#THE TEACHER TOLD THE OTHER CLASS IT'S UNFAIR | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

esmedelacroix · 4 months

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Mr. O'Hara

ta!miguel o'hara can't resist student!reader's charms⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

cw: dom!miguel o'hara, age gap, smut, overstim, unprotected p in v, oral f! and m! receiving, slapping, creampie, pwp kinda

a/n: hey lovies, this is a little something I wrote like a year ago about a different character and it's one of the first things I had ever written so I took and revised it, and made it about Miguel. I hope you all like it, enjoy...

wc: 2k

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You were a college senior when you first entered Mr. Choi’s Biology Class. It was a relatively easy class but every now and then you would get entirely distracted by Mr. Choi’s teacher assistant Miguel O'Hara. He graduated from your department the year before and he was now doing his master's. Since Mr. Choi had been out for a month and most likely be gone for more to come, Miguel had been teaching your class.

This meant you were busy staring at his muscular biceps that bulged out of his button-up shirt, his forearms that flexed when he wrote on the board, his hair that was always styled perfectly, and his sharp jawline that looked like it could cut through steel. Instead of taking notes and asking questions, you daydreamed about him.

So it was no surprise when Miguel returned your midterm with a bright red F on the front. He held the test result paper to your face to grab your attention seeing that you were lost in thought once again. He placed the sheet of paper on your desk and motioned toward the exit of the classroom.

“My office, now please,” he said in a stern tone of voice.

Miguel paced back and forth collecting his thoughts before closing the door. You sort of knew Miguel before he graduated the year prior so you had expected him to be chill about you failing one singular test. You couldn’t figure out why he was so disappointed in your grade, and not any other students' because the whole class had failed. He ran a hand through his hair and took off his glasses to look you in the eyes; the tension grew thicker as the two of you stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

"What did you want to talk to me about Mr. O’Hara?" you had asked him, trying to sound as clueless as possible.

“Well, believe it or not, you were at the top of this class at the beginning of the semester, and please just call me Miguel,” he said as he leaned against his desk.

“Well, I knew I was good at Biology but I didn't know I was at the top of my class,” you said genuinely dumbfounded.

“So what's going on? I feel like you’re always daydreaming and zoning out in class nowadays. Your grades are slipping and I don’t want this to happen to you, I know your potential as a student.” Miguel said, as his expression softened.

“Well if you are as worried about my grades as you say you are, can’t you just raise them?" you asked with a blank expression.

"Well yes, I could if I wanted to be kicked out of school," he said, sounding sarcastically.

"It's just a few points," you said in a sing-songy tone as if you were teasing him.

"I can’t, it is a violation of school rules and unfairness for other classmates," he said.

"But, if I sleep with you, will you raise my score?" you asked as you sat back in the chair across from him looking up at him with fuck me eyes.

"Um, no?" Miguel said cheeks flushed with the bold proposition you had made.

"Come on, I know you had a little crush on me last year, your buddies on the soccer team told me," you said as the corners of your lips rose at his slightly embarrassed expression that he was trying to mask with confusion.

"Just, leave my office please," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You sure you don’t want this?" you asked as you traced your collarbone pulling his eyes to the tight button-up that showed some of your cleavage that you were sporting.

“Can you please leave? A no is a no." Miguel said as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his gray trousers, and turned away from you as you left the room trying to hide his obvious boner.

"Okay big guy I'll see you this weekend at your place," you left his room leaving the door open a crack.

“Seriously I won’t do it!” he called out.

. . .

Despite all of that denying Miguel had your legs spread across the armchair in his bedroom. His room had a huge ceiling-to-floor window overlooking the bright city lights. You looked out at the buildings that your teary and hazy eyes perceived as colorful dots. You were already three orgasms into the night, he never got tired of lapping at your folds and fucking you with his tongue alone.

Constantly letting you know that you tasted too sweet to be true. His calloused fingers circled your aching clit as he slipped his index finger into your wet, creamy cunt. He didn’t once let you touch herself; letting him eat you out was the reward that would make him give you that A+. He wasn't eating your pussy and making you squirt to make you feel good, he was doing it for his pleasure. He continued with both his index finger and his middle finger pumping them in and out of your sex. You watched as each muscle on his arm flexed as he fingered you.

Your hands gripped at the arms of the red velvety chair. You felt high on the feeling of him sucking your clit and fingering you. You couldn't help but squeeze around him as he added a third finger and pressed his forearm across your stomach holding you down as your legs began to spasm and your hips jerked up.

The wet, squelching, lewd sounds of Miguel's fingers going in and out of you filled the room, as your moans serenaded him, turning him carrying vibrations from his hardening erection threatening to bust the button of his slacks. Miguel brought his fingers to his mouth making sure he didn’t break eye contact with you. After licking all your juices off his fingers, he shoved them into your mouth, locking eyes with you as you sucked his fingers tasting a mixture of his saliva, your slick, and the whiskey he had beforehand.

His bulge was painfully visible through his trousers. "Take this off," he commanded, tugging at the hem of your pink button-up.

You slowly unbuttoned your shirt and tossed it on the ground along with your skirt, and panties. He smirked to himself, biting the inside of his cheek as he picked you up and took a seat on the armchair setting you on his lap. "Help me take my clothes off," he ordered with a smirk, enjoying how willing you were to do what he asked.

You unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside then you slid his pants and boxers off of him and watched his cock spring up and hit his stomach. You took a moment to take in the sight before you. Miguel sat back in the chair spreading his legs and motioning for you to kneel in between them just like he did to you moments before. "Are you going to stare at me or are you going to get to work?" he asked as he cupped your chin with his hand and slapped you across the face with the other.

You wrapped your hands around his warm veiny shaft. Your thumb and your fingers barely met when you wrapped them around his cock; he was that big. You licked the precum that was leaking from his screaming red tip earning a low groan from him. You slowly rubbed him in an almost teasing manner trying to assess how you were going to fit him in your mouth let alone your vagina.

“Miguel, you’re so big I don’t know how this is gonna fit-” you started.

“But you're going to take it anyway, right?” Miguel asked, trying to swallow his moans with his speech as you slowly stroked his length.

He grabbed you by the hair and guided your mouth onto his cock. You only had the tip in, but your mouth already felt full. He pushed your head down even further on his cock bobbing your head up and down.

You could feel him getting warmer and feel his length twitching in your mouth against your tongue. He pushed your head further to the base of his cock and you gaged on it. Tears burned your eyes as they fell down your cheeks. Mascara falling with them making a mess of your eye makeup. You slowly lifted your head, his cock leaving your mouth with a pornographic 'pop' sound.

You took a moment to catch your breath before stroking his cock at a speed you knew he'd love. You got up and straddled him with both of your hands on his broad shoulders supporting yourself. You kissed a line from his jaw to his neck. You lined his tip up with your sopping-wet cunt practically dripping on his aching cock with her love juice.

You slowly slid down his cock with a prolonged moan feeling the near-painful stretch. He could feel your tight pussy almost ripping his cock off when you started to move. You slowly moved up and back down again easing yourself into the feeling of his huge cock stretching your walls.

You felt like your body was going to rip in half but after a while, the pleasure completely washed over the pain. Miguel leaned his head back beads of sweat dripping down his neck and chest as you began to ride out your high. He was meanwhile mesmerized by your tits bouncing along with you as he tried not to explode in you right then and there. You frantically rode Miguel feeling your legs shake as a wave of pure pleasure and bliss washed over your body as you experienced the most intense orgasm of the night. Miguel started to pound his hips into you at an ungodly speed riding out his high. With one final thrust, he released his cum deep inside you. Tip kissing your cervix as he filled you up with his babies.

“Miguel,” you moaned breathlessly as you were barely able to think any thoughts but him.

Your body plopped against his, wet, sweaty skin stuck together as the two of you panted

“That was only the beginning, and you call me Mr.O'Hara got it?” he said as he lifted you up with him and brought you to the giant window outlooking the entire city. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as he suddenly put you down and made you face the window. He pressed your naked body against the cold glass. Your nipples hardening at the sudden temperature change. You jumped startled by how chilly the glass was against your hot skin. He turned on the fireplace nearby and whispered in your ear, “ I want the whole world to watch when I fuck you”

The hairs on the back of your neck jumped after feeling his warm breath hit your ear like dry ice. There was nothing nice about what he was saying it was cruel a cruel promise that he would fuck you so good you'd question if you've ever actually had sex before. Moisture pooled in between your legs at the thought of it.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want me to show them how good of a slut you are huh?” He asked as his finger circled your clit and her and kneeled on the beige carpet floors bringing you down with him bending you over doggy style. You pressed your hands against that cold glass and moaned,

"Yes, Mr. O'Hara, show them all how good I am for you,"

. . .

As all the students filed into the class, you couldn't help but notice that your name was number one on the end-of-trimester grades list. So much for all that, 'I'll lose my job' crap. Besides there's nothing Miguel wouldn't do after a fuck like that.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 19 days

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AITA for turning someone in for academic dishonesty?

I’m an American IB diploma candidate, and this ask does center around that, so sorry if we all just sound unbearably seventeen-years-old.

If you don’t know what the IB diploma is, think of it as if you had to write a bunch of essays and take a bunch of classes and do a bunch of service hours and then take AP tests on all those classes and add the AP scores together, and if they add up to a certain number, you get a special diploma that looks good to colleges.

Only eight people in the entire grade (we’re seniors and our exams are happening so we’re at the very end) are left in the IB diploma program right now because we made it this far and are all hoping our exam scores and essays. The program isn’t super popular at our school so we tend to have to mostly prepare ourselves for exams and such, so we’re all very proud of ourselves for getting this far and hoping that when our scores come out we get the diploma.

In short, we’ve done TONS of work. TONS OF WORK. And we haven’t received the amount of support that some IB schools are able to give. And suddenly, one of the IB diploma candidates admits in the group chat, “yeah, chatgpt wrote all of my IB essays.” If you know stuff about IB, she explicitly admitted to cheating on her Extended Essay, TOK Essay, TOK exhibition, Chemistry HL IA, History HL IA, Literature HL Essay, and Art HL Comparative Study.

That’s hours and hours and hours and hours of work that the rest of the diplomats candidates did that she’s just flippantly admitting she let an AI do for her.

but…….it also wasn’t really any of my business. So I wasn’t sure whether I should tell or not—especially since I’m the known goody-two-shoes of the group and I didn’t want to be viewed as a tattletale.

I asked two of the diploma candidates I’m friends with what they thought. One of them said “don’t be a snitch,” and the other said she wasn’t sure and kinda felt like I should talk. So… split response.

I was leaning towards “don’t be a snitch,” but eventually I just felt really indignant that this girl and I might receive the same end result for doing wildly different amounts of work. And I had evidence that she cheated—she admitted it herself. So I went to the school’s IB coordinator and I talked. I showed the screenshot. I essentially betrayed one of the candidates in a very tight knit group of students who are all breaking our backs to get this diploma with little to no IB-specific support from our teachers (our classes are all co-seated with non-IB-test-takers, who take up most of the class, which is an entirely different issue), but now it turns out one of us wasn’t even doing the work the whole time…

So I did it and it went to the administration and they’re “deciding how to proceed.”

Reason I’m worried I’m TA: she trusted us with that information and I told on her

Reason I think I might not be TA: it feels unfair that we should have the same shot at getting the IB diploma when the nights I stayed up crafting the perfect extended essay were the same nights she asked chatgpt to write her an essay and then moved on with her life and somehow did it well enough to not get caught.

AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole

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hey-hamlet · 5 months

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BNHA AU Idea - Let's Kill Sensei!

I just got reminded assassination classroom is a show that existed so im shamelessly cribbing the premise.

Midoriya Izuku didn't make it into the hero course. Without a quirk and only 10 rescue points - it just wasn't enough. Still, his score in the written exam saw him placed in gen ed - class 1C - with all of the other failed hero students. The classroom has an uncomfortable vibe - the recent and abrupt retirement of All Might after a villain attack on his home left him badly injured, coupled with their own failures, leave them all on edge.

To say they were expecting the man who walked into their classroom would be a mistake, but the gut wrenching fear that followed was almost expected.

All for One, the man they'd all seen nearly murder All Might 3 months ago, grinned - red eyes squinted in real mirth. "Hello, students. What on earth shall I teach you today?"

1C has 1 year to kill their homeroom teacher, or he takes over Japan. 1 year to kill a 200 year old villain with more quirks than UA has students. The student who kills AfO will be given 1 billion yen and moved to the course of their choosing.

What AfO hasn't told anyone is that he has a special gift for the student who manages to off him - if any of them do.

Featuring:

this is a deal with UA and the HPSC - UA wanted him with 3rd year heroics students while the HPSC insisted on gen ed - UA thinks the students have a chance, while the HPSC wants cannon fodder they can throw at AFO so they have extra time to plan.

the only person aware of this deal on UA staff other than Nezu is Present Mic - the man who was supposed to be gen ed's homeroom teacher. Nezu wanted to tell Eraserhead as well, but AfO argued that that was an unfair advantage to UA

gen!ed uraraka - without her rescue of Izuku, she didn't get enough points for the hero course

Dad for One - but Izuku doesn't recognize him (its been like 10 years, plus 'Hisashi Midoriya' had black hair). It's pretty clear Izuku is AfO's favourite student. but given that just means hes even tougher and like. Also a murderer. No one is particularly jealous.

Izuku, Shinso and Uraraka friendship - none of them really have anything to lose - either they are the ones to kill AfO or their lives are over.

#lets kill sensei au #bnha au #bnha #this is very silly and i love it honestly

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dntaewithluv · 2 years

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Private Lesson | myg

Your little sister finds it odd how you've been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn't heard you actually play even once...

🎹 Pairing: pianoteacher/pianist!yoongi x reader

🎹 Word Count: 5.5k

🎹 Rating: 18+

🎹 Genre: Friends with benefits to lovers, piano teacher/pianist au, smut, fluff, minor drama/angst

🎹 Warnings: Y/N is lying to her younger sister, explicit language, we love secretly hooking up with our sister's hot piano teacher 🤩, making out, biting/marking, Yoongi has some dom tendencies, groping, there's an actual piano lesson and it's wholesome until it's not™️, Yoongi plays his sabotage card 😈, explicit sexual content, lots of teasing/taunting, rubbing, fingering, multiple orgasms, cum eating/feeding, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, scratching, brief handjob, unprotected sex (pls be safe), sex on top of Yoongi's first love (the piano 👀), it's fluffy and wholesome at the end, Y/N lets Yoongi keep her underwear, really the only drama/angst is because they're hooking up in secret oof

A/N: Funny how I forget this man owns me until I see him again and then it's painfully clear 🥹 This was inspired by and spiraled into this™️ after the YTC concert this weekend. It felt really good to be inspired and motivated to write something again, so I really hope you enjoy this if you decide to check it out 🥰 Thank you as always for your patience and kindness and support I purple you always 💜

Masterlist

“Okay, Faith, I’m heading out.” you called out as you made your way towards the front door, “Should be back in an hour or so.”

Your fifteen-year-old sister, seated at the kitchen table, looked up from her phone, “You know, I really just don’t understand why you don’t just sign up for one of his classes. I know he offers them specifically for adults. It’d probably be way cheaper than whatever you’re paying for all these private lessons.”

You laughed at her remark, trying your best not to let your nerves show.

“I told you, I don’t feel comfortable playing in front of other people. Too much pressure, and too many pairs of eyes on you. Having one person there makes me nervous enough.”

Your little sister stared back at you, seeming to search your face for some answer to whatever she was looking for.

“Yeah, but, Y/N, you won’t even play in front of me. And I’m your sister. You’d think after six weeks worth of lessons, you’d at least be able to do that. Wouldn’t it be cool for us to be able to play something together sometime?”

You felt a twinge of guilt pierce you at her words and the look on her face. You nervously chewed on your bottom lip as you wracked your brain for a response that would satisfy her.

“Tell you what, Faith. I’ll ask Yoo-I mean Mr. Min to teach me one of the pieces you guys are working on in class, and we’ll try to play together soon. Sound good?” you proposed, hoping it would suffice for now.

Faith’s expression shifted, and you were grateful to see that she didn’t look nearly as upset.

“Yeah, okay, sounds good. Have a good lesson.” she said with a small smile before turning back to her phone.

You waited to let out your sigh of relief until you were on the other side of the door. Well that had been fucking close.

Your anxiety only grew more heightened as you pulled up to the familiar condo. No longer feelings of guilt, but of excitement and anticipation. You felt yourself walk a little too fast up to the door, finger immediately reaching out to push the doorbell. You held your breath as you always did when the door was being swung open. And then there he was.

It was truly unfair how hot he looked today and every time you saw him. He had a plain white tee tucked into a pair of high waisted black pants, a single silver chain hanging from his neck. His long, dark, gorgeous locks cascaded down either side of his handsome face. Every single part of you was buzzing.

“And here I was starting to think that maybe you were going to stand me up for our lesson.” he greeted you, eyes giving you a very obvious once over.

Heat washed over you.

“You know I would never.” you voiced, a hint of playfulness in your tone, “I need the practice, and you and I both know it.”

An amused smirk took over his features, “You know I’m always more than happy to oblige a student in need. Please, come in, and we can get started.”

You sauntered past him and into the condo, feeling his gaze on you all the while. No sooner had he closed the door behind you, than you were being pushed up against it, Yoongi hastily crashing his lips against your own. You matched his urgency as your mouths moved together, and your hands slid up into his midnight strands.

He was always more worked up, more rough, anytime you were late. Anytime you had kept him waiting. Today was no exception as he practically swallowed you, his fingers surely making imprints across the skin of your hips from how hard he was pushing you against the door.

His teeth nipped harshly at your lips as his tongue tangled messily with yours. That wild look you had come to know all too well over the past six weeks was present in his dark eyes when he suddenly pulled back from you.

“Well, shit.” you rasped, laughing slightly, “I missed you too.”

Yoongi’s response was to begin hungrily kissing down your neck, and you sighed out as you held him against you.

“You were all I could think about all fucking day.” he murmured as his lips seared against your skin.

“Mmm, you might’ve crossed my mind a time or two.” you teased back, and Yoongi growled against your neck before sinking his teeth into you.

You cried out, your head falling back against the door. He pushed one of his legs between yours and pressed his thigh against you, making you let out a whimper as his tongue simultaneously soothed the spot on your neck. His leg pressed harder and you gasped sharply, “You really wanna be a brat today? After you were already late? Think carefully about your decision, darling.”

It probably wouldn’t be the best idea to be honest. And you knew you would struggle to come up with a reason to explain to Faith why you couldn’t walk the next day…

“No…no. I’ll be good, Yoongi.”

He kissed you just behind your ear, hot breath hitting your skin, “Smart girl. Looks like I’ve been teaching you something these last several weeks after all.”

He immediately went back to sucking color into your neck as his fingers slipped beneath your sun dress and began trailing up the inside of your thigh. His other hand roughly pulled down the strap of your dress to expose your shoulder and some of your chest. Your mind was starting to go fuzzy. The way it always did when you were with Yoongi. But the mention of his teaching reminded you of your promise to Faith.

“Yoongi.” you tried, but it came out as a moan from the way his teeth scraped against your collarbone.

His free hand groped at your breast over your clothes while his fingers started to dip between your thighs. It wouldn’t be long before you would be lost in your pleasure. Lost in him.

“Yoongi, wait.”

You’d actually managed to find your voice this time, and Yoongi was immediately pulling back to look at you as his hand retreated out from underneath your dress.

“Darling, what is it?” he queried, concern briefly flashing across his handsome features.

“It’s just…it’s my sister.”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide, “Wait, does Faith know about us?”

“No, no.” you reassured him quickly, “At least I don’t think she does. But, she is starting to wonder why after six weeks of lessons that she hasn’t heard me play. Like, at all.”

You watched as Yoongi processed this information, and marveled at how cute his thinking face was. You desperately wanted to be kissing him again, but it would have to wait for now.

“So, what you’re saying is, that you think our weekly “piano lessons” should actually be used for piano lessons?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I mean, we can definitely still have sex. But I do think I should at least start becoming more familiar with the piano if we wanna keep this under wraps like we have been.” you explained further, looping your arms around Yoongi’s neck as you talked.

His hands came to rest on your hips once again, “You know, darling, I think I have the perfect solution.”

This time you lifted your eyebrows at him. You knew he was fucking with you, but you still decided to ask anyway.

“Oh, and what solution is that?”

Yoongi gripped you harder, making your dress bunch up slightly in his hold.

“I could fuck you on my piano. That would definitely help you become more familiar with it.” he mused, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

You rubbed your thighs together before you could stop yourself, and Yoongi, of course, noticed immediately. You quickly tried to defuse the rapidly mounting tension.

“Yoon, I’m serious about this. It’s really important to my sister, and at least this way what I’m telling her won’t be a complete lie. Just teach me some of the basics so I have something to show from all these “lessons”. Pleeeeeeease Yoonie.” you pleaded sweetly, and the piano teacher revealed his gums when he smiled at you.

“Alright, alright. You’re right, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea. And if anyone’s gonna teach you, it should be me.” he relented before taking both of your hands and leading you over to one of the many pianos he had in his luxurious condo.

This particular one was displayed right by his wall of glass windows. Sunlight filtered through the panes and fell on the inviting instrument. Yoongi gestured for you to take a seat on the bench, and you let out a slightly nervous giggle before sitting down. You only missed his warmth for a second before he was right next to you, hip bumping against yours.

His fingers hovered over the keys with such a natural grace, and all you could do was stare at him in awe for a moment. He belonged here. That was clear as day. He positioned his foot on the pedal below, closed his eyes, and began to play. The notes were soft and delicate, as was his touch against the keys.

He looked so beautiful like this, and you felt your breath catch in your chest. It was as if he and the instrument were one and the same, sharing the same soul. He was lost in it, and the music was lost in him. Out of everything you and Yoongi had done since the two of you had started hooking up, this, this, felt the most intimate.

You were overcome with the sudden realization that you were starting to fall in love with him, and nothing had ever scared you more in your entire life. Yoongi’s eyes suddenly fluttered open, and you weren’t prepared for the calm intensity in them when he turned to you. Without taking his hands off the keys, he leaned over and gently brought his lips to yours.

You felt yourself flush furiously because this was a different kind of kiss. Not the kind that had heat surging through you and craving more, more, more. The kind that made your heart stutter in your chest and sent every part of you fluttering. A kiss that made you think that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to fall for you too.

The two of you broke apart, but the closeness remained.

“I don’t know if I ever told you,” Yoongi began softly, warm breath hitting your lips, “but the piano was actually my first love.”

He grew shy suddenly, cheeks heating at the admission as his hands froze over the keys. He had really shown you something so precious. Something that was at the very core of who he was. All you could think about was how honored and lucky you felt that he had chosen to share it with you.

You smiled warmly at him, “Well, then, I’m honored to meet her. Thank you for sharing this with me. You really play so beautifully.”

He blushed deeper, and his gums poked out when he grinned bashfully back at you. The moment felt as delicate as the notes he’d just been pulling from the piano. You found yourself wanting to stay in it for as long as possible. But then Yoongi suddenly cleared his throat and brushed his hands nervously over his pants.

“Okay, your turn now.”

“You really expect me to follow that up?” you questioned back, the nerves beginning to settle over you once more.

Yoongi chuckled, the sound dancing in his eyes, “Of course not. I’m just gonna show you some basic scales.”

You playfully bumped his shoulder with your own.

“Show off.” you remarked teasingly.

“Don’t act like I didn’t just woo the fuck out of you with my piano skills.” he quipped back, flashing you a cocky smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, betraying you.

“Okay, fine. Consider me wooed. I guess you can court me now or whatever. After our lesson of course.” you reminded him, and Yoongi swept his hand over the top of the keyboard as if to say “All yours”.

As promised, Yoongi taught you some of the basic scales. It was honestly so hard to concentrate though because there was something so sexy about when he went into teacher mode. Especially once he covered your hands with his own to guide them over the keys. Your brain just went completely blank anytime his hands were on you.

“You know, you could always just join one of my classes. If you wanted to.” he voiced as he helped maneuver your hands.

“Yeaaaaah, something tells me I wouldn’t be able to learn very much. I’d be too distracted by the hot teacher.” you replied cheekily.

Yoongi’s grip on your hands tightened briefly, and you smirked to yourself. But then he switched to teasingly trailing his fingers over your hands and up your arms and back down again, sending shivers through you with his phantom touch.

“I don’t think I’d be able to concentrate either.” he started, his mouth right next to your ear, “There’d only be one thing I’d want to have my hands on…and it wouldn’t be the piano.”

He pulled your ear between his teeth, and you squirmed next to him on the bench. His lips traveled along the length of your jaw, warm and hungry. You sighed out as you leaned into his touch, “Well I feel properly educated for the day. You were a great teacher.”

He hummed, and his mouth vibrated over your throat.

“Mmm, I want you to play the C major scale I showed you before we finish up our lesson for today.”

You pouted even though he couldn’t see it.

“Yoonieeee.” you whined, his teeth grazing your skin in response.

“Play the scale, and then we can start our real lesson.”

You hesitantly raised your fingers over the keys, trying to remember what he had literally just taught you. You pressed down on the first few keys, feeling a tiny victory at the familiar sound. You felt a little more confident going forward now. Until Yoongi sabotaged you by sliding one of his hands over your shoulder and down the front of your dress. He squeezed your breast, and you cried out as your finger struck the wrong key.

“Yoongi.” you scolded him, but he paid you no mind as he continued to knead your soft flesh and bruise your skin with his harsh mouth.

His thumb flicked over your nipple, and you jerked on the bench.

“Start again.” he said simply.

Fuck. This was going to be impossible.

Your hands were shaking this time as you positioned them back over the keys. You willed all your concentration and focus to be on playing the right keys in the scale, and not on Yoongi’s other hand, which was now starting to slip under your dress. You held your breath, making it about halfway through before your hands slammed down on the piano from the feeling of his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

“How in the fuck do you expect me to do this?” you demanded in frustration, your body beginning to tremble slightly.

His long digits glided through your folds, teasing you, and your hands curled into fists against your knees.

“Focus. Start again. Play the scale.” he pressed, the words searing against the skin of your shoulder.

Maybe if you just got through the scale as fast as possible. You discovered, however, that when your speed increased, so did the speed of Yoongi’s fingers as they rubbed over your aching core. Your head had nearly slammed down into the keys. You whimpered and started again, slower this time. Yoongi immediately slowed down with you. It took all of your strength and willpower to block him out, but soon you had reached the second to last note in the scale. You prepared to play the final note, but suddenly shot up from the bench when one of Yoongi’s fingers pushed inside of you, “Yoongi, fuck!”

He used his free hand to push you back down and hold you in place before inserting a second digit, making you writhe on the bench.

“Again. You almost had it that time.” he taunted you, and you could see his wicked smirk out of the corner of your eye.

He opted for just watching you this time as you started the scale again, but his hand didn’t cease its movements between your legs. His fingers plunged inside of you, crooking and twisting in a way that was nothing short of sinful. You had reached the last few notes again, you were so close. Yoongi’s thumb brushed over your neglected clit, and you yanked your hands down to your lap to keep from playing a wrong key as you nearly let out a sob.

“Oh, darling, you’re so close. Finish it.”

Your hands were shaking so violently now, but you still somehow managed to play the last few keys without any more errors. All the built up tension and pressure had you releasing all over Yoongi’s fingers as soon as your hands left the keys, and he hissed next to you.

Your body was still trembling in his hold, and you panted heavily as you struggled to regain your senses. Yoongi reached out with his clean hand to pull the cover back over the keys before withdrawing his other one from between your thighs. His coated fingers were slipping past your lips a moment later and pressing down on your tongue. You were still feeling hazy, but you sucked them clean without needing to be asked, Yoongi humming in approval.

He stood up from the bench a moment later, and reached down to lift you up and perch you on top of the piano, your head still spinning. His hands slid up your thighs, fingers digging in slightly. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee before slowly moving higher, the feeling of his wicked tongue making you grip onto the sides of the piano.

His fingers twisted into your waistband before pulling your panties down your legs and setting them on the bench next to him. Yoongi pushed your dress up to your hips to expose your dripping cunt, and his eyes blew out at the sight. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and you could see the desire, the hunger, pulsing through him. You clenched around nothing.

“Lay back for me, darling.” he instructed calmly.

Your heartbeat was deafening as your back met the wood underneath you. You let out a yelp when Yoongi wrapped his arms around your thighs and yanked you to the edge of the piano.

“Fuck. You have no idea how much I’ve been dying to taste you again.” he rasped out, and your fingers scratched against the wood.

He dove right in and started cleaning up your release, your back arching off of the piano as you gasped sharply. Yoongi ate you out messily, his grunts permeating the air while his face was buried in your cunt. The things he could do with his mouth, his tongue, had to be some kind of artform. A skill he had finely tuned much like his talent for the piano.

Your hands reached down to tangle in his long, fluffy hair as his tongue fucked into you. His nose kept bumping against your clit, making your nails scrape over his scalp.

“Oh my god, Yoongi.”

One of his hands snaked its way up your writhing body to roughly grab at your breast. Your body twisted on the wood when you felt his mouth suddenly envelop your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck. Fuck! Yoongi!” you cried out as he vigorously sucked at your clit, tongue flicking over the bud in quick strokes.

He always made you come undone with his mouth faster than anyone ever had, and today was no exception as you felt your high speeding towards you. His fingers dug into your skin harshly as he continued to eat your cunt like he was starving for you. You pulled hard against his dark strands, and Yoongi growled before grazing your clit with his teeth. Your desperate, breathy moans filled the air as you practically convulsed on top of the piano.

“Close…Yoon…” you panted out.

“Come for me, darling.” Yoongi coaxed, voice husky and dark, “Wanna feel you on my tongue.”

He nipped at your bud again, and you sobbed his name as you fell to pieces. Yoongi kept devouring your cunt until you were shivering in overstimulation and whimpering feebly. You felt him finally surface, and it took all your strength to even lift up your head to look at him.

His breathing was ragged, hair wild, chestnut irises nearly black, and his lips glistened with your release. You moaned softly as you watched his tongue swipe across his mouth to finish cleaning you off of his face. He looked absolutely wasted off of you.

“Always so fucking delicious. Could stay buried in your sweet little cunt all day.” he remarked, and you were caught off guard by how fucked out he sounded.

“I think I would die if you did.” you offered back weakly, making Yoongi laugh, his gums peeking out adorably.

“Alright, darling, watch out. I’m coming up there.” he said, and in your post orgasm haze you really thought he was joking.

But within a few swift movements, he had hoisted himself up and was hovering over your shocked figure.

“Wait, are you… You’re, you’re actually gonna fuck me on your piano?” you asked incredulously as you blinked up at him.

Yoongi shifted so you could feel just how hard he was as he brushed against you, “Wanna know a secret? It’s actually always been a fantasy of mine.”

You let out a small gasp as his admission washed over you.

“You mean, you’ve never done this? With anyone? Like ever?” you questioned further, genuinely feeling dumbfounded.

“Never.” Yoongi answered, flashing you a shy smile, “What do you say, darling? You wanna be my first?”

Your heart constricted in your chest at his choice of words. The fact that he wanted to share this first with you. That you would be the one to fulfill this fantasy for him. Warmth spread over your entire body.

“Yoongi Min, I would be honored to take your piano virginity.” you tried to say as seriously as you could manage, but as soon as Yoongi started chuckling, so did you.

“Please, taking you on my piano is my honor.” he voiced thoughtfully before leaning down to kiss you.

You immediately came to life beneath him, your hands finding their familiar home in his hair. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he devoured your mouth. Growing impatient, you made a grab for his pants. Yoongi smirked into the kiss as his hands joined yours to help free him from the confines of his clothes. He sat up momentarily to slip his white tee over his head and sweep his messy locks back from his face, top half bare except for the silver chain laying against his skin.

You shamelessly ogled his broad chest and defined muscles, your eyes trailing down his body to his achingly hard cock that bounced back up against his stomach.

“God,” you whispered as you reached for him, “you are so fucking hot.”

Yoongi flushed at the compliment, letting out a hiss when your eager hand wrapped around him a moment later.

“Like it’s seriously unfair.” you whined as you began giving him a few teasing pumps, and Yoongi groaned beautifully in response.

“What’s unfair is how unbelievably sexy you look right now. Fucked out on top of my piano, just waiting to be stuffed full of cock. Begging to be aren’t you, darling?”

God, he was so fucking hot when he was cocky. You needed him so bad, there was no point in delaying things any further. You released your hold on him and stretched your arms out above your head, inviting him with your eyes, “Do your worst, piano man.”

“Oh, I am going to wreck you.” he growled out before descending on you, and you let out a squeal as his body pressed down on you.

He intertwined his hands with your own, keeping them pinned above your head as his tip prodded at your entrance. He gave them a tight squeeze as he began pushing further past your walls, both of you moaning out at the sensation of feeling him inside you again. You arched into him at the stretch, and Yoongi placed a kiss on your shoulder.

“Always so tight, darling, fucking hell. You take my cock so well. Love fucking you open like this, feels so good.”

You preened at his praise, your head shooting up suddenly to connect your lips. Yoongi groaned into your mouth, finally bottoming out inside of you. Your legs came up to wrap around his waist as you kissed him furiously. Yoongi squeezed against your intertwined hands while he slowly drew back out before slamming all the back in with a harsh thrust that knocked all the air from your lungs. He quickly created a rhythm, driving his cock between your walls in swift, but powerful movements, your body sliding further up the piano with each stroke.

“Fuck…Yoongi.” you moaned brokenly as you lost the energy to keep kissing him.

He breathed hot air into your mouth as he continued fucking the life out of you. You held each other’s hands so tight it hurt, but it also served as an anchor to this moment and to each other. Yoongi grunted, hips snapping roughly with every thrust. Your head was starting to go fuzzy again, and you knew you wouldn’t last super long after he’d already pulled two orgasms from you today.

Yoongi released your hands suddenly, his fingers immediately snaking into your hair, tangling and pulling at the strands. Your hands latched onto his broad shoulders, and dug into his skin as he reached the deepest part of you again and again. Yoongi let out a snarl, “Fuck. You gonna scratch me up again today? Love when you leave your mark on me. A reminder of just how good I fuck you. Isn’t that right, darling?”

But you were beyond words, only able to respond with moans and whimpers as you clenched around him.

“Your perfect little cunt is squeezing me so tight, shit. You gonna come for me again, darling?”

Tears blurred your vision. Everything felt too good. Yoongi felt too good. His cock dragged inside of you at an agonizing pace, making you feel every inch of him. You bit down hard on Yoongi’s shoulder as your nails raked down his back, pulling a string of moans from him in response.

You felt one of his hands leave your hair and trail down the length of your body. His fingers strummed across your aching clit, and you let out a scream as everything inside of you snapped. Yoongi swore loudly as you came all over his cock, and he began fucking you with renewed vigor. You just held onto him for dear life, body shuddering, as he chased his own high.

He fisted your hair tightly in his free hand, groaning and panting as he continued rutting into you. His other hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, like he was holding onto you for dear life too. His thrusts began to stutter, and he leaned down to clumsily kiss you.

“Ah,” he moaned against your lips, “ah fuck.”

He twitched inside of you, and then he was coating your walls with his own release. Yoongi practically collapsed on top of you, his hair tickling your face as the two of you fought to catch your breath.

“Well…your fantasy…was it everything…you’d dreamed of?” you managed to ask, threading one of your hands through his fluffy locks.

You felt Yoongi smile against you, and your heart skipped in your chest.

“More…it was more. Reality topped fantasy…hands down. You topped fantasy.”

Your face warmed at his words, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi.

“I mean, technically…I actually bottomed fantasy.” you quipped back, and he nipped your neck in response, making you giggle wildly.

“Brat. I was trying to be sincere with you. I really like you, Y/N. And I hope we don’t always have to be a secret. I know you’re worried about everything with Faith, and I get it. But, at the risk of putting myself out there and sounding like an idiot, I want the day to come when I can be your boyfriend, and not just your little sister’s piano teacher that you fuck once a week. I want something real with you, and I want things to be okay between me, you, and Faith. Now would be a good time to tell me to shut up and stop wishing for a fantasy. That this is just sex, and that’s it. Just please, say something.”

You felt frozen beneath him, your tongue heavy in your mouth. One wrong word could shatter all of this. Or the right words, the true words, could be the start of something real and beautiful like Yoongi had said. He was laying so close to your heart, and the way it was rapidly pounding would probably end up giving you away anyway. He had taken the leap for you, and to you, Yoongi was more than worth the jump.

“Yoongi I, I’m falling for you. And it terrifies the hell out of me, but it also makes me feel excited, and hopeful. Being with you these last several weeks…it’s the best I’ve felt in a really long time. There definitely would have to be a conversation with Faith first, but I really want this, us, to be something real too. It’s not just sex for me anymore, and I don’t think it has been for awhile. I get butterflies when I think about seeing you. Not just fucking you. But seeing you and getting to be with you, even if it’s only for little bits at a time. Any time I can get is worth it to me, cause you’re worth it to me.”

You waited anxiously for his response, which came in the form of him covering your lips with his own, his hands coming up to cradle your face. It felt like the kiss at the piano earlier, only more sure, more confident. It was like you could feel everything that he felt for you, and you kissed him back, hoping that he could feel the same.

The two of you laid there for some time, just lazily tangled up in each other and in the fragile moment. Yoongi groaned loudly when you finally spoke up and mentioned that you should probably be heading back before Faith started to worry. He had the cutest pout on his face as he climbed down from the piano before holding out his hand to help guide you back to the floor.

“I can’t wait until you can finally just stay, and I can fall asleep next to you.” he voiced softly as he straightened his pants and retrieved his white tee from the floor.

“Me too.” you agreed, pushing up on your toes to kiss his cheek, and Yoongi immediately blushed.

“Hey, do you think I could hold onto this?” you added, gesturing at the shirt in his hands.

He gave you a gummy smile, “That’s not really keeping things a secret now is it, darling?”

“I’ll be careful with it. It’d just be nice to have a little piece of you with me.” you told him sweetly.

“Alright, it’s yours.” he said, tossing the shirt to you, “Can I keep these then? As something to remember you by.”

He bent down to pick up your panties from the floor and raised a mischievous eyebrow at you.

“Yoongi!” you exclaimed in shock, your cheeks burning.

“I’m kidding! Well, kind of.”

He flashed you a cheeky little smirk, and you shook your head at him, laughing.

“Well, if I just so happen to leave here without them, then I guess that really can’t be helped now can it?”

Yoongi hummed before stuffing the garment into his pocket.

“Yeah, guess not.” he agreed nonchalantly.

You felt your face heat once more, and you briefly turned your gaze to the piano, Yoongi’s eyes following yours.

“Shit!” he cursed suddenly, and worry immediately overtook you.

“What’s wrong?”

“It just occurred to me that I’ll never be able to play at this piano again without getting hard.”

You busted out laughing because you definitely had not been expecting that answer.

“Well, then, I guess you’ll just have to fuck me on every piano you own so that this one doesn’t feel singled out.” you quipped back as you gave him a knowing look.

Yoongi’s eyes were darkening immediately, “I think you better text your sister and let her know today’s lesson is running a little late.”

You grinned wickedly back at him, rising to the challenge.

“Whatever you say, piano man.”

#bts #yoongi #bts smut #yoongi smut #networkbangtan #thebtswritersclub #bangtansorciere #btshoneyhive #btswritingcafe #btsdreamcourt

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yuugen-benni · 7 months

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Unfair.

-Model student, that was your nickname; Your grades were good, your knowledge was even better, but like every student, anxiety and nervousness swallowed you during exams and tests. How would some BSD boys react to knowing that your grade was extremely low because of this? (Modern/ High School AU)} English is not my first language! I'm sorry! Anon request !

Kunikida adjusts his glasses more than four times while looking at your report card. His forehead is furrowed and he doesn't take his eyes off the paper. Incredulous? Not so much but shocked? for sure. His expression is so difficult to read that you think he is completely disappointed. He's not going to lie, he noticed the subtle signs of anxiety while you were taking the test but the blonde boy believed you could handle it like always, but no. Kunikida isn't mad, and in fact he went straight to talk to the principal (lucky for you he's part of the student council and your boyfriend) while making a mental note for him to calm you down before any tests.

Chuuya is angry. No. He's furious. Not with you, obviously, but with the teacher who doesn't know how to think a little with the last remaining neuron. You're literally the only student of his class who knows that the school have a library. He's more upset than you are because you try so hard to get a good grade (you even skip the dates he planned just to cram in your studies) even though you don't need it! So he will yell, he will complain...and he will spoil you to make you feel better.

Ranpo pretended he didn't care…after confronting the teacher in some way. You two are the nerdy couple in the class, although you consider each other rivals because you are always making bets and competing in tests, assignments and seminars. To be honest, Ranpo had fun seeing the smile that grew on your lips and how you told him how good your grade was...and he doesn't want things to change.

#benni #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #sorry for my bad english #bungou stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo edogawa #ranpo x reader #kunikida doppo x reader #kunikida doppo #bsd kunikida #kunikida x reader #bsd ranpo #bungou gay dogs #bungo stray dogs

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brokenpieces-72 · 14 days

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COD x Transformers

Fair warning: heavier language than what I usually write.

Not gonna lie I’m gonna need help with this if y’all want a series. I’m letting requests and comments to push this series forward, because honestly I don’t know what else to do with this.

School was so stupid, why were you even here? You see some value in the lessons, math is useful, science is good to have, understanding history is helpful, and English has you reading in a different way. Why you had to come to classes though you really don't understand. But Price suggested it, and offered to pay for it, so here you are. Of course when people know where you grow up, or rather think they know where you grow up, that means dealing with people who are either afraid of you or think they are superior to you.

At least the guys in your shop class were chill. When you first came to the class, you got some looks, but after a week they were asking questions about your life. You kept a lot of it to yourself but it was nice having people not treat you like a delinquent.

You didn't have shop though, unfortunately there had been an accident recently involving some of the power tools being damaged, with yellow tape over the doors. It meant going home early sure, but you had one more class. Some girl took a piece of gum acting like she was better than you when you told her no. There was a kid who whipped around to hand you a work sheet, and then whipped back forward as soon as you got it, despite you not doing anything to him all year. Another handful of students tagged your locker with 'gang' signs and adult photos, and you were blamed for it. If it weren't for being in school you and the principal could be on a first name basis. Half the time she'd just go straight to security footage to see what had actually happened and shut down whatever group was trying to get you in trouble.

The bell rings and you stay seated, waiting for the teacher to finish talking and others to leave before you get up, slowly inserting your books and papers into your bag, before hoisting it over your shoulder. Of course it couldn't be that easy as you're met with a small group around your desk, close enough to break your personal bubble and making it very hard to stand up without bumping one of them, you just stare at the ground off to the side.

“Pay up.” The rich boy says. For what? God knows this time. He’ll demand money for a number of things. Tiny scratch on his car, losing an “unfair” bet, or for wasting his time getting called by the principal for his own actions.

“I’m not paying for the hairline damages on your daddy’s borrowed ride, for me crushing you in whatever you considered our most recent bet, or for making you late for your work shift at kissing mommy and daddy’s ass for getting caught.” You say before sliding back in your seat away from them, and heading for the door. You turn back to push in your chair, and that’s when the rich boy’s richer girlfriend pipes up.

“Probably wouldn’t want to touch any of their bills, who knows where they stuffed them last night at the club.” She sneers leaning in. You lean in to meet her.

“Sorry you couldn’t get me for your lap dance, I had respectable company to entertain last night.” You say smugly. God that shock and disgust on her face was a thing of natural beauty. You start walking out but before you can reach the door one of the rich couple’s cronies decides to make another remark.

“Bet your mama sucked dick to get you here.” You stop dead in your tracks when you hear this. When you were younger a comment like this made you see red and it made life difficult on your mother with the amount of fights you’d get into. You see red now. You turn to them.

“Even if she was straight, your fat ass hogs all the space under the desk in the office.” With that you leave, shoving your earbuds in. As you go, you take a photo of the shop class door with the yellow caution tape over it and send it to the guys. You text them, asking if you can hang out at the junkyard.

House rule: no skipping class to come see them. If you got off early that was another story. As you leave the building, you get a text from your mom. You didn’t tell her about shop class but she asks if you’re going to the junkyard. Which means she knows even without you telling her.

Y/N: yeah, shop is cancelled.

Mom: homework?

Y/N: was going to do it there.

Mom: Sleepover?

Y/N: maybe.

Mom: stay safe.

Y/N: I will.

You sigh and finally get a reply from the guys. They’re out but they’ll see you at the junkyard. Which meant you’d be able to do some homework by yourself.

There’s one of those giant storm shelters at the yard. It used to be for sorting junk like appliances, propane tanks, electronics, car parts, etc. Any equipment or machinery in there had either been removed or was completely broken down. Now it was your gang’s pad, complete with old beat up couches, a small fridge, a few tables and chairs, and whatever project was being worked on. There was a small loft area for you as well, filled with slapping bags, blankets that rivalled Swiss cheese and ratty cushions.

When you get to the junkyard you find the hole in the fence you use to sneak in and make your way down the dirt path. As you walk you notice some of the piles had been sifted through. Odd. The guys usually waited for you before sifting through the piles. Maybe they wanted an early start before going off to do whatever they were doing now. You reach the building and plop down on one of the couches, enjoying the silence and what sounds like some more trucks dropping off junk.

Kyle reclined on the couch leaning against your shoulder to bug you. They’d brought dinner for you, and Price was supposed to arrive later tonight. Johnny and Simon were working on a car they’d been trying to fix for some time. They got a new part for it and were doing some more work. Kyle was stepping back to bug you for a bit. He sees you more focused on your text book and not saying too much.

“What is the square root of Canada?” He asks. You don’t reply, so he replies for you, taking your jaw in his hand and poorly imitating your voice. “35 to the power of-“

“Fuck off.” You mutter shoving his hand away. Kyle sits up and looks at you. Something happened today, hell something happens everyday but something has you ticked off. Kyle gets up and grabs two flashlights, before swiping the textbook out of your hands. Your shoulders slump as you take it and pull the hood up on your sweater, zipping up your coat. Kyle takes his off the couch.

“Going out!” He calls, and gets a wave from Simon.

Outside you turn on the flashlight, walking with him along the dirt trail, keeping your flashlight low. You have your hands in your pockets and you feel a pat on your bicep. Kyle hands you work gloves. You take them, and continue walking.

“What happened this time?” He asks. You bump him gently, showing silently your appreciation for his company.

“Same old.” You say. Gaz sighs.

“You can’t let it get to you.” Gaz says. “They don’t know you, so why should you let them judge you?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, they treat me like I have, and won’t stop!” You argue.

“I know I know.” Kyle says, nodding. “Nothing wrong with a few comebacks. You have to remember though you are a beast among lions.”

“What kind of a metaphor is that?” You ask, half amused, half frustrated.

“They are testing you, trying to get you to act up so they have a reason to get you into more trouble. But you’re a much more powerful being, because you are more mature. You’ve grown up faster than them and they don’t like it.”

“So this is some initiation?” You ask, as you both start going off the trail to start checking for new loads.

“Nah. They’re egging you on to see if you’ll break or try to be one of them. You refuse to be one of them, and they can see that. So they go with the former.” He explains.

“…they insulted mom.” You mutter and he stops.

“You know the truth.”

“They don’t and then they go around talking about her like she’s some whore!” You argue, getting a little upset.

“She’s not. You know that.” He says. “And that’s all that matters.”

You nod. Then you both hear something. The two of you look in the direction of the sound, towards a pile that was deflating. Animal weren’t uncommon in the junk yard. However you’ve never heard this sort of metallic animal noise. It sounds like a raptor. Kyle puts an arm out, keeping you back, and shining a light at the pile. You’re frozen in place while Kyle moves closer. He only gets a couple steps before a head pokes out and you both are still as possible.

A metallic raptor looks at the two of you tilting its head curiously.

“Please don’t quote Jurassic Park.” You say quietly. Before Kyle could respond the raptor stalks out, keeping its focus on you. You’d heard about robotic aliens online but you’d taken it in as conspiracy. Guess this is how believers are made.

The creature makes another metallic growl, sniffing at Kyle. You’re impressed he can stay so still. The raptor’s claws are razors, with its spine and head looking like it was decorated with feathers from various fan blades. It’s around your size, so Kyle is taller but he’s also unarmed. Except for the flashlight. The eyes glow as they stare at the two of you, they’re a golden yellow.

It makes another small cry before walking away, and then looking back at you.

Without thinking you slowly move towards it. Kyle tries to stop you but the raptor approaches you both again. It comes closer, until you’re eye to eye with it. Your heart is pounding, and you wonder if it can hear it. It makes an odd sound, almost like a coo. You catch a glimpse at its teeth, and they’re sharper than any nail you’ve seen.

It walks away from you, before turning back at a short distance from you both. It’s waiting.

Kyle exchanges a look with you.

“We should follow it.” You say, seeing the creature shift from foot to foot anxious. Kyle opens his mouth to argue but honestly, he doesn’t know what to make of it.

“We have to tell Soap and Ghost.” He says.

“I’ll follow it, you go get them.” You say, and start following it before Kyle can protest. Kyle texts them, instead not about to ditch you. Your mother would kill him, and she could out run him.

The critter runs up ahead and you hug after it. It waits for you to catch up before hurrying off again. In between its movements it picks around the trash looking for something. It seems to find whatever it’s looking for but you can’t make out what it is.

It keeps going and eventually rounds the bend behind a much larger pile of junk. You’re not unfamiliar with these mountains, too dangerous to scale and picking through it could cause a collapse. You hesitate now, unsure about what could be on the other side. Kyle is nervous too.

“We should wait for the others.” Kyle suggests. You don’t mind waiting. Following the creature was a complete whim. For all they knew behind the mountain was a whole flock. You look around and find a long pipe. Not perfect, but it will do. Hopefully.

You wait a while and you can hear footsteps, from two large men and the raptor. It pokes its head out and then its whole body when Ghost and Soap see it eyes wide. If Ghost is scared he doesn’t show it, Soap just tenses.

“The bloody ‘ell is that.” He asks. It comes out from its hiding place and approaches you. You approach it, meeting halfway. It claws the ground restless.

“It needs help I think.” You say looking at it. It take off yet again, and you follow it behind the mountain where you freeze up. There’s a huge dinobot before you. It’s breathing heavily, sounding like the brakes of a bus. It’s another dinosaur, but this one is huge it looks like a triceratops. It’s weak too. When you look at the raptor you see it nudging something closer to it. Mustering your courage you move closer, while the other three hold back. You find at the raptors feet are batteries.

So many questions run through your mind, but the raptor gives you this almost pleading look. You look back at the guys who look tense, but keep their lights on.

“What do we do now?”

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @tai-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666

#john soap mactavish #cod au #task force 141 x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #cod gangster au #cod x transformers #dinobots #transformers #transformers au #sounds weird I’m in #requests are open

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nutzgunray-lvt · 8 months

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I will FOREVER be salty about how Hori paints his characters with valid criticisms against the status quo as in the wrong:

Monoma - hates Bakugou, therefore hates 1A by association and is painted out to be some over the top arrogant asshole who freaks out every time they so much as breath (Monoma's not my favorite, but he's 100% right when it comes to Bakugou).

Rock Lock - doesn't want the first years (maybe also the third years, idk?) involved in the Shie Hassaikai raid due to how dangerous it is and due to having recently had a newborn son, is painted as someone who's being overprotective and unfair to these heroes in training.

Inko - isn't comfortable with Izuku continuing at UA after the Forest Camp Attack, is painted as being overprotective (I have my issues with Inko, but she had an incredibly valid point here).

The media - rightfully criticizes UA's utter inability to protect their students and reign in Bakugou's behavior (the hill I will die on), is painted as trying to unfairly persecute UA/Aizawa.

Present Mic - uses common sense to deduce that there's a traitor in UA's midst, is portrayed as being a shit stirrer who's quick to distrust his colleagues and students (another hill I'll die on).

Gran Torino (a minor one) - calls Aizawa's high expulsion rate as what it is: nasty (showing that even he has standards), is immediately corrected by Present Mic that the expulsions are "only on paper" and Aizawa truly cares deep down (which actually makes it WORSE since it stays on their permanent records regardless).

Other students taking the Provisional Exam - call out Bakugou for being an obnoxious asshole, are immediately painted as "not understanding how hard he works."

Pro Heroes and Present Mic - call out Bakugou for not taking Ochako seriously in the Sports Festival, are told to RETIRE for not understanding how Bakugou clearly works harder than anybody else to be a hero (but then Bakugou proceeds to get the second highest amount of internship offers, so idk what the fuck point Horikoshi was trying to make here).

Vlad King is a weird one because while his one-sided rivalry with Aizawa/1A is obnoxious and unprofessional, he IS a better teacher than Aizawa is and it's a point not focused on aside from an off hand comment by Aizawa. You'd think this would make him examine whether or not his beliefs are truly benefiting his students or have Nedzu call him up and say, "what's up with your class consistently underperforming against 1B?"

Best Jeanist is perhaps the ONLY Pro-Hero to see Bakugou's behavior for what it is and takes him as an intern to rectify it... but proceeds to focus on all the wrong things (his style being the main one) and not really get to the core of his goal.

Society as a whole doesn't trust heroes for a myriad of reasons (some unreasonably, some for extremely valid reasons) and are painted as being unfair and incredibly biased against heroes as a whole.

Izuku leaves UA due to AFO having Ragdoll's Quirk, is essentially ganged up on and beaten/shamed into submission by Class 1A who completely disregard his POV (I don't agree with him putting himself in this position, I'm just pointing how it makes sense narratively).

Me, trying to make sense of all of this -

Like... how is your story supposed to be nuanced and your characters three-dimensional if you paint the complainer as always in the wrong?

#mha critical #bnha critical #horikoshi critical #anti bakugo katsuki #anti shota aizawa #present mic deserves better #rock lock deserves better #neito monoma deserves better #izuku deserves better #best jeanist deserves better

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cassiopeiasdaughter · 10 months

Text

the great war

Theodore Nott xfem!reader

part of the midnights collection

December 31st, 1998

Dear Diary,

So much has happened, I don’t know where to start.

The past month has been eventful, to say the least. As far as the Horcrux hunt goes, the boys managed to destroy two of them, almost one month ago, and Hermione thinks they’ll be going to Hogwarts by the end of January.

Hogwarts has been shut down, unofficially; classes have stopped and the only ones staying there are the teachers and the students who have nowhere else to go. Professor Lupin said that most of the muggleborns have fled the country with their families.

I worry about the boys going back there, especially now, it isn’t safe with Snape as Headmaster and the Carrows there. They shouldn’t be going there alone.

The attacks against muggleborns and muggles, are more frequent now than ever. There is a station on the radio, spreading news and updating the supporters of the Order.

From what we’ve been hearing, things aren’t going as well as we’d like them to. Moody says that, even if we destroy the Horcruxes and kill Voldemort, there will still be so many Death Eaters and werewolves left and they will try to continue his work.

Not to mention, the politicians who secretly support him. It just feels like no matter what we do, they will still keep appearing. So how will it ever end?

You feel panic creeping up on you again, and you stop for a moment, laying your head on top of your desk, hoping that if you shut your eyes, you will forget everything for just a few seconds. But you don’t. Instead you decide to focus on something else and you continue writing.

Andromeda Black has been visiting us, her husband is also fighting and her daughter moved in with us. And, in case it wasn't clear, she is Dracos aunt. I think she wants to fix their relationship, Narcissa and Andromeda were close growing up and from the way she talks about her sister I can tell how much she misses her.

Draco is the only person tying her to her sister- and her old family. I am sure she is proud of him. Proud of all of them.

We, have also grown closer to them, it is ridiculous to think how every time I’d stumble across Pansy Parkinson at school, I would feel anxious over the things she would say to me, but now- now we laugh together almost every night.

We all sit together and talk about school and our past, but only about the good stuff. Pansy makes fun of Theo and Draco, and how difficult they were back at school. How Draco would constantly talk about Harry when they sat in their common room.

She remembers how one time, Blaise invented a drinking game, where every time that Draco would mention Harry, they would take a shot of whatever alcohol they had. She woke up with a pounding headache the next morning next to Theo who looked sick and Blaise who had gone to the bathroom at least three times.

And worst of all, Draco was sober and kept on blabbering about quidditch and how unfair it was that “undisciplined-Potter” won almost at every game.

Pansy told us the other day that even if things go terribly and we all die, at least she made girl-friends and didn’t end up alone with a whiny Draco and a moody Theo- her words not mine.

Theo and I have also grown close this past month. After the last time I wrote you, he visited me in my room and asked if he could sleep here. I let him in and turned the rug by my bed into a mat. Anyway, he slept there that night, and the next one and everynight after that.

He says he doesn’t get nightmares anymore, he feels safe now; and he can fall sleep easier. And to be honest, I have also been sleeping better, ever since that night. It isn’t only easier for me to fall asleep, but when I wake up I feel safe, and I can calm down faster than when I am on my own.

I didn’t realize how much I craved to be near someone until Theo started sleeping here, how easier it gets when you have someone by your side.

He usually knocks on my door a few minutes before midnight, we lay in our beds and talk until one of us falls asleep.

He is kind and funny, and if it weren’t for the War I could fall we could be more than housemates-who-can’t-sleep-by-themselves and-need-eachother. But, we could die at any moment and living in a fantasy will not help me; and neither will getting my hopes up over nothing.

We spent Christmas morning together, we woke up very early, and those who were not on a mission were still asleep. He made us spiked-hot chocolate, and we exchanged Christmas stories, until the others woke up.

That morning he told me about his childhood and how he would spend Christmas with the Malfoys, because his father didn’t want him around.

He asked me about my childhood and I told him about visits at the Burrow, and that one year when I spent Christmas at Hogwarts; raiding the kitchen with the students who were also there; and then listening to Hagrid’s stories at night.

Last week, I think the day after Boxing Day, I heard him talking in his sleep. Usually, he is the one to wake me up, whenever I have a nightmare, but that day the opposite happened.

He was thrashing in his sleep and mumbling words that I can’t remember, he told me once that he dreams of Blaises death. I woke him up and

You raise your head and look outside your window as you recall that night.

You were on your knees next to him, desperately trying to wake him up. Tears were dropping on his cheek and he kept grunting as if he was in physical pain; you shook his shoulder hard enough that he woke with a deep sigh.

The look on his face haunts you to this day, it is something you never want to see again. You lightly grabbed his face and whispered “It was only a dream.”, but he didn’t seem to believe you. He looked at you in silence, and grabbed your wrist, willing you to stay there with him and not move.

After a few minutes, he let you go and whispered “I am sorry.”, you could have just gone back to your bed, he was fine, he had snapped out of it. But you felt something tugging at your chest, and you just couldn’t let go.

You grabbed your blanket from your bed and draped it over you, as you laid down at his makeshift bed. He was nervous at first, at how different this was, from your usual sleeping situation, but after a few seconds he laid next to you and guided you to rest your head on his shoulder, while he kept you close with his arms.

You slept in each others arms that night, but when the morning came you woke up alone with only his scent there to hug you.

You never spoke about that night, and you still pretend it never happened…

In a few hours it will be new years day. 1999. I feel numb, it almost doesn’t feel real. Time is moving and the world is changing, every day, but I feel stuck. I am stuck inside this house and in this war that no-one asked for.

I keep losing people and I can’t see how that is ever going to change. I just hope, wish, that the War ends this year, and the new millennia doesn’t start with violence and death. Is it selfish to also wish that I make it out alive, without losing anyone else that I love?

You hear a knock on your door and quickly hide your diary. “Come in.”, you say and the door opens to reveal Theo in his usual sweatshirt, holding his pillow with an apologetic smile.

It is the same look he has every night, he told you once that he feels awful for burdening you like this, and as he tried to leave your room you stopped him “I want you here, it helps me too.”, you explained and he laid back down.

“Hi.” You say softly and move to your bed.

You both lay down, you on your bed and he in his; but you are both on your sides, facing eachother.

“Theo?”, you softly ask and he replies with a “mm”

“Do you think it will end?”

“The war or the world?”, he asks yawning

“Both?”

“Yes.” , he replies softly

“Which one?”

“Both.”, he says as he rests his head on his head and looks up at you “I just don’t know, which of the two, we’ll get to experience.”

“What will you do, if you survive the war?”, you ask, wanting to change the subject before a full blown existential crisis hits you, minutes before the new year.

“It depends.”, he says seriously

“On what?”

“In your scenario, will you also have survived the war?”

“I hope so.”, you say with a laugh

“Well then, there is this house that I used to visit, with my parents, when my mother was still alive”, he quickly tells you “It is in the countryside and the healers said that it would be good for her health, to live away from the city.”

“I would go there, and you should come with me.” He says and earns a surprised look form you

“You can see the stars from there, very clearly, because it is so far away from the city lights”, he begins describing in a way that tells you that, this house and perhaps the memories he has from there are significant to him.

“And it is by the coast, so you can sit by the beach and forget about anything that troubles you. And it has a huge library, with so many books, you would love it there.”, he finishes, and you can tell by his movements and the way his eyes stare into yours, that he is getting tired as each minute passes.

“Mmm sounds nice.”, you reply slowly

“What about you?”, he asks then

“Hm, if I survive this war and you are still alive I’ll make you take me to that house, because now I am curious to see it.”, you say smiling, earning a smile back from him “You don’t go there anymore?”

“No, my father couldn’t visit it; after my mother passed, it reminded him of her.”

“Do you remember her? Your mom?”, you wonder

“No, not really. I remember she was kind and quiet. Maybe it is better she died, I don’t think she would’ve survived this war.”, he says now with a hint of nostalgia in his words

“You never talk about your parents.”, he points out, not in an accusing manner, but curious.

“Yeah, I- miss them, too much. I- it hurts talking about them.”, you say and it is true.

Whenever you think of your parents questions are shot at you; Are they okay? Are they safe? Will I ever see them again? It is easier to try and forget about them; for now, until it is safe for them to be with you again.

“It is almost midnight.”, Theo says, snapping you out of your thoughts

“It is almost new year.”, you exclaim “Come here, for the countdown.”, you ask craving the feel of someone near you.

He lays on your bed, facing you still, and instinctively he grabs your hands in his as he looks at you; opening himself to you, letting his emotions and thoughts show. Letting you see them.

“Will you really take me to your lake house if we make it out alive?”, you ask half-jokingly

“It’s a beach house. And yes.”, he replies seriously

“Then I will stay alive for that.”, you promise him. You will stay alive because the world is worth saving, you will stay alive because he gives you hope and something to look forward.

You will stay alive for yourself and the people you love, but also for him. The sound of fireworks snap you out of your thoughts.

The New Year has officially come. And the person you are spending this moment with is Theodore Nott, how could anyone ever prepare you for this moment?

What could they say to convince you that someday, you would lay in your bed with Theodore Nott, exchanging happy new year wishes and laying bare your souls to eachother. Exposing every dark thought and worry, opening your hands to receive the other persons concerns and fears.

“Happy new year.”, he tells you

“Happy new year.”, you wish back and look at his face more clearly now. You notice his eyes and how easily you can lose yourself in them, and you stare at his lips as if they are the medicine to cure your symptoms. Bring you back to life.

“Theo.”, you say; barely whispering

“Yes.”, he replies in the same tone, now looking at you like he can read your thoughts. His eyes scan your face, expectantly, wanting. As if he is starved.

His look is enough for you to lean in and whisper to him, when your lips are a breath away “For good luck. For the New Year”

And with that you close the gap between you two. He slowly closes his eyes and grabs the back of your head carefully with his free hand, pulling you closer to him. You place your hand on his shoulder, resting your body on him.

The way his lips kiss yours feels like a drug. This alone, is worth fighting for. To be able to kiss him, like this. And it is solely because when you kiss eachother, it feels as if a weight is lifted off your chest, as if his hands help you carry the stone to top of the mountain.

Normally, you would blame yourself for being weak; you should be able to handle things by yourself, you shouldn’t need others to survive, that is what your mind would normally tell you, and yes normally you would agree. But there is nothing normal about this life you are currently living.

So you keep kissing him and when his mouth travels south to your neck, causing you to let out a small sigh you don’t stop him.

“For good luck.” he repeats as he takes off your shirt and kisses your skin.

“For good luck.” you repeat as you pepper kisses along his jaw and neck, while he tugs at your hips to remove the rest of your clothing.

And, later when you lay together with your clothes discarded on the floor, with his arms around you; holding you impossibly close to him and his breath fanning rhythmically in your ear, tickling you softly, you try to convince yourself that it was in fact just for good luck.

A/N: feedback and criticism are appreciated and needed ⭐️🤍 This will be continued this has been poorly proofread so, I am deeply sorry for the mistakes 🫣

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott imagine #harry potter fanfiction #theo nott imagine #theo nott x reader #second wizarding war #AU #fluff #theo nott fluff

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mc-lukanette · 7 months

Text

Luka tapped a melody on his leg while he waited for class to end. Having a girlfriend who saved Paris every few days or so, he knew she could handle himself, but there wasn't any support he could provide when he was stuck somewhere and unable to look at his texts.

Not that the risk of getting into trouble would've stopped him, but Marinette would be upset if he got in trouble over her.

She'd sent him the simplest of texts just before his current class, telling him:

One of the students in our class got akumatized... again. Don't worry about sneaking out, I can handle this.

He wanted to be able to look up how it went himself, as well as send her texts of encouragement and congratulations, but now he could only wait.

As he was lamenting his temporary "failures" as a good boyfriend, Luka was brought out of his thoughts, not by the teacher talking but by a small tug on his pant leg.

"...Luka!" a tiny, extremely familiar voice called in a hushed but thrilled whisper.

Being certain that he hadn't gone that crazy (yet) to start hallucinating Marinette's voice only made him more confused. He dropped his gaze to his pant leg to check the source of the voice, and his heart promptly caught in his throat.

Standing there was a miniature version of Marinette, roughly the size of his hand. She was decked out in a gray, black, and pink bodysuit, along with double buns rather than her usual pigtails. The latter, along with the rope "tail" around her waist, made her faintly resemble a mouse. It was an absurd level of adorable even for her.

Luka subtly looked around the room, making sure that no one was looking his way. He couldn't even begin to imagine how she'd gotten there, nor how she avoided being seen, but he did know that he should hide her as soon as possible.

Faking like he'd dropped a utensil of his, he leaned down. Marinette bounced excitedly in response, arms going up the instant his hand was within reach. His skin tingled where her tiny fingers touched, her body smoothly moving along with his movements so he could scoop her up.

He'd chosen to wear a hoodie that day, but dropping her into the hood itself was risky. Someone could easily catch the movement and she'd have to stay perfectly still so as to not puzzle anyone who might sit behind him.

The choice of the pocket at the stomach of his hoodie was the obvious and safest decision, so he slipped his hand into the open slot at one of the pocket's sides to let her go. Unfortunately, he hadn't realized that he was ticklish there until Marinette squirmed about to try and get comfortable.

His poker face saved him from outing his tiny girlfriend's cruelty to the class, though he must've at least gone stiff since he swore he could hear her giggling in realization. What did he do to deserve this?

——

"Not that I'm not happy to see you," Luka began the moment he was able to get away from everyone, "but why are you here?"

He held Marinette in both hands, letting her sit on one and lean against the other. She looked absolutely comfy and proud of herself, crossing one leg over the other as she replied, "I finished the akuma pretty fast, but since the school was already evacuated, we got to go home for the day."

He looked her up and down in a show of but you're not home, you're here, and also the much more obvious, you're pocket-sized.

She chuckled. "Well, after someone told me how unfair it was that I couldn't use my miraculous to make up for all the time I lose being Ladybug, I may have convinced the guardian to let me have the mouse miraculous."

"It lets you shrink?"

She nodded. "Sort of. It divides me." She counted off with her fingers, though not to any particular number. "You can divide yourself into multiple, um, selves? Or versions of yourself? So there are actually a few other Marinette back home taking care of some of my—" She squinted, having confused herself. "—or is it our? Our projects."

Like a fool, he'd truly thought that the whole "adorable tiny mouse girlfriend" thing couldn't get better, but apparently there were multiple of her now.

"Anyway," she said dismissively, brushing off the conundrum, "we figured out how to divide up what we should do, and I was the luckiest." She giggled, clasping her hands together and beaming up at him affectionately. "Sorry if I scared you a little bit, but I really wanted to come. I've always wanted to go to school with you."

"Oh, Marinette..." His voice wavered, touched. "Me too."

He used his thumb to stroke her cheek. Even as tiny as she was, his hearing fixated entirely on the delighted hums she let out at the contact. She leaned her face into his touch, running her hand along the rest of his thumb to return the caresses.

The walk from Marinette's house to his school was excessive for her to walk normally: feasible, but it was never realistic for her to transfer even if they were in the same grade. Ladybug had her yoyo to swing from, but the mouse clearly didn't have anything similar to use, so Luka couldn't imagine a tiny thing like her going all the way from her own house to his school just to see him.

He sighed blissfully, insisting, "I'm the lucky one."

He was sure they'd never be able to agree which of them was luckier, but that wouldn't stop him from voicing his opinion.

——

Unwilling to miss out on an opportunity to have lunch - even if it was just a school lunch - with his girlfriend, he made an excuse to his friends about "his muse acting up." It wasn’t technically a lie, though he still had to bring a notebook to fake like he was working. That was the convenience of having the school he did, meaning that there were a lot of creatively-inclined students who often did the same and thus not a single odd look would be shot his way.

He'd planned it out well enough to get a small table by himself in the corner, allowing him to easily talk to Marinette so long they were careful. There was another notebook opened and propped up behind her, allowing her to hide whilst still having some mobility atop the napkin he'd placed down for her to sit on.

Plus, the one thing he could count on was for teenagers to be teenagers: getting lost in their own conversations and ignoring everything else around them.

"I want to meet your friends properly someday," Marinette admitted while she watched him sort the food he'd put hastily onto his tray. "They sounded nice."

"I'm sure they'd love you," Luka assured, talking softly so to avoid drawing attention. Most people would probably think he was mumbling lyrics to himself. "They already ask about you."

"Wait—" Panic took over her face. "A-and you answered?!" She threw her arms up, gesturing wildly at him. "But you're too biased. What if their expectations are too high?!"

He picked up the apple from his tray, turning it a few times with a critical eye. Unphased by the accusation, he asserted, "I don't exaggerate, Marinette. I just told them exactly how you are."

Once he found what he determined to be the best part of the apple, he broke off a piece to offer to his pouting girlfriend.

"Thank you," she made sure to say, before getting right back to their conversation. "I'm just... nervous. Since I have to deal with hero stuff, I don't have as many chances to prove that I'm a good girlfriend. My DPS has been really bad lately."

"DP—" Luka's face scrunched up in thought. "...That's something from the video games you play, right? Damage... Per Second?"

"I can't believe you remember something like that!" She giggled, delighted. "But yeah, that's what it means, only for this it's Dates Per Strike, as in Hawk Moth striking Paris."

He frowned disapprovingly. "Marinette..."

"I know!" She bit into the apple piece almost aggressively, then swallowed so she could continue, "You don't care about that, but I do. I don't want people to think that I'm not treating you right."

"Let them think whatever they want," he huffed, biting into the apple actually aggressively. He didn't blame Marinette for the mindset that she had to take on as Ladybug - that public opinion was incredibly important - but he hated the idea of her stressing herself out over something so unimportant in her civilian life. She had enough stress as it was and he wouldn't ask her to do anything different even for his own friends.

"Still. I want to do it for me too," she argued. "We can't plan around Hawk Moth. I didn't have much of a life before I became Ladybug, but now..."

He chewed while he considered that, the bad taste in his mouth at how troubled she was overpowering the sweetness of the apple. Even the sticky sensation on his lips was suddenly unpleasant, but as he licked his lips to remove it, an idea struck.

He surveyed the cafeteria, noting that the predictability of the average teenager remained true: they were entirely disinterested in him. It was good, because he'd have no way to explain what he was about to look like.

"Luka?" Marinette called in curiosity, setting her apple piece aside and watching his hand grip the top of the notebook to slide it closer to her. He didn't want to corner her, but he needed the coverage.

His forearm opposite of the hand on the notebook rested on the table for support, allowing him to lean down. Then, bringing his face as close to her as he could, he closed his eyes and placed a kiss against Marinette's shoulder.

"A-ah~!" She squeaked, flailing in surprise. "Luka! W-we're in public!"

It was bold of her to say that after traveling all the way to his school and sneaking into his class just to see him. Doubly bold was her acting as if she was concerned about it when she was audibly buzzing with excitement.

Undeterred, he placed another kiss at the side of her head. Two tiny hands weakly attempted to push his lips away, so he kissed them too, earning another squeak as Marinette recoiled.

Leaning back just enough to look at her without crossing his eyes, he reminded her, "We don't need to plan for that."

She was blushing up to her ears, her words coming out only as sounds while she attempted to calm herself down. He wasn't sure how memories worked out when all the Marinette joined back together, but he'd happily kiss each one of them in the same way just to make sure it stuck.

Taking a deep breath, Marinette tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking away as she admitted, "Y...you're right. I guess we don't need to p-plan for what matters."

Luka smirked, triumphant.

——

The rest of lunch went on uneventfully. Marinette eventually calmed down enough to ask for a bit more of Luka's lunch and he was happy to oblige. It really did feel like they were on a date, and the mental image of her bragging to the other Marinette about it made him chuckle.

When it was time to head out, Luka started cleaning up the table. Marinette stepped off the napkin so he could put it on the tray, and he stashed his inspiration notebook (that actually did end up having some new melodies in it, courtesy of his tiny muse) back in his bag. He only put the other notebook away once Marinette had safely dropped down onto his lap.

"Can I stay in your hood for the rest of the day?" she asked while he was zipping up his bag. "If you put it up, I should be able to hide where it's dark."

He nodded. He wasn't sure why she wanted it, but supposed that it was boring laying in his hoodie pocket and only being able to hear things. At least this way, she could peek out when she was certain no one was looking at him.

He ducked down, feigning that he was picking up his bag from the floor as he brought Marinette up to his shoulder. He waited for her weight to leave his hand, then went and pulled his hood up.

Standing up slowly to allow her time to get into position, he grabbed his bag and put the strap around his shoulder. He was about to pick up his tray as well to take it away, but froze as he felt a tingling sensation against the back of his neck, sending a shiver up his spine.

The giggle that followed led to one conclusion: Marinette must've kissed him there, and it was that moment where he understood her true motives.

"Sorry," he heard her say, not at all apologetically. "I promised the other Marinette that I would give you one for each of us. I'll make sure to spread them out over the rest of our school day though."

He supposed he deserved it this time.

#queuekanette #lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukamouse #((Yes there are no timers in this.))

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baileypie-writes · 4 months

Note

shouko + protective reader? shouya’s middle school bullying era, he’s doing all that shit cause he thinks he’s cool. reader jumps in and genuinely bodies him verbally, asking why he even does any of it, wanting to protect her best friend.

honestly forgot about a silent voice for a while 😭 one of my favorite anime movies though. love your writing.

A/N ~ Sure! And thank you for liking my writing🩷Hope you enjoy!

~Where did Your Mother go Wrong Raising You?~

Shouko Nishimiya + Fem!Protective!Reader

Part 2, Part 3

Fandom: A Silent Voice

Reader: Female

Relationship: Platonic

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Synopsis: You’re tired of Shoya bullying your best friend, so you chew him out.

Warnings: Bullying, swearing, mention of blood(Shouko’s).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eight.

Eight goddamn hearing aids.

Who did this Shoya boy think he was? Bullying a deaf girl, and destroying her hearing aids? And not only that, no one defended her besides you. While the little devil committed his sins, your classmates just laughed along with him. What kind of class is this? Was no one a decent person?

You were more than tired. You were just about ready to destroy this kid. All you needed was an opportunity. Lucky for you, one came.

~~~~

The entire class waited for the teacher to arrive. He was taking his sweet time, so most students were messing around. But not you. You could never have a moment of peace during school. Nearly every second was spent monitoring Shoya, making sure he didn’t try anything.

You glanced over at Shouko. You smiled, as she looked peaceful. She was wearing her shiny new hearing aids. But your smile faded as you caught a glimpse of the scar on her ear. She got that when Shoya ripped her last hearing aids out, causing her to bleed. Just the memory made you feel angry.

Shouko noticed you staring, and lightly smiled at you. “Something wrong?” She signed over to you.

“No. Just looking at your new hearing aid.” You signed back.

“What are you guys talking about?” Shoya interrupted. You groaned, not wanting to deal with him.

“Nothing you need to care about.” You said, a thick attitude in your voice.

“Woah, calm down. I just think it’s a little unfair that you guys are having your own secret conversation.” He said, crossing his arms.

You huffed. “Well, it wouldn’t be secret if you bothered to learn sign language. You can’t just complain about not understanding something when you’re too lazy to learn it.”

Shouko looked confused. “What are you talking about?” She signed. But you didn’t have the chance to answer.

“Who’re you calling lazy? You know what, I don’t care. Why would I listen to someone who’s so desperate for friends, that she hangs out with the freak?” He says as he walks over to Shouko. He reaches over to, once again, take her hearing aids, his friends laughing in the background.

That was it. You shot up from your seat, and grabbed Shoya’s wrist. “Shouko is not the freak! You are! You’re so close minded, that you can’t handle the simple fact that someone can’t hear. I mean, honestly, it’s not that complicated. But I guess you can’t handle complicated things. Hell, you can’t even keep the tag inside your shirt.” You pointed to the fabric sticking out of his top.

The class laughed, including Shoya’s friends. He didn’t like that. He yanked his wrist away, and made another attempt to steal Shouko’s hearing aids. But you were quick, and shoved him away. You got in front of poor, confused Shouko, guarding her.

“Why do you even do it? Do you take pleasure in seeing others suffer? What the fuck is wrong with you? Where did your mother go wrong raising you?” Shoya froze at the mention of his mom. You knew that was his weakness, so you kept going.

“I’ve met your mom. She cuts my hair, and she’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met. How in the world did her son turn out to be the spawn of Satan himself? I bet she doesn’t even know. What would you think if I went over to your house after school, and told her all you’ve done? I’m sure she’ll be very upset with you. And hey, if she doesn’t beat your ass, I’ll gladly do it.” You finally finished. And just in time too, because the teacher finally arrived.

“What’s going on?” He asked, noticing the silence in the room.

“Nothing, Mr. Takeuchi.” Shoya mumbled, making you grin.

Everyone went to their seats, and Mr. Takeuchi began class. You still kept an eye on Shoya, but he didn’t seem to be planning anything. At least for today.

Suddenly, Shouko waved your attention to her. She had a small smile on her face as she signed “Thanks.”

You smiled too, and signed back to her. “No problem. I’m always here for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

#baileypie-writes #a silent voice #a silent voice x reader #shouko nishimiya #shouko nishimiya x reader #shouko nishimiya x reader platonic

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pipsipey17 · 1 year

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love and literature | chapter 1: never be the same.

professor!natasha romanoff x college student!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist

summary: you hate the subject and you hate the teacher. but don't worry, she hates you too.

contains: none as of now :>>

next chapter

Your grades were out today and you were nervous, especially for your grade in Russian Literature 2. You checked your card and you got a 2.0 to a 1.0 for your subjects which was no surprise to you at all but when your eyes landed at your grade for Russian Literature 2 you felt your anger slightly rise, it was 2.75 and it was also your lowest grade.

“What the hell? I did everything and this is the grade that I got?!” you exclaimed in anger.

“Let me check mine,” Wanda said, then she checked her card and you saw that her grades ranged to 2.0 until even a 1.0, your eyes widened at her grade in Russian Literature 2, it was 1.5.

“What the fuck? I knew it, she hates my guts for no goddamn reason. This is just unfair.” you groaned in annoyance then slumped onto your chair.

“Are you really sure you didn’t do anything to make her hate you?” Wanda asked.

You shook your head and said, “None that I can think of.” Wanda then raised a brow at you, “Remember the time when you wanted to drop out of her class during the first day? Also the little stunt you pulled during her class?” she asked you.

“What stunt? I just fell asleep in her class, that’s it.”

“Well yeah, but still, it pretty much pissed her off even more.” Wanda said and you rolled your eyes in response, “But after that day she has been attacking me non-stop during her class even though I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Probably because you left a very bad impression on her.” Wanda replied.

“There must be some mistake, do we seriously have Russian Literature 2 as an extra co-curricular?” you immediately said as you received your schedule for the second semester.

“I heard that we have a new Russian Literature teacher though.” Wanda said.

“Please, what’s only going to make me happy about that class is when I get to drop out of it.”

“Oh come on, Russian Literature isn’t even that bad.”

“Yeah right, says the person who gets a surprising grade of 1.25 from that class.” you said sarcastically, “I’m seriously going to drop out, I’ve had enough of this subject.” you continued then started walking towards your Russian Literature professor’s office.

You slammed the door open then immediately approached the professor and said, “I’d like to drop out.” The woman sitting in front of you was busying herself on her laptop, her green eyes left the screen when you spoke.

You made eye contact with the woman and you were immediately taken aback by her beauty. You never really thought that she could be attractive, her aura was screaming dominance and it was making you feel a bit small.

She raised an eyebrow at you and said, “What makes you think I’ll allow that?”

“You will, because I already took this subject last semester-” the professor in front of you interrupted you, “I believe that you’re going to take Russian Literature 2 this semester correct?” She asked and you lightly nodded in response, “Well then Miss… whoever you are, if you do drop out this semester you will automatically fail and you’re going to be required to take this subject for your third semester, so whether you like it or not you’re required to take this subject. I’ll see you later in my class.” she concluded.

You wanted to say something or at least anything at this point but your mouth didn’t want to move at all, you just turned around and slammed the door shut behind you.

“So, what happened?” Wanda asked.

You huffed out in annoyance, “She said if I do drop out I’ll fail and be required to take the subject in my third semester.”

“Told you it wasn’t going to work. I did hear from the others though that Miss Romanoff is pretty strict and intimidating so you definitely just ruined your chances of having a high grade for that class.” Wanda said and it made your brows furrow together.

It was time for your Russian Literature 2 class and you immediately tensed up when your professor spoke, “Good afternoon class, I am professor Romanoff and I will be your new Russian Literature teacher.” she said with confidence.

“You didn’t tell me that she was hot.” Wanda whispered to you.

“Seriously Wanda? You’re already ogling on our new teacher?”

“Says the one who’s into redheads.” then Wanda nudged your shoulder, “I know she’s definitely your type.” she teased.

“Wanda, she’s literally the teacher who didn’t allow me to drop out of this fucking class.”

“And most of all, I won’t tolerate any unnecessary noises while I’m talking.” you suddenly heard your professor which made you stop talking to Wanda. “Is that clear for the two ladies at the back?” she continued, “I know that one of you is not interested in this class so you are free to leave and not attend my classes but be sure to comply with all your activities.” then every single one of your classmates looked at the both of you. You bowed your head in humiliation but it was definitely pissing you off even more.

A few moments later you pushed your chair back and got up, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to her, I’d already have enough of her bullshit this quarter.” you then walked out of the library and went straight to her office.

You were back in here again, the place where you first met your most hated professor who is undeniably gorgeous even for you, but all you felt for the woman right now was hate, after all the unnecessary humiliations you received from her throughout the quarter.

You opened the door and were immediately greeted by the scent of lavender perfume, you stood in front of her desk and said, “I’d like to talk about my grade.” you directly said to her.

“And what about it, Miss Hill?” she asked.

“I’d like to know why and how my grade became a 2.75 when I submitted and passed every single assignment.”

You swear you saw her smirk to herself before she said, “You did submit your assignments on time, but most of your answers were wrong in one of those and you failed almost every quiz and you even failed your midterm exam.”

It made you stand still, you knew that you failed some of her quizzes but you were pretty sure that you passed the midterm exam and most of her assignments.

“If that’s all you need to know why you have the grade that you have, I suggest you leave,” your professor said then she stood up and grabbed your chin with her thumb and pointer finger making you look directly at her green eyes, “I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”

You immediately walked out of her office all hot and flustered, you took a deep breath and then grabbed your phone from your pocket to text Wanda that you were going home.

~~~

“Hey, I’m home.” you said as you entered the home that you live in with your sister, Maria.

As you were placing your jacket on the coat hanger you noticed that there was someone else’s jacket, it wasn’t your sister’s that’s for sure. Then, it suddenly hit you, Maria said that her best friend was going to visit today and you had totally forgotten about it, making you mentally slap yourself.

You haven’t really met your sister’s best friend, she would sometimes tell you tiny bits about her best friend but other than that, you really don’t know her, not even her face, you only know that her name is Natasha, and the name just reminds you of that professor of yours.

Due to the fact that your parents had separated and you used to stay with your father in England while Maria stayed with your mother. When you told Maria that you were going to study college in America, she was thrilled, she even offered for you to move in with her and you happily accepted.

“I’m in the kitchen!” you hear your sister yell, she’s probably cooking something you thought.

You walked to the kitchen and saw that your sister was cooking what seems to be some pasta. She looked behind her and greeted you, “Hey sis,” then you approached her and hugged her.

“I’d like you to finally meet my best friend, Natasha.” your sister said as she gestured to the bar counter and you were immediately met with a very familiar fiery red hair also the very recognized emerald green orbs. Your eyes widened in shock after seeing who your sister’s best friend was.

Her best friend was your goddamn Russian Literature professor.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x yn #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #black widow x yn #marvel #avengers #avengers imagines #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #avengers x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #marvel fanfiction #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic

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