smile mischievously at you. “anything.”

he gets up out of his seat, staring down at you. “get up,” yeonjun orders. you jump out of your seat as if it’s on fire. he gives you a small smirk before forcing your body to bend at the waist and pushing your face against his desk. 

“you want extra credit? take what i give you,” he reaches under your skirt and pulls your panties down your legs. “step,” he says and you step out of your underwear. he leans over to see your face. “open that pretty mouth for me,” you open your mouth slowly and he stuffs your panties into your mouth. “be fucking quiet.” 

yeonjun flips your skirt up and runs his hand over your now bare ass. “so pretty,” he mutters. the sweetness is quickly replaced with pain when he strikes your ass with a hard spank. “how dare you fail my class,” he says, his voice is deep and raspy. he lands another hard spank before speaking again. “you sit in the front of the fucking class and you’re still failing?” he tuts at you again. “you’re fucking pathetic.”

you hear his belt clinking behind you as he takes it off. he doesn’t bother to take his pants and underwear off, only pulling them down to his mid-thigh. yeonjun runs his finger up and down your slit a couple times. “you don’t need prepping, right? you’ll just take it like a good girl,” he says, lining his length up with your hole.

yeonjun just stays there for a few moments, letting the anticipation build up inside you. you’re practically dripping down your legs at this point. without warning, he slams himself into your cunt, down to the hilt. his large size has you wanting to scream. you let out a small shriek that was thankfully muffled by your panties that were so lovingly shoved into your mouth earlier.

you can feel your stomach swell with his cock buried deep inside you. he draws all the way out of you before slamming back inside. you bite your panties so hard you worry you might bite a hole in them. he continues to thrust at an excruciatingly slow pace for what feels like forever.

randomly, he starts slamming into you at an animalistic pace and you grip the end of his desk so hard your knuckles turn white. your jaw goes slack and the makeshift gag threatens to fall out. your walls clench and and unclench rapidly, signaling that your high is approaching. “do you think you deserve to cum? with that grade?” you hear him sigh fakely. you nod your head desperately, barely being able to feign off your orgasm.

“you want to cum on your professor’s cock? hm? make a mess for extra credit?” he takes your panties out of your mouth so you can speak. “yes, please, sir, i need it,” you beg. his own orgasm is rising quickly with seeing how fucked out you look. 

“cum then, slut. earn your passing grade,” with finally earning permission, you let your orgasm wash over you. your whole body trembles and you try to catch your breath. his pace never falters and you start kicking your feet around. “i can’t… take anymore,” you bang your fist against the table, fighting off loud shrieks. 

finally, he reaches his high and finishes inside of you. you feel full instantly, your cunt milking him of his cum. when he pulls out, cum pours out of you. you breathe heavily, struggling to get up off the desk. you grab your panties and put them back on, having to walk back home full of cum. 

you head for the door and watch as yeonjun pulls his pants back up and sits down at his desk. “i’ll see you in class on monday, y/n,” he says, opening his laptop. you nod and head back to your dorm.

the next day, you check your student portal again. you open your english grade and smile. 60%. finally passing. 

© lomlhwa 2023

[yuri-is-online]

How do you think Yuu’s otherworldly education compares in common subjects between Twisted Wonderland and Yuu’s world? Would a Yuu being 16 influence if the prefect is ahead in any classes? I’m sure this would be dependent on the standard age for levels in a school system and what kind of school system we are looking at.

I’m going to use math as an example for my rambling. Math isn’t a skill that requires any magical knowledge as a background, so Yuu could theoretically be ahead in that subject. (I have no clue what math skills are required by grade in a Japanese school which NRC is partially based on.)

Using my high school as an example. Our math courses followed the track: Algebra 1, Trigonometry, Algebra 2, Pre Calculus, and then AP Calculus or AP Statistics depending on the year. A freshman could easily make it into a higher math like Calculus before graduating if that person started farther along in the track.

So a Yuu (from the 4 year system of schools) could have been approaching a higher level of a subject at 16. And if Yuu’s math skills were better than the level of a first year, I’m not sure a placement test would have been offered to Yuu since that would require effort from Crowley Grim’s level would have to be accommodated on top of fitting Yuu’s schedule with normal first year classes. Which would be such a disservice to Yuu, even if the class being easy gives more time for the subjects that need to be learned from the ground up.

I have thought way too hard about this. I am sorry for the rabbit hole and the asks being so close together.

- 🦐

No need to apologize for sending asks shrimpy friend, you always have the nicest theories. You can spam me if you please.

We know from a few tidbits here and there that grade skipping is allowed, but it depends on where you are in Twisted Wonderland. Given that the original intent for Idia was to have him be a child prodigy who had speed ran his way into NRC, I would assume grade skipping is allowed by the school board, but well. You have already hit on the tiiiiny wittle issue with Yuu.

Grim and Yuu's grades are averaged, if I understand what Crowely says at the start of the game and Crewel's vignette correctly. The idea was that since Yuu would automatically fail any magic based classes, Grim would pick up the slack there and Yuu would be able to help him learn practical life skills. Yuu being smart probably would help them, but their other half would still need to be brought up to speed about things like basic math before Crowley would consent to let them jump ahead a year.

You are correct that this would be a disservice to Yuu. Deuce's dorm uniform vignette has him struggling to solve simultaneous equations. Ace and Cater both list this as a basic math skill they learned in middle school, meaning they are excepted to know this, so a Yuu who was in something like Calc or AP Stats would be in a very advantageous position... but they still would need to teach basic math to Grim and keep on him so he did his homework for his other classes.

So the TL;DR:

No Yuu being more advanced than the other freshmen probably wouldn't help them graduate faster. It might help them educate Grim faster, but this assumes he wants to work which he does not.

Yes this is almost entirely down to Crowley not wanting to put in effort and his decision to count Yuu and Grim as one student.

If we are being honest it probably is more convenient for Crowley to have Yuu be a first year given the work he wants them to do for him. He gets to keep them around longer that way lol.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Over The Phone

Dad Bod!Professor!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Just... NSFW. So much NSFW. Phone sex, masturbating, sexy selfies, sexting, all that shit.

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: God this took forever to churn out but I finally got motivation to finish it!!

Taglist: @cupcakeinat0r @tojishugetiddies (if I forgot to tag anybody let me know, pls! I lost the saved list I had for people alshldhd)

Divider by @/across-the-art-verse

Miguel art @ meeee

The day had dragged on for what felt like far longer than usual for him; the usual students who showed up late, tried to sneak out, slept through the lecture or just ignored whatever he said.

The students who listened and actively engaged with the lesson were few and far between, and the almost silent lull between classes felt felt almost too short. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered, especially with the growing list of students who were disinterested in his class, or those that only signed up for extra credit and didn't want to do the work...

But, getting cards and thank-you post-its from students who felt like they wouldn't have been able to graduate without him kept him on in this tedium. He loved to hear from his former students about how their new careers were going--careers they credit hi to helping them achieve.

It never failed to make his heart all warm and fuzzy when he thought about them.

Miguel ran his hand across his beard, and a thought came to him about maybe shaving it off. He had grown it out; rather rugged if he had to admit it. But, he quickly shook that thought away--you loved his beard. Oftentimes he would wake up from a nap, you snuggled perfectly against his solid frame, your nails dragging through the short hairs with a content smile on your face.

Oh, he couldn't say no to you, his pretty little wife, could he?

Speaking of which... it was your day off. He couldn't help but wonder what you were--

When his phone pinged, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and unlocks the screen to see a text from you;

Hiii baby, how's work going?

He chuckled and replied, Same as usual. Only two students slept through class this lime

*time

Your reply was swift.

Awww I'm sry :(

If it makes you feel any better, if I were in your class... wait. I wouldn't get any work done either. I'd just be lookin at you :p

He laughed, his belly shaking a little bit as he grinned at his screen, his massive fingers fumbling the small keys once again on the too-small phone screen.

Yes, you would mafe a very door student, wouldn't you, amor?

*made *poor

Miguel rolled his eyes. He was tempted to try and see if they didn't make phones built for someone with his giant hands in mind... Damn this tiny screen!

Awww my Miggy gettin all frustrated?

Yes.

For what felt like too long, his message was left on "read". He quirked a bushy brow, scratching at his beard curiously at what was keeping you.

And then, his phone pinged again.

Here, maybe this'll keep you entertained ;)

*Image attached. Click to view.*

He hummed in curiosity. Maybe it was one of those silly little doodles you liked to send to him? One of your memes, maybe? Though, it didn't make sense why the image was blurred, when--

His heart lurched up into his throat and he instantly slammed his phone against his desk, screen down; looking around pointlessly as if he were worried someone was standing over his shoulder when the image finally cleared.

Cursing himself for acting like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, Miguel slowly lifted his phone to his face and looked at the picture you'd sent him.

You were nude, laying belly-down in your bed, the blankets askew around you. Your feet crossed one over the other as you smiled at the lens--you must have moved the full body mirror from the living room to your bedroom to achieve this shot--and your back was arched slightly to show off your bare ass.

He felt his cock twitch to life as he examined every pixel on the screen; wishing so badly he were home right now, to touch that soft expanse of flesh he loved so much. To cup your ass in his palms, feeling the warmth of your skin in his palms as his fingers massaged and groped the skin.

He could feel your hands slide up the soft pouch of his belly, scraping your nails delectably through the short, curly dark hairs that ran up his abdomen and covered his chest. He could feel your teeth scrape and tug his nipple before kissing your way back down...

Dios, mi amor. You're lucky I am not in the middle of a meeting! He hastily typed, pretending he wasn't practically salivating over that selfie.

Aw, didn't you like what I sent? :'(

I didn't say--

But before he could finish typing and send the text, he got another attached image from you.

He swallowed hard at the lump in his throat and his thumb hovered over the image hesitantly. He looked towards the clock above the door to his classroom. He had half an hour left...

When the image unblurred, he felt his heart damn near stop.

You were perched on the edge of the bed, your legs spread wide; one hand was holding your phone while the others spread you slick folds with nimble fingers and a cheeky expression on your face.

How bout this one?

Miguel groaned, loudly. He actually slipped a hand over his plush lips, cringing at how damn near pathetic that sounded.

He immediately clicked your contact information and hit "call".

The phone rang a painfully long, droning tone until your bubbly voice giggled on the other end of the line, "Heyyyy Miggy~"

"You are going to kill me, baby." He hissed into his phone, pressing the heel of his palm into his throbbing erection, "I'm in the middle of a school day! The students are at lunch!"

"Ohhh, did I get you all hard and excited for me?" You sigh dreamily into the phone, your voice dropping into a more sultry tone.

"Naughty boy, popping a stiffy in the middle of class."

He grunted, his head dropping back against his chair, the leather creaking under his weight as he tugged the ends of his button-up out from his rapidly-tightening jeans, "And whose fault is that?"

You gasp theatrically, "Mine? Oh, baby, I was just trying to provide you moral support, I swear!"

"Of course," Miguel huffed, eyeing the doorknob, waiting to see if he was unlucky enough that somebody were to walk in right as he pulled his cock free from his jeans, running his fingers over the swollen tip, smearing his precum around it.

He could hear in your voice, the way you were biting your lip in excitement as you spoke. "Baby, are you touching yourself?"

"You tell me, first." He replied, his voice strained as he gave himself a few tentative strokes; trying to gauge if the risk was worth it.

"Oh? Want me to tell you that I'm playing with my pussy?" You croon. "That I'm imagining you, and me, in bed..."

His teeth snagged his plush bottom lip briefly as he sped his hand up to your words, then slowed back down again. The friction wasn't right; too dry. So, he sucked on his tongue until he had a nice glob of saliva; bringing his hand up to his mouth to wet it before slicking his throbbing length up.

"Go on." He grumbled into the line.

"...ooooh." You giggled, your voice a little breathless. He could see you now, laying back on the bed, your fingers plunging in and out of you, pulling out to stroke your puffy clit; your pussy drooling into the blankets beneath you.

"Mmmm~ I'm also imagining you on top of me, my legs on your shoulders..."

He felt the oxygen squeeze from his lungs as he upped his pace, the vein in his cock throbbing and thumping in time with his rapid heart rate.

"Yeah, bebita?"

"Yeah." You huff, a small moan coming from you; "'m imagining you pinnin' me down, fucking a baby into me."

"Dios." Miguel groaned, thrusting his hips up to meet his fist. "You want a baby, hermosa? Want me to make you a mami?"

"Mhmm... want you to fill me aaaallllll the way up." You whined, your panting hot, even through the phone.

Miguel dared a glance up at the clock. Still had some time... He needed to do it quickly; needed to milk his cock so he wouldn't appear "improper" with a massive erection straining his pants.

As if enough of his female students (and even some of the male ones) didn't have enough difficulty paying attention in class...

He'd be lying if he hadn't gotten a few love confessions from students, present and former. He'd always politely turn them down, and then, if they were currently his pupils, politely and quietly have them sent to another class to avoid any improper behavior in the future.

It was as if none of them ever paid any mind to the gold band firmly secured to his ring finger--the matching mate to the one you wore on your own softer, delicate hand signifying your matrimonial bonds. Or... maybe they had and assumed they could tempt him from you.

Well, those assumptions were always wrong. The only person he could imagine bouncing on his cock, sucking it, milking it, stroking it--was you. You and only you.

Sometimes thinking of you when he was alone was the only ways he could get off, before you started dating. Even finding porn of a woman who looked like you wasn't enough. It had to be you.

And after the first time he felt your pretty pink pussy swallow his cock whole? Oh, he was addicted. Addicted and whipped, a few of his colleagues would say...

The professor and the school nurse; a bit of a cliche; but it was a nice one. The two of you had even played with a slutty nurse outfit or two.

You not always being the nurse...

"Fuck, Miggs, 'm so close." You whine loudly. He could see in his mind's eye how fast your fingers would be working your clit, maybe even giving in and plunging one of your silicone toys in and out of your tight hole for him.

In fact, he could imagine it so closely he could hear it.

"Shit, baby..." He hissed, his hand working his length furiously, now, almost in a race with you to see who would cum first. "You on speaker??"

"Mhmm~" You whine, your air leaving your body in wet-hot pants, the sound of your slick pussy being fucked--by your hand or your toy, he couldn't place--but the sound of it had his balls tightening up already.

"Gonna cum for me, mi amor?" Miguel huffed and puffed, more thick precum dribbling down from his tip. He smeared it over himself, using the fluid as lube to help hasten his impending orgasm.

"Yeah, baby~"

He snarled, the sound of stroking skin lewd and loud; your moans the best pornography his ears could ever be graced with.

"Cum for me, honey." Miguel whined, his glasses slipping further down his nose as he released his cock long enough to yank his shirt up over the soft, rounded edge of his tummy.

Immediately after, his hand returned once more around the thick pulsing shaft of him; stroking, tugging, milking himself like he knew your sweet cunt would. Your tight, wet, needy pussy that was dying for a drop of his cum.

As you wantonly moaned; he could imagine you splayed out in bed, legs wide and mouth open as you shout your orgasm out for him to hear, drowning out the outside world... and as his eyes would drift down, he could imagine your belly, cute and round; a baby kicking out at his hand as he caressed the stretched-out skin.

The image of you carrying his baby sent his mind into a blazing fire, the tightening in his balls and swelling of his cock too much to bear. Miguel arched his back, the wheels of his chair squeaking faintly across the floor as he curled his toes in his polished shoes, hot, thick ropes of cum shooting out to coat his belly, fingers, and even the underside of his desk; your name leaving his lips in a flurry of obscene prayers.

His mind was fuzzy as he slowly came down from his high, the sound of your giggle snapping him back to reality:

"See you when you get home, Miggy~"

The phone hangs up, and Miguel is left with his pearly white mess coating his belly, making his skin and hair sticky. At least he didn't get any on his shirt. This time.

The bell rang, suddenly, shaking him to full lucidity from his post-coital haze, his hairs standing on end and making him jolt up straight.

He hastily grabbed a few tissues from his desk drawer and began cleaning up, shoving a few stray stands of his graying hair back into place as he began to hear the chatter and footfall of students in the halls.

Oh, you would pay for this when you got home, all right.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for giving someone an ultimatum without letting them know and then ghosting them when they failed said ultimatum that they didn't know about?

This happened a while ago, but I still think about it occasionally.

So I (18F at the time) had a friend, S (18 FTM) in high school. (when this takes place) We weren't super close, as we'd only met senior year and would only hang out at lunch, since we had no classes together. We had a pretty average high school acquaintance/friendship.

Then on the Friday before finals/graduation week, S confessed that he thought I was cute and asked me out on a date. I said yes, as I had a secret crush on him but didn't act on it before, as I didn't want to ruin the friendship/make it weird. So I was glad my feelings were reciprocated. We cuddled and held hands at the rally that day (too nervous to actually kiss or anything in front of the whole school yet) and exchanged numbers with the intention of going on a date in the near future, as he couldn't go after school that day.

This is where I feel I might be justified.

After I got home, I texted him "hey we never actually decided on a day/time for a date. I'm free any time, when is good for you?" And we ended up deciding to meet up after school the following Monday. Then we spend the weekend texting about dumb shit.

Monday rolls around. I don't see S at school, but figured it wasn't a big deal, as we didn't actually have any classes together. After school, I wait by our agreed upon meeting place and he doesn't show up. I text him, asking what was up and he responds that he didn't go to school. He didn't feel like going, so called out "sick". (I'm not belittling his sickness, he literally told me that he wasn't actually sick, he just didn't feel like going to school and had his mom call him in sick)

For whatever reason (I was young? Dumb? Bored? Liked him? All of the above?) I forgave him for standing me up and told him we could go on a date whenever he was free and was able to get a ride or I could get a ride to his place if he wanted, as S lived in the next town over. (Neither of us had cars and public transportation in our area was not great)

Then he strung me along for an entire summer. We would text almost daily. (I use the word "text" very loosely- he exclusively used snapchat- I actually grew to HATE snapchat during this time, as he refused to text on the phone and insisted I download snapchat just to talk to him....bro wtf) We'd mostly talk about inconsequential shit- what show we were watching, what music we were listening to, etc. Every once in a while, I'd go "so...about that date...?" and he'd blow me off, making an excuse about not having a ride or something lame.

I gave him an out pretty early on. After the 2nd or 3rd excuse, I said "hey it's cool if you asked me out on a dare (it's happened before) or if you changed your mind or something. I swear I won't be mad, just let me know now so I don't waste my time" S insisted that he actually intended to go on a date, he just had transportation trouble.

This is where I may be the asshole.

So, after a whole summer (I think it was the end of August or maybe even September) I got fed up and decided in my head to test him secretly. I decided (without informing him of my plan, of course) that I was going to give him one last chance to take me on a date or I'd ghost him. I would ask him one last time when he was available to go on a date, and if he still made excuses, I would ghost him.

So I did just that. I asked him, he made some excuse about not having a ride, and I cut off contact. When I thought of this test, I had also noticed that lately, I would always be the one to message him first and initiate conversation, so I also wanted to test if he would contact me first, as a 2 in 1 test.

HOWEVER, I didn't block him. I just stopped contacting him first and ghosted him with no explanation. He could've contacted me at any point, but didn't.

I never saw or heard from him again.

I know he's the asshole for asking me out, standing me up, and stringing me along, but am I also the asshole for giving him an ultimatum without his knowledge and ghosting him?

What are these acronyms?

[sunlightmurdock]

The Odyssey | Prologue | Bradley Bradshaw (18+)

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Bradley wakes up in a foul mood, your ego takes a hit. A deal is struck to ensure that you’ll be able to graduate.

warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), will be smut, virgin reader, swearing, infidelity. warnings to be added on a chapter by chapter basis. 18+ minors dni, wc: 3.1k

…

Nine weeks into Spring semester, six to go. Six more weeks of having scalding coffee, missing tastebuds and a fucking freshman girl ranting into his ear all before the clock even hits 8am. Bradley’s sunglasses sit perfectly across the bridge of his nose, gold-framed Ray-Ban caravans that hide how late he was up last night. This means that sweet, little freshman Bettie O’Riley can’t see the look that he’s giving her as she jogs along to keep up with him.

Hallowed halls, filled with young adults that either reek of cheap beer or Daddy’s money, all signs would suggest that Bradley isn’t supposed to be here. Only thirty-three, sitting at that awkward age that makes him neither a frat boy nor a balding tenured ex-businessman turned lecturer. And yet, his brown leather shoes hit these aged floors every morning on the way to his first class of the day.

Beige, almost cream-coloured, wide pleated dress pants and an untucked blue shirt, rolled up at his forearms and missing the top button. His messenger bag draped from his shoulder, his tie balled into the hand holding the to-go double shot espresso.

Six more weeks until he’s in Italy for two months, teaching during the mornings, free as a bird in the evenings. Sun on his face, limoncello on his tongue; good books, women who don’t just giggle and twirl a strand of their hair at him. History. All funded by the Cornell school of Arts and Sciences. He damn near sighs at how badly he wants to be there now.

“Bettie, I already told you,” He sighs, adjusting the gold-framed sunglasses and shooting a look down at her and her wispish black, curled bob. “I can’t curve your grade, it was a C minus.”

She speeds up and steps in front of him, walking backwards now. “Please, Professor Bradshaw. I’ll do anything.”

Professor Bradshaw rarely draws a reaction from him these days. Only his bosses and parents call him that. He makes a point of scrawling it across the chalkboard at the beginning of each semester, but he’s usually still reminding kids a couple of weeks in to just call him Bradley.

Still, both he and Bettie O’Reilly know that it isn’t her method of address that makes him scoff at her. He stops walking and pushes his sunglasses up into the feathery brown curls that adorn his face, staring down at her like she’s even younger than she is. She swallows, regret flooding her. The other professors usually lean into the kind of virginal, good-girl, bad student thing that she’s got going on.

“Bettie,” Bradley speaks slowly for her, pink lips against tanned skin. Warm eyes against a cold stare. The hallways are full around them, standing stationary in the steady stream of students. “Don’t come onto me like that again. Study.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Alright, come to my office tomorrow morning, I’ll give you an extra credit assignment,” It’s more lenient than he should be with a girl who just propositioned him before he has even finished his morning coffee, but Bradley knows not to blame little Bettie. With those thick, rounded glasses and dark freckles, he knows that she gets a lot of attention from her other professors. The culture they’ve created in this school isn’t her fault. Neither is the fact that Bradley’s class is notoriously hard to pass. “We’ll talk through what an A grade paper should be looking like. Do me a favour and don’t talk to me until then.”

He steps around her and continues; she’s swallowed instantly by the sea of bustling students. In the run up to the end of the semester, people start showing up to class again as it hits them that their professors might actually fail them. There aren’t too many F’s floating around in a school like Cornell. Its stats are exceptionally high, especially these past few years. It would seem that, in a school like Cornell, a passing grade quite simply has a price tag on it.

Three minutes before his morning class is due to start, and having woken up on the wrong side of his bed, Bradley drops his sunglasses back down over his eyes as he strolls into the lecture hall. It’s surprisingly full for a Monday morning. The gossiping never stops when he walks in — he’s not that kind of teacher. He allows the whispering to continue while he sets up his supplies.

There are six people in this room that Bradley has not seen since the first week of class. Every single one of them has a parent that is a benefactor to the university. Front and centre, surrounded by a group of excitedly whispering, well-dressed young women, there’s you. He knows you vaguely, knows that you’re coasting on high B’s. He hasn’t seen you since January, you won’t be passing this class.

“God, look at that rock!” The blonde to your side fawns, grabbing at your hand and lifting it up towards the light to get a better look. Setting his sunglasses down on the desk, Bradley looks too. There’s a silver band with a big diamond on it around your ring finger. You’re beaming. Dressed in a white turtleneck and fitted blue jeans, Bradley’s got his assumptions about the family you come from, and the family you’ll be marrying in to.

You’ve been taking his classes for the full three years that he has been teaching here. He knows your boyfriend. Malcolm something something the third. Maybe fourth. His Daddy paid for the science wing refurbishment last year. Bradley remembers the night that your Prince Charming ditched you out in the snow, drunk out of your mind. You probably don’t remember that night.

“Good morning.” His booming voice obliterates the pleasant chatter coming from your friend group. You cross one leg over the other and look downwards at the glimmering rock on your finger.

Six more weeks until you’re out of this hellhole. An apartment in Manhattan all lined up and Mac’s place with his father’s firm long confirmed by now, it’s all coming into place. You’ll have a summer wedding at the end of August, and then you’ll truly begin your life.

“Tell me all about it! Did he get down on one knee?” Veronica nudges her white tennis shoe into yours and leans across to you, tapping her pen against the white-lined page of her notebook. Between the two of you, Catherine readies herself to take down notes that you’ll copy later.

A decent string of A to B grades and a diploma, that was the agreement, and then your life is all yours. That was all your father had held you to. You hadn’t ever promised to do something with the degree he had paid for.

Why would you? — Your mother hadn’t. She had studied literature, made friends for life, and met her husband. Then, she began her life. Having her children, shopping in the afternoon, tennis on the weekends. Bliss.

“Of course he did!” You confirm eagerly, leaning over Catherine to continue the conversation.

The first five minutes of a lecture determines everything. If he loses their focus now, then he might as well leave now and take an especially early lunch. He starts off with a quick reminder of their upcoming exam, and a nod towards last week’s discussion of Roman literature.

His attention is quickly diverted to the excited whispering happening six feet from him, right in the front row. Your friends aren’t bad students. You weren’t ever a bad student. It has just become clear that you were in college to find a husband, and now you’ve found one. Bradley’s eyes narrow in on you and your preppy, little friends, giggling at the front of his class.

Exhausted, overworked and underappreciated, Bradley stares at you calmly. You conversation comes to a slow stop as an awkward air of silence fills the lecture hall. He’s just standing at the front, staring right at you, waiting for you to shut up.

“Sorry, Bradley, somebody just had some exciting news.” Catherine smiles shyly at him. He knows her the best out of the three of you. She TA’d for him last year. Great girl, really bright future — to generous when it comes to grading. It’s because of his respect for her that he doesn’t jump to humiliating you right away.

“I can see that, congratulations,” His tone is dry, broad shoulders squared, his face unamused as he looks to you. You stare back at him calmly, giving a curt nod — less than polite in your mannerisms. “Now, if those of you that still have a chance of passing this class could please turn your attention back to me, we’ll give the blushing bride her moment afterwards.”

He opens the little brown, leather bound book in his hands and clears his throat, assuming that your rude interruptions are done for the day. Somehow, the awkward silence that sits heavy in the room grows to an even deeper low after you retort.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” Bradley deadpans, bored. You squint at him, six feet between the two of you and a lifetime of differences. Unimpressed by his joke, you roll your eyes right away.

Sitting there, you cross one leg over the other and sit forwards, frowning at him. He doesn’t fit in around here and you do, perhaps that’s where his problem with you stems from. Perhaps it’s the lack of ring on his own finger. “Why would you assume that I wouldn’t pass your class?”

As much as he knows of you, you know of him too — he’s supposedly a jackass. “Because you missed half of the semester. That includes two quizzes and a term paper. There’s no way for you to achieve a salvageable grade in this class.”

When you’re around Malcolm, sometimes he says things that are just so entitled that you’re wincing before he’s even done talking. He can’t help it. He means well. With the amount of time you’ve spent at his family home in the past few weeks, it’s no wonder that words you would normally wince at are spilling from your own lips, “I was planning a wedding, what do you expect from me?”

“Attendance.” Bradley snips. He raises his eyebrows slowly, waiting for you to pack up your pretty, coordinated stationary and walk yourself out of his class.

“But—“

“Goodbye, Mrs. Ashworth. Congratulations again.” Bradley speaks harshly, calling you by a name that isn’t even yours yet like it’s an insult. Like he’s better than you, somehow.

Your pencil slams down onto the half desk in front of you, eyes ablaze. Perhaps the first time you’ve ever been told no. “If you fail me, there will be consequences.”

The silence that fills the classroom this time isn’t awkward. It’s just anticipation, baited breaths, waiting for Bradley to lose his temper. He walks a few paces closer, close enough to smell the cherry scented perfume on each of your pulse points.

His eyes darken as he dips his head just slightly, meeting your gaze. “You’ve got me shaking in my boots, honey. Now, stop wasting my time and get the fuck out of my class.”

There are certain lines that a professor does not cross when working at an Ivy League. Swearing at the daughter of someone with more lawyers than Bradley has living family members, was not his brightest idea. Still, your father is an amicable man — he keeps on saying that — and he wants to work this out. Bradley gets to keep his job, you get to graduate. Everybody wins.

“Classics majors work closely with individual professors in their areas of expertise, often in small classes, and have many opportunities for independent research and travel,” Doctor Kazansky’s voice is calm, teetering on the edge of cold. It’s growing increasingly difficult these days to put up with snotty parents and their snottier children. “I’m sure you understand why attendance would play such a strong part in succeeding in such a major.”

Bradley braces himself against the radiator, glancing down at the watch on his wrist. Real Italian leather that a girl’s grandfather had made for him a few years back. He’s missing happy hour for this circus.

“Of course I understand, Doctor Kazansky,” Your father might as well be a parrot for how well he has learned to mimic tone. You cross your legs at his side and sit up a little straighter. The way you tense up at his voice is so routine, it’s almost Pavlovian. Bradley watches wordlessly. “Just like I’m sure that you understand that in this university’s hundred year history, it has never failed a member of my family and my daughter will not be the one to tarnish our impeccable reputation here.”

You glance up quickly, catching the look on Bradley’s face. He squints disapprovingly at your Charles Dickens villain of a father.

“What can she do to bring her grade up?”

Now that, admittedly, does come as a surprise. This isn’t the first meeting that Bradley has been called into where someone’s parent demands a better grade. It is the first where he hasn’t seen them resort to bribery before they finally blame their kid.

“She missed over half the semester,” Bradley answers perhaps too quickly, still hot from the way you had spoken to him earlier. He gives a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and looks at your father rather than you. “Two quizzes and a term paper. Even if I gave her extra credit, she couldn’t pull her average above a D.”

Your father’s face doesn’t react at all to this information. Instead, he turns his attention back to the Dean and rests his hands on the armrests of the chair, slowly raising his eyebrows.

“What about the Italy trip?” Doctor Kazansky looks to Bradley, sitting back in his chair. Bradley stares blankly back at him. “There were two empty spaces from what I remember. Is that correct?”

“For research assistants,” Bradley’s tongue drips venom, his brown eyes dark and his arms folded across his chest. You narrow your eyes at him, knowing that an insult is coming next. “She can’t research what she doesn’t even understand.”

“But, if she were to complete extra credit for the rest of the semester and then accompany you for your research, she would have enough credits to pass your class and then graduate.” Doctor Kazansky explains, more for your father’s benefit than Bradley’s. Bradley already knows this.

He grits his teeth, eyes darting across to you. His only solace is that you look just as dismayed about the proposal as he does.

“I’d graduate late.” You point out.

“Better than not at all,” Your father intercepts, pushing his chair back and standing. He carries himself like a man much taller than he really is. “Thank you, Doctor Kazansky. We’ll be in touch about this research opportunity.”

“You can’t just choose to do it, there’s an application process.” Bradley’s tone is far from professional, it’s downright snarky by this point. He doesn’t care. He can’t imagine anything worse than lugging a brat like you around Italy with him for two months, just for you to fail anyway.

You stand to follow your father, ditsy white loafers on the dark oak of Doctor Kazansky’s office floor. Bradley remains where he is, leaning back against that wall with his arms crossed.

Your father smiles across at Bradley and then shoots a look back towards the Dean. It’s smug, knowing. That process doesn’t apply to him. “We’ll be in touch.”

There’s a final look shared between you and the oaf that just cost you your summer in Manhattan — the first time that the two of you have agreed on anything, a silent exchange. Neither one of you wants you to join him on that trip.

He watches you leave, following blindly after your father like a child, then whips his head around to his boss.

“It’ll be good for her, maybe you can actually teach her something.”

“My expertise unfortunately lacks when it comes to setting the table by seven sharp and getting the kids to bed before her husband makes it home.” Bradley scoffs, pushing himself away from the wall and shaking his head as he straightens up.

“Is there something offensive to you about a woman being a homemaker, Professor Bradshaw?” Thomas Kazansky has two daughters. One, is a wife with two beautiful children of her own. The other, is a doctor. Bradley’s been over to their house a few times and he knows that Tom makes a point of it to be equally proud of them both.

“Oh, give me a break,” Bradley rolls his eyes at the notion, despite the subtle truth it holds. He shakes his head. “She deserves to fail and you know it.”

“Well, we’ll see how she does at the end of summer. I’ll be the first to admit my defeat, if she fails.” Tom gives a small smile and a shrug of his shoulders, always too calm for his own hood these days. Apparently he has mellowed with time, Bradley hears that he used to have quite an attitude in his early career.

Pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, the younger professor tries to stare his boss down. Tom knows how much these trips mean to Bradley, he takes his work so seriously. Still, Tom just stares back at him, calm.

Squinting, it takes a few moments for Bradley to give up. He turns and growls in frustration, letting the door to Doctor Kazansky’s office slam behind him. His shoes echo through the halls as he storms out of the building and across the quad. Not even Bettie O’Reilly would dare to interrupt his when his face looks as stormy as it does now.

He shrugs his bag off of his shoulder and throws it into the back of the bronco, then shoves his hands into his pockets in search of his keys.

“Do you even understand how hard I have worked for you to have the opportunities that you have had?”

Bradley glances up. He isn’t surprised to find that you’re the one being yelled at. He almost snorts — good, it’s about time someone reigned in that attitude of yours.

You stand, tearful, at the side of your father’s expensive Porsche, your head bowed in shame. Bradley unlocks his truck and pulls himself into the driver’s seat. He figures you probably cry a lot when someone’s telling you no.

“I mean it! — If you ruin this opportunity, don’t even think about coming back. Hopefully Malcolm’s family like you, because they’ll be all that you’ve got, I swear.”

Bradley turns his head slowly. Swallowing to keep from sobbing in the parking lot, shame burns through you as you meet his gaze. Your father towers over you, demanding to know if you’re even listening to him.

Bradley turns the engine on, his brown eyes looking decidedly less scary when he isn’t glaring at you. There’s something else. Maybe it’s pity — you aren’t used to that. He turns his head away and reverses out of the spot.

…

Tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @sunflowerziva @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @bradshawseresinbabe @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @sheisanangell

[zeruby16]

reasons to love studying- kim taerae

18+ MDNI

genre: smut, fluff, romance

summary: when you find yourself in the need of a tutor, matthew recommends his close friend, kim taerae. you finally figure out some way to like college algebra.

word count: 3.2 k

warnings: afab! reader, switch taerae; usage of pet names (sweetheart); cursing; oral sex (giving); fingering; penetration; protected sex (always use protection); slightest degradation kink; please let me know if i missed any

notes: i did not grammar check this, so please have mercy. the ending might be a bit rushed because i wanted to find some way to finish this imagine. please enjoy!

REMINDER: 18+ MDNI

school was never your forte.

you depended on websites for homework answers and decided how c’s could still get you a degree, so you lived your life carelessly.

however, there was one minor bump in your plans. you couldn’t pass college algebra. 

you took the class three separate times and dropped it before you could fail. being a fashion major, you never anticipated anything dealing with numbers unless it was measurements, but here you were.

the amount of drops allowed had caught up to you and the last class you needed to graduate was college algebra. there was no way around it, you needed to take the class and pass with a c or higher. 

you had to graduate college if you wanted to go on and own your own boutique. the thing was you tried taking college algebra seriously, but nothing worked. you needed genuine help.

“why don’t you hire a tutor?” matthew, your closest confidant and first hand witness to your hatred of math, asked.

“i’m a senior trying to pass a freshman class, it’s embarrassing if i hire a tutor,” you sulked.

“it’s the only option left if you want to actually understand the class,” he pointed out, making you sigh in response as he was sadly right.

“i just don’t want anyone to know, it would ruin my good rep,” matthew rolled his eyes.

“you ruined it the moment you presented in speech visibly hungover,”

“in my defense, she said presentations were a huge part of the grade and no excuses could be used unless given by a doctor. she got what she asked for and i still got a b,” you shrugged towards matthew and saw the glint of actual disappointment in his eyes.

“you know what, i have a friend who works in the tutoring center. maybe he’ll be able to tutor you privately without others knowing,”

“is he cute?”

the canadian looked at you begrudgingly, “is that all you care about?”

“no…”  

“you’ll see for yourself, once i convince him to take you in,”

“take me in? what am i? a lost cause?”

“at this point, you are.”

what matthew failed to tell you was that his friend was taerae. 

the kim taerae. the vocal prince who made rounds around the university for his angelic voice and radiant smile. the cutest being you’ve ever encountered and now your tutor.

you considered canceling on him as you felt like your focus would be towards the attractive boy, but you didn’t want to cause any trouble. 

he managed to find time after his vocal class to schedule you in. he was willing to come to your dorm, so you could study privately and avoid being seen by other students. it came at a cost to you, but you appreciated how much he helped.

you pulled out your textbook and notes as you finished tidying up your desk. your dorm wasn’t a mess, but you two needed a workspace. once you heard a knock on the door, you stood still for a second, mentally preparing yourself to bathe in his presence.

the boy knocked again and you rushed to the door realizing how long you had left him standing there. you opened it to taerae’s charming smile as he had his glasses on and held his bag on his shoulder.

“y/n, right?”

“yes and you are taerae, matthew told me about you,” you smiled as you gestured for him to come inside.

“i can’t thank you enough for agreeing, i really never saw myself in this position,” you nervously scratched your neck as he placed his shoes near the door and his backpack on the floor.

“it’s no worries, algebra isn’t the easiest subject,” he politely understood your concern.

he looked towards your desk and pointed at your textbook and journal, “i assume this is the work you’re struggling with?”

your eyes widened as you realized how there was only one desk chair.

“oh yes, let me find you a chair!” you frantically looked under your bed for the extra chair you knew you had while taerae chuckled at your antics.

“thank you, let’s get started shall we?” 

taerae was phenomenal at his job. he fully taught you the concept of exponential equations and how they were solved. he explained how to graph and solve for the equations. 

better yet, he looked hot as hell as he did it. 

you comprehended what he said and how he did things, but you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes would wander off to his lips, his nose, or the little pieces of hair that fell in front of his face.

thankfully, he was oblivious to your eyes, but when he neared you to point towards a graph in your textbook, your heart rate soared and you were slightly turned on.

“okay, think you can solve a problem now?” taerae asked, turning his face towards you as you distracted yourself with your textbook to calm down the butterflies in your stomach.

“yeah, totally,” you gulped, writing down the equation he wanted you to figure out.

you figured out the x-axis of the equation, plugging in multiple numbers to confirm your answer and proceeded to write it down as an answer.

“good job, now try graphing it,” he encouraged, pulling out a loose sheet of graphing paper near him.

you drew the lines and plotted your points, but hesitated to draw the function.

“what’s wrong?” his eyebrows furrowed at your resistance.

“i can’t tell how to draw the line,” 

“well since the equation is in a fraction form with an exponent, is the slope positive or negative?” he asked as he came closer next to you to point towards your work.

your heart nearly stopped. his shoulders were touching yours and his arm brushed yours as he moved it to help explain the equation.

you could smell his mahogany scented cologne. you heard his breath as he rambled on about slopes and solutions.

“is it a negative slope?” you questioned your answer while taerae nodded enthusiastically. 

“you can see it forming too, so connect the dots downwards and make sure the line doesn’t touch the x-axis.” 

the pencil in your hand magically moved itself, drawing out the line he told you to. once you placed your pencil down, you stared at the question for a second to distract yourself from your thoughts.

“see, that wasn’t too hard was it?”

the problem wasn’t hard at all. you actually understood after he explained, but he was making you flustered and you couldn’t conjure any thoughts. 

“are you okay?”

“what?” you jumped a bit.

he laughed at your clumsiness, “you seemed a little spaced out. did the problem make your head hurt?”

you waved his idea off, “no, it wasn’t the problem! you explained it well!”

he leaned back on the chair and crossed his arms, smiling mischievously.

“what was the problem then? you hesitated answering the graph section,” your eyes widened at his observance. 

“oh that- i just forgot slopes for a second,”

“are you sure?” your heart rate picked up as he sat upright on his chair.

“definitely,”

“nothing’s bothering you?”

“nope,” he looked at you suspiciously. 

“okay then,” he surrendered to your delight, “let me write up another problem.”

he took the pencil and wrote down an equation for you to graph, handing the pencil back to you once he finished.

“give it a try,” he gestured towards the paper and you switched your focus onto it.

you stared at the problem confusedly, realizing it seemed impossible to figure out.

“this is solvable right?”

he nodded playfully, “what you suddenly forgot how to solve for x?”

“no, i just can’t focus,” you mumbled. 

you were flustered, he could tell, and you knew for a fact this problem had no real solutions.

“you what?” he leaned towards you, trying to hear you once again.

“i can’t focus!” you frustratingly yelled.

you looked at him to see him smiling sheepishly.

“it’s adorable how riled up you get,” he bluntly stated.

“what do you mean?” you panicked, slowly coming to the realization that you were fucked.

he turned his body to face yours and placed his hand on your thigh gently, sending shivers down your spine.

“did you think i wouldn’t notice the staring?” he caressed your thigh as his voice slightly deepened.

“i wasn’t staring!” you protested.

“sweetheart, you were fucking me with your eyes,” his words went straight to your core.

“i-i-”

“now, i’ve got you speechless. how cute,”

he lifted one of his hands from your thigh to your face as he caressed your cheek. you avoided his gaze, not wanting to fall deeper into the hold he had over you.

“if i checked your underwear right now, would it be soaking?” he placed his hands down to open your legs, placing his thighs in between them to prevent you from closing them.

“n-no,” you let out, earning a deep chuckle from him.

“you are just a liar, aren’t you?” 

“liars deserve punishment, don’t you think?” he seductively asked, biting your lips nervously, you disagreed.

he took his thighs out of yours and stood out of his chair, you followed his every movement as he stared down at you.

“can you stand up sweetheart? i think it’s time we switch seats,” you immediately stood up and moved out of the way for taerae to sit on your rolling chair.

he sat down and rolled back, patting his lap afterwards. you hesitantly placed yourself onto him, feeling the tent popping out of his pants. 

“here’s what we’re going to do, you are going to answer the next five questions. if you get a single thing wrong, i’m going to stop,” he commanded.

“that’s not fair,” you whispered under your breath, knowing how he would make you lose your focus.

“what’s that?”

“nothing,”

“it’s either that or you get nothing at all, do you really want that?”

“no!” you whimpered, accidentally grinding yourself on his lap.

“exactly, now start on your problems,” he placed his hands on your waist, keeping you still.

you shut your eyes, thinking the action would get you to concentrate on your work. the first problem was the easiest. it was too good to be true.

once you got to the second problem, you felt taerae’s hands moving your waist slowly over his clothed hardon. you whimpered, realizing how difficult the next four questions would be.

you finished the second problem and went to the third, while taerae started to kiss your neck feverishly as a reward. you felt him biting lightly, knowing he would leave marks for the next day.

the real problem came when you got to question number four. taerae had stopped moving your waist, but held it with one hand while the other undid your shorts. 

you looked at the graph, trying to figure out the slope of the function and getting closer the answer, until taerae’s finger grazed over your clothed core. you shivered from pleasure as you placed one of your hands on the desk to get ahold of yourself.

“focus,” he growled into your neck, continuing to pepper it with kisses. 

he kept on rubbing your clit over your underwear, while the hand on your waist started to make its way under your shirt.

you continued the problem, moaning softly at his ruthless teasing. you sighed in relief as you drew the line of the graph and made it to the fifth question.

to your demise, taerae took it as a sign to place his fingers past your underwear and feel your heat.

“you’re soaking,” he scoffed. 

“you don’t even deserve this much,” your whimpers drowned out any thoughts involving math.

“finish the question,” he demanded, proceeding to slip his finger into you. you moaned at the action, accidentally scribbling a line on the graph you were trying to work on.

he moved his finger at a rapid pace, while you tried to finish the last part of the question. you gripped onto the desk as if your life depended on it and muffled your moans. you were bathing in pleasure as he kept going with no stops.

once you placed the pencil down anxiously, taerae looked over your shoulder and took his finger out. you looked at him with dismay, complaining about the emptiness until he smirked.

“what’s this line?” he pointed, using the finger with your juices coated in it.

“an accident! i scribbled it when-”

“don’t care, you got the question wrong,” he concluded.

“but i didn’t mean to write it! this is the line-” you protested, trying to convince him to spare you.

“sorry sweetheart, i told you liars deserve punishment,” he started to lift you off of himself, his tent still showing.

“but-”

“but what?” he looked at you expectantly and you suddenly gained confidence as you dropped to your knees.

“i can help you,” you mentioned, starting to palm his hard-on. 

his eyes closed behind his glasses in pleasure as you continued to move your hand over him. 

“you think you can get away with lying by making me cum?” he tried to clearly say, your eyes staring right into his as you unbuttoned his pants.

“please?” you begged, hands starting to touch him over his underwear.

he hesitated in answering as you proceeded to pull down his underwear and grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip. you kept stroking him, spitting on your hands at some point.

“i just want to thank you for helping, isn’t that fine?” you teased, placing his tip into your mouth and rubbing your tongue over it.

“fuck!” he groaned, placing his hands on your hair to grab ahold of you.

“you haven’t said it’s fine,” you scolded, stopping your movements.

“okay! just don’t stop!” he begged and you smiled, continuing the motions you went through before.

taerae was thick, so consistently moving your mouth on his cock proved to be a challenge, but with his hands guiding you, he neared his orgasm.

“god, you’re doing great y/n,” he praised, groaning as he found your eyes. 

his moans sounded beautiful as he let them out frequently and you fastened the pace of your mouth.

“holy shit,” he moaned, cumming in your mouth. you cleaned all of his cum off, swallowing the contents.

you looked at him dazed. he could cum again at your fucked out state. your hair tangled from his grip, your mouth glistening with his juices, and your eyes dilated at the pleasure.

he grabbed your chin and lifted your mouth towards his, pulling you into a feverish kiss. the kiss went on heatedly as you two fought for dominance, taerae winning as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. you went on until you pulled away breathlessly. 

taerae patted your head, picking you up from the floor as he smiled.

“only because you’ve been a good girl,” he said, pulling you towards the couch adjacent to your desk. 

you followed him, deserting the algebra work he came to help you with.

as much as you wanted to pass college algebra, you needed kim taerae to fuck you more.

he grabbed a condom from his backpack before he sat himself down on the couch, slipping it onto his cock. he proceeded to take off his shirt as he openly checked you out.

you removed your shirt as well and unclasped your bra, showing taerae the handprints he left from grabbing your waist earlier.

you faced him as you sat on his lap and grabbed his cock to line it up with your core. he pushed into you slowly, bottoming out and letting you adjust to his length.

“how are you so wet, yet so tight?” he groaned as you placed your head on his shoulder.

“cause you didn’t fuck me earlier,” you muttered under your breath, wanting to rile up the boy.

taerae placed his hands on your hips and stopped your motions.

“what did you say?” he looked at you expectantly.

“nothing,”

“you’re lucky you’re getting to ride me, consider this your last warning sweetheart,” his hands guide your hips and you start to ride him at a fast pace.

his name came out of your mouth so easily, if only you could answer the questions left on your desk the same way.

his motions fastened as well as he felt you getting closer to your climax.

“taerae please,” you begged, trying to bounce faster as he continued to hit your spot mercilessly.

“you’re taking me so well sweetheart, tell me did you ask for my help just to fuck me?” his voice lowered as your eyes closed in pleasure.

“no, i-” you couldn’t get any words out of your mouth, “i needed help.”

“are you sure? what did i say about lying?”

“i promise!” you yelled, not caring about your neighbors. as long as taerae was the man you were with, you wouldn’t shut up.

“i’m so close,” you cried.

tarae continued his motions, adding a finger in between your bodies to stroke your clit. your moans became louder and the only words left you could say was his name.

“go ahead, y/n, come like the dumb slut you are,” his words pushed you towards your orgasm, resting your head on his shoulders afterwards.

he kept pushing himself inside of you until he came again, groaning your name.

you two stayed in your positions until you heard taerae chuckle.

“what’s so funny?” you slightly pouted, looking at his cheeky smile. 

“i’d never thought i’d be tutoring someone as gorgeous as you,”

“shut up, you’re only saying that because of the position we’re in,”

“no, i’m serious.”

he grabbed a piece of your hair from your face and pushed it behind your ear.

“every time i saw you around campus, i would secretly pray about you needing help. i even told matthew about it,” your eyes widened.

“so matthew asked you to tutor me because you found me attractive?” you claimed, looking at him suspiciously.

“maybe,”

“i really didn’t think it would get to this point,” he added.

“well i never hid my feelings for you from matthew, so i guess we both lucked out.”

taerae let out another one of his adorable chuckles and placed his forehead on yours.

“we seriously need to get you to study again, you learned nothing from this session,”

“it’s not my fault you’re hot,” you lifted your hands to your defense.

“how about this, after we get dinner next week, we’ll have a productive study session?” he suggested, your cheeks were tinted with pink.

“are you asking me out, taerae?”

“yes sweetheart, i am. unless you only want to stick to-”

“no! i want to go out with you!” he laughed at your rushed response.

after you two rested for a while more, taerae pulled out of you and threw away the condom in the nearest trash can. he also prepared towels for you and cuddled with you on the couch until you fell asleep.

matthew was not one bit surprised when he knocked on your door the next morning to find his friend sound asleep on your couch.

you could care less though because in your last semester of college, you finally found a reason to like studying. 

a/n: thanks for reading, sorry for any grammar mistakes

@zeruby16 on tumblr | est. 2023

[kumabeom]

this love - kang taehyun

letter 1 ; in which you took my breath away , my future princess

synopsis: what happens when soccer player!kang taehyun, who isn’t focused on school but is smart enough to pass, sees yn walk in the hallways nearly everyday after homecoming. taehyun’s new hallway crush begins to grow into something bigger, but what happens when he has to make a choice between yn or continuing to fail school ? will taehyun be able to focus on sports, classes, and trying to win yn over ?

taehyun carried his lunch tray, slightly icky looking food. but taehyun was quite hungry, he was sure he could devour the meal that sat on his plate even if it didn’t look or maybe even taste all that appetizing. he walked behind his friends, following yeonjun to their circular lunch table, chatter filling the large room.

you, on the other hand, were surrounded by your lovely friends. just getting in the lunch line, wide smiles written down on your face. excited to get closer and closer to the rather lovely smell of the food. while most seemed to either like or dislike the food, you had a somewhat biased opinion due to your hungry nature especially as you lacked any kind of food in the morning. you did eat breakfast… but it wasn’t the typical eggs and bacon with a side of stacked pancakes and fruits that your classmates seemed to consume nearly every morning. to be fair, you didn’t mind, as long as you had some kind of nutrition in your body for the morning.

you walked with your friends, waiting patiently and observing the way that sunghoon tried to sneak his way further into the line, until he noticed that you weren’t following behind him, returning back to you.

“oh yn ! how do you think you did on the econ test ?” ning ning sneakily questioned, trying to keep an ear out to hear if you’d give off any answers.

“ooh ! actually i was pretty nervous for it, but it was pretty good. she even gave my class an extra credit opportunity !” you grinned, talking to your friends about all the class work that you had achieved throughout the morning, claiming to have had a rather productive morning.

taehyun had a small smile on his face, taking a seat in between yeonjun and hueningkai, across from him sat soobin who stayed silent. it was a normal day for taehyun, feeling a bit more positive than other days as he felt quite excited for a game night that he had in a few days.

“oh! taehyun, coach said that he wanted to talk to you.” kai broke the silence, looking over at taehyun as he began to eat his food. “he didn’t say what for, but i think it was pretty important because he seemed kind of upset.”

“hmm..? that’s weird, i haven’t done anything wrong recently..” taehyun pondered, mindlessly going back to the food tray that was right in front of him.

taehyun continued to chat with his friends, ignoring the slight worry that rested on his mind. he might’ve seemed like he truly had no idea what was happening or what his coach wanted to talk to him about, but in reality, he had a slight knowing feeling in his gut…

the bell rang, notifying the students to return to their respective classrooms. a few more hours left before everyone would be graced with the news that they were allowed to go back home. taehyun kept a brave face on, making his way to the gym, catching the attention of his coach, who was supervising his own students.

“taehyun, huening kai told you to come ?” he asked, not making any sort of eye contact with him. keeping his eyes on the game of dodgeball that his students were keeping him entertained with, slight anger detected in each throw of a ball.

“yes, coach, you needed to see me ?” taehyun questioned, a bit of nervousness in his voice. looking over at where his coach looked off towards.

“y’know you’re failing all your classes ?”

“uhmm-“

“and you’re graduating this year, aren’t you ?”

“yes-“

“how are you going to graduate this year if you’re not trying at all in your classes taehyun ? i’m supposed to encourage you to study, and you should.. because taehyun, if you don’t get your grades up as soon as possible.. i won’t hesitate to put you on the bench for the rest of the season.”

“but-“

“no buts, taehyun, get your grades improved, and if you need help then great because i have the person just for you.”

©️kumabeom

this love taglist : @run2seob @soobadooba @soobnuuy @pockychuwu @crazynyctophilia @rencarnationofangel @esther-kpopstan @mrsyawnzzn @matcha-binz

an : heheh this love has officially started !! 🤭🤭

[boundbyeclipse]

“does it make you nervous when i stare” WITH KIRK LORD PLEASE

hungry eyes

genre : smut

word count : 1982

tags : friend!kirk, female!reader, some swearing, rough!kirk, fingering, choking, cum swallowing, public sex, unprotected sex

from the prompt list : 1. “does it make you nervous when i stare?”

a/n : almost ended up with 2k words with this one (and that's crazy). so far this is the longest metallica fic i have written, and i am so happy that i could pull off a longer one! happy reading, i hope that it's good! x

You have had a massive crush on your close friend Kirk for quite some time now. Ever since you graduated school, you both signed up for guitar classes and attended them together. Four days a week, he would knock on your door and wait outside before catching a bus for a ride to the studio. Four days a week, Kirk would walk you home and make sure you were safe and sound, even if it was still light outside. This choice not only made you two grow closer, but also sparked something more. But neither of you were able to understand and grasp onto the way you felt, having all the attention on practicing and classes was like a fence blocking it. Yet, here and there, from time to time, you would find yourself thinking about him which was unusual, because he was your friend. The last time you liked someone this much was three years ago and you were not sure if you could accept it or if the better option would be to just hide it until it goes away. The last thing you wanted was to ruin the friendship. 

And so did he. 

It was a gloomy Wednesday afternoon, and you were in the mood to read something cool for a few hours. So you gave Kirk a call asking if he wanted to join you at the library, which he said yes to without much thinking. And here you were, going through the shelves and  looking for the perfect books to try out. 

Once chosen, you found a table and sat across from each other, beginning to read.

You sighed in the midst of reading as the story was not progressing too well, catching Kirk’s attention immediately. He paused and looked at you with a small frown in between his dark eyebrows.

“Is the book not good?”

The curly locks falling in his face made him look so adorable that you quickly realized you haven’t said anything yet, you’ve just been looking at him.

“You okay?” he snorted lightly, a worried look on his face.

“Uh- Yeah,” you laughed it off awkwardly, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear. You were never this awkward around him, but in this moment, something about him having his eyes on you set your body on fire. 

“It’s just the plot,” you crossed your legs, one accidentally touching the side of Kirk’s calf, “oh, sorry” and you moved your chair a bit back to not hit him again. Why in the world were you so clumsy today? The moment where your hair got caught on his necklace after hugging when you met up was the start of it all. Can this just stop happening? 

“You’re good, don’t need to worry” he smiled without showing his crooked teeth. He found it cute how you kept having little accidents like these, it also reminded him of that time when you accidentally knocked a cup over and it spilled all over the floor. Or when you were making hot dogs and spilled the ketchup on yourself in some way. It never failed to make him laugh and adore you. Especially when you were so quick to get embarrassed and blush along with it. 

A few minutes later, Kirk found himself looking up at you again, but this time, he couldn’t get his eyes off of you. Every little detail about you he just loved. From your beautiful hair, long curvy eyelashes, to the shape of your nose, and the way you had your lips slightly pursed while your head rested in your palm. And he felt intrigued. He soon realized that he was beginning to wonder how you would taste like - Kirk thought about kissing your lips. But when his eyes landed on your exposed chest and neck, the lust took over him and his mind reminded him of what you did earlier with your feet. Even if it was unintentional. Kirk licked his lips, bucking his hips up as he leaned back in his seat, dragging the book closer and placing it against the edge of the table. You didn’t think much of it, you just thought he’d changed the way he was sitting. When in reality, Kirk was now using the book to make it look like he was still reading it. 

And it didn’t take too long for you to sense the piercing gaze. You looked up to find your friend staring, lips slightly parted, those chocolate irises sending your heart straight down to your toes. 

It left you shy and you looked back at the book quicker than the lightning, realizing how nervous he just made you feel. Clearing your throat, you attempted to continue reading, but failed to concentrate because of a pair of doe eyes you had on you. The way it made you feel was visible to him. Clear as a day. 

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” Kirk broke the silence. 

For a moment, you hesitated to speak or look at him due to the amount of frustration.

“It… it does, but…”

“But what, hm?” 

“We’re out in public, you know? You… You look a bit scary” you tried to act innocent, but he just wasn’t going to buy it. A person who’s scared wouldn’t really blush, don’t you think? 

Shit.

Kirk smirked as he closed the book and grabbed yours too, standing up as he pushed the chair under the table. 

You have never seen him act this way. It was different.

But oh, did he look hot.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-yelled as you caught up to him as he put the books back in their places. He towered over you, eyes dark and a smile still plastered on his face, making you feel even more fired up. Kirk knew that at this moment, you wanted him as much as he wanted you.Though, you tried to mask it by acting. But at this point you were simply lying to yourself. 

He replied, voice husky and lower than his usual.

“I’m doing what’s necessary, doll” 

Doll?

You felt as if your soul had just left your body. Kirk had such a strong effect over you and it wasn’t something you ever thought was possible. He’s got you under his thumb now.

Saying nothing else you followed him outside, looking like a lost puppy next to a stranger. Kirk stopped  in some dark alleyway, which kind of scared you. What the hell was he up to? 

“I know you like challenges, and adrenaline, that’s why I decided this was the place” 

“Place f-for what?” you lowkey panicked, looking around. No people were in sight.

Kirk took a step closer, your back hitting the cold wall as you looked up at the boy. It wasn’t pitch black, it was dark, but the moon shining down on you was enough of a source for some dim light.

“For this” 

Cupping your face with both of his large hands, he pulled you into a warm deep kiss that sent you over the edge, butterflies raging in your stomach. Maybe he was a freak for dragging you out to such a place, but you kind of enjoyed it. The weather was a bit cold, but you weren’t too worried because kissing on its own was a way to stay warm.

Your fingers got lost in his brown curls as you tugged on them every now and then, him biting your lower lip in return, his hands all over you. 

“Kirk” you took a breath as you pulled away. 

“Yeah? Am I going too far?”

You shook your head.

 “No, no, you’re not. I… I want you” you confessed, throwing your leg around his waist as you searched for more friction. 

“Fuck, I never knew I’d hear that” he groaned, grabbing the back of your thigh and squeezing it hard, pulling your skirt up and ghosting his fingers over your heated core. But he was a gentleman and wasn’t going to open the door before knocking first. 

“Can I?” 

“Yes, please. Do whatever you want” 

The way you whimpered once he ripped your tights at the crotch area made him moan, his voice sounding so heavenly to your ears - like a melody. He found his way to your clothed cunt, slipping under the fabric of your lace underwear, running his middle and ring finger up and down your folds, your wetness coating them and his palm. You writhed under his touch when he began to rub circles on your sweet spot, causing you to kiss him to cover up a loud moan. This made it even harder for him to keep his rock hard length in his tight jeans. Kirk really wanted and needed to get rid of the uncomfortable pressure. 

But he just had to stretch you out with his fingers first. 

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, feeling how tight you were, “you’re so freaking hot” 

Your eyes rolled back as the pads of his fingers hit the right place, picking up the pace as he left some wet kisses on your neck.

A whine left your lips.

“Kirk, please, I want more” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes”

He removed his fingers from you and unzipped his jeans, finally setting his length free that was coated in precum, ready to fulfill your desires. 

You did not expect it, but Kirk lifted you against the alleyway wall and slipped his member into you slowly, both of you moaning at the feeling. Your legs were tightly wrapped around his waist as you had your arms around his neck, one hand lost in his bouncy hair, while the other had a grip on his shoulder. His length was the perfect size for you, curved just right, it hugged your walls and hit the most sensitive spot like no other, causing you to lose yourself completely. It was addicting, and never have you ever thought that this would actually happen, thinking you’ll never be able to even admit your feelings for him. 

But here you were, all fucked out at his mercy, bodies colliding as Kirk thrusted faster and faster with each minute. His hand reached out and wrapped around your throat, which gave you so much satisfaction, you swore you saw stars. There was no way you were going to last any longer with the way he was pounding into you, and he could tell from the way you started to loosen up and how your head was thrown back. You were so under his control. 

“Are you cumming, doll?” 

Yes, you were, but couldn’t get words to come out of your mouth.

“Are you?” he asked again, his grip around your throat even tighter as he slammed his hips into you harshly. The way your body shook was the hottest thing that he has ever witnessed in his life, it never came to his mind that he’s ever going to see you like that.

“I am- Fuck” you squealed into your own palm as you came hard, shaking uncontrollably in his arms as he continued to move.

Seconds later, you were on your knees, bobbing your head to help him reach his own high. Kirk held you by the back of your head to guide you, his chest heaving as he was about to finish. 

The groan that left his lips was so hot that you wanted to hear it more than just once. How Kirk sounded could probably make you cum anytime, any place, just from the way he moaned once he was done. And being the good girl that you are, you swallowed everything that he spurted inside your mouth. 

After a long way home, you asked him to stay over, wanting to spend some time with him and have him around. That night, you both ended up finally confessing your feelings that you’ve had for so long.

[ru-fiction]

In Another Life

Peter B. Parker x GN!Reader

A/N: The story has small mentions of death, divorce, grief, and a little jealousy. 'Y/N' is used a bit. This is my first attempt at writing something like this.

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Alright people let's do this one last time. My name is Peter B. Parker.

Peter places his Spiderman mask on his face before letting his body fall and catching himself with his web, gliding across the city.

I was bitten by a radioactive spider and for the last twenty two years, I thought I was the one and only Spiderman.

Peter sits on the edge of a building with a coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

You see I saved the city.

Different instances of Spidey beating up different villains including Electro, Kraven and Juggernaut appear in a comic of his life.

Lifting or catching cars and buses.

Patrolling the city.

I fell in love.

Little moments of a younger Peter with his love, Y/N flashed in pages of the comic.

Their awkward moments of flirting with each other without trying to cross the line for fear of losing a good friendship.

The secret notes exchanged between classes as they walked past each other.

The middle school dance that they went to together.

The parties Y/N would invite Peter to only for the two to sneak off and have long conversations with the other until their respective family members called for them to come home.

Their first kiss and Y/N finally asking Peter out.

Y/N secretly finding out about Peter being Spiderman and waiting for him to tell them.

Peter finally telling Y/N and them stressing over his safety every night. Peter soothes their fears by video calling them as he swings across the city.

Peter making a huge deal out of his promposal and getting an excited yes in return.

The two graduating together and getting accepted into the same college.

The two moving into an apartment together and hosting weekly dinners with each other's families.

Peter smiles sadly at the memories.

I lost them....

One gruelling fight happened, a day that changed Peter's whole world. A friend of Peter's was corrupted by a symbiote. He tried to talk his friend down but he wouldn't listen.

Y/N and May ended up getting captured by him and Peter has to make a choice. He couldn't choose and Y/N paid the price.

Peter cried for days, he wouldn't eat, he couldn't sleep and if he did Y/N's face would appear reminding him of that night.

No one could console him and even though he was able to get his friend's mind back, a part of Peter could never forgive him for what happened to you.

I never truly got over it, my first love but I did try again.

An older version of Peter hanging upside down in his Spiderman costume kissing Mary Jane in an alley comes to mind.

I got married.

Y/N's family showed up to support him which he was happy about. Their guardian had given him a small smile as he placed the wedding band upon Mary Jane's finger. In the crowd he could have sworn he saw Y/N giving him a nod of approval. He wanted to cry.

Saved the city some more. Maybe too much.

Spider-Man fights off a few small criminals every night sometimes coming home later and later.

He'd come home to a cold dinner or his wife being asleep, sometimes he'd miss her altogether.

My Marriage got tested. I made some dicey money choices.

Peter invested money in crypto scams and a failed business much to the annoyance of Mary Jane and his wallet.

Fifteen years passed and during that time Peter broke his back, got hit in the face with a drone, buried his Aunt May next to his Uncle Ben and his deceased lover, divorced Mary Jane because he wasn't quite ready to completely move on from his past love and moved into a small, crappy apartment.

He would say he handled it like a champ but...

Peter would sit in the tub with the shower running and just cry his little heart out. He felt like he lost just about all the good things that he had.

Some days he would just lie in bed and stay there day in, day out because he couldn't find the motivation to do anything else.

Some days he'd hug a picture of Y/N and Him, other days he would mourn the loss of his marriage and some days he'd wish he had Aunt May there to help him. But every now and then he'd feel a presence near him like something was trying to console him.

Soon he started to binge eat to help the pain and sometimes he would go and visit his family wishing they were with him.

There were days where he would just take all his anger and frustrations out on petty thugs then there were days where he wanted nothing more than to hide himself away from the world.

Some days he would call Mary Jane but stop himself after the first few rings.

I'm pretty sure I broke her heart.

One day Peter was laying in his bed and eating a pizza when a purple and black wormhole appeared on his ceiling. Peter stands up, alert. Watching as the wormhole grows.

The next thing he knew his body was starting to glitch and the items in the room began to float. He tried to save himself but his web snapped as he was pulled into a portal leading to who knows where.

🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️

Elsewhere...

You sat down at a seedy bar with your head leaning on one hand and the other absentmindedly being used to stir a straw in your drink. You were dressed in a long sleeve red shirt and black jeans.

Next to you sat a couple who literally couldn't keep their hands off of each other. The couple being your blonde haired, blue eyed friend, Peter Parker and his redheaded wife, Mary Jane.

The two were celebrating their anniversary and had invited all their friends to come along and though You didn't want to come, one look into Peter's pleading eyes and you just couldn't say no.

After a while of being there everyone in the group had split up after realizing the couple was super into each other today. At the moment You was on your fourth drink, bitterly watching as the couple flirted with each other.

You couldn't figure out why Peter had wanted you to come so badly, if he was just gonna be all over MJ the whole time. It frustrated You to know that it wasn't that long ago that you were in MJ's place. That You were his and he was yours. Hell the only reason you guys broke up was because Peter wanted marriage and You didn't at least not at first but it was too late and now it felt like Peter was constantly throwing his new relationship in your face even if he wasn't doing it intentionally.

"Hey, Y/N!"

You blink finally coming out of the space you were in, the blonde smiles at them as he pulls MJ close to him and motions to the door.

"We're headed home. You need a ride?"

You shakes your head at his offer.

"I'm okay. I'll walk."

You turned to leave only to be stopped by a hand softly grasping your arm, You turn to face the couple with a sigh.

"You know I don't feel comfortable with you walking home alone."

Peter gives you a look of worry.

"At least let me walk you home."

"I'm fine."

"Y/N it's really dangerous out there just let me walk you home."

"Peter, Stop. I'm good."

Peter starts to hand MJ the keys to their home and places a small kiss upon her lips then turns to you with a smile, one that hurts to look at.

"It's nothing really. Your house isn't far from here."

You let out an annoyed groan before giving Peter a stern look.

"Maybe worry about getting your wife home safely than me. I can take care of myself, I was fine before you and I'll be fine without you."

Peter and Mary Jane looked at you with shock. You were even surprised by the words you said.

"Look, I just need some space."

You began to walk away needing to get away from them leaving Peter confused and MJ red faced with anger.

The walk to the house was a quiet and lonely one but You weren't so much as messed with. So that was good. You unlocked the door to your home before throwing the keys on one of the counters and locking the door. You let out a huge sigh and slid down the door, stuffing your face against your knees, taking a moment to sit in silence.

About two hours later your phone started to ring a familiar theme played out and a picture of Peter covered the screen. It rang for a while with you just watching the call end before Peter calls again. You let out another sigh and answer.

"Yes, Parker?"

He lets out a displeased sound at your use of his last name.

"Hey, where are you?"

Your brows furrowed at the sternness in his voice.

"At home."

"Why? We're supposed to be looking for King Pin right now.."

You sigh leaning your head back against the door. There was a moment of silence before Peter speaks again.

"I'm headed to this location. You better be there."

You phone chimes with a message and you hear a small sigh on the phone.

"Please. I need you."

You stood up and walked towards your room. You opened up your closet and pulled out the costume Peter made for you when you agreed to be his sidekick.

It was a skin tight white spandex suit with a red v necked vest, there were black straps around your arms and left thigh and to finish the look you added a pair of white fingerless gloves and black boots. You grabbed your laptop, a pair of binoculars and your trusty baseball bat before heading out the door.

—🕸️

The eyes on Peter's masks widened at the sight of you walking through the subway. He springs to his feet and moves to meet you in the middle.

"I didn't think you'd come."

There was a nervous tremble in his voice. You nervously tap the side of your laptop while staring at one of the walls but soon you turn your gaze towards him.

"What did you need me to do Parker?"

Peter lets out a frustrated groan as the two of you make your way deep into the subway.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Saying my name like that."

You knew that Peter could tell something was off. Other than the fact that you blew up on him, you've been being distant for weeks now.

"That's literally your name."

You smiled slightly at his little pout.

"Yeah but you only call me by my last name whenever you are mad at me."

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Peter asked with a shaky voice.

"Are you mad at me? Have I done something to upset you or make you uncomfortable at all?"

You sigh for like the millionth time today and just give him a look of defeat.

"Now is not the time or place. Can we get this over with so we can go home and be done with today? Please."

With that said the two of you continue to make your way to your destination. The two of you found a section that was a little far off where you could put your computer.

"Okay. I've upgraded my software so that my computer can update us on their whereabouts."

You type a way at your computer, not noticing Peter nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"About that. I need you to be lookout on this mission."

You turned to face him with a raised eyebrow, your arms crossing in front of your body.

"You better be kidding."

"I can't risk you getting hurt."

Your eyes darkened at his statement. How could he risk his life time and time again and expect you to just sit there and watch it happen?

"I'm not doing this today Peter. This is King Pin we're talking about."

"Exactly why I need you to stay here."

You jam your finger into his chest, anger flaring in your eyes.

"You've got to be out of your goddamn mind if you think I'm gonna let you risk your life alone."

Peter meets your glare with one of his own.

"Why? Why do you feel the need to fight with me on this?"

He makes a big gesture between the both of you.

"Because I lo-"

You let out a small breath both to stop yourself from finishing your sentence and also go calm yourself down.

"Because you're my friend. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Fine, you win."

You were surprised that he gave up that quickly, Peter was usually stubborn. It honestly made you kind of suspicious of him. This was entirely too easy. But you shrugged it off and turned to grab your bat only for your feet to get trapped under thick web. You turned your head in Peter's direction to find him slowly backing away.

"I am so sorry. I know I told you to come but I can't risk you getting hurt.''

Your eyes filled with anger again as he turned to run off.

"Parker."

"I'll make it up to you."

-

After an hour of peeling the web from your feet, you ran to the facility that you and Peter had been tracking for weeks now.

There you found a teenage boy falling from a great height. You started to freak out trying to run to catch him but luckily Spiderman also noticed the kid and headed in his direction. He ended up grabbing the kid by his jacket and swinging him to safety. You let out a sigh of relief and stealthily made your way to where they were keeping a close eye on the goblin.

You climbed up the railing without Spiderman noticing. He swings away when you finally make your way to the top, standing behind the awestruck teen.

"He's amazing, right?"

"Yeah."

The kid jumps away after he realizes someone was behind him. You chuckle at his reaction.

"Relax. I'm with him."

You point at Spiderman and the kid instantly calms his nerves. That all goes away when a villain known as the Prowler comes out of nowhere and starts to fight Spiderman.

You didn't have any special powers so all you could was silently freak out from the sidelines as the kid pulled out his phone to record the encounter. You tap on your communicator when you notice something from the corner of your eye.

"Spiderman, Watch out!"

"Y/N?"

Right as Spiderman was about to fight back, out came the goblin catching him under his foot and licks him.

The two of you duck behind a canister and tap on your communicator again.

"Hey, are you okay?"

'Yeah, Yeah. Everything is fine.''

You give the canister a frustrated look at his obvious lie. All of a sudden the room starts to glow in a bright light. And Spiderman yells out trying to reason with the villains.

Soon a beam shoots out in the middle of the room. A big thing of rubble hits the surface that you and the kid were on causing you two to fall but the two of you were quick to catch yourselves on the railing. The next thing you knew the goblin was pushing Spiderman's face into the beam.

Then the whole thing exploded. The two of you somehow made it to the ground safety and you started to pull the kid to the exit.

"Wait! What about Spiderman?"

"I will come back for him. I need to get you out of here.''

-

"Peter!!"

You ran back in the direction you last saw him after making sure King Pin and gang was gone.

"Peter!!"

You started to get worried when you didn't get a response.

"Peter I swear if you're messing with me I'm gon-"

You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him leaning against a rock all bloodied and bruised. You felt like your body was moving in slow motion as you ran towards his.

You fell to your knees and pulled his body against yours. His heart was beating slowly and his breath was ragged. You moved your eyes up to his face to find him smiling back at you with droopy eyes.

"Hey."

He whispered softly to you his hand moving to wipe the tears that were forming in your eyes.

"Don't cry. Please don't cry."

He could tell that you were tearing yourself up, there was a look of guilt in your eyes and your bottom lip started to quiver.

You shook your head and wrapped one of his arms around your neck and you placed one of yours around his waist getting ready to lift him.

"It's okay. Everything is okay. I'm gonna get you through this, we'll get you to a hospital and everything will be fine."

You were saying it more to convince yourself. Peter already knew he wasn't going to make it, he had made peace with it the moment you found him.

"Y/N, stop."

"It's fine. I-I'll call the ambulance and t-they'll meet us o-outside."

You go to stand up but Peter leans on you with so much wait that it pulls you down again. He pulls you into a hug staining your clothes with his blood. Though it hurt him, he wanted to feel you one last time. He started to rub the back of your head as your tears wet his suit.

"Look out for May and MJ for me okay."

You nod into his shoulder and your sniffles fill the air.

"Watch out for the kid. He's going to need the help."

You nod your head again pulling away so that you could look into his blue eyes one last time.

"Of course."

Peter moves to grab your cheeks, softly rubbing his thumbs over them.

"One more thing."

There was a look in Peter's eyes, one that you've seen plenty of times before. A look that he gave you when he had one thing to say.

"Don't. I can't take it if you say what I think you're about to say."

Peter pulls you closer so that your foreheads meet and places something into your hands.

"I love you."

Your lip trembled again, his heart was starting to slow to a stop.

"I never stopped loving you."

That was his last words before he went limp in your arms. Leaving you a crying mess.

A little while later you take the kid home and then make your way towards the Parkers' house. You give the door two knocks before MJ opens it. She frowns at your presence and a glare forms on her face but it quickly drops when she sees your expression. You gave her the Spiderman mask with a trembling hand and she quickly pulls you into the house where the two of you just sat on the couch and held each other.

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[howlingday]

Can we get a perspective of the rwby cast reacting to jaune. the monster school au. What appears to be a friendly smile to carter would come off as absolute horror as a face of mana of manifest behind him. Something like that.

Jaune: Wait, what about me?

Ruby: It's our mana equivalence exam! The MEE!

Blake: If you paid attention, you would know it's an aptitude test that will gauge how much we've grown over our classes into our specific classifications of mana usage.

Jaune: Uh...

Ren: It's a test that tells you how good you're doing with mana.

Jaune: Oh! Well, when you put it like that, it shouldn't be so bad!

Penny: It shouldn't. However, you have yet to present your mana abilities.

Jaune: Well, I haven't really had a chance to show it off. I mean, I just got here!

Blake: So has Ruby, and Penny, and Pyrrha, and me.

Jaune: Er, well...

Goodwitch: Jaune Arc, step forward!

Jaune: (Gulps) Uh, wish me luck.

Pyrrha: Good luck!

Jaune: ...I kinda meant quietly. (Walks up) Uh, h-hi, Professor Goodwitch. Um, good to see you again!

Goodwitch: Yes, yes, now show me your mana.

Jaune: ...

Goodwitch: ...

Jaune: Right now?

Goodwitch: No, at graduation.

Jaune: Oh, the-

Goodwitch: Yes, right now, Mr. Arc. Simply hold out your hand and summon your mana!

Jaune: Right... (Holds out hand, Strains)

Goodwitch: ...

Jaune: (Red in the face, Squeaks)

Nora: HA! He sounds like a goliath!

Goodwitch: Mr. Arc, if you cannot summon your mana, then please sit down.

Jaune: ...Yes, ma-

Ozpin: One moment, Glynda. If I may?

Goodwitch: Professor Ozpin!

Jaune: HEADMASTER?!

Ozpin: (Looks to Goodwitch) The one... (Looks to Jaune) and the same.

Jaune: Uh, well, uh, I, you see, uh...

Ozpin: Give your hand, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: (Reaches out)

Ozpin: Hm... (Holds hand) Hm... Interesting... (Releases) There is mana, but you will have to work hard on improving your summoning skills. If you are unable to summon by the next MEE, then I'm afraid we will have to hold you back until you are able to.

Jaune: (Gulps)

Ozpin: You may be seated, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: (Nods, Hurries to his seat)

Ozpin: (Whispers) Keep a close eye on him.

Goodwitch: (Whispers) Is there no mana? Why not just tell him?

Ozpin: Because there is mana, Glynda. More untapped potential in him than any other student. (Looks over) But the particular mana he has is certainly... unique.

Jaune: ...So, did I pass, or did I fail?

Ren: Considering you're here, and you weren't escorted out by the Valkyries, I'd say you passed.

Jaune: As if she needs a reason to drag me anywhere...

[schrijverr]

Stop Laughing

Divergence from chapter 14, where Buck and Eddie try really hard that first day, but their lie falls through the second they see each other. Neither of them are able to keep a straight face and burst out laughing, having to then explain why meeting a person is so funny.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (pre-slash)

Warnings: none

~~~

Buck arrives at the station already in his head about their scheme. He knows he’s terrible at lying, but he’s good at secrets. He hopes his acting skills will carry him through this, because he really doesn’t know what to do.

He does what he thinks is normal while pretending not to see Eddie, until Chimney suddenly says: “Okay, that, is a beautiful man.”

“Where’s the lie. And I like girls,” Hen agrees, looking over Buck’s shoulder to where he already knows Eddie is.

Half a beat too late, Buck remembers it’s suspicious if he doesn’t turn around too. So, he turns to find Eddie pulling on a shirt, looking very attractive as he does. His first instinct is to agree with Hen and Chimney, because Eddie is Hot. Capital H Hot.

However, they’re scheming, so he does the opposite, saying: “Who the hell is that?” in a pissed off voice, finding it silly the second he does.

“That’s Eddie Diaz, new recruit. Graduated top of his class just this week. Guys over at station 6 were dying to have him, but I convinced him to join us,” Bobby tells him, because of course he does, he has no reason to think that is Buck’s husband he’s talking about.

This is so absurd. Buck hadn’t considered how weird this would be. But, he is trying, so he notes that the deflecting question from earlier worked, so he does it again: “What do we need him for?”

Everyone laughs and Buck pouts a little, because it’s rude and it’s not even what he really thinks. Then Bobby starts telling him about Eddie’s accomplishments and a part of him wants to snap that he knows that, outwardly rolling his eyes, but a part of him is also proud. Eddie deserves all the credit, no matter what he himself might think sometimes.

The others go to greet Eddie and Buck takes a second to take a deep breath. He can do this. He can totally do this. Just act normal, Buckley, just act normal.

He gives himself a nod, then looks up. Mistake. He meets Eddie’s eyes and Eddie gives him a mischievous little wink, before going to shake Hen’s hand. It’s so dorky and Buck’s expression breaks for a second as he fights against a giggle.

Okay, serious now, he tells himself, as he shakes it off again and follows after everyone. He focuses on his breathing, he started out kind of doing the ‘fuck the probie’-route, he has to stick it out. No smiling at Eddie, poker face.

“Eddie, this is Buck,” Bobby starts and he must expect something from Buck, because his tone is warning when he continues: “Buck, this is Eddie. He’ll be your partner in the field from now on, I expect you to keep him in the loop.

“Yes, Cap,” Buck nods, his voice an octave lower as he tries to be gruff.

He can see Eddie bite his lip to fight a laugh the moment he speaks, which makes it more difficult to keep his own straight face on. His predicament is not helped by Eddie putting on an uncharacteristically polite tone as he holds out his hand and greets: “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Buck grabs his hand and pumps it up and down two times, trying to come up with something to say that isn’t totally ridiculous. “Likewise,” is what finally comes out. It is ridiculous and Eddie chokes on a noise that would have been a snort.

It’s too much for Buck.

He can’t do this.

“Stop laughing,” he exclaims, smile breaking through on his own face as his giggles start to break through.

“I’m trying,” Eddie laughs, failing to get himself to stop. They’re still shaking hands and they must look like two idiots.

“Try harder!”

That only makes Eddie laugh more and he finally lets go to fully break down into peels of laughter. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, “but come on! ‘Likewise’? ‘Likewise,’ really?”

“Oh, like you’re any better, Mr. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’” Buck retorts.

“That’s a totally normal greeting,” Eddie defends himself.

“Not for you and not with the way you said it!” Buck argues.

Before Eddie can argue back and turn this argument into a proper bickering session, they get interrupted by Hen, who says: “Okay, is anyone going to let us in on the joke?”

Eddie and Buck stop laughing for a moment at the outburst, then look at each other, which sets them off again. It’s not even that funny, but they can’t help it. Every time, they meet each other’s eyes, they set the other off again.

“Is my humor broken, is that what this is? Did something funny happen and we just didn’t notice?” Chimney wonders out loud when they continue.

“No, no, it’s not that,” Buck manages to get out, waving his hand around to convey… something, everything. “Whoooh,” he lets out a long breath, gathering himself. “I just- It’s really hard to take Eddie seriously right now.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie mutters, still snickering.

“And why is that?” Hen asks.

“Look at him, he’s being all buttoned up and polite,” Buck exclaims. “And it’s just ridiculous. This whole thing is ridiculous.”

“You started it,” Eddie protests.

“Oh, you know that’s not true,” Buck says. “You definitely started it. I very clearly remember you coming up with this.”

“I was doing perfectly fine before you started talking.”

“You’re blaming this on me talking? You started laughing. And you winked!”

“As entertaining as this all is, I think we would all appreciate some explanations,” Bobby interrupts their squabbling.

“Uhhh…” Neither of them had really thought about this possibility and they now share a look, trying to make a plan through facial expressions.

“Okay, either they developed a psychic connection in five minutes or they already know each other,” Chimney decides after watching them.

“Of course they know each other,” Hen rolls her eyes. “Did you see them laughing like maniacs for no reason and bicker like a married couple? Question is, how do they know each other?”

“Well,” Buck starts after a final look to Eddie. “You were kind of on the mark just now. In a way.”

For a moment, Bobby, Chimney and Hen look at them blankly as they all try to figure out what the fuck he is on about. Then Hen cries out: “You mean the married couple bit?”

Both Buck and Eddie nod, and Eddie adds: “It’s not exactly like that, but yeah.”

“What do you mean with that?” Hen yells at them, getting backed up by Bobby and Chimney. Before either of them can clarify, the alarm starts ringing and they all have to run to the engine. Hen makes an ‘I’m watching you’-motion and says: “This isn’t over,” then hurries to her turnouts.

Indeed, once in the rig, they pick it right back up. “We have a fast response time, so you better make this quick, Buckley,” Chimney says.

“We got married so I could adopt Chris when Eddie had to re-enlist to pay his medical bills,” Buck replies in rapid tempo. “That is the quickest I can make it.”

“Adopt?” Chimney shrieks.

“Wait, you have a kid?” Hen needs to make sure she understood correctly.

“Yeah, he’s seven,” Buck says proudly, digging around for his phone so he can show them a picture.

Eddie meanwhile explains: “His mom isn’t in the picture. Buck stepped up when she left. We’d already been divorced at the time. I had full custody then, share it with Buck now.”

“You’re a father?” Bobby asks Buck, turning around to be a part of the conversation. The expression on his face is almost unreadable.

“Uh, yeah, I- I am,” Buck stutters, straightening up without conscious thought. He stumbles not because he doesn’t know that he is, but it feels foreign to say. At school people assume, but only Eddie and Chris have ever affirmed it.

“Buck, why didn’t you ever say? I could’ve thought with you around plannings or not send you to do the too dangerous stuff. You have people to come home to,” Bobby says, the unspoken ‘I didn’t’ going unheard by anyone but Bobby himself.

“I-” Buck starts, unsure what to say to that. What can he say? ‘Oh, yeah, I know that, didn’t doubt it for a second, but I was too insecure and Eddie only recently gave me a pep talk’ like, no thanks?

Eddie must notice the look on his face, because he nudges Buck with his toe, getting his attention and giving him an encouraging smile.

Buck smiles back, then directs himself at Bobby again. “I know. It’s alright. We were just finding out footing in a new city, then it felt kind of too late to bring it up.”

“You can say that again,” Chimney says loudly, missing the uncomfortable lull that had just happened, still too caught up in the revelations. “Like are we sure we’re talking about the same probie that turned the fire suppression system on on himself and got cleaned like a plate in the dishwasher?”

“You never told me that story,” Eddie says, clearly intrigued.

Meanwhile, Buck slumps in his seat and crosses his arms, darkly muttering: “It wasn’t very interesting or relevant.”

Chimney looks gleeful to tell Eddie the embarrassing story about Buck, but he’s stopped by Hen, who practically pushes him out the way, so she can talk with everyone better. “We can embarrass Buck later, right now I’m still confused about what that meeting was all about.”

“Oh, yeah,” Chimney remembers too now.

They all look expectantly at the two of them and Eddie ducks into himself slightly, this is not how he wanted today to go. He then looks over to Buck, who is already looking at him, wanting to communicate a bit what they’re going to say. The gesture makes Eddie smile and he motions for Buck to just tell them, that it’s okay.

“So, that might not have been our brightest moment, but our plan had been to pretend to not know each other, so we can work together,” Buck explains, earning a disbelieving look from everyone.

“What?” Surprising to everyone, including the man himself, it’s Bobby who says it.

“Uh,” Buck says, looking a little like a caught schoolboy. “We kind of assumed you’d retract the offer, if you knew we were married, because fraternization rules, but it’s not like that with us, but because it’s a legal thing, we didn’t want to risk it. And then we thought it would be weird to just pull a friend out of thin air that I hadn’t mentioned before and then you would ask how I know him and I can’t lie, so then it ended up in-”

“You two attempting a bigger lie and failing immediately?” Bobby asks pointedly.

“Kinda, yeah,” Buck blushes.

“Oh my god, that is so fucking stupid,” Hen says, clapping her hands over her mouth when everyone looks over at her. That was clearly meant to be an inside thought.

Bobby, however, saves her and agrees: “Yes, it was. And we will be talking about it when we get back, but we have people to save right now. So please, be professional.”

They have indeed arrived at the scene and all of them promise they’ll behave – even Chimney and Hen, who arguably have nothing to do with this, promise – before getting out of the rig and checking on their patient; a man, who fell on a tire pump.

Hen and Chimney work well together like always, but – despite knowing what they know – they’re all surprised by how well Buck and Eddie work together too. There is nothing left of the two giggling boys from before, instead they are professional and mature, communicating easily and with half a words to get Hector deflated.

It’s not until Hector is in the back of the ambulance and people are congratulating Eddie on a good first call that the giggling boys make a return.

Buck slings an arm around Eddie and ruffles his hair, while Eddie makes an annoyed face at him and swats his hand away. Though, he makes no move to leave from under Buck’s arm and he seems to know that Buck is about to say something, because he doesn’t say anything.

Indeed, Buck puts on his best serious expression as he gives Eddie a nod, magnanimously saying: “Yeah, good call, probie.”

Eddie sends him a deadpan look, clearly unamused, but he doesn’t look offended. In fact, it sounds quite playful when he threatens: “Call me that again and I’m cursing us.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Buck gasps.

“I would.”

“Would not.”

“Would too.”

“Would not.”

The others have no context for whatever this argument is, having missed the deal made that morning about no probie in exchange for no q-word. However, they are taken aback for a moment by just how childish the two are being.

Nothing is left of the two professionals from earlier and they’re all hit by the fact that they’re only twenty-seven.

Now, twenty-seven isn’t ‘just a baby’-territory, but they’re both still young. So young. They have all seen that they can be mature when it counts, but there’s a reason they thought Buck was a frat bro and it’s so easy to imagine the two of them now, sitting on some shitty couch with beers in their hands, talking about how fun working together would be and coming up with a stupid scheme to make it work.

In fact, Bobby hasn’t felt like this in years as he claps his hands and says: “Alright, boys, break it off,” to stop the argument.

Both look like caught school boys once more as they say: “Sorry, Cap.”

Much like a year ago, when Buck had just done something incredibly stupid by not wanting to let the teen mom in – a reaction that makes more sense now – Bobby knows he should scold the firefighters in front of him more, but instead, all he says is: “Get in the truck.”

Though, this time there is no judging Hen, she barely even blinks at the reaction as she follows Buck and Eddie into the truck, Bobby and Chimney behind her.

He’ll figure out a way to keep the two together, it’s clear they lift each other up and can turn the knob when it counts. With the responsibility he now knows is on their plates, they deserve to have a place to act their age.

~~

A/N:

This is inspired by when you and your friend get into trouble at school and you should stop, bc you’re pissing your teacher off, but you can’t.

Also, I will never get tired of Buck and Eddie being twenty-something year old dudes, because, yeah, they’re adults and can be mature and be parents, but also, they’re just two guys, who are very young and are still growing up themselves, like, they’re just kids too, you know?

Side note: the posting on Monday too is not going to be the new norm, I just had a couple ideas and this fit best with posting to keep the AUAUs close to the related chapters