#and almost kills him like. that book fucked me up when my third grade teacher read it to me

[fallowfield]

i think that the mom IMMEDIATELY asking dw why she wants to freeze a snowball is the funniest shit like. she knew better than to just say yes to her daughter who loves tormenting her older brother wanting to freeze something that can later be thrown at him

#crops #it rminds me of the novel where a kid throws a snowball thats partially melted and it hits his teacher in the head #and almost kills him like. that book fucked me up when my third grade teacher read it to me #that and the one about the autistic girl with a dead older brother who was in boyscouts #i understood her fully and i had no idea why everyone else made fun of her and called her weird. three years later i was diagnosed. #<- everyone else in my class i mean. #the books are Because of Mr. Terupt and Mockingbird but the latter uses asperger's. jic anyones uncomfortable w that term

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Teacher's Pet

Aizawa's got eyes for his new teacher's assistant. Reader was is a former student of his.

tw: smut, noncon, drugging, yandere-ish, penetration

AN: My computer deleted the original version of this fic so I anger-rewrote it. Not edited.

You were always Aizawa's favorite. Never rude or lazy. And you always trusted his decisions. That's why - after a few years - when you decided to try your hand at teaching he volunteered to train you has his Teacher's Assistant. You looked the same, just a little more mature. You still looked at the man with the same doe eyed expression, waiting for his next direction. You were no longer his student and he didn't need to keep his mind from wandering.

Aizawa invited you over under the guise of grading papers. In attempt to make the task less boring, he poured two glasses of wine.

"Aizawa-sensei, how late is it?" You yawned.

Your mentor glanced at his phone, "You know you can call me Shota. It's only going to be 9, if you're tired we can finish this another day."

Nodding you attempted to stand, but plopped back down because the room began to spin. Maybe it was the alcohol mixing with your exhaustion but your body felt heavy and sluggish.

"I didn't realize you weren't much of a drinker," Aizawa laughed, extending his arm toward you. "Here, let me help you up."

You managed a few steps before taking a break to collect your bearings. On second thought, it couldn't be the wine, you only had a single glass. Then the room began to shift. Aizawa had picked you up. He was talking to you, something about being worried for your safety. You weren't fully listening, it was a pain just trying to concentrate.

When did you get on a bed?

You felt the mattress shift as Aizawa sat beside you. "I think you should just sleep it off here, I know you're pretty tough but right now you look like a confused little kitten."

Taking a deep breath you tried sitting up, "No, I shouldn't-"

The older man was on top of you. Tendrils of his hair reached down to graze your face. He smells so good, you couldn't put your finger on it but he smelled like comfort.

You snapped out of your trance when you felt a tug at your waist. Aizawa, your mentor, was pulled off your pants. When had he removed your shirt?

"Sensei, stop-"

Aizawa smashed his lips against yours. He had one had tangled in your hair to keep you from squirming away from his attack. "Are you gonna be a good girl and open your mouth for me?"

Heat was coursing throughout your body. You were embarrassed, upset, scared, but also curious. Of course your body was feeling good, but this wasn't what you wanted. You shook your head before he caught your lips again. You kept them firmly pressed together, denying his tongue entrance. But then dug his nails into your soft hips so hard that you had to cry out in pain. After exploring with his tongue he pulled away from you.

"See, that's not so hard."

To make everything worse, he had skillfully removed your bra while you were distracted.

He licked his lip as you took in your body, the only thing left was your underwear. Kneeling on the bed, between your spread legs, he place a hand under either knee. With a quick pull he dragged you toward him. Your ass was elevated, resting on the top of his thighs; gravity making your breasts perkier than they already were. If he had drugged you it must've fully kicked in because no matter how hard you will your arms, they wouldn't move.

His knuckles grazed between your thighs making tears escape your eyes.

"Oh kitty, you've soaked through your panties," he pressed a little harder against the material. "You always caught the eyes of so many of the boys. I wondered if you knew. If you acted naive around them as a way to tease. How many of them succeeded?"

You didn't respond.

Hooking a finger under you panties he moved them to the side, exposing your glistening pussy. Whimpering you begged him once more to stop. Maybe if you told him you were too tired he'd leave you alone.

"I know honey, once we're done it'll be bedtime. If you avoid my questions we're gonna have to stay up later. Tell me how many boys you let crawl between your legs. What'd they do that made you feel good?"

All the while his hand never stopped rubbing against you.

Your words came out choppy, between tearful gasps, "Please, Aizawa sensei, I don't want to. I promise, I never-"

A shiver racked your body when he began rubbing circles around your clit. You jerked away from him. You think you were strong enough to pull away but maybe he just wanted an excuse to reposition you. He leaned forward, giving your body a break and smiled against your neck, "Is my kitty a virgin?"

Humiliated you nodded your head. You never really stopped to think about your lack of a sex life, none of your peers ever caught you attention in that way. You just wanted to become a pro and prove yourself to your role model, the man on top of you.

"How perfect are you," he cooed. He moved to sucking an nipping at your breasts, leaving a trail of marks from your neck like a map. "How about we go slowly. I know they taught sex ed but real life is always different from a text book. Let me know if you have any questions, you know I'm a good teacher."

A calloused finger slid inside you. You focused on your breathing, everything was okay. It was uncomfortable but not unbearable. He moved his finger slowly, taking in how tight your felt. He didn't want your first time to be unnecessarily painful. You were mortified when he removed his finger from you and brought it to his lips. He groaned as his licked two fingers.

"You're doing so good, baby. Can you take a big breath for me?" Two fingers slid inside you, there wasn't much resistance but you felt the pressure change. You couldn't help with whine. "That's my good girl. We're gonna do three now, okay?"

Fuck. Three was too much. You felt like you couldn't take any more. Then, with his fingers still inside of you be began playing with your clit again. Your body tensed as electricity coursed from your core. The moan that poured from your lips was involuntary. More juices pooled beneath you. You kept shaking while Aizawa withdrew from you.

"Such a messy girl," he kissed you. "That's exactly what we want."

Becoming acutely aware that his erect cock was resting below your belly you looked for the first time. You weren't sure what to expect when it came to the size of any dick but certainly not what was before you.

"Wait, can we stop," you found your voice. "It's too big, I don't think I can do it."

"Trust me, it'll fit. It may be a little painful at the beginning because it's your first time but then it'll feel good. Just like how I made you feel good with my hands."

The anticipation was killing him. Aizawa was trying to keep your attention by praising you while he teased around your soaking entrance with the head of his cock.

You hissed, pushing weakly against Aizawa's chest, as he entered you. He moved slowly, frustratingly slow. He wanted nothing more that to push in to you, to make you hurt in the best way. Your walls felt so tight and warm against him that if he was a less experienced man would've already finished him.

Finally at his base you earned more praise, "Fuck, kitten, you're taking me so well. Already making me feel so good and it's only your first time. I'm gonna try to go slow but - fuck - tell me if it starts getting to rough."

After a few moments you began to acclimate and the pain eased up. But every time his hips fully met against you you were reminded his girth. You involuntarily jerked against him as that feeling of electricity began to manifest in your core. He was beginning to pick up the pace and couldn't keep from arching against him. Sparks shot through your body as he bit into your shoulder. Your walls spasmed around him. You could hear him praising you as almost completely pulled out just to thrust back into you. Repeating the motion and filling the near silence with the sound of your wetness.

Maybe something in your broke or maybe it was a defense mechanism but your started to rationalize the situation. You body did feel physically good. And lord know's you always had a thing for the hero. This would be perfect if he had gone about things the right way. You wanted some sense of control so you did the only thing you could think of.

"Sh-Shota," You moaned into his ear. Your nails digging in to his back.

"Fuck, say it again," he growled. No longer able to control his pace he moved harder and faster. Tomorrow there would be plenty of proof on your body that Aizawa had been there. "Be my good girl and say it again."

You weren't going to, but you were speaking before you realized, "Shota, I can't-"

If he kept going like this you knew hit your third orgasm of the night. You didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

"You're going to. Show me that you can be a good little whore and listen to teacher."

As if on cue you were seeing stars. Aizawa moaned into you neck and buried his cock deep inside of you. There was a new sensation and your realized that he wasn't wearing protection. His hot cum was filling you to the brim. "Wait, I'm not on the pill"

After a few more pumps he froze inside of you, "That's so fucking hot."

He pulled out and a mixture of both your fluids followed. He rolled to the side of you and brought you close to his chest.

"I'm so proud of you, you were such a good girl."

You interrupted, maybe he hadn't heard you, "I'm, I'm not on the pill."

"That's okay, I wouldn't want you to be, you're all mine. You need to sleep, we can take a bath in the morning."

You were tired, even though it felt like your mind was beginning to clear. Like a cornered animal you felt trapped. Aizawa kept whispering as you closed your eyes. He mentioned something about next time feeling better for you. That he was going to take such good care of you. How he didn't share.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #bhna smut

[justallofmyfandoms]

Revenge is best served Small

Reader x Fred Weasley

Reader x George Weasley

NO TWINCEST!!

SMUT! SMUT! SMUT!

(Just to make this less awkward on all of us, yes I am clearly going through some stuff, and yes everyone enjoys what happens to them in this, even if it's reluctantly. Nothing unconsensual. 6,486 words)

[There’s a comment on this post that perfectly summarises it: “i have no idea what just happened to me all i know is that i will never be the same after reading this” so... read at your own risk my dudes, I am so sorry]

You slam a fist into the common room desk, glaring down at your potions homework with enough anger to perform the killing curse on it. Or maybe crucio would be better, just so the homework can suffer all the same pains it's inflicting on you.

A chair at the table scraps against the floor with someone plonking themselves on it. You look up to see Fred Weasley, leaning over the desk to stare down at your paper, "Having trouble with your potions essay?" He asks, evidently just to piss you off because it's pretty obvious you were.

"Bugger off, Weasley. We can't all pay zero attention during class and still get perfect grades" you focus back on your work, but not fast enough to miss Fred's shit eating grin.

"Still mad I got a better grade on our end of semester test?"

"No!" You snap back, perhaps a little too quickly. It made the ginger chuckle. You and the twins had been good friends since first year, but it infuriated you to no end every time they got a good grade, because you just knew it was all talent and no effort.

The twin crossed his arms and leant them on the table, scooting closer to you, "Not that I don't love the look of anger on your face, but why does it annoy you so much? You've been going on about this for six years"

"It doesn't matter, I just wanna get this stupid essay over with!" you complain, throwing your quill on the desk, "Where's your brother, anyway? He said he would help me."

Fred pats your head and sighs, "Ditched by your own boyfriend? There's tragic..." You knew he was just being a prick, Fred always did enjoyed teasing you, but you hadn't seen George all day. It was beginning to worry you. Besides, you two had made it a tradition to do your potions homework together ever since third year.

"He actually sent me here to apologise. He's at tonight's party up in Ravenclaw tower. The ol' sod's drunk a bit too much to help out I'm afraid"

You sit up and frown, the anger being pushed to the back of your mind out of newfound sadness, "Oh... he could have at least told me he was going to the party..."

Fred nods sympathetically, but eventually grins and scoots closer, "In the meantime, how about a deal?" You'll be getting whiplash from all these emotions. First anger, then hurt, and now Fred was making you highly suspicious. He has that expression he gets when dreaming up a crazy plan.

"If you help me with a little scheme I've concocted, I'll help you finish your essay" he continues since the only reaction you initially gave was a squint.

"What kind of scheme?"

He drums the table, bitting back a smile that might warn you off, "I've come up with a new product idea, but in order to make it, I need a very rare ingredient that can only be found in one place"

You sigh, resting your cheek against your raised fist, "Snape's supply closet..."

He points at you like in charades, "Exactly!"

"How do I know you'll actually help me? Making a deal with you is a bit like making a deal with the devil"

"We'll get the essay done tonight!" He declares, spinning the paper to face him, and picking up a nearby quill, "Then tomorrow, you'll help me get the potion"

After a fair amount of consideration, you nod, "Alright, deal!"

"Remind me again what the plan is?" You and Fred were stood in the women's bathroom on the first floor, a bathroom you generally tried to avoid as it was occupied by a particularly annoying ghost called Moaning Myrtle. She didn't seem to be revealing herself though, which you assumed had something to do with Fred teasing her about her nickname and the... other connotations "moaning" has.

Fred took a small vial from his trouser pocket. The contents were green and bubbling, "First, I'll drink this shrinking potion, then you'll take me in your robe pocket all the way to Snape's classroom and put me on the third shelf up next to his supply closet. I'll sneak in through the hole my brother and I drilled there years ago, grab the bottle and get out!"

"You mean you and George have done this before?" you asked, watching as he set the bottle down on the edge of the sink, taking off his robe to hang it over the cubicle wall

He turned back to watch him roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, "Yeah, every now and then if we need tough to find ingredients"

"And what exactly do I do?"

"Well, while I'm getting the bottle, you keep an ear out for Snape, then when I get out, you grab me and the bottle, put me in your robes and bring us back here so I can have my regrowth potion" he pulls another vial out of his pocket which is red and shiny.

"Sound good" you say, while he plonks the potion back into his pocket, and pops off the cork on the shrinking one.

"Bottoms up" he says, and downs the contents. The second he does, Fred begins to shrink! His clothes, thankfully, shrink down in size with him, until finally, he was no bigger than your pinky.

"Wow!" You exclaim, squatting down, "This is super dangerous. I could step on you."

"Please don't..." Fred mutters, his pitch the exact same despite his small size, just a bit quieter due to the distance and size of his mouth and all that. Damn, TV and movies have lied to you. A look of mild horror suddenly adorns Fred's face as he pulls something out from his trouser pocket. It's so small, you had trouble realising it was his regrowth potion, "Oh bugger! I forgot about that..."

You were tempted to lie down on your stomach and be as close as you could to eye level, but you doubted that would be very sanitary on the bathroom floor, "What's wrong?"

"I just realised I let the potion shrink with me! Now it won't work! It'll only grow me back to the size of a foot, if we're lucky"

"Speaking from experience?"

"Unfortunately." he shivers, "But it's okay, we'll just have to stop off at my room afterwards to get some more. I always make extra if I can afford to"

"Well that's good. Ready to go?"

"Absolutely" he held up his arms and you scooped him up like you would a wand. You got to your feet and were about to place him in your pocket when you noticed you still had your potions essay folded up inside. Fred had helped you finish it last night, the legend. Took you until 4 am to finish writing it.

You put him in your breast pocket instead, for fear that your robes might fly around too much and he might fall out, or that someone might bump into you and squash him. The breast pocket was at least hidden and safe. Besides, there were still two layers separating him from your actual boobs.

You opened the door and peaked your head through, checking to see if anybody was there. Nobody. Brilliant. Hurrying down the cobbled hallway, you B lined to the stairs leading down to the dungeons, and hurried to the classroom door. You and Fred had a free period right now, so that would explain why it seemed you and he were the only ones not in class. Despite how thankful you were for Fred's help, you wouldn't have skipped lessons to do this, it's risky enough as it is. Fast walking now, you peeped your head into Snape's office, where beyond it lay the door to his private stash.

"He better not come, Fred, or I'll squash you"

"Don't worry, he's in his lesson! Only got one potions teacher"

You thought this over and realised that yeah, there is only one... why the fuck do they only have one teacher for each subject? Do they get breaks? That's unlikely seeing as they have to teach all four houses in all seven years over the span of only five days a week. That's mental that is. Regardless, you would have the time to ponder this later, for now you had a potion to steal. You crept into Snape's office and shut the door, pulling out your wand and enchanting "Colloportus" to lock it behind you.

Fred really knew what he was talking about, because there were indeed shelves next to the closet door. The third one up was even covered with books, and when you grabbed Fred out from your pocket and plonked him on the shelf, he pointed to the dusty copy of 'The Moral Implications of Love Potions' and you took it out to reveal a hole behind it big enough for tiny Fred, “This looks like an interesting read..." you mutter, flipping over to read the blurb. There was a mini scoff, and by mini you mean it was produced by a mini person.

"Right, well, you have fun reading that, I'll search for the potion. Be back in a second" and he was off, disappearing through the hole. You sigh, fidgeting with anxiety at possibly getting caught. Doesn't make sense though, Snape is in class, he has no reason to come in here. When do lessons end anyway? You glance around for a clock but don't find any. Serves you right for not wearing a watch... would a watch even work at Hogwarts?

You flipped open the book and began reading a random page: Dr Eglantine proposed the following moral dilemma: if two people love each other but are too afraid to admit to one another, is it wrong for one of them to drug the other with love potion? Wizarding philosophers are torn on this issue, and when intercourse is involved, the grey area becomes even larger—

There was a loud bang from outside, which made your heart drop. You scurry over to the door, pressing your ear against the cool wood, holding your breathe in hopes of hearing better. The sound of students filled your ears, but not just a few students having a free period, but a whole herd of them. That could only mean one thing: class had ended... Oh fuck!

"Fred!" you cry out in the quietest panic you can muster, scurrying over to the hole, "Snape is coming."

"Almost... there!" Fred called between grunts, emerging with the bottle. You snatched it up, preparing to despose of it into your pocket when Fred raised a valid argument, "Don't put it in there! Snape will check your pockets when he finds you here!" He began downing his second potion, growing only to the size of a regular sized hand, "Damn"

"Oh, right" you scan your body for another hiding place, then the thought came to you. You shove the vial up your shirt and into your bra.

"Great, now me!" Fred exclaims, raising his arms up.

"I can't put you in my bra! You're too big, he'll see you!" You scoop him, holding his torso like a toothbrush.

He stares up at you in stunned confusion, "Really? That was what was wrong with that plan?"

You realised you ought to have said 'no you pervert I'm not letting you touch my boobs' but now wasn't the time to curse yourself for it. Your heart was hammering with fear, inspecting your body for somewhere to stash him. The doorknob rattled, and the sickeningly familiar tone of Snape's voice cursed that it was locked. Your time was up, there was only one thing for it! You pulled away the elastic of your skirt and stuck him down there,

“WOAH—!" He yelped, hair practically standing on end.

"Just hold onto the elastic along the outside and we should be fine!" You put him onto your outer right thigh, knowing full well that a pair of shorts and a pair of underwear and a whole thigh were separate him from... that.

"Alohamora!" the door swung open just as you were putting the book back, and there stood Snape, in all his emo glory. He froze, clearly having not expected to find anyone inside. Once the shock had left his system, he straightened up and glared at you, “What exactly do you think you are doing?" his nasally voice grilled, doing nothing good for your nerves, which were in absolute tatters at the moment.

"I was looking for you, w-when someone locked me in the class" you scramble, the lie just about the worst you could come up with. You had to remind yourself that Fred was on the outside of your thigh. Considering he was in your skirts at all, that was the most innocent position he could be in. All he had to do was hold on to the elastic of your shorts and you should be fine!

"Why?" he trudged further into the classroom.

"Why was I looking for you or why did someone lock me in the class—?"

"Why were you looking for me?" His booming voice told you that you were on thin ice.

"Ah yes, well, I... I was having trouble with the essay assigned for tomorrow, and thought maybe you could help me"

Snape closed the door and came to lean on his large desk, "Do you really expect me to believe that one of my students, who has never once asked a question in six years, is now asking a question?"

You frown, so suddenly insulted that you almost forgot about Fred on your leg, "Professor Snape, I ask questions all the time"

"Oh, how unmemorable you are then" he sneers, making you fume, "Regardless, I'm going to need to search your pockets"

You sighed, "Yes, sir"

He stalked over to you, holding out a hand for your robes. You pushed the sleeves off each shoulder, removing it, and dumped it into his palm. As he began to examine it, you felt Fred's shoes scrapping against your skin. It's as though he's trying desperately to find a foothold, no doubt still exhausted from having to push the bottle. If he falls, not only will you be caught, but Fred could get seriously injured!

Again, you knew what you had to do but hesitated to do it. As subtly as you could, you extended the elastic of your skirt, took Fred out, then plonked him into your shorts. His entire body went flush against yours, no doubt the skin tight shorts were crushing him. As long as there was no more risk of him falling... Hopefully it wasn't suffocating him though.

"If it's too tight, move" you hissed, keeping your eyes trained on Snape, who unfortunately heard you.

"What did you say?"

"I said—" you took a sharp breath, feeling Fred's back sink further into the fat of your thigh as he pushed away the area of fabric suffocating him, "If it's too tight, move" you repeated loudly for the two men in the room. "The pockets get a bit stuck sometimes so you have to jostle it around a bit" you added to give fake context to an instruction that wasn't even meant for Snape.

The shadowy teacher was evidently confused, but decided to ignore your outburst. Meanwhile, you could feel Fred inching along the front of your thighs, moving closer to your core. This was fine, as you didn't exactly want him to asphyxiate in your shorts, that would be a tragic way to go. You did hope, however, that he wouldn't overshoot his target, and fall into the abyss between the crotch and pant leg. Just as you had thought it, you felt the man slip. You gasped, pressing your legs a little closer together, enough for him to reach out and grab the first piece of fabric he could get his hands on. Unfortunately for the both of you, that piece of fabric were your panties. You wondered whether he knew what he was doing, when he began to scramble onto it, lying down flat onto the crotch like a hammock. Your question was quickly answered by the sensation of his arms sticking into your folds, and the subsequent wriggling of regret.

Sucking in a deep breath, you had to grip the nearby desk with all your might to stop a loud moan escaping your lips. Regardless of how bizarre and awful this situation was, having anything rub against your clit was an arousal waiting to happen. Poor guy must have though those were your shorts he grabbed before... You were just about to dig in and help, when Snape extended your robes back to you. You'd have to walk, with mini Fred mushed into you vagina, all the way to grab it. Praying he might forgive you one day, you stepped forward, effectively compromising Fred's escape, trapping him between your knickers and crack. Talk about getting stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Very well, I will take a look at your homework" and he rounded the desk, unfurling the essay he had taken from your pocket and sitting down in preparation to help. You swallow, approaching the table as he skimmed through it. He paused for a moment to look up, "Well, sit down" he ordered.

Staring down at the chair, you gulped. Every time you sit down during class, the skin tight shorts you wear, under your Hogwarts skirt, ride up into your ass. Having that happen right now is about as undesirable as they come, "Um, I'd rather not, if that's alright with you"

He blinked and looked back down at your work, "Well anyway, the beginning of your essay seems promising." You smiled, that was the part you wrote by yourself. Just wait until he gets to the part Fred helped you with. There were things he told you on the topic that you swore you had never heard before, you'll look like such an expert! Speaking of, the unfortunate blighter had given up on his attempts to leave, probably worried that his efforts might be thwarted again by your moving thighs. He was now using his hands and knees to keep himself pushed away from you. If you thought about it hard enough, you could convince yourself Fred was just a bumpy pad with a tuft of hair on the end... that moved.

Alright now body, I know you're an animal that listens to its instincts more than its brain, but please don't respond the same way you usually do when something— anything is pressing against you. You thought to yourself. We are not creating any new weird kinks today, thank you very much. Besides, the poor guy is going through enough as it is.

"You think Felix Felicis was created by Felix Williams... and that it contains balm, angel's trumpet, bitter root, and a single strawberry cooked under a full moon" he looked up from your work, pinning you with an expression of cold unamusement.

He must be testing you. Fred's a prankster but he isn't a dick... most of the time. He wouldn't. He couldn't! "Yes...?"

"Your Wolfsbane... does it contain any other nonsense ingredients I should know about?"

You froze, as did the guy in your pants. He must have heard, and Merlin have mercy he was going to pay for what he'd done!

This was just like that incident in fourth year all over again! You were in the showers after a quidditch match and Fred snuck in and stole your clothes and towel. When you realised you would had to run butt fucking naked all the way to your room, you were absolutely furious. Fred was lounging in the common room, along with twenty or so other people, and they all watched as you went gunning for the stairs. George felt awful, having not known his brothers prank, and offered to obliviate anyone who talked about it. It was then you realised Fred could be kind of a dick, and George was the man for you.

Fascinated by just how much Fredrick Weasley had fucked you over yet again, you decided to plop down on the chair opposite Snape. The moment you did, the skin tight shorts became skin tight. Fred's entire body went flush against yours, sending a delicious zap up your spine that attempted to summon a moan you coughed back, “Sorry, I wasn't trying to insult you with my work... I got a friend to help and it seems he was just taking the piss" Fred was moving, his chest bumping and smoothing over your clit. You had to actively try not to squeeze your thighs around him to increase the pressure.

George had bought you a dildo once as a "joke" (he just wanted to watch you wank yourself off, the kinky bugger) and you had run it between your folds, but that pailed in comparison to this. This was far better. Fred is made up of so many intricate parts, each of them squirming against you. His legs, for example, were kneading the source of your arousal. His shoes were in there now, using it as a foothold to try and push his way out. It was heavenly.

"Now I might remember you, as the girl with a poor judge of character" Snape interjected, pulling you out of your sexual haze. If the context were different, you might have gotten mad, but you couldn't bring yourself to at the moment. Not while you were getting oh so sweet revenge on a certain someone, "Well, for starters, dragon bone isn't an ingredient in any of these, so we might as well cross that off the list—" he took his red ink and began marking your paper. His voice became a distant drone in the background as you disassociated once against, focusing on how Fred had began shimmying his way to freedom. If only you could quicken his pace. If only you could rock your hips and fuck yourself against him. You weren't available to move, but he certainly was.

Leaving the one hand there on the desk, to rest your chin against, the other snuck under the table and under the hem of your skirt and shorts. Your fingers hovered above him, a little unsure what to do, until the index finger took initiative and pressed down onto his back through the pants. If he wasn't mushed against you before, he sure as hell was now. His hands slap your folds, but you could feel his head angled up for air. He should be fine.

You experiment by pushing him up. There his chin is triggering the most sensitive nerves of your clit! You roll your hips to savour it, using your thumb to squash his head down and create a more prominent friction. The round nature of his face and bumps making up his features created the most delicious rub. You had to loop your feet behind the desk's legs in order to stop your thighs from crushing him. When he slaps you for air, you reluctantly moved your thumb and pushed his body down. Now his feet were teasing your entrance with the sensation of being filled. You sat down more firmly onto your chair to shove him deeper inside of you. You pushed him up again, then down, up, down, repeating the gesture while his limbs squirmed, awakening new flesh with every swipe. Your middle finger joined the index's perch on his back to pick up the pace. You bit your lip and sucked a deep breath through your nose to push down all the noises that were bubbling to the surface. The only thing that could have moulded you any better than Fred would have been a literal mould. Even then, it wouldn't have been nearly so fun to hump.

You were now rolling him against you in deep tight circles. Your hips were swaying in time, and as much as you wanted to use your whole hand to rub him madly against you, you thought Snape might notice your entire arm thrusting under the table. Unconsciously, your thighs tighten around him, sucking him almost up into you. You lull your head back and arch into him, sighing in bliss. When Snape looked up, you snapped your head back down and froze, biting your fist in order to stop yourself whining in disapproval.

"Does that make sense?"

"Yes sir" what on earth were you agreeing to? You hadn't the foggiest.

"Then don't waste my time with useless garbage like this again. If you haven't produced a coherent, serious essay by tomorrow, I'll be deducting twenty points from your house. Now go!" He pointed to the door.

You had half a mind to snap back, but thought: to hell with him! You had things that needed your immediate attention, and no hooked nose, greasy hair, middle aged virgin was going to ruin that for you! “Very well, thank you sir" you stood up, and to your eternal disappointment, it loosened the strain of your clothes to unstick Fred from your cunt.

Exiting the class, you were devastated to find the hallway packed with students ready for their next potions lesson. The women's bathroom was just around the corner and up the stairs. All you had to do was get to it. You sped walked around the students, opting to push some aside rather than do any fancy footwork and likely squash the man inside of you. From the lack of movement, you guessed he had probably made peace with the situation. Luckily for you though, the movement of your walking kept banging him against you, and you had to stop yourself from dropping to the floor right then and there to grind him furiously against you.

When finally you had made it to the bathroom, casting "Colloportus" on the door for some privacy, you froze at the sight of someone stood inside with their back to you. You recognised those ginger locks straight away.

"George?" you called. He let go of the robe he was examining over the cubicle door and beamed, bounding up to you with all the excitement of a puppy.

"Darling! I've been looking for you everywhere, where have you been?"

What to say, what to say. You doubted rubbing your shrunk brother against my vagina in revenge would be largely acceptable, so you opted to white lie, "Oh, I needed Snape to help me with my potions essay"

George frowned, "Why'd you do that? I could have helped you. Can't imagine ol' hook nose was as fun as me"

"Well maybe if you weren't at that party last night—"

"What party?"

Judging by Fred's immediate scramble to break free, you imagined George was about to tell you something that would spell out very bad news for his twin. To stop his escape, you move a hand behind your back to fist your underwear and hoist it up, making it impossible to give way, "Fred told me you were at the Ravenclaw party last night..."

George's chocolate brown eyes widen in horror, immediately replaced by a scowl as he looked up to curse the air. Little did he know he actually should have been glancing down if he wanted to curse his brother. His squirming against you was making this entire thing leagues better, "What? Oh that prick! I was sick last night with a cold and sent him to apologise to you because I didn't want you catching it while Madam Pomfrey's sweets took effect"

Your cunt was fluttering in anticipation for what long and hard revenge you were about to take. Fred was scrambling so wildly, you couldn't wait to get down to business, "That asshat. He said you were drunk and convinced me to steal some stupid potion with him"

George's anger multiplied, "Bloody hell! I told him not to do that"

"What do you mean?" You were genuinely curious, but your body had literally no care in the world. It was hoisting your pants even higher to keep Fred glued there, wriggling your hips as your breathing became laboured.

George didn't seem to notice, "He was planning on making a thing of love potion with it. Told him it was a stupid idea and he was perfectly popular enough to get anyone he wanted without it. He's got hundreds of girls and guys in the past, I can't think of who he thought he needed to trick..." you consider it for a moment. That was a very good question, it's strange for Fred to care so much about someone... but this could be left for another time.

You hook your foot behind George's leg and brought it forward to wedge it in between yours. Without warning you hopped up and felt Fred immediately sink into your flesh. You doubled over, gripping George's shoulders, and moaning to savour the feel of being entirely and completely touched. George had to brace his hands against the door either side of your head to stop himself from falling over. In surprise rapture, he watched as you were already so unravelled. Finally, the surface you needed. Twins were supposedly two halfs of a whole, and never before had that sentiment rung so true. His leg was the missing component that pushed Fred so absolutely into you, no margin of error. All of him was rubbing against you now as you began humping without mercy.

You thrust yourself forwards and backwards, side to side, around in broad circles. Your folds accommodated him so well, stretching to make sure he always stayed between them. At times you were almost sure you could feel them curling around him, to keep him there as a permanent feature. Tempting indeed, he certainly made walking more fun, and imagine the possibilities in History of Magic. He could get you off under the table without anyone having a clue!

Fred was becoming slick with your arousal, lubricating him into slipping and sliding into usually unattainable flesh you never knew yearned for touch. And because of George's pressure under him, his hold on those neglected areas of your cunt was positively sinful. You throw your head back, your hands on George's shoulders, tugging up and down to massage yourself against Fred.

"What is that bump in your pants?" he finally questioned, having snapped out of his shock.

"Just a sex toy" you reply earnestly, making no alterations to your position.

There was a sudden sting on your clit that made you yelp and stop for a moment. Fred must have bit you... and it was incredible. You wondered whether you could get him to do it again, "It's loves being in there while I fuck myself with it. A tool for my pleasure" You were bouncing up and down like a rubber ball, poking him to react. He still wasn't doing anything to participate, but it was fine. You were doing more than enough for the both of you. All he needed to do was be there as you pounded yourself onto him. Then, your continuous lifting and applying onto him made his shoulder lodge so deep inside of you, you let out a howling moan, crushing George's lips to yours in order to muffle the sheer volume of the scream. He pulls your bottom lip into his mouth, urgently swiping his tongue against yours. You moan and put everything you have into the kiss, allowing him to dive in and taste you. George's lips began to wander, bitting, nibbling and sucking his way to your pulse. His hands came up to hastily undo your tie and shirt, pushing them aside to reveal your bare stomach. As he works your skin into his mouth, creating a glorious love bite on the swell of your neck, his palms fan out across your stomach. You take a sharp breath, as he caressed towards your bra, grinning against you when he notices it's the one he got you for Valentine's Day that unhooks at the front. Lucky coincidence, all your other ones were just dirty.

"I leave you for one night and you become a horny mess" George teases, his hands gliding down your sides to grip your hips. He nudged your legs apart, spreading you wider over your toy. Although he didn't take over the pace, he certainly sped you up. God you could have kissed him for knowing exactly how to whind up your pleasure. A shame then that his mouth was currently occupied with other things. You tangle your hands into his hair as he strokes your nipple with his tongue, pulling it into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks to suck it hard. Your head lulled back to angle yourself further into him, whimpering at how close your climax was.

Seemed Fred was just as desperate to get it over with as you were. He was now doing everything in his power to jack you off. He had somehow managed to grasp your clit between his hands, and paired with your thrusting it created a borderline unnatural amount of pleasure. You were screaming with moans. But somehow more importantly than all that, he had his leg plunged inside of you.

That was it. The idea had been toying in your mind this whole time, but now you knew you needed him inside if you. "Wait a second George" you breathed, perching yourself a little higher in order to stick a hand down your panties, pinching Fred so his arms were trapped by his sides, and sliding him, feet first, through your entrance, until nothing showed of him but his head.

Head back, mouth open in an overjoyed groan, something in you snapped. You didn't even have to thrust him in and out. He was twisting, his arms and legs were flailing in the little space available to them. The walls were hugging his every curve, likely trying to suction him to the back. It was the combination of George flicking your nipple with his tongue and Fred massaging your insides that had you finally unravelling. Hot, slick, arousal came dribbling past what little gaps Fred’s body provided, and you went limp in his brother’s arms with one final howl.

George straightened up to hold you close, stroking your hair until you were ready to stand on your own again, “Nifty toy you got there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so animalistic” he chuckled.

Wiping the sweat of your brow off on your robes, you tried to make yourself look presentable again, smirking up at your boyfriend as you redid the buttons of your shirt, “Yes, well, nothing beats actual sex with you. Wanna go for a round two in your room?”

He beams, “Course! Want me to wait?”

“Nah, I’ll meet you up there” you gesture him away. Normally you would ask him to stay, but you had something to deal with first.

“Alright, see you in five” all excited, he ran for the door, then turned back just as he had performed the unlocking spell to give you a quick peak on the lips, then off he went.

Rummaging around in your shorts, you sigh as you unclog your hole, the contents stringing against Fred as you lift him to eye level. Merlin he looked awful. His fiery hair was stood on end, gelled up with your cum. His white shirt was practically transparent and clung to his abs as though it have been soaked in water. His eyes were a little bloodshot probably from liquid splashing into them, and his lips were rather swollen, like they would be after making out with someone for too long or too roughly. Just generally, your essence was rolling off of him in big globs. You placed your other hand to your mouth and giggled at his appearance, but he seemed the furthest thing from amused. His arms were crossed over his chest, a highly displeased scowl etched across his face.

“Oh don’t look at me like that!” you say, “If you hadn’t planned the robbery so terribly, or lied to me on twooccasions in the 8 hours proceeding it, getting me to write a whole 4 thousand word essay on things that were complete horseshit, humiliating me on front of Snape and—“

“Alright alright—!” He had softened up a little, averting eye contact, but you didn’t care.

“No! I’m not done!” That got his attention again, “Fred, you have been a dick to me for the past six years! Sure, you’re funny and can be sweet sometimes, but most of the time you don’t know where the line is! You prank me all the time, it’s relentless! And today you bloody pushed me over the edge. I had a perfect means of getting revenge and damn it I took it.”

He shrugs, “Whatever, I guess we’re even now”

You open your mouth to continue arguing but snap it shut when you realised what he had said. That really took much less convincing than you though, probably because you were feeling a smidge guilty for going so far in the heat of anger. It’s not like he orgasmed or anything... well if he did you wouldn’t be able to tell, his trousers were drenched, “Yeah, I guess...”

You waddled to the sink, turning both faucets on for lukewarm water, plonking him in the basin to clean off the sticky residue. You then hobbled into the closest stall to grab a wad of tissue and wipe yourself clean with it. Despite how absolutely caked in the stuff Fred was, you were still drenched. You exit the stall a couple of minutes later to find him completely washed down, "Right, let's get you back to your normal size, but let's put you in my pocket this time..."

"What a shame. I had really learned to call your vag my home" the sarcasm drooled from his lips.

You scooped him up, pinning him with a warning eye, "I'll put you back in there if you're not careful."

"Sorry sorry sorry!" he back peddled, extending his arms like a man about to be hit by an unforgivable curse. You gently lay him in your pocket, and snapped your head up to find Moaning Myrtle staring at you in disbelief.

"Umm..." the ghost muttered, for once in her life (or death) at a loss for words.

"Don't tell anyone what you saw here today, Myrtle" you warned, pointing a long threatening finger at her, "Not like they'd believe you anyway"

She nodded vigorously and dove into the nearest sink.

#giantess #giantess smut #fred weasley x reader smut #fred weasley x reader #geroge weasley x reader smut #fred weasley #geroge weasley #geroge weasley x reader #geroge weasley smut #fred and george #fred weasley smut #fred and george weasley smut #harry potter smut #fred weasley lemon #weasley twin smut #weasley twins smut #weasley twins x reader

[h2bakugou]

summary: bakugou despises you, more than he does anyone else. you’re strong, and you don’t take shit from anyone. so when bakugou confronts you, it’s more than just a heated argument that ensues.

you can read the original piece here!

all characters aged 18+ au!!

a/n: a rewrite of a classic, one of the first ever fics written here on h2bakugou, hope you loves enjoy this!

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, smut

word count: 2.7k

nsfw under the cut!!!

»»————-　★　————-««

Being discouraged was never an option. Your goal to be a hero had been driven by your perseverance. Your classmates chose the words ‘driven’ and ‘passionate’ to describe you in your first year year-book.

Growing up, you’d been influenced by the words of others, and you vowed to not let them discourage you any longer. You wanted to be a hero, so you’d use their criticism and challenges to better yourself.

Yet, now as a third year, you were still facing challenges. One blonde, explosive, challenge named Katsuki Bakugou that had despised you the day you bucked up to him.

He hated you. Truthfully, he didn’t understand why. You were just so, aggravating. Though in reality, he saw a bit of himself in you. That fire that raged inside driving you further, he knew what that was like.

You weren’t afraid of him. You tested him every day. From ranking higher than him in tests, to beating his ass in training, god you were wiping the floor with him since you were a measly little first year still trying to learn everyone’s names.

On your side of the spectrum, you had to give credit where credit was due. Katsuki was an extremely talented, and attractive individual. He excelled in his classes, got outstanding grades, and had immense power.

But those things didn’t make up for his atrocious attitude, cocky and arrogant demeanor, and brash exterior.

You were closed off, and had boundaries-something Bakugou didn’t understand. Why you were so closed off was a mystery, something Bakugou wanted to desperately understand. A part of him was curious to see what was hiding behind your own brash exterior. 

He watched the way you bit the inside of your cheek when he called you out during a slip up in training.

But what made him far more angrier than when you ignored him, was when you got along with Todoroki.

You always seemed to be smiling around the guy, asking how he’d been over the weekend, despite living in dorms together.

Brushing up on him, rustling his hair, it made his blood boil. What did you see in him?

Today was dragging along like any other, your class stood fixed in the gym, working on some new training regiment put together by your third year Heroics teacher.

It was something similar to the ones you’d done hundreds of times by now, but you’d slipped up, a few times. You were tired, you’d barely gotten any sleep last night because classes finished late and left you to do your homework and shower on top of other things you had to do which landed you in bed at almost three or four in the morning.

So your slip up was something small, but Bakugou noticed. And he was about to make it known.

“You’re slacking today! A slip-up like that coulda getcha’ killed, maybe you should practice some more.” Bakugou chastised, smirking at you. As the buzzing fluorescent lights gleamed over your eyes, he could see so much more than anger bubbling inside them.

He now noticed the heavy undereye bags, and the way your eyes seemed to water. But as he stared into your eyes, he realized this was the first time this week you’d actually looking him in the eye when he said something to you.

You weren’t perfect, you still had moments of doubt, late at night when you thought about what might happen if they were right. What if you weren’t meant to be a hero?

Shaking it out of your head, you didn’t say anything. You focused back on your training, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Todoroki. He shot Bakugou a glare which only caused him to grumble and speak again.

“Get your head outta’ your ass, I’m not pining after your little girlfriend. She’s clearly been putting her mind elsewhere if she’s this fuckin’ terrible today.”

Despite initiating the joke, hearing himself call you Todoroki’s girlfriend made him seethe with anger. He was furious. Why’d he say that? 

“Shut up.” Todoroki replied cooly, following you out of the gym to the locker rooms.

You just laughed to yourself before you got water. Todoroki let out a stressed sigh as he stared at you.

“He’s being extra rude today.” Todoroki mentioned.

“Maybe he’s just horny.” You grimaced thinking about Bakugou and the words ‘being horny.’ 

“How would that tie into his anger toward you?” 

“Sexual. Frustration.”

Bakugou couldn't take much more of you ignoring him. Why were you so dead-set on making him seem invisible? You barely bit back at him when he called you out, and he knew you could say whatever you wanted, you’d done it to others who tried you. So what made him any different?

This was just one of those occurrences, and as he ran them through his head, every time he checked, there was always some case of you ignoring him when all he wanted was a stupid fucking acknowledgement from you. He was going to talk to you.

And he was going to do it now.

You’d finally left the gym, taken a shower, and you were now steadily approaching your dorm. You were tired, and ready to speed through any homework you might have so you could head to bed early.

But a pair of strong hands forced your shoulders into the wall.

“What’s your fuckin’ deal?” Bakugou growled at you. You just stared at him.

“What?” You answered softly, unsure of what he was accusing you of.

“You think you’re so much better than me, than everyone else huh? Walkin’ around like you fuckin’ own the place? What makes you that fucking good!?” Bakugou spat at you.

His fingers dug into your shoulder blades as he urged you to answer his question. You shoved him off of you and managed to escape his attempts at grabbing your wrists.

“I don’t. You fucking act like you own the place, like being powerful is all it takes to be number one. You might wanna take your head outta’ your ass before your hair turns brown.” You marched off to your room, fed up with Katsuki’s behavior.

“Oh yeah!? Then why do you act like such a fuckin’ ass to me!?” Bakugou shouts, running after you.

“Because you treat me like shit! You call me weak when I slip up, you’re always on my fucking case. You think I really wanna be your friend?” You stop and stare at him. 

“Or maybe it’s just because you’re a stubborn asshole that’s too blinded by his idea of being number one that he’s so fucking distracted by his arrogance to see that he’s really just a douche.” 

Your back hit your dorm door. Bakugou towered over you as his shadow cast down upon you.

“You need to watch your fucking mouth.” 

“Or maybe you need an attitude adjustment. Everyone’s grown so much but you still seem to think you’re hot shit, huh?” You reach for your doorknob, going to twist it, but you were to slow.

“I said...” Bakugou’s eyes bore into you.

“You need to watch your fucking mouth.” Bakugou opened your door, watching as you fell back, no longer supported by the wood of your door.

“Make me.” You grunted, catching yourself from falling onto the floor.

Bakugou’s eye twitched as he followed you into your room, closing and locking the door behind himself.

“Hey, what the fuck are you-”

“You’re such a bitch, just shut up already.” Bakugou groaned, yanking you further back into your room.

It all was beginning to make sense. Bakugou wanted to-

“This isn’t going to change how I think of you.” You blurted out, knowing exactly what the blonde wanted. He stared at you with a smirk.

“Put that pretty mouth to something useful unlike talking.” Bakugou began to undo his pants, allowing them to pool around his ankles. 

“You really want me to suck your cock? I don’t know, what if I bite?” You grin, watching as he angered above you.

“What the fuck did I just say?” A handful of your hair was yanked in his fist, tilting your head back.

“A-alright.” You replied. Your cunt throbbed, forcing you to squeeze your thighs together. Why were you so turned on? You didn’t exactly like Bakugou, but he was attractive. You’d give him that, but his looks didn’t make up for his horrendous attitude.

His cock stared at you, hard, tip leaking precum. You graced a single hand over the base, jerking him slowly as you leaned your head toward it. You placed a teasing kiss to the head, smearing his precum around your lips like a lipgloss.

Allowing just the head to slide into your mouth, you stared up at him, watching him fumble with his hands. 

“First time?” You pulled off to tease him which resulted in his cock slamming past your lips and hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes shot open wide as your throat burned, his cock rutting down inside your mouth.

It hurt, but it felt good at the same time.

“You really are a slut, huh. Bet you let guys use this little throat like it’s nothing.” Bakugou spat at you. You wished you could’ve said something back to him, but his cock ramming down your throat was sadly stopping you.

You could hear his whines as he grew close to cumming, but he didn’t want to waste his spend inside your mouth, so he pulled out, hissing as you licked his sensitive cock head a few times as he left your lips.

“I wanna taste you.” You murmured, reaching your hand back up to his cock, ushering him to cum in your mouth.

“H-hey!” Bakugou grunted as your mouth reconnected to his cock. It was too late for him, you were blowing him like no one had ever blown him before. And he was busting in your mouth seconds later.

Swallowing his cum and opening your mouth to show him afterward, Bakugou shook his head.

“Nasty whore.” Bakugou replied, forcing you up and onto the bed, landing on your tummy.

“Had you just asked, I would’ve laid down.” Your shirt was torn off mercilessly by Bakugou, his desperate hands trying to free your tits. Afterward came your sheer tights, followed by your panties. They pooled around your ankles as he left your skirt on for his little fantasies to run wild.

Allowing a firm hand to slap against your now exposed ass, he groaned to himself as he kneaded the skin of your ass between his fingers.

“Pervert.” You mumbled. 

Two fingers swiped through your glistening, slick-coated folds.

“The fuck did you just call me?” Bakugou teased, allowing his thumb to rub small, slow, agonizing, circles around your clit.

“F-fuck.” You breathed out, arching your back into his touch.

“Aw does that feel good slut? You want more?” Bakugou dipped his middle finger into your cunt, watching as you mewled underneath him.

You gripped your sheets with embarrassment, unsure of why you’d succumbed to him so fast. You hung your head in disapponment at yourself.

“More. Want more.” You mumbled, feeling empty as his fingers disappeared from your cunt.

“Didn’t know you’d get so wet just from sucking cock.” Bakugou chastised you again.

“Didn’t think you knew where the clit was.” You groaned. However your comment was punished by a striking feeling between your folds.

His fingers slapped against your clit, making you whine as he toyed with you.

“Surely if this wasn’t it, you’d be quiet right now.” Bakugou was just messing around with you at this point. You were panting as his fingers left your abused clit.

He bent down, spreading your cunt open with his fingers, dipping his tongue into your tight hole. You mewled as the appendage ravaged you. Flicking between your cunt and your clit, he was making you scream into your sheets as you came on his tongue.

His chuckled, licking up your mess as he pulled himself away.

“So messy.” He groaned.

“I bet you’ve been waiting for this cock to fill you up huh. I bet you finger this little cunt thinking about it.” Bakugou rubs the tip of his cock between your folds, butting it against your clit, watching as you whine.

“Just fuck me already.” You were tired of hearing him talk. You wanted him inside you.

“I can wait.” He pulled away, allowing the tip of his cock to just barely touch the folds of your pussy. You whined in response.

“Fuck, please fuck me. Please fill me up.” You begged, laying defeated against the mattress, your ass still hoisted in the air.

“That’s more like it-shit so fuckin’ tight.” Bakugou winced, his cock plunging through your tight folds. It felt so good. You were squeezing him, milking his cock without giving him a second to breathe. He felt like cumming again.

“I thought with-fuck-how cocky you were, you were gonna be smaller.” You retorted, mewling as his cock stretched you out, rubbing against your walls.

“You’re gonna regret ever thinking that.” Bakugou responded by peeling your ass apart with his hands, spitting down onto his cock as it slid out of you and then plunged back into you, sending your body jolting forward.

You moaned loudly as his cock plowed through your cunt, his hands now gripping your waist, holding you in place.

“Not so big and bold when you’re stuffed full of this cock huh?” 

“You always fuck this good when you’re angry?” You groan, panting as he rearranges your insides. 

“You wanna fuck me when I’m not?” Bakugou teases, sliding out of you before thrusting back in. Your long moan shows him he’s doing a good job.

“You might be attractive but your attitude is the worst.” You whine, feeling like you can’t hold the sheets between your fingers tighter.

“I’ll keep that in mind, slut.” Bakugou leaned and grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking it upward, pulling you into his chest. Another hand gripped your throat. 

“Fuck, right there!” You mewled, his cock plowing into you at a different angle, the head of his cock bruising all the good spots inside of you.

“Why don’t you cum on this cock?” Bakugou whispered, biting down against your shoulder.

“C-cumming!” You moaned, your cunt clamping down around his cock as you reached your high. Bakugou hissed as you squeezed around him, forcing his spend out of him and into your cunt.

He let you fall against the mattress as he pulled out, a lewd squelching sound followed by his cum leaking from your pussy was a sight to behold the blonde’s eyes.

Snapping a quick picture for later, he reached for something to wipe you up with before laying down beside you.

“Maybe if you shut up half of the time I’d talk to you.” You mumbled, still trying to catch your breath.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Bakugou stared at you.

“It means...” You rolled over on top of him, leaning down toward his face.

“We’d make a good couple if you weren’t an asshole.” You press a cheeky kiss to his lips, short enough for him not to be able to kiss back. He groans and flips the tables, forcing you under him as he kisses you passionately.

“So fuckin’ date me then and stop fuckin’ around with that half and half bastard.” Bakugou replies.

“Are you blushing?” You tease the blonde, your own cheeks feeling hotter than usual. Bakugou groans and plants his face into your pillow.

“Shut the fuck up. And not a word of this to anyone-”

“Unless I become your girlfriend yeah I know.” You lay beside him and yank up the covers over your naked body, kicking off the rest of your clothes that were uncomforabtly stuck around your ankles.

“I don’t really mean to be such an ass. I just thought-”

“Exactly, you assumed I was a dick. Just shut up, you’re making this worse for you. You really want me to break up with you after we just got together?” 

Bakugou is dead silent for the rest of the night as he eventually cuddles up next to you.

The following morning, a few people are surprised to see you actually speaking to Bakugou, and Todoroki is one of them.

Though by the end of the week, most everyone knew what went down, Bakugou mentioned it to Kirishima on accident and then it had spread.

Todoroki was thoroughly surprised, due to the entire nature of you and Bakugou’s previous relationship. But ultimately, as long as you were happy, he couldn’t be mad.

“About time you realized you liked her.” He mentioned swiftly to Bakugou as they passed in the common room.

“What you’d say to me!?”

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

#bakugou #bakugo #katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

[mandareeboo]

ok now im curious what your most petty thing is (regarding the dp post)

Oooh boy, here we go! Buckle up fuckers this is gonna be a longer one.

My senior year of high school, I took a creative writing class. Partially because I needed to fill the slot, mostly because I wanted to improve my writing (spoiler: I did not). Now, my high school was a three floor building- first was mostly gym, second was general, and the third was senior lockers and art classes. I spent a good chunk of my schedule senior year on the second and third floor, going between an art class to my earth science (I took that one entirely as filler, but also bc I like science) to my locker and so on.

Creative writing? Creative writing was in the fucking basement. Go to the first floor, go to a corner generally used for health and development classes, to another corner, follow a ramp and some stairs, and boom there it is kind of basement. (Side note but this teacher was REALLY into attendance and would get you in trouble if you were late which was really annoying since basically no other class was in that part of the building).

My creative writing teacher wasn't bad, per se. I've had worse teachers. I had an algebra teacher who delighted in making freshman girls cry and mocking them for it. I had a journalism teacher who would use her class time reporting how Hilary was secretly ill during the election. I had a history teacher say trans people weren't real to an openly gender nonconforming student (I didn't know them well enough to ask for specifics on their alignment, but they were using they/them at that point) and set up assignments just to mock students on the take they were told to make. It was more that she was uncreative and took it out on the kids doing creative writing.

She gave us two books to read. Basically “how I write” by published authors. I don’t remember the first one well enough and I donated it ages ago, but the second was Stephen King’s “On Writing”. It was 3/4′s personal stories about his life and 1/4′s “also write a bit every day”.  I mostly remember the first author bc she had those fake dreadlocks white people do when they destroy their hair and she gleefully told a story about making her son have a meltdown at a party or wedding or something bc he got overwhelmed and she wanted him to learn that “sometimes you don’t get what you want”. So. You know. Not much there.

She also instructed us to write in a journal every day, which she would check every few months or so. It had to be at least half a page. She would leave little comments in every one else’s journals when she checked them, but not mine- I realized pretty quickly she was a bit uncomfortable with LGBT+ content, so I made it my mission to make every journal drabble as gay as possible bc I was bored and she couldn’t mark them WRONG when she just stated we needed to write.

But it doesn’t end there! Through the entire class, we got exactly five writing projects. Stories that follow very specific guidelines that we would then read in front of the class, group proofread, and then have the teacher give final grades for. These things were approximately like a thousand words a piece, and I was writing out my 10,000 word “It Starts off Small” story in class when I got bored, so it wasn’t difficult. 

Our first project was a character going through a difficult decision. Or... something? I honestly forget the criteria. Anyway, I was HYPE. I’d had this idea for a long time now a human choosing between peaceful death or reincarnation, and this gave me the push to write it! I had a whole thing planned with death being a deer and reincarnation being a wolpertinger (bc reincarnation leads to many possibilities, ed boy, so a Frankenstein bunny made sense to me). Anyway I poured my heart and soul into this bastard and, bright eyed and bushy tailed, handed it in. My classmates all thought it was pretty good. Not to toot m’own horn, but there was some pretty bad ones going in, so I thought I’d get a solid B or something.

I got a D. I guess the struggle was too metaphorical, or it didn’t perfectly fit her criteria. I was devastated. Then I was mad. Bc I was a bored senior who thought they’d made something pretty decent for this completely optional class and her refusal to see that really hurt me at sixteen (I was always a year younger than my other classmates, so despite being a senior I didn’t turn eighteen until almost a year after graduation)

Well, fuck it, I decided. I’m going to parody the shit out of this class.

Our next project was a fantasy story. I was bitter and grumpy. The other fantasy stories read aloud were stuff like “yeah this dude fought a wizard and got a girl, then they went home and banged” (this was not hyperbole, he would’ve written and read the smut if allowed, I knew him personally) and “this girl that NO ONE UNDERSTOOD was called CRAZY but this S@!$ cheerleader who Stole Her Boyfriend so she killed them all” (fun fact: the girl who wrote that was my age and a sort of half-friend from middle school. She was a yaoi fangirl who didn’t mind lesbians as long as they, you know, didn’t FLIRT with her or something.) 

So I get up there. It’s the last day of presentations. And I present with a polite cheer. My story is about two magical shepherd type figures who are called Sister Brighten and Brother Dick as they chase down a werewolf who was drunk off his ass and accidentally bit someone else. They then revealed they were basically supernatural designated drivers for the whole town. I made Brighten mention that Dick’s name wasn’t even Richard. I titled it “His Favorite Brand is Grayhound”. It fit every single criteria. I got an A. I could tell she didn’t want to, because there was no comments or anything like everyone else’s, but she had to follow her own criteria.

Our third was a conjoined effort thing so I didn’t pull any fuckery there, but the fourth one was about common myths and spinning them into real or fake. One girl did the hook-handed door handle thing and the boyfriend ended up above his truck hanging (somehow???). I think someone did the age-old adage of a haunted wedding dress? I kind of read through those presentations. 

Now, I’m salty-salty at this point. I wasn’t expecting His Favorite Brand is Grayhound to get me a good grade. I half-assed a lot of it. I am in full Not Happy Teenager at this point. I grab a daddy long leg and settle in.

My fourth story of the year is “Paperskin.”

Paperskin is about a boy named Billy with the thinnest skin membrane ever. Just full on body horror. You could see his teeth behind his lips. Billy gets bored one day and wanders out of his house, tries to kick a soccer ball, and breaks a leg. As he’s laying in the grass a daddy long leg bites him- and his skin is so flimsy the fangs sink in and he dies. I’m actually still pretty proud of Paperskin. It’s a horrifying, Edgar Allen Poe of a monstrosity, but it made people squirm, which was the point. The teacher is clearly a bit unnerved at this point, but she gives me another A. 

I wrote a more “normal” story after that of a contentious objector forced to house kids going to see if any confirmed soldier deaths were any of their parents as my final one and I could feel her spite as she gave me a B.

So, yeah. That’s the story of when I tormented my creative writing teacher with The Gays and my weird ass sense of humor after she called one of my best works at that age a piece of shit.

 Here’s a google drive of these bad boys, because yes I do still have these things. I turned these fuckers in for grades, people.

#Ask #Anon #Question Mandar #Life #Humor #Writing #I was a good kid I swear #I didn't make much noise and I didn't argue much #It was just this one lady

[pan-fangirl-345]

You Have A Visitor!

Summary: Denki needs a boost. Luckily, there’s a visitors day coming up and you, being the loving girlfriend that you are, decide this is a good time to catch up with your boyfriend.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, because Bakugou, some suggestive thought, and the reader had divorced parents and an alcoholic father, not to mention some low self-esteem. If there’s anything I missed, please tell me!

A/N: I have no idea what the hell made me write this but whatever, I have nothing else better to be doing like the chorus assignment that was due a week ago, and the outline for a paper, and then the actual paper. Oops.

Also, I realized quite belatedly, that I never told you guys that (Y/N) means your full name, both first and last. Sorry about that!

“Hey baby girl,” Denki said, sounding tired.

“Hey, are you okay?” you inquired, flopping onto your bed.

“Yeah, I just got my grades back and I can’t say they’re great. I even studied this time!”

“I’m sure they’re fine, Denki,” you assured him, wishing you could wrap your arms around him.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted. “It’s been so hard being away from you for this long. And I don’t mean to be clingy, but I could really use a hug from you.”

You could hear it in his voice, he was having a bad day. He was normally very peppy and chipper, but there were days when he just couldn’t muster the energy for it.

“I know Sparky,” you said. “I miss you too. Where’s Kirishima? Can’t he give you a hug?”

“Nah, he’s in the gym with the steel guy from Class B.”

“I was almost 100% sure you were going to say he was with the explosion guy, Bakugou,” you said smiling.

“Can . . . can I FaceTime you?” he inquired softly.

“Of course Denks, I’m honestly a little surprised it took you this long to ask me,” you teased, trying to bring a smile to his face.

“Well, I know how you feel about being on camera.”

“Yeah, but it’s different when I’m talking to you,” you told him.

When he called you again, you answered, smiling at him.

“Hey Denki,” you said.

He looked tired, there were bags under his eyes, and he was flopped against his bed, body riddled with tension.

“Hey love,” he said, giving you a tired smile. “It’s so good to see your adorable face.”

“Right back at you Sparky,” you retorted, smiling at him. “I really wish I was there with you. Maybe I could help.”

“This is helping,” he told you. “Just being able to talk to you.”

“Bad day?”

He nodded, sighing. “I’m sore, I’m tired, I feel like an idiot, and I miss you on top of everything else.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could see you. When’s the next visitors’ day?” you inquired, moving to look at your calendar.

“Like, two weeks from now, on Saturday. Why?”

“I’m gonna come visit you silly,” you teased, smiling at him. “I have to work that Saturday, but it’s only until noon. I’ll come see you after that, yeah?”

“Seriously? You’re gonna come see me?” he asked, sitting up. Little lines of electricity started to run up his body and you laughed.

“Yeah, course I am Sparky,” you said.

“I can’t wait to see you! And introduce you to my friends! And-”

The lights flickered in his room for a few moments before they turned back on.

“Kaminari!” someone shouted in the distance and he flushed.

“Sorry!” he shouted, making you laugh.

“Did you just short circuit the lights in your dorms?” you questioned.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, cheeks bright red.

“It’s okay, it let’s me know that you really are excited to see me,” you told him. “I know that there are a lot of other girls there that are probably prettier than I am.”

“Angel, listen to me,” Denki demanded, making you pause. It was very rare that he ever sounded that serious. “You are beautiful, inside and out, and I would rather spend an hour with you than a hundred years with them, understand?”

“You’re such a sap,” you muttered, suddenly remembering why you loved him so much. “I love you Denks.”

“I love you too, (Y/F/N), don’t ever forget that,” he said, face as serious as you had ever seen it.

“I won’t. Don’t forget that I love you either, alright?”

“I think I can handle that,” he said, flashing you that one million watt smile that you loved to see.

“Good,” you retorted, smiling back at him.

Someone shouted in the background again and Denki sighed.

“I have to go, it’s time for dinner, but I’ll call you again tomorrow night, okay?”

“Okay, I love you Denki Kaminari,” you told him.

“I love you too (Y/N).”

You smiled at him again before you hung up, sighing.

You missed Denki, you really did. It was hard sometimes, dating Denki long distance, even if he was still in the country. He was only about fifteen minutes away, but the security was so tight that it was hard for you to go see him, especially since you worked part time at the local library.

You were proud of him, and you wouldn’t trade him for all the money in the world, but you missed him.

Him and his dumb pickup lines, him and those dumb cat memes he used to send you, him and those awesome hugs whenever you had a bad day.

You had hated Denki when you had first met in middle school. You thought he was immature, way too loud, and you hated how little he paid attention in class.

But then you got paired up for a project and you learned that sometimes Denki didn’t realize he was being loud, or that his quirk was making things go haywire.

Denki had a lot of friends, he made them wherever he went, he was like that, but a lot of the time they were fake. 

You had learned how to help him remember things from class, you were there when he started to get a little too loud, and you were there when he was rejected for the first time.

You remembered tapping his arm whenever his noise level was becoming too much, or kicking him when he was unintentionally making someone uncomfortable, stepping in when someone tried to get him to do something that would get him in trouble.

He had asked you out through your third year of middle school. At first you had thought it was a prank, a dare maybe, but he had been adamant that he really wanted to be with you.

It had been weird at first, neither of you really knowing how this changed things, until you realized that nothing had to change. You could still do what you normally did together, but there was more hand holding and cheesy compliments involved.

He had gotten accepted into U.A., and you had been happy for him, but you would be going to different high schools, and when everything had started to get more dangerous there, you had panicked about Denki. You didn’t get to see him as often, and he had even tried to break up with you, worried about your safety.

But you had worked it out, you had talked about it, you called each other regularly and you sent each other small gifts every now and then when missing each other became almost unbearable.

There were small amounts of time when you worried more than usual, when they had training camps and weren’t allowed to have their phones, or when they had exams and you weren’t there to make sure that he was eating and getting enough sleep, but other than that, your relationship with him was relatively easy, everything considered.

The next two weeks were slow, but talking with Denki ever night made it better than you would’ve thought.

He assured you that his new friends would love you, though you were suspicious about Bakugou, that he wanted you to meet Eri, that everything was going to be fine, and that he couldn’t wait to hug you again.

“C’mon sweetheart, it’ll be fine! The only one you might have to worry about it Mineta, and I can promise that he won’t get anywhere near you,” Denki said, laughing.

“Why hasn’t the school kicked him out yet?” you inquired, nose wrinkled.

“That’s a good question,” Denki admitted. “I guess he just hasn’t done it in front of the teachers enough.”

“I would’ve killed him by now, I feel so bad for the girls that have to deal with him,” you said, shuddering.

“I know you would’ve,” he said, smiling. “But seriously, how was your day?”

“The same as usual, except there was this really cute little girl in the library today who tried climbing the shelves to get to a book she wanted. She was so cute! She got really high up though and I was terrified that she was going to hurt herself.”

He listened to you talk about your day, smiling as you talked.

“I’m really excited to see you tomorrow,” he said when you were done.

“I know, I’m excited too. I can’t wait to see you.”

‘I’ve missed you,” he said, getting a sad look on his face.

“Hey, no sadness remember?” you told him. You wanted so badly to reach out to him, to hold him, to run your hands through his hair while he held you. “I’ve missed you too, but we’re gonna see each other tomorrow. And I promise that I’ll give you as many cuddles as you want.”

“If that’s the case you wouldn’t be leaving the couch,” he said, smiling at you. “If you thought I was clingy before it’s only going to be worse tomorrow.”

“Trust me, if you weren’t clingy, I would be,” you assured him, making him laugh.

“You do realize that no one is going to understand how we’re in a relationship right?”

“Fuck ‘em,” you said. “It’s not really any of their business anyway. It’s a healthy relationship.”

“That’s my girl,” Denki said, smirking.

“You’re gonna be a smug bastard tomorrow aren’t you?” you inquired, making him cackle.

“You had no idea. Most of the squad doesn’t think you exist,” he said. “And when I say that, I mean that only Mina believes me because she walked in on my talking to you one night.”

“We’ll change their opinions tomorrow,” you promised, biting your lip. “I’m really excited to see you tomorrow Denki. It’s been too long.”

“I know! Don’t remind me,” he whined, making you chuckle.

“Do you want me to bring anything with me tomorrow?”

“Just your sparkling personality and enough hugs to hold me over until the time you can visit. And maybe some cupcakes or something, I’m craving sugar,” he muttered, the last part more to himself than to you.

Someone shouted in the background, and Denki sighed. “I have to go, but I love you, and I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“I love you Denki, sleep well,” you told him.

“You too,” he said, ending the call.

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

Denki couldn’t stop pacing as people streamed into the dorms, trying to find the people they were there to visit. It was only nine, and he was already anxious to see her again.

He kept checking for her (Y/H/C) hair among the sea of people, even though he knew she wouldn’t be there yet.

He had already told his classmates that she was coming to see him today, most of them playing it off as a ploy for attention and sympathy. Both of his parents were working today, so they weren’t coming to see him, and his little sister had had a sleepover the night before and was probably sleeping it off at home with their cat.

(Y/F/N) had texted him that morning and he had been glued to his phone ever since smiling whenever she sent him a funny picture or a reminder of how much she loved him.

Mina had been waiting for months to meet his girlfriend, and while the others didn’t believe she existed, he was going to be proud to show her off.

He wasn’t anxious about seeing her again, he was looking forward to that, but what if she didn’t like his friends? What if they didn’t like her? What if-?

“Denki!”

His head whipped up at the sound of her voice, and he zeroed in on her.

Was he hallucinating? He was hallucinating, right? There was no way she was there-

She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him over.

He definitely wasn’t hallucinating.

“Denki,” she breathed, burying her face in his neck as she twisted her fingers into the back of his t-shirt.

“(Y/F/N), I thought you weren’t coming until noon,” he said, clinging to her.

“I haven’t seen you in like, three months, and that’s all you have to say to me?” she inquired, flashing him that smile that he loved so much as she pulled back a little, just enough to see his face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing her.

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t hallucinating.

It had been so long since he had touched her, it felt like he had stuck his hand in a fire. She was warm against him and they couldn’t stop smiling at each other between kisses.

“I missed you,” she whispered, burying her hands in his hair.

He slid one hand up her back, touching her face lovingly with the other as they stared at each other, (Y/E/C) eyes meeting amber.

“I missed you too, sweet pea,” he assured her, kissing her again.

“WHAT THE FUCK? FUCKING PIKACHU ACTUALLY HAS A GIRLFRIEND?”

“Shut up Blasty!” Mina hissed, swatting him with her hands.

(Y/F/N) pulled away, cheeks tinged pink as the Bakusquad stared at them.

“You must be Bakugou,” she said, smiling at him. “And, for the record, I’m not a girlfriend, I’m the girlfriend.”

“I told you guys she was real!” Mina shouted, making you laugh.

“It’s nice to meet you all, I’m (Y/N), I’m also Denki’s girlfriend.”

“Clearly,” Sero said, making her chuckle.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Mina said, throwing her arms around (Y/F/N), catching her by surprise, though she hugged back after a moment.

“You must be Mina. It’s so nice to meet you too. I’ve hear so much about all of you.”

“Pikachu, you have some fucking explaining to do,” Bakugou snapped.

“Gladly,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

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

“You know, I never would’ve thought you would have the patience to deal with someone like Kami, (Y/L/N),” Kirishima said.

“What can I say? Apparently I have a soft spot for dumbasses,” you said, making Denki protest.

“I can’t be that bad,” he muttered into your neck.

He hadn’t let go of you since you had arrived, there was an arm around your shoulders or your waist, a hand in yours or on your back, and now he had you seated in his lap, his arms around your waist as he fiddled with your fingers.

“How did you even get here this early? I thought you said you weren’t coming until noon.”

“I told my boss that I was going to see you today and he let me out early so that I could spend more time with you. I don’t know how you got him to like you so much, he hates everyone.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Denki pointed out.

“Yes, but that’s because I actually do my job correctly and because I have more invested in that library than the founder does!” you told him.

“(Y/F/N) really likes to read,” Denki admitted. “It’s one of the reasons she’s so smart.”

“I’m an only child with parents who both had to work a lot before they divorced, I had to find ways to entertain myself when they weren’t home and when they were too busy screaming at each other to pay attention to me,” you muttered.

Denki’s arms tightened around you subconsciously.

He had met both of your parents, and hadn’t taken well to your father, who had a tendency to love alcohol more than he loved you. It had made you a lot harder on yourself than you had to be, and your father had hated Denki from the moment they had met.

He thought your mother was a saint though, and she was for putting up with your father for so long.

“Yikes, that sounds rough,” Sero said.

You shrugged. “When you grow up like I did, it makes you used to certain things. I got used to someone always putting me down. I got used to having to do a lot of things myself. I mean, it sucked, and there was a time when I had a bag packed in my closet, but it made me who I am.”

“You never told me about the bag thing darling,” Denki said, frowning.

“I mean, I was . . . eight or nine I think, long before we were ever even friends,” you told him. You kissed his cheek lightly. “Besides, I never had to use it.”

“I don’t think that’s the point,” Mina chimed in.

You shrugged, then said, “Oh yeah, my mother says hi baby. She would’ve come with me, but she had to work. Speaking of parents, where are yours?”

“Mom and Dad had to work today,” he explained, nuzzling your neck softly.

“Right, they told me that earlier,” you muttered.

“You talk to his parents?” Kirishima asked.

“Well, yeah. I mean, we’ve known each other since middle school. I used to go over to his house all the time. I used to babysit his sister with him. They’ve known me for a while, us dating just helped my relationship with them. Besides, whenever your school gets attacked, I always go over there. Makes me feel like I’m doing something useful.”

“I still can’t believe fucking Pikachu has a girlfriend,” Bakugou grumbled.

“Jealous?” you asked, wrinkling your nose. “Maybe if you acted less like you had rabies girls wouldn’t be so afraid to talk to you.”

“What did you just say to me?” he asked, palms crackling.

“You heard me,” you said, interlacing one of your hands with Denki’s.

“Do you wanna fucking go?” he snarled, standing up.

“Not particularly, I was just giving a suggestion. Do with it what you will,” you told him, melting back into Denki, who sighed contently.

“This is the calmest I’ve ever seen him,” Sero said, staring at Denki in wonder.

“I have that affect on him apparently,” you confessed, running your free hand through his hair. “You haven’t been sleeping well, have you?”

Denki shook his head. “Too many loud thoughts. Feel bad waking you up to deal with it.”

“Baby, that’s what I’m here for, besides, I’m up a lot of the time anyway,” you chided. “Call me, alright? It puts me to sleep too you know.”

“Mmhmm,” Denki mumbled, kissing your shoulder lightly.

“Cute,” you murmured, kissing his forehead. “You can go take a nap you know.”

“Wanna stay with you,” Denki said.

“C’mon baby, up we go,” you whispered, pulling away from him, hauling him up off the couch. “When was the last time you slept through the whole night?”

“Two weeks ago,” he admitted.

“Denki!”

“‘M sorry,” he whispered.

“Come on, you’re taking a nap, even if I have to-” You stopped what you had been about to say.

Tying him to the bed sounded sexual, and so did sleeping with him. Sitting on him just sounded bad.

“Come on Denki,” you told him. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Wanna stay with you,” he repeated.

“I’ll stay with you, alright? Just please, get some sleep,” you said. “Where’s your room?”

He stumbled his way through the halls, leading you to his room where he flopped onto his bed.

“It’s so you,” you told him, looking around.

He made grabby hands for you and you chuckled, climbing under his covers with him.

“Missed you a lot,” he muttered.

“I missed you too,” you told him, burying your hands in his hair as he wrapped his arms around you.

He relaxed again, and you kissed his forehead as he fell asleep, rubbing your hands against his back.

“Love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too Denks,” you murmured, letting your own eyes shut as you listened to his breathing.

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

“Are they still in there?” Sero asked as they made their way to Denki’s room.

“She didn’t leave,” Mina said.

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” Bakugou asked.

“I don’t hear anything,” Kirishima said. “This is really unmanly guys.”

“Open the door,” Mina pushed.

“Guys, no!” Kirishima hissed, but Bakugou had already opened the door.

“Aww,” Sero, Kirishima, and Mina muttered, seeing the two of them tangled together under the covers.

Denki’s arms were tight around her waist as they laid there together, her head tucked under his chin, like he was protecting her.

They all remembered the fierce way she carried herself, the way she would’ve defended him against anyone, even himself.

“They’re gonna get married one day,” Sero said, voicing what everyone was thinking.

“He deserves it,” Bakugou murmured, surprising everyone.

“Come on, let’s leave them be,” Kirishima muttered, closing the door soflty.

#kaminari x reader #kaminari x reader fluff #denki x reader #denki x reader fluff #fluff #what was i thinking

[sleeperswakewriting]

After Class

For @himebee-5's prompt!

Summary: Petra is Professor Ackerman's star student and yet, she keeps meeting him for office hours every Monday afternoon.

Rated: E

CWs: teacher/student relationship, age gap, praise kink

Word count: 3.2k

Surprise! I queued up another fic for smutty Saturday since I'll be out for most of the day--enjoy! 😉

She was distracting.

Levi prided himself in his stellar concentration, his perfunctory work, and despite his cold and callous demeanor, he was an excellent professor. Always receiving high remarks from his students and colleagues, and managing to churn out at least two research papers a year, there was little that compromised his neat routine.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he faced the chalkboard, clearing his throat. Levi Ackerman didn’t make mistakes, but after one look at her, his mind went elsewhere as he absently completed the calculus equation and one student shakily raised his hand and said, “E-excuse me sir, but I think you forgot to take the derivative in the fifth step.”

Taking a step back, realizing that his glasses slipped from its usual position since he took a double take at her, he merely nodded and erased the step in which he made the error and redid the equation. He thanked the student and a flurry of pencils hit paper as they recorded the problem, and Levi glanced at his watch, giving them a few minutes before he moved on.

It’s wasn’t just the plaid mini skirt and thigh high stockings that did it--he knew he was enough of a perverted old man that he at least acknowledged that turned him on, but the way she sat in the front row, prim and studious as she eyed him for the hour and a half lecture made him feel stupidly special. Most students’ eyes glazed over, and he didn’t give a shit if they were on their phones, it was their time and money after all, but the way her amber orbs never left him was almost damn unsettling if she didn’t have such a coquettish look.

Her short ginger hair was pulled back with a red head band today, and as he was giving back the first test of the semester, he paused at her seat and said, “Good work, Ms. Ral,” while sliding the test face down onto her desk. She beamed, looking at the paper, and her face fell at the grade. Levi frowned slightly, wondering what she could possibly be upset about since she received an 88, the third highest in the class. Calculus wasn’t an easy subject, and it was usually the class where students on the science and math track chose to drop out and choose a different major.

After passing out the tests, he returned to the desk at the front of the classroom to collect his things and head back to his office for his office hours for the day. As most of the students filtered out of the classroom, Petra sat stark still at her desk, eyes running over her exam, and eyebrows contorted in confusion.

“Is something wrong, Ms. Ral?” he asked, slinging his messenger bag over his grey dress shirt, adjusting his tie, and she looked up, eyes aglow. Levi pretended not to notice the way her tight long sleeved shirt hugged her curves, and the v-neck emphasized her breasts when she brought her arms together in anguish.

“I’m trying to figure out where I went wrong, Professor. I’m really disappointed in myself, I thought I aced this test.”

Levi cocked his head. “You should be proud of yourself, you have one of the highest marks in the class.”

Petra shook her head in disbelief. “Even so, I think I made far too many silly mistakes.” She sighed, shoulders slumping in clear disappointment. “I guess I’ll try harder next time. Sorry professor, you probably have to go--”

“My office hours are now,” he said, the words leaving his lips without even thinking. His glasses shone from the ceiling lights of the high lecture hall, and he swallowed. “We can go over the test if you’d like.”

And she smiled brilliantly at him again, collecting her things and swinging her fashionable book bag over her shoulder as she followed him to the math building. Levi kept at least three feet ahead of her, not wanting to give her the impression they had to make small talk since the math building was on the opposite side of the quad, and he breathed a sigh of relief when they entered his office. It was at the end of the hall of the third floor, a quiet place since it was around lunch time and most students were at the dining hall.

Levi closed the old wooden door and gestured for her to sit at the front of his desk while he deposited his bag and thumbed through the manila folder for the answer key. Petra set her things down and unfurled her own test, using his desk as she tapped her pencil at the corner of her lips.

“So which problems were giving you trouble?” He asked, loose leaf paper at the ready, and Petra motioned to problem number three.

“I get tripped up when there’s a double integral, I think.” She was already making the amendments in her head and she asked him for a piece of paper as well. Levi withdrew another from his desk cadenza and his breath hitched as their fingers touched. Stop acting like a teenage boy, he scolded himself, wondering when the last time he went on a date or had gotten laid because this was ridiculous. She was at least ten years his junior, his student no less, and she was just asking her math professor for help, even though she clearly didn’t need it.

She crossed her legs cutely, emphasizing her thighs between the space between her skirt and socks, and Levi averted his gaze as he forced himself to concentrate on her bright tone, going over her process as she circled and made the adjustments from her previous attempt.

“Yes, that’s correct. You want to integrate x and treat y as the constant. It’s like in the partial example, which you completed correctly in problem one.”

Petra smiled, nodding as understanding entered her field of vision and she completed the problem with ease. “Thank you Professor! Can you give me a harder problem just to make sure I understood the concept?”

And as Levi did his best to not pay attention to the way she said harder, he opened up the math textbook and selected an exercise, scratching it onto the paper between them and slid it towards her.

The mahogany desk was slightly too tall for Petra to comfortably lean against from the chair, so she sat up and leaned over to solve the problem, orange hair falling from her tucked ears. This time, Levi didn’t even bother looking away since Petra was fully invested in solving the equation, and he felt his pants tighten as he noted the white lace bra she had on underneath, and her round mounds spilling from her top.

“Is this right?” She asked, finally finishing, sitting back down in her seat and Levi coughed as he fought down the flush on his face.

He stared at the problem, willing himself to concentrate on the numbers in her neat handwriting, but he was finding it difficult to focus as he noticed her licking her lips after reapplying some chapstick. He took it line by line until he finally nodded and said, “Good work.”

Petra returned the paper to her folder and touched his hand gently from across the desk. “Thank you Professor Ackerman, it really means a lot to me that you went out of your way to help me. I guess the reviews were right after all.” His eyebrows rose since he didn’t usually make a habit to read his class reviews but relied on the report that the school gave him at the end of each term.

“Oh really? What do the reviews say?”

Petra giggled, and Levi felt his heart stop at the beautiful sound. “Well for one, they say you’re the sexiest teacher on campus, but more importantly, students who take your class are set up for success for linear algebra, which is my goal. I’m an astronomy major.”

He didn’t know why he found that to be a turn on since he worked at a university where there were literally hundreds of majors, but before he had a chance to think, Petra had collected her things and waved as she made for the brass knob of his office door.

“See you next week, Professor!”

And the door clicked shut. Levi’s head was spinning, and if he didn’t know any better, Petra was outright flirting with him, and he was having a difficult time processing that. He moved to lock the office door and he double checked to make sure that he didn’t have any upcoming meetings. Sinfully, he laid back in his chair and closed his eyes while he unbuckled his pants.

She’s your student, you filthy fuck. But her shiny lips, her sweet voice, and her intellect…

He stroked himself, thinking of her, and he came quickly, her name on his lips as he imagined himself taking her between her plaid skirt and thigh high socks.

---

Monday afternoons became a ritual for them, and while Levi attempted to muster up every ounce of professional courage, he found himself unable to say no to her. Every day, after class, she would sweetly ask if she could go over the day’s lecture, and he would say yes and they would wordlessly walk to his office and repeat the same routine.

It was always strictly professional, but he could have sworn that she was intentionally taking off her jacket or sweatshirt in front of him, sometimes leaving her in only a crop top. He decided then that she was purposely trying to kill him because the blood rushed faster to his groin than he could will himself to stop. He had to keep himself firmly behind his desk, not wanting to scare her from his raging hard-on as she pattered on about her misunderstandings for the day, and he would mutely nod, watching her the entire time.

She stopped the week during finals, only visiting him after his final lecture and he missed her presence during the two week absence. He eagerly awaited the day of the final exam, just to pathetically see her again, and there she was, front and center, pencil at the ready.

“This is my last test,” she whispered to him excitedly as he handed her the exam and he gave a thin smile and muttered a ‘good luck’ to her row, but looked at her the entire time.

She was the last to leave, and she heaved a sigh of relief as she handed him her packet, looking joyful.

“How did you find the test, Ms. Ral?” he asked, sparing her a last glance before she left his classroom for the final time. His heart ached at that, but he supposed it was for the best since dreams and visions of her had plagued him since the beginning of the semester.

“I think I aced it, thanks to my excellent teacher.” And she gave him a dazzling smile as she walked away and Levi trailed her form until she disappeared.

--

It was a routine message that Levi sent out to all of his students, that if they wanted to go over their final exam that they could set up office hours. He didn’t allow for debating for points--he had no time for that, and his grading procedure was precise and calculated, but he set up time slots for ease of the students.

So when he saw Petra Ral in his email, requesting for the last time slot before the last day of the grading period, he hurriedly clicked accept even though she received a perfect score on her test.

It was spring, and the promise of a new future hung in the air when Petra entered his office, wearing a similar ensemble to when she first came in, a red plaid skirt, thigh high stockings, and this time, a white knit t-shirt that unbuttoned just at her cleavage. She poked her head in, and he noticed that she didn’t carry a book bag, but opted for a small purse that slung over one shoulder.

“Hi Professor!” she chirped happily, hands clasped behind her back. Levi allowed himself a smile as he took her in.

“What can I do for you Ms. Ral? Surely you don’t have any complaints about this test--congratulations on ruining the curve, by the way. Your classmates are furious.”

Petra laughed, feeling satisfied with herself as she gazed at him--sleeves rolled up to his forearms and he opted for a vest and tie set that complimented his eyes nicely. “I wanted to let you know that I’m taking Professor Hange’s class next semester for linear algebra.”

His heart fell; he was also teaching that class, but maybe it didn’t fit into her schedule. He didn’t meet her eyes as he said, “She’s a tough teacher, but she’s good at what she does. Don’t expect to be let go early, the woman can and will go on for hours.”

Petra smiled. “I’ll be sure to make a note of it.” And she shuffled between her feet as a light blush came to her cheeks. “I wanted to give you a thank you gift, for all the office hours you’ve given to me the past semester.”

Levi raised a thin eyebrow between his glasses. “You don’t have to do that, Ms. Ral. It’s part of my job. You’re an excellent student, you made my job very easy.”

She batted her eyelashes as she stepped closer to him. He was seated in his leather office chair, arms crossed and she took a deep breath as she stood a foot apart from him, hands still playing with each other behind her back. “It’s nothing expensive. And you can call me Petra, Professor, the semester is over.”

And before Levi could question her words, she leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek. Levi’s heart pounded in his chest, noticing that Petra was visibly shy despite the bold gesture she had just committed and he stared at her, slack jawed.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Levi’s eyes widened, and the hungry need he had for her over the past three months took over. Before he knew it, he was tugging at her wrist and she was straddling his lap, skirt pooling between them as he devoured her into a kiss, lips furiously nipping and biting as she let out an animated moan. Her hands went for his tie, pulling it from his vest and then around his neck where she buried her fingers into his undercut. A shiver of pleasure went down Levi’s spine as he settled his hands at her waist, then her back, and then at the fabric at the end of her shirt.

Panting, Petra raised her arms, signalling for him to take it off, and Levi let out a groan and a fucking hell at her lacy push up bra. Arms wrapped around each other again, Petra leaned into his chest, pressing her tits against him while she grinded against his lap, smiling as she devilishly noticed his hard-on between their clothing. Her breath was hot against his as she moved to unbutton his vest, and he raised himself to take it off, but let out a hiss as their centers made contact.

Not being able to help himself, Levi trailed his fingers up and down her legs, groaning that he was finally able to touch her, and the way the spandex hugged her skin was driving him crazy. He dove between her skirt, reaching for her panties and he played at her apex, noticing that she was incredibly wet, which only turned him on more.

Petra keened and threw her head back in pleasure as he began lavishing her neck with kisses and suckled at her jawline, happy that she tasted as beautiful as she looked. A light floral perfume danced across her flesh, and he inhaled her as he undid the headband from her hair, freeing the locks so he could bury his nose between them.

“Professor, ah, can you please touch me?” She asked weakly, eyes clenched shut from Levi’s ministrations and he chuckled.

“Only because you’ve been such a good student,” he whispered into her ear, and she nodded as he slipped a finger in, and pleasured sighs escaped both of their lips.

“God, you’re so fucking wet. Were you planning on this before you came in?” Levi asked, using his other hand to unbuckle his pants and slid down his zipper.

Petra was finding it harder and harder to think as Levi pumped into her, alternating between two and three fingers, teasing her clit and taking his hands away before she could go any higher. Vision going blurry, she reached for the back of her bra and undid the hook, letting it fall between them and Levi ripped it off, freeing her breasts.

He took a nipple between his teeth and bit down hard, earning a cry from Petra as she begged him to keep touching her while he buried his face into her chest. Petra moved to play with both of her nipples, all while riding against his hand and she felt like her heart was about to explode from Levi’s touch.

She slid her tongue against his lips, drinking him in as she asked him to help slide her panties down, and he obliged, but not before pocketing them into his pants. She shot him a questioning look, and he smirked, “This is my thank-you gift.”

Bashfully, Petra smiled and pawed him between his underwear, stroking his length up and down with her hand and she pulled his waist down just far enough to free his member. She gasped at his size, and Levi let out a hum of satisfaction while she took a moment to gaze at it, providing him with light touches.

“Levi, can I ride you?” She asked demurely, eyes fixated on his dick and he gripped her by the ass to guide her close.

Leaning over, he whispered into her ear, “That’s Professor Ackerman to you.”

Petra keened at his husky voice, and lowered herself onto him, moaning loudly as he breached her, dick hot against her tight entrance.

“That’s a good girl,” he encouraged, holding her close as she steadily bobbed up and down, her wetness providing enough slickness between them. His balls smacked against his legs, and her tits bounced each time she reached his hilt and she cried out.

Wild with lust, Levi toyed with her clit as she continued to ride him, fingers dancing and shaking as she paused to catch her breath. Their eyes met, and with equal fervor, they kissed as Petra braced her hands against his shoulders, pace increasing and then reaching her climax in a frenzy as she bobbed up and down.

“Professor,” she whined, releasing her hands and crying into his collar as she rode out her orgasm.

Levi’s eyes were clenched shut as her walls fluttered around him, her tightness becoming too much for him as he also met his own pleasure, and he pumped into her in short pulses. Breaths panting, he looked up to meet Petra, who was smiling between breaths.

Still sitting comfortably inside her, Levi laughed warily, unsure of where to go from here. Petra, still wrapping her body around his, licked the lobe of his ear as she said sultrily into his ear, “Did that count as extra credit?”

#rivetra #rivetra fanfiction #Levi x petra #petra x levi #petra ral #my fics

[scribbleb-red]

Neil is a lying liar who lies AU

A Morning AU - with a fab prompt from @djhedy

There’s a new boy in Andrew’s class and there’s something not quite right about him. He’s mouthy and sharp, the kinda kid that should end up in detention three times a week but never does.

They are seven years old, though the new kid looks five, with eyes like a wide open sky. 

He is very pretty - that’s why Andrew notices him first - he looks like a fairy prince. 

And it’s because Andrew is watching that he notices though: the kid is a big bad lying liar who lies. 

The day he joined, the kid said his name was ‘Stefan’ to Mrs Stewart and ‘Chris’ to Mr Brasenose. The next day he was just ‘Neil’ and was given a fond, exasperated warning to keep his make believe in the playground. 

 But the kid didn’t stop lying.

Some lies were big and others were small. 

On a Tuesday, Neil announced that he’d had a huge feast for breakfast - listing all the foods and making everyone’s mouth water with the descriptions. (But Andrew saw how he winced nd held his stomach like it was empty.)

On a Thursday, Neil said he grew up in England and proceeded to spend the next week speaking in a post English accent. (But he later admits at lunch it was just a couple months).

On a Friday, Neil whispers that his house is haunted and he’s scared to go home for the weekend. (There’s a little too much truth shining through those eyes as he talks about the ghost in his house. Andrew doesn’t doubt that he’s scared of something).

The following Monday, Neil explains his bruises by saying he spent the week learning to skateboard. 

“My cousin visited and let me use her skate board. It was pretty rad.” 

(Andrew eyes the split lip, it could be true. But then he sees the hand shape around Neil’s thin wrist and knows the truth: it’s a lie.)

Through it all, Andrew is very quiet and very alone. He knows how this goes - he’s seven years old with more cracks in his heart than a fifty year romantic - but he kinda enjoys Neil’s lies and how he gets away with them.

He particularly likes the outrageous ones: 

My father parachuted into Paris because he’s a spy. He died landing on the Eiffel Tower. I once wrestled a monster. I won but it stole all my mom’s apples. I’m telling the truth. My tongue goes green when I lie. I met Kevin Day.

Andrew won’t pretend he’s not intrigued. He thinks Neil is interesting and his lies are ones he can often hold in the dark, imagining over and over when he’s hurt and wishing to be anyone, anywhere but here.

Plus Neil is funny - he always snarks at the teachers and gets away with the most ridiculous things. Other kids always want to play with him because his games are brilliant - epic journeys, castles and wizards, magical tigers, patchwork villains made from the skin of children. 

Some of Neil’s tall tales are part fairytales, part nightmares.  And Andrew isn’t sure which part Neil actually belongs to. There are times where he’s the brightest, prettiest boy on the playground. And times where his eyes are haunted, mouth wicked cruel. And then there are times like today, where Neil is quiet and blank - a little too familiar to what Andrew sees in the mirror these days, looking like someone has scooped out his insides and left nothing but darkness behind in its wake. 

Andrew almost talks to him then. 

Almost.

But he doesn't. Not for another few weeks. Not until Neil's facing down Greg Doyle - the fight has the vibe of a hissing kitten against a rottweiler. 

 There's no way Neil can win. Greg is a third grader and big beside. 

But Neil doesn't look scared. He looks ferocious.

Not that appearances are going to help. Neil could have the sharpest claws of them all and he'd still weigh nothing against Greg. Neil dodges and ducks the first few blows. He snipes and snarks, that liar's mouth rattling off stories of how he took down a SWAT team once.

But dumb luck can’t do everything and finally Greg gets a thump in, straight across Neil’s jaw - hard enough to make him stagger. 

"So much for a SWAT team, fucking liar." 

There are gasps at the bad word from the growing first and second grade audience. 

"Tongue turns green," Neil says. He spits out blood.

Andrew's had enough when he sees the blood. 

Neil might be an idiot but Andrew knows that there's no way to win this one on alone He steps forward and puts himself between Neil and Greg. 

"Oooo who's this, your boyfriend?" 

Andrew would roll his eyes, but can't be bothered. He is the tallest kid in their year at nearly 4'5. He can look the nine year old Greg in the eye without trouble and he can see the bigger kid calculating his chances of taking Andrew on instead of the skinny little creature that was Neil "motor mouth" Josten.

"Back off," he says. He doesn't inflect. He watched a cartoon where a character spoke completely flat and it was really scary so he figures this might make Greg cower too. "Leave him alone."

Greg nearly steps into Andrew's space but someone has started a whisper: 

Andrew Doe is the kid who killed his parents. Andrew Doe is the kid that burned a house down. Andrew Doe is the kid who took on Bertie Becker from fifth grade and flushed his head down the loo.

It's the last one that gives away the source of these rumours - Neil has started a chain of Chinese whispers. And Greg hears them swirling from mouth to mouth, ear to ear, each more terrifying than the last. It makes Andrew want to grin, so he does. Greg actually whimpers.

The crowd laughs when Greg runs away - he can’t save face when he’s fleeing from a first grader. 

Andrew feels triumphant. 

 Especially when Neil steps up beside him, shy smile and summer sky eyes. “Thanks Andrew.” 

 Neil Josten knows his name, Andrew thinks. Wow wow wow.

Neil’s mouth is swollen but he’s still the prettiest boy in the playground so Andrew doesn’t say anything. 

“Want to play a game?” Neil says. 

 Andrew shrugs. 

 “Yes or no?” Neil says again. “I won’t force you but I’d like to play with you to if you’d like to play with me.”

Andrew thinks about it before saying yes. 

It’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

*

They start with games - make believe quests and imaginary journeys. They visit magical worlds in their heads and fall about laughing when one of them (mostly Andrew) doesn’t break character even for class.

They become inseparable - two boys with home lives full of ghosts but dreams that can take them anywhere. The lying liar is the better story teller but the stoic hero a better actor. And sometimes in games they hide their truths - violent families and horrifying pasts.

Neil shows Andrew his scars, “I sometimes say they’re from a shark or ninjas and stuff but...” 

“That’s from an iron.” 

“Yeah.”

In turn, Andrew tells Neil about his foster family. 

“We could poison him,” Neil says. “I heard we can make poison from apple cores. Applesenic or something.”

If only it were that simple.

It happens just before the end of the year - summer is nearly there and Andrew can only imagine how fun it'll be having a friend to adventure with for the first time. And then he finds out that his foster family is getting rid of him. He'll be packed off at the end of term.

"I think mom and I will move too," Neil admits. "We never hang around anywhere long." 

"Because of your dad?" 

"Yeah..." Neil plays with the hem of his t-shirt. "He's in prison but mom is still terrified. She moves us a lot." 

"Maybe you can move to the same place as me."

They pretend that the world isn't going to split them apart. 

They pretend that they're going to have the summer together. 

And the year after. 

That they'll start middle school together. 

And be best friends all the way to the end of high school.

And go to the same college.

"We could play exy together all the way through," Neil says. It's his new obsession. 

"I'm not going to play stickball. I prefer playing games with you." 

"We can play games on the court. You can be the fierce dragon and I'll be the knight that looks after you."

"You'd steal all my dragon gold." 

"Would not." 

Andrew raises one eyebrow. 

"Okay, yes I would. I'd be the knight trying to take your gold. But I'd be sneaky about it." Neil's laughter is high and bright. "Does that mean you'll play with me?" 

"Yeah okay," Andrew says.

But it doesn't work out that way. 

Neil vanishes like sun behind a mountain the day after term ends. 

Andrew's bags are packed. He's dumped in a new home near the beach. He hates the beach. He misses Neil the way his lungs miss oxygen when he's stuck in the swell of a wave.

He does play exy though. 

He does it because he figures one day he'll find Neil on a court too. 

He'll either face him down or by some miracle they'll be on the same team. 

He'll find Neil again. He will.  

He tells himself this every day. 

Even when it feels like a lie.

*

Something like an epilogue

Years pass before Andrew hears anything about the little boy who - for two semesters when he was seven - was his best friend. So many years that if it weren't for one polaroid from a cheeky arcade photo-booth, he might have let the idea of Neil go.

But he keeps the photo with him - through home after home, through Cass and Drake and juvie and Aaron and Nicky. He hides it in books, folds it into pockets. Makes sure to hold onto Neil and the memories of those few happy months.

He plays exy. Keeps track of other teams and their players. The sport does nothing for him - but sometimes he closes his eyes and imagines Neil with his flashing blue eyes mischievous smile and that long ago conversation. He remembers why he's doing this.

At 13, he asks Pig Higgins to do a search on Neil's name but the policeman refuses. 

At 14, he goes through the entire directory for California and when that's exhausted, he starts searching every state from West to East. 

He calls 362 Jostens across the USA. None are Neil.

When he turns 16, he uses a fake and has two small dragons outlined on the top of his left shoulder. 

When he's 17 he meets Riko and Kevin Day. He remembers Neil once saying he'd met Kevin and wonders if that was true or just one of Neil's many many lies. He turns the Ravens down.

He signs two weeks later with the Palmetto State Foxes - taking his brother and cousin with him. 

He watches as the lists of drafted players on other teams go up. There's no Chris or Stefan or Abram - not with the matching face Andrew wants. There's no sign of a Neil Josten.

Andrew smooths out the photo at night, slipping it between the pages of Whitman's Leaves of Grass every morning. 

Maybe it's time to put the memory of Neil to rest, but he can't. 

Neil is one of those beautiful ghosts that he can't help but hold onto. The one unspoilt thing in his memory.

Unspoilt, that is, until a Monday when Kevin Day announces he's recruiting a nobody from a nothing town in the middle of nowhere Arizona and the nobody's name is Neil.

"Neil what?" 

"Josten. Want to see his tape?" 

"Nope," Andrew says. But his heart is a thunderdrum, hope cutting through the medicated hyper mania easy as a knife through butter. "Actually yes, gimme the tapes little birdie." 

Kevin grimaces at his nickname but says nothing until they’re watching the tape. And then he can’t shut up about the player’s potential, his speed and natural flare on the Court. 

It's not Andrew’s Neil. 

But it is too. 

The striker on the court is a brunette with dark eyes but he runs like Neil. He's ferocious and plays like it's the last thing keeping him afloat. He has that little flick of his racquet before he goes to score, a telltale that would never get passed Andrew but no one else seemed to have noticed. 

Andrew says as much to Kevin. 

"Exactly," Kevin says. "That's why we have to have him."

So they go to Millport. 

And Andrew knows Neil well enough to anticipate that he'll run. 

Knows him well enough to trip him with a racquet and catch him as he falls. 

Neil hasn't grown much either - he's still small and sharp and far too pretty to be real.

"Stupid little liar, you should watch where you put your feet." Andrew wishes he were sober. Wishes he didn't have to greet Neil with this grin splitting his face. 

Wishes wishes wishes. 

But his one wish has already come true, Neil is here with him. Warm and lithe and alive.

"Drew?" Neil says, but the word is choked and breathless. Neil’s voice does something to Andrew’s insides and Andrew feels the muscles beneath his hands warring between flight and relief. 

"Neil," he replies. 

"Oh my god, Drew." 

And then Neil's arms are around Andrew's shoulders, and his face is turning into his neck and Andrew realises they're hugging and he shouldn't want to hug back but he does. He does because it's Neil. His friend. His pipe dream. The little boy with the pathological need to lie and an imagination that could create whole worlds from a handful of dust. 

He hugs Neil tight. 

Never wants to let go.

Kevin of course ruins the moment. 

But Neil isn't going to say no to the Foxes. Not now. 

And even though Andrew can recognise the lies slipping passed Neil's lips, he doesn't tell Wymack. Doesn't call out his idiot's new ouchies. Doesn't answer any questions when Kevin demands answers.

"Sign," he speaks only to Neil. He means, Stay with me. "We can play a game. Yes or no?" 

"Yes," Neil says and his smile is a little wild, a lot wonderful. "Let's play a game."

The End.

#andreil #all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten #kind of a kid fic #morning au #andrew and neil meet in first grade #neil is a pathological liar #andrew thinks he's amazing #andrew has probably loved neil since they were seven in this #does that make them childhood sweethearts? #andrew is tallest in the class #neil is a mouthy little shit #pre canon #pre slash #squint and there's romance #promot fic #in every world they're meant to find each other let's be honest here #truth for truth #yes or no

[shhhlikeme]

Hiiii! I have a request! So if you write for tanaka, can you do one with the reader being really smart and getting pestered by the third years to tutor tanaka. So she does and he catches feeling ( so does she ) but,,,, can it somehow lead to them kissing ( maybe making out 😳 ). Sorry if this is confusing. Love your writing so far btw😘😘

Tanaka x Uber Intelligent Tutor 🤓🔥

———————————

Thank you sooo much! So I actually added yours with another request I received because it’s uncanny how similar they are.

This is the other request in my inbox that will remain anon: hey im kinda shy about sending asks without anon on so if you could write something about the reader being really smart and having a crush on (doesn't matter who but i guess just one of the guys that need help in canon) and getting assigned to tutor them, I would absolutely love you forever 💙

I hope you both enjoy it!!!!

———————————

Tanaka was going to kill his best friend Nishinoya.

At the moment, he was whispering all of the evil ways he was going to kill him for this.

Tanaka was hiding in his sister Saeko’s bathroom on the opposite end of his house. He had checked that he was alone twice before shutting the door and instantly dialing his libero friend’s number on FaceTime. He was going to kill him.

Back at Nishinoya’s house, he was bubbling over in laughter in his room at his friend’s expense. He kicked up his feet onto the wooden table in front of him that his mom always yells at him for putting his feet on.

“Now, Now, Ryu.....you and I both know that death by your teddy bear is not even possible.” He smiled that wide smile that took up his whole face.

Tanaka growled, “Wanna bet?!”

Ok, sure, granted. Maybe Nishinoya should have warned his best friend that the person the 3rd years convinced to tutor him was Y/N......one of the most gorgeous girls in school.....so that Tanaka could have been better equipped for their study sessions......but where was the fun in that?

“I told you that [Your Last Name] was your tutor. I didn’t lie!”

Tanaka settled down a bit because Nishi was right. He did say that [Your Last Name] would be his tutor. But that didn’t make him any less of a little shit. Because Nishinoya knew Tanaka well enough to know that he would hear that last name and think of Y/N’s little brother who was in their year. It would make more sense for that butt-wad of a hall monitor to be his tutor over his nerdy-hottie of an older sister. She isn’t even in our year!

Nishinoya explained that in his defense, he didn’t know either, until he eavesdropped on his upperclassmen’s conversation with the beautiful merit scholar. And no Nishinoya was totally not skipping class to see where Kiyoko was heading stalker ass

Flashback ———-

You held your books close to your chest as your fellow classmates Asahi, Sugawara, Daichi, and Kiyoko surrounded you at your locker.

“It would be just this once.” Daichi explained desperately.

“Is there anything we can do to repay you? Have an aunt that needs help moving?” Sugawara chirped.

Asahi nodded. “We could do your homework.....while you help him? Please.” The tallest boy smiled.

You moved away from the three boys because they were unknowingly crowding your claustrophobic self. You could feel a panic coming on and you really wished you were back in the library with your books.

Kiyoko stretched her hand in front of the 3 boys and hissed at them to step back and give you space in her sweet but monotone voice. They did so immediately and you caught your breath. Kiyoko was so nice! She was great at corralling those volleyball boys it was almost admirable. They were quite the bunch.

Kiyoko gave you a sweet smile as she turned her gaze to you. She explained to you sweetly that Tanaka, one of Karasuno’s starting wing spikers, was about to fail Biology and since you were a student teacher in another Biology class for the second years you’d be a perfect tutor for him. If you had time. She added that they would realllly appreciate it.

Tanaka? You thought to yourself. You vaguely remember hearing your little brother complain at the dinner table about the amount of hall passes he had to give to this shaved-head boy named Tanaka. Yes, and that he was on the volleyball team. So that must be him.

As you began to recall the face, you definitely recalled the body. This one time you were leaving school from grading papers and the team ran by you. The only shirtless one caught your eye, because he was lean and all muscle. You had to hide your drool behind one of your books and scurry home before you jumped on his back for a piggyback ride.

You were smart .... not a horny-less teenage girl

Snapping you out of your head, Kiyoko took your hands between both of hers and asked if you could “pretty please” help him because they needed him in the next game.

Sugawara couldn’t resist but say yes to Kiyoko’s “pretty please” and Daichi pestered him because obviously the beautiful Kiyoko wasn’t talking to him!

Stunned, you nodded. You did have the time. And you wanted to help. You were a student teacher for the subject anyway, so what’s one more student right? Asahi, Daichi, and Suga have been so sweet to you during your 3 years with them and who could say no to Kiyoko anyway?

You agreed. And just like that the following Saturday you headed over to Tanaka’s house for tutoring.

End of Flashback ———-

When Tanaka opened the door, looking like a slob because he couldn’t care less what his enemy hall monitor thought of his looks— his jaw dropped to the FLOOOOOOR

A stuttering mess, he asked you what you were doing here.

You shook the stack of biology books in your hand in front of his face to remind him and you blushed.

He looked homeless and cute to you!

He slapped his forehead with his hand and moved so you could come in.

Tanaka awkwardly made you wait outside his shut bedroom door while he rummaged through everything and cleaned to the best of his ability at “rolling thunder” speed, stuffing everything into his closet and using all his strength to push it closed. He sprayed a few spritz of his favourite cologne around the room before he swung the door back open and tried to play it cool.

“Uhh, sorry about that — I had to....uh....study.”

You laughed. “Study? Without me? Isn’t that why I’m here?” You pushed the books into his chest for him to hold as you walked into the room.

Tanaka rushed to reason. “It’s always good to study.....before......you....study. It’s like stretching before a volleyball game right? Ha-ha.”

You stifled a giggle.

He rubbed the back of his head. “I think saw it on Dr. Phil or something.” He finished.

You threw your head back and laughed even harder. Tanaka cursed himself and Nishinoya in his mind for leading him to embarrass himself like this. Once he was done that he couldn’t help but admire how whimsical your laugh was. Fuck....were you gorgeous as ever. You had that prestigious type of beauty, in which he knew you were his Senpai and soooo far out of his league but you were talking to him and it made him sweat. Also, he could very well be sweating because you were wearing a v-neck blouse and your boobs were bouncing with you as you giggled. Oh, God. Tanaka bit his bottom lip.

Excusing himself to shower, (because he wasn’t going to if it was your brother here) he grabbed his towel and made a swift exit before he sported a hard on.

How the FUCK was he going to study with Hottie-McSmarty Pants...Ette in his room ?!?!

Once he locked himself in his sister’s bathroom .... he called to threaten Nishinoya’s life and hung up on him when Nishi reminded him that Y/N tied with Kiyoko on the second years “Hot Girl List” in the boys’ bathroom. He didn’t want to be reminded of that fact when she was steps away and his Libero knew that.

Frustrated, Tanaka took a very fast and very cold shower before returning to his room.

Upon return, you looked up as he walked in and instinctively licked your lips. He only had a towel wrapped around his waist and drops of water were running down his abs slowly. Is this guy really only in second year?! With muscles like that......

“Sorry.” Tanaka snapped as he quickly grabbed some clothes and left to change in his sisters empty room. He didn’t dare look at you out of embarrassment so he didn’t catch you ogling.

3 hours into the study session, Tanaka began wishing that he did do something in the shower to ease his hormones instead of merely opting for a cold one.

You were so hot and so smart which only added to your hotness even more and you smelled good which ALSO added to your hotness even more and you kept leaning over him from behind to explain things and Tanaka couldn’t breathe. He was, however, understanding everything you were teaching him.

You both continued these tutor sessions for the next few weeks, meeting every Saturday for most of the day. Tanaka found you to be more than just good looks and brains. The fact that you could run circles around intellects twice your age turned him on, yes, but he also found you witty, kind, and funny and that laugh of yours was something he wished he could program into his phone as his ringtone. He was crushing big time.

And I mean......you were crushing too, as much as you tried to deny it. He was the funniest person on the planet and he was so protective of you and you definitely wanted to confess to him before you graduate and leave for College

One Saturday when you came over you had shut up Tanaka’s school work complaints because apparently he heard from Dr. Phil that studying is bad for your health - you gave Tanaka a practice quiz to he had to gauge his progress. As he began, you collapsed on your back on his bed, letting out a big sigh and whispering to him how comfortable his bed is.

Tanaka gasped quietly. HOT SMART CRUSH ON HIS BED ?! HOT SMART CRUSH COMPLIMENTING HIM ON HIS BED ?! This can’t be.

He tried his best to turn away and focus on his quiz that you gave him but he just couldn’t. Yes, his hormones were acting up but his heart was beating more. He wanted you to sleepover and not even do anything physical. He just wanted you here, in his room, by his side, forever.

Baby boy is in looo-

You closed your eyes on the bed and basked in the scent of him that his bed captured. You were so happy just smelling him and being here. You imagine yourself sleeping in his bed overnight, imagining his strong arms holding you close to his shirtless chest and your breath hitched.

At least you thought it did.

But that wasn’t your breath. Not at all.

You quickly opened your eyes to see that Tanaka has transported on to the bed beside you, his face hovering over yours. Why wasn’t he breathing? He was just looking at you with adoring eyes as if you were the most gentle and precious thing in the world. “Ryūnosuke... what are you-“

“I’ll do the stupid test, teach....” His eyes softened as he leaned in just a little bit closer. “Just let me look at you....” He whispered to himself as his beautiful eyes scanned every part of your face.

Neither of you said anything as you stared at each other. You wanted him closer. You wanted him much closer. And although you had much more knowledge on cell duplication than romance (you hadn’t even kissed a boy yet), you used your social intelligence to read the moment and you dared a glance at his lips.

Tanaka a.k.a the VERY LOST self proclaimed babe lover—- bless his heart, did not take the hint.

So you had to be obvious.

“Tanaka...?” You called.

“Hm?”

“Screw. The. Test.”

Even though you found it sweet that he didn’t make a move, and that he in fact did just want to look at you, you lifted your head up from off the bed just a bit so that your lips met with his.

Tanaka was shocked for a second but quickly regained his footing. He immediately sighed into the kiss and kissed you passionately. So passionately you were dizzy within the first 4 seconds. He asked for entrance and you opened your mouth to let his gracious tongue in. He skillfully French kissed you until you forgot your own name. He was undoubtedly an incredible kisser. You moaned into his mouth as you two made out and in response Tanaka slowed the kiss down. In his mind, he didn’t want you to think he was trying to make you moan and get the wrong idea about him. He didn’t want you to think anything that may jeopardize this kiss and make you stop. He had no intention of stopping and he was happy as a camper just making out.

for the record, your moan did go straight to his dick 

You figured Tanaka’s objective was to help you gain your senses back but all slowing the kiss down did was make it more sensual and pleasurable for you.

Homeboy can KISSSSSSSSS

Up until now you were the tutor. You were the one in charge, you had all the answers. And just like that it only took one kiss for your relationship to surpass physical boundaries causing the roles to reverse. You followed his lead, you let him kiss you the way he wanted because it felt so damn good.

What subject were you teaching him again? You forget.

Because at the moment he was the teacher.

This was his class now...

And as Tanaka moved down to start placing the same agonizingly slow kisses on your neck..... you were hit smack in the face with the realization that class was in session.

Good thing you always enjoyed being top of the class. 

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

get it? 

LOOOOL. 

#tanaka x y/n #tanaka x you #tanaka x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyu requests #haikyu #haikyuu boys #haikyū!! #new writers on tumblr

[everyonesannoyedwithme]

play the role of anyone but me, ii

haha since im making the most of motivation, here's chapter 2 already! tag list at the end :) also yes this chapters title is from an ariana grande song. get used to it.

warnings: cursing

word count: 1,408

chapter ii: fight our energy

English, math, and chemistry were excruciating. Julie was a good student, of course, but going over the same syllabus in each class over and over again was not her thing. Luckily, fourth period was music class, and then she had lunch. Unluckily, Patterson, Peters, and Mercer were in her music class.

Julie, Flynn, and Carrie all had third period and fourth together, so they walked together to music class, and when they got there, it was practically empty. The three girls, who had long since ditched their coffees and teas, chose seats together in the middle of the room.

Not long after the girls had settled into their seats, the bell rang and Mrs. Harrison, the music teacher, moved to close the door. As she reached for the handle, three boys slid into the classroom. Peters and Patterson raced to the last empty seats in the back of the room, Peters practically falling out of his seat and Patterson unable to contain his laughter. Mercer just stood in front of Mrs. Harrison with a tired expression on his face.

“Hi, Alex.” the teacher said with a raised eyebrow.

“Hi, Mrs. Harrison. Sorry about them.” He gestured vaguely towards the two others.

“It's alright. At least they’re amusing.” She said with a slight smile. Mercer chuckled before going to take the last available seat. Coincidentally next to Carrie. Julie, Carrie, and Flynn all rolled their eyes at each other.

“Okay class. I’m sure you’ve tuned out all your other teachers when they read through the syllabus, so I’ll let you all do that in your own time. I expect you will all turn it in on Friday signed by at least one parent.” Mrs. Harrison said to the class. “Now. Onto the interesting stuff; to kick off the year, I have decided to host a songwriting contest!” Murmurs rippled through the class, kids sitting up in their seats and glancing at each other. “Just one catch - you must work with a partner, and it must be the partner I assign for you.”

Everyone groaned.

“Oh c’mon Mrs. H, can’t we just write alone?” Patterson called out.

“No, this is meant to be a team exercise. You will be graded on how smoothly your song flows and the incorporation of different instruments in your song, as well as a subjective grade from each of your peers. Which means you will perform for the class.”

Another groan from the students.

“God, I hope we get paired together.” Julie leaned over and whispered to Flynn. All three girls wrote music, but Carrie always wrote alone. Flynn and Julie had written together before, and both girls were crossing their fingers that they'd get paired together.

“Okay, I'm going to read out your partners now. No trading. Kravet and Keller. Adams and Hill.” Julie glanced around at the rest of the class. She could do this, it wouldn't be horrible to get paired with someone who wasn't Flynn. As long as it wasn't-

“Molina and Patterson.” Mrs. Harrison called out to the class.

“Shit.” Julie whispered. Carrie and Flynn's heads whipped around to Julie with sympathetic expressions. “Shit, fuck, shit. Fucking hell.” Clearly, the only words in Julie’s vocabulary at the moment were curse words.

“Jones and Wilson.” was the next duo to leave Mrs. Harrison's mouth.

Great. Her two best friends were paired together and she got stuck with Mr. McBiceps Electric Guitar. Just Julie’s luck.

“Peters and Danforth-Evans. Evans-McKessie and Mercer. And finally, Jacobs and Barry. You have the rest of today’s class to get to know your partner and start brainstorming. You'll get one class every week to work on your song, but other than that I expect each of you to meet outside of school. The song is due next Friday. Now get to work!” Mrs. Harrison called before starting to make the rounds around the class.

Julie glanced behind her and locked eyes with Patterson. He looked smug. She turned back around and sighed loudly before grabbing her back and standing from her seat.

“Wish me luck ladies. If you hear any screams from the back of the classroom, it's just me strangling him with his guitar strap. No big deal.” She joked.

Carrie and Flynn laughed before both hugging her.

“Good luck, babe.” Flynn said.

“Yeah, and maybe try not to kill them. I'll never hear the end of it from Bobby if my best friend killed his.” Carrie joked.

Julie half smiled, but it felt like a wince. She slowly made her way to the back of the classroom, where Patterson was. Fortunately, Kayla Evans-McKessie, Mercer’s partner, was back there too. She and Patterson were in the middle of a heated argument when Julie got to the empty seat next to Patterson.

“Wow, Patterson. Is it natural instinct for you to annoy every girl you interact with?” Julie asked mock-sympathetically. Kayla laughed.

“Definitely seems like it. Sorry you got stuck with him.”

“Hey!” Patterson exclaimed. “I’m right here.”

Kayla and Julie looked at each other and then back at the boy. “We know.” they said in unison before laughing.

“Kayla!” Mercer called. “C’mon, we have to get started.”

Kayla smiled at Julie quickly before going back to her seat next to Mercer.

“Julie Molina.” Patterson said with an appreciative smile. “Damn, I got lucky. Second best songwriter in the class!”

Julie raised an eyebrow at him. “Second best?”

“Second to me, obviously. You aren't better than me, princess, no matter how pretty your voice is.” Julie scowled at his words.

“First off, don’t call me that. Second, if anyone in this class is better at songwriting than me it's Carrie, not you.” She snapped.

“Sure thing, princess. Whatever you say.” Patterson said, grinning that stupid smile of his.

“Ugh. Look, we have to write this song and I am not losing.”

“Good to hear, because neither am I.”

“I thought maybe we could build upon a song I already started. I have a basic melody line - for the piano, obviously - and it would just need layering and lyrics.” Julie pulled her journal out of her bag and handed it to Patterson, the book already open to the song she had started the day before.

“Hm…” Patterson said as he looked over what she had. “It’s nice, but kind of boring. What if during the chorus we add something like this?” He grabbed a pencil from the small pocket of his backpack and started writing over what she had.

When he handed it back to Julie, she read over what he had written humming along.

“This is… actually really good. You came up with it just now?” she asked.

“No, I had been working on it last week. Couldn't figure out what it was missing until you handed me what you had. Your cute little melody had everything my rockin’ idea needed, princess.” Patterson said with a wink. Julie rolled her eyes, fighting a smile.

She was not allowed to find that cute.

“We should meet after school. I want to get this over with as quickly as possible. My place?” Julie said, glancing at the clock. The bell was going to ring in a minute, the class having moved faster than she anticipated.

“Sure. But I’m gonna need your address, princess.” God, that smirk was going to drive Julie crazy, only if the dumb nickname didn't do so first.

“How about you just put your number in my phone and I’ll text it to you?” Julie asked. She wanted this to take as little time as possible and if the agonizing boy had to have her phone number for that to happen, then so be it. Reaching into her back pocket, Julie pulled her phone out and opened a new contact. Patterson plucked her phone out of her hand, a shit-eating grin spreading on his face.

“Y’know, if you wanted my number, princess, you could’ve just asked.” He said before handing her phone back. Julie pursed her lips and shot him a glance before looking down at the name he had entered as his contact.

Luke ;) 💕

Julie was almost ready to make good on her statement to Flynn and Carrie and strangle the boy when the bell rang, saving him. Patterson pulled his bag onto his shoulder and started walking backwards out of the classroom, his eyes trained on Julie the whole time.

“No booty calls!” He yelled from the doorway.

Julie turned pink. As if.

tag list: @lydias--stiles 

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fic #jatp fic #julie molina #luke patterson #juke #juke fic

[ultimate-fangirl34]

Hello, Goodbye- a Steo fic

1655 words

(Sorry about the weird spacing)

Theo was nine when he first met Stiles. He'd just moved to Beacon Hills, anxious to be starting at a new school.

"You'll be fine," his parents had said as they ushered him out the door, out the car, up to the front gate.

Theo was not fine.

He'd never been popular. Asthmatic, scrawny, weak. He was terrible at sports, always last to be picked, always pushed to the back. He'd barely made friends at his previous school, years of scraping and bowing, finally earning himself a seat at the table. Any table. And now he had to start again.

Cursory introductions, assigned seatings, new books. And assigned to Scott McCall.

Theo wasn't stupid. Far from it- he liked to think he made up for his lack of physical prowess with his mind. Intelligent, sharp-witted, and more cunning than any nine year old had a right to be. He knew he'd been paired up with Scott because he was also asthmatic.

Despite his condition, Scott was very athletic. He was tall, lean. Theo could tell he was gonna grow up to be a heartbreaker. He was kind, too. He showed Theo round the school, introduced him to classmates, to teachers. To Stiles.

Stiles Stilinski. Scrawny, goofy, with a dark sense of humour that Theo could appreciate. And those eyes. Bright, fiery, rebellious. From the moment Theo laid eyes on Stiles, he felt a pull, like a magnet. It was the effect he had on people. Popular yet not popular. Known but not seen.

Ingratiating himself into Scott's friendship circle was easy. Scott liked people. He was so trusting, quick to smile, slow to anger. Steady. Polar opposites with his best friend. Stiles trusted very few people. Suspicious of everyone, quick to anger- to feel any emotion, really. They were suited for each other. And, Theo thought, suited for me.

Jealousy is an ugly emotion. Festering. And yet, so empowering. Theo felt only satisfaction at alienating Stiles from Scott. Splitting them up would leave them alone, hurting. And who be there to soothe their pain but Theo Raeken? Scott fell into his trap- sweet, gullible Scott. All that was left was for Stiles to do so too, who, if Theo was being perfectly honest with himself, was his preferred target.

But Theo had underestimated Stiles. For Stiles had seen right through his trap. Theo knew this the moment Stiles stepped into the classroom, eyes hard as steel, face set like stone. He looked at Theo only once, the rage in his eyes so intense Theo was sure he would combust on the spot.

It was weeks until Theo really saw him again. He was stood by Scott, head down, shoulders slumped in the first sign of defeat Theo had ever seen in the boy. Scott was smiling gently, one hand rested on Stiles' shoulder. In that moment, Theo knew he had lost. Somehow, despite everything, Stiles had still beaten him.

He had been so angry, so hurt. He'd run to the woods, face wet with snow and definitely not tears- Theo Raken does not cry- and screamed into the trees.

That night, Tara Raken froze to death in a river, leg broken, lips blue.

Theo moved away three days later, eyes alight with the promise that one day he would return. And then, he would win.

————————————————————

Theo returned to Beacon Hills nine years later. He'd started planning it ever since he'd left, young and foolish and ignorant. Nine years to refine his wit, sharpen his mind. Nine years to win back what he'd lost.

Nine years to win back Stiles Stilinski.

He was certain that it would work this time. He'd use the same tactics as last time, then go to Stiles instead. Stiles knew how to hold a grudge- there's no way he'd let Scott back easy.

Theo wasn't expecting Stiles to still hold a grudge against him.

"I remember Theo in the third grade!"

Theo wasn't expecting that sentence to make his heart flutter so. Making use of his extended heading to keep up with what was happening to his former friends. Stiles remembers him. Stiles remembers him.

But then there was Lydia. The moment that annoying, ginger haired bitch walked in-scene, Stiles' eyes filled with the most disgusting display of love Theo had ever seen. Even after all these years, Stiles was still in love with the wrong person. Not that he knew who the right person was, of course.

And then Stiles killed Donovan. Theo had to admit, he was kinda proud. His little Stiles was all grown up, had taken the final rite of passage. Stiles, of course, didn't see it as an achievement. He would need comfort, kindness. Not critique and scorn. Not for Scott to find out.

So Scott had to find out.

It was so easy to convince Scott of Stiles' anger. He wasn't exactly known for his calm and peaceful temper. And Scott wasn't exactly known for changing his views. He had a stick so far up his ass it was a wonder he could sit down. For all Scott preached tolerance and understanding, he sure was stagnant in his opinions.

And now Theo could step in. Words of comfort, of understanding. "Wouldn't my eyes be blue too?" And Stiles seemed so grateful. Especially since Theo had pulled him from the burning truck. He finally had what he'd always wanted. He finally had his Stiles.

Naturally, everything went wrong.

Stiles, being the kind, golden boy he is, naturally didn't like what Theo was doing with the Dread Doctors. And, being the best brothers they are, Stiles and Scott naturally made up. And, being the outsider, Theo naturally had to leave. Again.

What would it take for Stiles to see him as someone he can trust? Someone he can rely on? That Scott taking up his loyalty. That Lydia whore taking up his love. They were two very long, very sharp thorns in his side. Why couldn't Stiles see that everything he did, he did for him. Scott and Lydia, they didn't have his best interests at heart. Theo did. He would do whatever it took to show Stiles that.

But then Tara was there. She was dragging him down, down, down, and all he could think was "now I'll never have him".

————————————————————

"You remember Stiles?"

One of the most terrifying sentences Theo had ever heard. Of course he remembered Stiles. His fast mind, his fidgeting hands, his intelligent eyes. Why wouldn't he? Why didn't they?

Theo changed his mind. Being told that Stiles been erased from existence was the most terrifying this he'd heard. His sweet, clever boy was suffering. Was gone. That simply wouldn't do.

But of course, no one could keep Stiles away from his friends for long. He'd exploded back into existence, wielding that ridiculous baseball bat, and had saved his friends' lives. Yet again. Those monsters didn't stand a chance against him.

Running around that hospital with Liam was more fun that Theo expected. Fighting the hunters, like the games of hide-and-tag he used to play with Tara. And then he'd seen Stiles- beautiful, beautiful Stiles- stood beside Scott, almost glowing. Theo could swear his heart stopped. But, of course, he was stood next to Scott. So Theo did what he did best.

He disappeared.

————————————————————

Never did he believe that he'd be fighting alongside Scott. And against Gerard, no less. Theo had to hand it to him- the old hunter had the survival skills of, well, Theo.

It definitely seemed like an ending, with old foes and allies alike appearing out of the shadows. While the McCall Pack set off to fight the Anukite, Theo helped keep the hunter army at bay. Argent kept shooting him distrustful glances- as did the Sheriff, amusingly resembling his son for just a moment. Theo rolled his eyes. He wasn't gonna screw this up. Keeping his father safe would definitely put Theo in Stiles' good books.

And then it was over. A weight lifted from Theo's stomach as he watched Stiles bound towards his father. He shot Theo a grateful glance, a little nod, before turning back to that ginger Lydia hag. She caught his glare, a small smile playing her lips. Of course she could smirk and grin. She had Stiles. And, suddenly, she didn't, because she was pushing him away, towards- towards Theo.

Theo blinked, Lydia winked. She mouthed at him don't screw this up, and then she was gone. And Stiles was here. Stiles was here.

"Hi," Stiles seemed uncomfortable, but Theo didn't care. Stiles was here.

"I see you survived," stay calm, Theo, stay neutral.

"Yup. My, er, my dad said you did pretty good. Thanks for, y'know, for looking out for him." Theo had never seen him so flustered. His cheeks were tinged pink, eyes unable to stay still. Then they did it. His eyes dipped down, staring at Theo's lips, before raising to meet his eyes, then looking away quickly. And Theo finally understood.

"I remember Theo in third grade."

"Don't screw this up."

He glanced down at Stiles' lips, then back up to those dark eyes. Stiles had definitely noticed and yet, he didn't move away. If anything, he leaned in closed. Theo set his mind.

He wouldn't fail this time.

————————————————————

"Um, Lydia?"

"Hmm?"

"What the fuck is going on?"

Lydia smirked, following Peter's gaze. Theo and Stiles seemed to be devouring each other, lustful and needy. Lydia laughed.

"I always said I was attracted to the gay ones," she sighed. "First Jackson, now Stiles... I can't complain though. This just means I'm ready for another steamy romance."

"But..." Peter still seemed stunned. Lydia laughed, patting his back. A quick glance round the room showed that Scott had now noticed, as had the Sheriff, both wearing identical expressions of shock, mouth agape, eyes wide. She sighed, nudging shoulders with Peter.

"Everything is as it should be."

#stiles stilinski #theo raeken #teen wolf #tw #steo #slash #x #fanfic #fantiction #mieczyslaw #gay #meme #incorrect quotes #funny #steoday

[sprnklersplashes]

written in ink (cadnis one-shot)

Ever since Janis could read, she's known one of the biggest plot twists in Harry Potter. Not because she worked it out, but because it's been tattooed on her skin all her life. Her soulmate spoiled Dumbedore's death for her.

The AU where the first words you hear your soulmate say are tattooed on your body, Cadnis style.

Since she was old enough to read, Janis had wondered what her soulmate’s first words to her could mean. It’s pretty scary, especially for a kid, knowing that the first words you ever hear your soulmate saying will be about someone dying. She’s puzzled over who the future death might be even more than she has about who her future soulmate might be. She doesn’t want to ask her parents for fear it’s someone close to them, nor does she think to look it up at her young age and so for the first few years of her life her world is dominated by one, huge, unavoidable question; who in her future dies, and what they are to her soulmate.

But then she’s old enough to know about Harry Potter, and she doesn’t need to wonder any more.

Her soulmate tattoo, etched in black across her ribs, reads I just can’t believe Dumbledore died.

She got two pages into Philosopher’s Stone before she made the connection and flung the book across her bedroom, her eyes popping out of her head and her jaw on the floor. The first question on her mind is “what kind of insane author kills off the main character’s mentor?”, but soon she’ll learn that frankly, that is the least of JK Rowling’s problems. The second question is “so… my soulmate is into Harry Potter?”. And then the third question comes slowly, creeping into her brain with tentative steps and simmering excitement, “so when do I get to meet them?”.

She doesn’t get a quick answer to that last one.

It’s a bit of a pain really, having a major spoiler to everyone’s favourite book series permanently written on her body. For one, there’s always a surge of pity in her chest when she sees people with the books, oblivious to the impending death of a beloved parental figure. Like God’s cursed her with forbidden knowledge that places her above her classmates, where she can watch them live in blissful ignorance until they reach the fated book or movie or just Google it because they’re too impatient. Janis is denied that luxury, her knowing of events yet to come too much for her to even give the books a chance. They’re not worth the way her heart clenches painfully in her chest whenever the wise old wizard comes in.

Okay that was an exaggeration. There are far better books out there that she’s happy to read. But that doesn’t change how the words seem to burn on her skin. No one likes spoilers after all.  So when she changes before PE it’s in half the time it takes the other girls and she covers it up with make-up during the summer. And then kids start to get nosy and what should be an intimate secret is tossed around carelessly, and she starts teaching herself the art of lying.

Regina’s the one who asks first. They’re 12 and it’s a sleepover and she’s sprawled across her bed, her chin resting on her closed fist, her eyes glinting dangerously in the half-light.

“Okay Janis. Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” she chooses. She’s not scared of dares, but she’s smart enough to know better than to take a dare from her.

“Okay,” she says, her lips curling into a sly smirk, one that makes Janis bite on the inside of her cheek and wish she could take it back. Sometimes she forgets how slippery Regina can be, especially on days like today when she’s been nothing but bouncy and fun and kind. She forgot that this side to her best friend even existed, the side that takes jokes too far and tries to pry Janis open like she’s a treasure chest. All that comes back to her when she tosses her perfect hair over her shoulder and raises her eyebrow, and she’s reminded that sometimes she doesn’t actually like hanging out with Regina.

She’s also reminded that she hates Truth or Dare.

“What does your soulmate tattoo say?”

“That’s private,” Janis reminds her, hugging the pillow tighter against her chest. “You’re only meant to tell your soulmate.”

“I know,” she scoffs, rolling off the bed and shuffling towards Janis. “But everyone tells people. And if you can’t tell me, your best friend, who can you tell?” Her tone is like the satin sheets on her bed, soft and comforting and familiar that Janis almost falls for it and tells her. Besides, Regina doesn’t even read Harry Potter, right? So it’s not like she would care… But other people might. And Regina might tell other people. Or Gretchen. Or Karen. Most likely Karen. And Karen could tell who-knows-who, who could tell who-knows-who, and then before she knows it she’s ruined Harry Potter for her entire grade. And then anything could happen to her. Taylor Wedell got her head shoved in a toilet for spoiling the end of Gossip Girl. And Janis really likes her head.

“I’m not telling, Regina,” she says, shrugging. “I’m sorry. That’s private.”

But there’s no word Regina George hates more than ‘no’. Her eyes narrow and her face falls into a pout even as she shrugs it off, telling Janis that she’s making a big deal out of nothing and if she won’t tell her that’s her problem. Janis tries to make it up to her, saying that she can ask anything else, but Regina won’t listen, deciding she wants to braid Karen’s hair instead.

They spend the rest of the night in a prickly silence and it takes a week before Regina returns to normal after that.

Damian is her next friend and he’s far better company than Regina is. He shows her his tattoo of his own volition, proudly extending his arm so she can see the words ‘can you do that again?’ written there in a rushed scribble. He confesses that he’s compared it with every other boy’s notes in their year, trying to see if he’s already met his other half and just forgot.

“I don’t think you can do that,” she tells him as they walk home from school one day, aged fourteen. “My mom said that when my dad first spoke to her it changed everything else. Like the minute she heard those words, nothing else mattered. She described it as some flower opening up in her chest.” She rolls her eyes a little, unsure if she’s inclined to believe all that. “It was really poetic.”

“Sounds beautiful,” he remarks, kicking up a pile of leaves. “Is that why you won’t tell me yours?”

“Sort of,” she sighs. “Hey, do you like Harry Potter?”

“I guess,” he replies. “I mean I’m more of a fan of the lore than of the books itself, what’s your house, I’m a Hufflepuff-”

It’s months later when they watch the sixth movie for the first time. The two of them on the sofa in Damian’s basement, Janis half-paying attention, half-working on a drawing. Damian is on the edge of the couch, his eyes wide and his hand slapping Janis’ leg every ten minutes. Despite telling herself she doesn’t care, she does, but it isn’t in the way Damian thinks she does. Her heart hammers against her ribs through the whole movie and nearly stops in every scene Dumbledore is in as she wonders if this is it, the moment she’s had carved into her skin her whole life.

She lets out a loud, relieved “finally!” when he eventually up and dies, prompting Damian to turn to her with his mouth open and his eyebrows shot up to the ceiling, a silent ‘Janis, what the fuck’ on his face.

And it’s then she tells him, tells him about the words on her chest and the secret she’s kept and how someone she’s never met ruined one of the biggest franchises in pop culture for her.

Damian laughs so hard his cat has to run over and check he’s not dead.

                                                                                                    *****

Janis sits on her desk in the art room, studying her piece from every new angle she can find. Not many people are in, given that it’s only the second week of junior year, which gives her a space to work on her own. Thanks to her spending the better part of her freshman and sophomore lunch periods in here, the art teacher gives her free range over the place and leaves for her cigarette breaks when she comes in, telling her not to touch anything and help herself to the cookies in her drawer but not to tell anyone else. And with just two seniors in and devoted to their work, she sits on the desk, her foot on the chair and a paintbrush between her fingers, trying to find the right colour.

“Good morning starshine!” Damian sings, earning him glares from the seniors. “Ooft, tough crowd.”

“They’re trying to focus,” she tells him, handing him a cookie. Sure Miss Peters said not to give the cookies to anyone, but Damian’s not anyone.

“My apologies to them,” he says in a low voice, leaning against the table and taking in her newest piece, a mermaid with flowing black hair and delicate purple eyes, the little fangs on her mouth the only allusion to the danger she holds. “That’s cool.”

“You think?” she replies, pride thumping in her chest.

“I know,” he says firmly, a smile on his face and the kind of wholesome honesty that only moms, grandmas and Damian Hubbard know how. “Did you hear the tea?”

“What?” She avoids school gossip like the plague, knowing all too well how it feels to be on the receiving end, but if Damian is telling her it’s either important, completely harmless or hilarious.

“There’s a new girl in our grade,” he tells her. So it’s the first one. “The student activities committee was telling me. Apparently she moved here from…. Kenyaaaa…” He drags the ‘a’ out for as long as his mighty lungs will allow, wiggling his eyebrows for dramatic effect.

“That’s neat,” she remarks, secretly getting a kick of Damian’s wounded puppy ‘why aren’t you appreciating my dramatics’ face. It’s a little more than neat, new kids aren’t really common in North Shore, especially ones from Kenya. “What’s her name?”

“Katie Heron, apparently,” he says. He opens his mouth to say more but he’s cut short by the bell ringing, ending their free period. With a sigh, Janis places her picture back in her folder and tucks it under her arm. Damian skips along beside her, filling her in on the whispers of the drama department about the upcoming musical and telling her he’s secured a room for their LGBTQ+ club movie night on Friday. She chats along, suggesting some more movies to add to their list and agrees what snacks to bring and asks him to get a list of dietary requirements from everyone. The normal kind of stuff that she deals with on normal school days.

But in the very very back of her mind, the name ‘Katie Heron’ sticks, and she’s not entirely sure why.

As fate would have it, she sees the new girl at lunch. It’s pure chance, she just happens to look up at the right moment in the right direction and sees an unfamiliar face in the cafeteria. And quite frankly, she’s pretty. She’s tiny, impossibly tiny, as in a kind of tiny that should probably not be legal, with long, caramel-coloured hair, braided at the top and the rest falling past her shoulders. She’s not too far away from her and she can see the wide smile on her face, innocent and excited, dimples in her rosy cheeks, and while she can’t see what colour her eyes are, she can see them lighting up as she looks around the cafeteria. She stands out, even in her cargo shorts and plaid shirt. Like the rest of the cafeteria-including Janis- was drawn in pencil but she was drawn in pen.

There’s something in her gut, something pushing her to go say hi, maybe invite her to sit with them even though that wouldn’t be normal for her. Damian’s the one who does that anyway and she’s just the arm candy. There’s no reason she should single this girl out other than the fact that she’s new. And she looks a little lonely, wandering around tables, her neck craning for an empty seat. Maybe Damian can do the talking and she can just smile.

Janis very nearly does approach her. She pushes herself up and makes to head in her direction. But one thing, one crucial thing, stops her.

Regina. Regina slides up to the new girl with a beaming smile and a no-doubt sweet, breathy voice, touching new girl-Katie’s-shoulder and tugging on her arm, asking her to come have lunch when them at their table, all the way on the other side of the cafeteria. She happily agrees and Regina links arms with her and escorts her away from the art freaks and towards Plastic Land, where Regina’s word is the word of God. She can tell her anything and New Girl will believe her.

Janis slumps back down, a cold, heavy weight in her stomach. She scoffs at herself and shakes her head, no clue why she’s so upset, since she doesn’t even know her. Damian’s eyes meet hers and he pats her shoulder sympathetically, a ‘maybe next time’ said softly to her. But when she spies her at the Plastic’s table amongst the pink and gold, she wonders with a heavy heart if there will be a next time.  

She crosses paths with the new girl three times in the following week. During that week she learns that her name is Cady with a C, a D and a Y, not Katie. She also learns that she’s taking AP calculus, she really likes math and that she used to live with animals. She also works out that she’s in her French class but was sick that day, and that the empty seat captured her attention more than anything their teacher said did.

She’s also learning that she might be becoming a stalker.

“So are you going to talk to her?” Damian asks her during gym.

“Why would I?” she replies, slowing down her pace once she’s out of the coach’s vision.

“Because you like her,” she replies, drawing out the ‘like’ for as long as his lungs will allow, as though the longer he says it the more Janis likes her.

“I don’t even know her,” she reminds him. “You probably know her better than I do.”

“Yes, and I know you better than you know you. So I know you like her.” She rolls her eyes, unable to find it in her to correct him. It’s not untrue. “I also watched you obsessively stalk her Instagram and Facebook accounts for a solid thirty minutes so...”

“Oh stop,” she scoffs, laughter in her voice. “You didn’t stop me so that’s 90% on you.”

“Oh so I have to steer you straight?”

“Well that would be an accomplishment,” she grins. “Considering.”

“Hubbard, Sarkisian!” the coach barks at them from the middle of the field. “Pick up the pace and stop the chatting or it’s two more laps!”

They speed ahead and lower their voices, privately discussing what they think of the coach and his new shorts and what they’d like to do to his head with those dodgeballs.

                                                                                               *****

By Friday, Janis has almost forgotten about her crush-that’s-not-a-crush on Cady. Well, she’s not forgotten it but she’s put it to the side. Well, not to the side, but it’s away for now. Well, not away but… Cady wasn’t the first thing on her mind when she woke up, so she’s calling it progress.

At least the LGBT+ movie night provides a welcome distraction. They only have the hall for the next few hours, just enough time for Pride and Love, Simon and finishing off with a few episodes of One Day At A Time, which is a cheat, since they’re not movies, but they’re the only thing short enough to fill the remaining time.

Janis takes charge of snacks while Sonja and Sophie argue with the IT guy over how to use the projector, Sophie’s hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder, pulling her down when she gets too heated. Janis tries not to wonder if her girlfriend will do that for her one day. She’s trying to banish all thoughts of romance entirely, but Sonja is leaning on Sophie and holding her hand as they look at the computer together and it makes Janis’ chest ache and images of a certain brunette creep into her mind.

The more she tries not to think about Cady, the more she does, so much so that when the doors open and Cady jumps in with the Mathletes and their matching jackets, Janis is half-sure she’s imagining it.

And then she panics.

“Holy crap,” she whispers, slapping Damian’s shoulder again and again until he acknowledges her. “Damian, Damian, Damian!” There’s a knot in her stomach and a familiar feeling of being pulled towards her, like there’s an invisible rope around her waist.

“I see her!” he replies, grabbing her hand both to comfort her and stop her from slapping him again. His hands come around her shoulders, straightening her back and holding her up as Cady wanders over in their direction. Her eyes happen to find them and her face breaks into a smile, and for an insane moment, Janis thinks she’s smiling at her. Which would be ridiculous because they’ve never said one word to each other. The only reason she might smile at her is if she was being extra-friendly or if she was her-

No, she tells herself sternly. Not the S word.

“Oh, Janis, Damian!” Kevin hollers, jumping down the hall to them with the rest of his crew. Janis wipes her hand on her shorts, giving what she hopes is a normal smile. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey Kev,” Damian replies, offering a high-five.

“You guys met my girl Cady?” he asks, gesturing to her. Met is a funny word in this scenario. I wish is the response Janis thinks but doesn’t say out loud.

“We haven’t had the pleasure,” Damian replies, eyeing Janis and grinning. “Hubbard comma Damian. This is my amusing sidekick, Sarkisian comma Janis.” His introduction makes Cady laugh and it sounds like a bell ringing or part of a melody being played.

“We’re introducing her to American pop culture,” Marwan adds just as Cady is opening her mouth to speak. She closes it, a pleasant expression on her face but her hand is clenched into a tight fist. “But we need a break from Harry Potter. That’s too dark. We watched Half-Blood Prince and oof” He makes a cutting-your-head-off gesture with his hand, his features twisted into over-dramatic "yikes". Cady nods along enthusiastically and opens her mouth, a sense of urgency in her face, as though one might cut her off, and Janis is almost excited to hear her. Holy crap, is this having it bad?

“I just can’t believe Dumbledore died!” she exclaims. "I mean who does that?"

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

It doesn’t happen the way Janis’ mom described it. Rather than a flower blooming in her chest it’s a truck hitting her at full speed and sending her flying, her mind turning to static at those words and the pieces don’t even have time to connect in her brain before she yells-

“It’s you! You’re the one!” And at that, Cady’s mouth falls open and her eyes bulge as her hand flies to her forearm. For years, this girl has occupied Janis’ mind, and now she’s face to face with her, and in her most dire moment, rational thought has abandoned her. “You ruined Harry Potter for me!”

“Well… that’s not how I thought this was going to go down,” she mumbles, her pale cheeks turning pink.

As she comes back to herself, Janis looks around her, finding a face looking at her everywhere she turns. Some are amused, some shocked, some annoyed, some confused. But they surround her and the room starts closing in on her, making her feel like caged animal in a zoo, a spectacle for people to discuss over lunch. It’s a familiar feeling all right.

Her eyes meet Cady’s, terrified brown meeting bewildered blue and alongside the heavy cloud of embarrassment and the jagged anxiety, she feels a stab of guilt for doing this to her and it all threatens to crush her. So she does what feel most normal for her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and she finds herself running towards the doors and out into the hallway.

“Janis, wait!” Cady calls after her, her sneakers squeaking on the polished floors. She catches up to where Janis is standing, taking in deep breaths and pulling herself back together. Cady hovers in front of her, unsure of what to do, which isn’t what Janis expected. Shouldn’t soulmates just know?

“Sorry,” she repeats, straightening up. “Sorry I shouldn’t have flipped out like that.”

“S’okay,” she replies with a shrug, tapping her toe against the floor. She gives her an adorably sheepish look, one that makes Janis want to hold her tight forever. “Sorry I ruined Harry Potter for you.”

“Oh it’s fine,” she scoffs. “Seriously. Percy Jackson’s the superior children’s series. I wasn’t losing sleep over it.”

“I’ll make a note to read those,” she says softly, stepping a little closer to her. When she looks up at her, Janis feels it. The feeling her mom told her about. The flower opens in her chest and her worries begin to fade at the edges. Right now is the moment she begins hoping and daring to be brave, which is new for her. But there’s something, always something, or rather someone that looms over her and threatens it, even when she’s not physically here. She got her claws into Cady first and Janis can’t not be freaked out by that.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard,” she begins.

“I’ve not heard anything,” is what Cady replies in a firm voice. “Not anything worth repeating.”

“You haven’t?” Janis asks. The urge to pick at her nails rises in her. “Because… I know people-”

“Regina?” she says. She stuffs her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, her expression half-smile, half-grimace. “Yeah. She told me stuff. But…”

“But?” That makes her laugh again, and even though it’s soft and more of a breath, it’s beautiful to her.

“But you know… I’m not going to trust someone who uses slurs that freely,” she says, quirking an eyebrow. “Or who keeps a burn book about other people.” It takes a lot of self-control not for Janis not to hug her right now. Her anxiety dissolves almost entirely, replaced by feelings that are new and exciting and safe, above everything else. She feels safe with her. Maybe that’s what a soulmate means. Having someone be your safety net.

“You know…” she begins, sneaking a glance back inside the gym, where the movie has already started playing. “These things are great, but they seem to have it under control. Maybe you and I could go to the diner down the street? Get some milkshakes? Hang out? Talk a little?”

“I’d love that,” Cady replies, her cheeks pink and her eyes sparkling. She bites her lip and after a moment’s hesitation, holds out her hand. Her face is expectant but her fingers wiggle nervously. Her fingernails are painted green and on her wrist is a braided leather bracelet. Her hand looks soft and tiny and perfectly suited to hers, just like Cady herself, she supposes.

After more than a moment’s hesitation, Janis takes it, and nothing before has ever felt so right.

#cadnis #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #paint by numbers #mean girls ff #mean girls broadway #cadnis ff #should i do one from cady's pov? yes? no? no one cares áine?

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #330

“and i don't want ya  /  and i don't need ya  /  don't bother to resist, or i'll beat ya  /  it's not your fault that you're always wrong  /  the weak ones are there to justify the strong”

If you have a job, do you like it? I'm unemployed. Do you like any kinds of fruit? Well of course. Are you waiting for something right now? Covid and this headache to fuck off, May for my tattoo, to be paid to take some pictures again... What is your favorite kind of animal? Kind, not the actual animal itself? In that case, social species, usually mammals. What kind of Dippin' Dots do you like? Holy shit, I haven't had that in like a damn decade or something. I don't know, I barely remember the taste. Who is the most badass woman that you can think of? My mom. My mother is a fucking warrior. Do you have a Pinterest account? Yeah. I get a lot of photography ideas from there, as well as base pictures to make Mark icons, haha. If you were to write a book, what would it be about? The stories I and my friends have weaved in RP. Have you ever seen the television show The Munsters? AHHHHH YES!!!!! Mom loves that show, so I used to watch it with her growing up. Have you ever written one of those 'Roses are red...' valentines? I don't think so. Would you/have you spent more than $200 on any one person for a holiday? I haven't, but I would for certain people. Do you have a favorite Robin Williams movie? Probably Night at the Museum. Thoughts on Slender Man? Have you even heard of him? I think it's a cool creepypasta; he does look pretty unnerving with his height and especially lack of a face. The movie was good too, btw. Do you know what the Tardis is? I think almost everyone does in this generation, haha. Doctor Who ain't no joke to a whole lot of people. Are there any children's shows that you'd watch today if they were on? Sure, like Pokemon or Avatar: The Last Airbender, among others. I wouldn't at all be opposed to watching The Lion Guard, either. I actually want to, with my whole TLK love. I'm not embarrassed to watch "kids" shows or movies at all. What would you call yourself the King or Queen of? Having not an ounce of knowledge on how to love things in moderation/avoid total obsession with things, haha. If I paid for you to take karate lessons, would you? No, especially not now with my legs. Do you read more fiction or non-fiction? Almost solely fiction. What modern technology are you especially grateful for? Laptops, ig. Do you have a favorite science topic? Genetics. Very fascinating stuff. Have you ever read any Sherlock Holmes stories? No. What is the saddest movie that you've ever seen? Either Johnny Got His Gun or Boy in the Striped Pajamas. What's your most popular post? On what? If Facebook, I don't really know. Possibly my "coming out" one or a lovey-dovey essay when Sara and I were together. On Tumblr, it's definitely the gif I made of Mark and Chica (his dog) with I think over 10k notes. Manga or anime? Anime. I don't read manga, though I've been tempted with Deadman Wonderland since the show only had one season and ends on a ginormous cliffhanger, but there's more story to be had. A card game that you're good at? None, really. A popular book you haven't read yet? To Kill a Mockingbird. I feel like every school student has read it at some point. Favorite Mean Girls quote? I don't know any. It's a fine movie, but I've never understood the hype. Name your top 3 albums from your favorite band/artist. Black Rain, Ozzmosis, and... then I can't choose. I love so, so many very dearly. Name your top 5 music videos. I don't really watch music videos, so I definitely can't name five. My #1 favorite is probably "Wrong Side of Heaven" by Five Finger Death Punch; I absolutely cannot watch it without crying. What are you most passionate about? How did this passion develop? Animals. I was born simply adoring animals and have always wanted to protect them and their environment. Do you like monkeys? Do you believe in evolution? Yes and yes. We've literally watched it in action. What embarrasses you the most in front of other people? Discussing RP if you're not involved in it. I'm terrified of people thinking I'm weird. Have you considered running for president? Absolutely not. Which famous person would you like to be BFFs with? I'd say Mark, but I'd be way too interested in dating him instead of being just friends, haha... So with that said, maybe Bindi Irwin? Would you ever go skinny dipping with the last person who commented you? Lyndsey would be that person, so no. She's a great friend of mine, but realistically I'd probably only ever - if ever - do that with the company of my s/o. Are you still friends with the last person who broke your trust? No. How long did your last relationship last? Around two years. Have you ever been banned from anywhere? Online, yes, as a little kid on the Animal Planet forum, haha... Has anyone kissed you when you weren't expecting it? Yeah, Juan. Did you like it? It was a sweet moment, but I didn't want it. Does your dad smoke? Like a chimney. Is your mom over 50? Yeah. Are you currently listening to anything? Yeah, kinda hooked on "The Horrible People" by Manson. I've found a lot of great music lately. Would you ever consider getting breast implants? No, but once (if...) I lose all the weight I want, it's going to be a moderate priority to get a breast lift. I've hated my body way too fucking long and am dying to be satisfied with it again, and with how much weight I need to lose, I would essentially have grandma tits. :x Do you know anyone who is bisexual? Me, haha. Among some friends. Who would you tell, or who did you tell when you lost your virginity? That's not something I'd just go to tell someone afterwards for no reason... I'd only ever mention having lost my virginity if I was actually asked or if it was relevant to a conversation. Is there something you have been trying to learn lately? I'm really trying to practice opposite action and behavioral activation, among other things I've learned in group therapy. When you think about your future career, do you envision yourself becoming the head honcho or CEO? If not, why not? Well, I want to be my own boss as a freelance photographer. In any other job, I definitely wouldn't want that. Too much responsibility and leadership skills. Can you think of a time when you seriously misjudged a music artist based on their name? I don't think so? Have you ever kissed someone that you didn’t really want to kiss (not assault, just indifference)? Why did you go along with it and how did you feel after? Yes, Tyler. I felt like I was "supposed to." I felt really uncomfortable afterwards. If you have to wake up early for something, what time is just TOO early for you to be there and be presentable and sentient? Have you ever had to be somewhere that early? Probably like, 5:00. No. Have the majority of your romantic relationships started with a physical attraction or a deeper connection? Always an emotional connection. Did you ever write a fan letter to a celebrity? How about submit something to a magazine? No to both. What hair color is the most attractive on the opposite sex? Of natural colors, black, but I like unnaturally dyed hair most. Where do you like to go to when you are stressed? On a carride, so long as I'm controlling the music nice and loud and not talking. Where do you go to get your hair cut/dyed? To a family friend's little salon/small business. Why do you want the career that you want? Because I adore art and think it's pretty darn magical that you can freeze a moment forever to not just remember in your head, but actually see. Have you ever watched iCarly? Yeah, I enjoyed it when I was younger. What was your favorite class during your sophomore year of high school? Art. Do you wear bandanas in your hair? No. Have you ever been on a blind date? No, not interested. How many living grandparents do you still have? None. Have you ever worked in an office? No. Who does the grocery shopping in your house? Mom. Have you ever stayed in a hotel without your parents or older relatives? No. Did you have an Easy-Bake oven when you were little? Sure did. Have you ever seen a donkey? Yeah. Have you ever made out in a hot tub? Pretty sure no. Do you always flush the toilet after you use it? Yes. What were the last words you said to your dad? Probably "bye, love you." Have you cuddled with someone you weren’t dating? Nah. Who has the ability to hurt you the most emotionally? JASON. Are you a really understanding person? Yeah, very. Are you the type of person that enjoys getting hugs? Yes. When’s the last time you wore a wig? For a witch costume many years ago. Why were you last hospitalized? Suicide attempt. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without food? At least 12 hours, but I think I almost went a day once back when recovery started and my appetite was non-existent. What was the last name of your third grade teacher? Mrs. Britt. How was the last chicken you ate cooked? They were chicken tenders. What is your favorite kind of chip? Hot crunchy Cheetos. What grade did you have your first boyfriend? 7th. Have you ever been told that you’ve lost weight? Yeah, back when I actually WAS losing loads of weight. >> Do you have the same political views as your parents? Some things, but definitely not all. Does anyone call you babe/baby? No. Have you ever made a significant other cry? Sadly. If you could make your lips bigger, would you? Maybe just a teeeeny bit. Are you one to sneak food into movie theaters? Yep. Fuck them prices. Are you prone to illness? Definitely not. What races do you usually date? History says Caucasian, but I have no actual preference. I'll date any race. What’s your cup size? C. Ever flirted with a teacher? Yikes, no thanks. Who was the main cook of your Thanksgiving meal last year? My older sister made the most stuff. Have you ever been dumped really harshly? Well, considering it literally traumatized me... Do you have any ex’s you can’t stand anymore? No. Are you more of a phone or a computer person? Computer, definitely. When was the last time you made a sandwich? What did you put on it? Yesterday for lunch. Ham, American cheese, and mustard. Have you ever made friends with someone that you didn’t expect to get along with? Yeah. Do you own any accessories with your name on? No. What brand of eyeliner do you use? I pay no attention to this. Have you ever been sexually harassed? No. Have you ever sent a naughty text message? Suggestive ones, yes. How long have you had your pets? Roman, around two years. Venus, around three or four years. Who was the last person to tell you that they love you, other than family? Sara. Has one of your friends ever tried to hook you up with someone? Colleen tried obnoxiously hard to push Girt and me together. We all went out to eat pizza once just as friends hanging out, and this bitch prefaced an uncomfortable and nosy question to him with an even more uncomfortable "because I'm trying to get you in her pants...", and that, my friends, was the closest occasion I've ever come to slapping someone right across the face. I looked at her in absolute disgust, and Girt was clearly thinking "what the actual fuck" as well. I do not miss her feral mouth. Are you good at staring contests? No. Eye contact is very difficult for me to maintain. Do you like peanut butter? I love peanut butter. When was the last time you had to present something to your class? In this mandatory but entirely pointless entry class at my last college, we all had to do like this PowerPoint introducing ourselves. I hated it. Who was the last person that told you they missed you? I think my friend Chelsea. What store is your favorite shirt from? It's not a real store, but rather an online brand: Cloak. Mark is one of the owners/creators so I obviously support them intensely. Have you ever fell off your bed while you were sleeping? No, thankfully. Do you have something you’re supposed to tell someone, but you haven’t yet? No. What type of food do you never really eat? Vegetables, oops. Have you ever cut someone else’s hair? No. Do you like going to weddings? Not really, if I'm being honest. I'm only interested in photographing weddings for the only the couple pictures and pay, really. I'm not big on formal events. What’s your favorite flavor squash? I don’t like squash. Do you or anyone in your house have a severe allergy? No. Who was the last guest in your house and what were they staying for? Our landlord/family friend, just to hang out for a little bit and chat with Mom. What fad were you actually into? Hm. What was the last spontaneous thing you did? I'm not a very spontaneous person, so I really don't know.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''the beautiful people'' by marilyn manson

[birdsandspades]

I Was Never Good at Waiting (Sugawara X Reader) Chapter 6

- It was your last year in highschool, everything had been going smoothly until you got assigned the new teacher. Sugawara Koushi was handsome, maybe too handsome for his own good. Be he wasn't flirting with you right, teachers shouldn't do that....I guess we will see where this year goes.

Word Count - 5,459

----

It had been a few weeks since you last spoke to Sugawara. You weren’t really sure what words to say to him at this point. Sure you were still mad, he was after all a huge ass for talking to you the way he did. But you couldn’t help but feel bad for your actions as well. For all you knew, the sweet glances, the soft smiles, the entrancing conversations. Well maybe you had exaggerated his intentions a little. Maybe he was just uncomfortable, stuck in a situation he didn’t know how to escape. But god dammit, you were not going to ask him for help with your math homework. 

Your grade had tanked in the last few weeks. You did the work, put in all the motions. But your brain just wasn’t soaking up the sweet, sweet academic knowledge. This was the reason Oikawa was stationed at your dining room table, looking through your math book just as confused as you had moments before. 

You had tried to call Iwaizumi for the extra help instead, but he was on a romantic getaway with his significant other. “Call Tooru-sensei F/N, you know he would come if you asked.” Iwaizumi was clearly not interested in helping you, even if he was home you would have been out of luck.

“But you were the one who tutored him in school Hajime. Do you really think he's gonna be any help to me?” You groaned in response.

He knew you had a point. The boy’s brain only operated on three levels, volleyball, girls, and a very small sliver, an absolutely miniscule piece, was dedicated to harassing you.“Figure it out F/N, I'll see you at the spring tournament ok?” Iwaizumi tried his best to understand your situation, but that didn’t mean he wanted to actively continue this conversation. 

“Ok Hajime.” Your voice was soft, not wanting to press the matter further. You listened as the line died, your only hope fading out with it.

Now that you thought about it, you might feel worse for Oikawa at the moment. He was clearly about to blow a gasket trying to figure out where the X went in your problem. “This one has a typo, let's skip ahead.” 

You rolled your eyes as he turned to the next page of your book. “Senpai, you’ve said that about the last five problems.”You were getting annoyed now. He had skipped over almost every problem you attempted so far. These were only the warmup questions, what would happen when he got to the actual work?

He looked up, frowning at your displeased tone.“Well maybe they should have checked over the book better.” He shrugged slightly, lowering his shoulders in defeat. 

This man was no help. 

“Snacks incoming!” Your mom smiled, leaning over the table to set down the plate in her hand.

She had come home for the weekend with your grandfather to check in on you. They would make the trip maybe once a month just to make sure you were well stocked on food and the bills were getting paid. She had been pleasantly surprised to find Oikawa with you when she returned home from shopping. Giddy to dot on the boy while she had the chance.

She loved him, and always had. She thought of you two as inseparable, even now when his job took him across the ocean. Wherever you went, he was never hard to find. Whether it be phone calls, strange gifts that reminded him of you, or even visiting whenever he had the free time. She knew he would always be near. That was one reason she agreed to let you stay home while she was in Tokyo. Even when she was gone, you were safe with him. He would do anything for you, that was perfectly clear. 

“Tooru don’t work so hard honey.” She cooed, rubbing small circles into his back. 

 “Mom, what about me? It's my homework.” You whined at the lack of attention, pulling the book from Oikawa’s hands.

Wiggling a finger your way she shook her head. “You need to work harder! You're failing the class, not him.” She frowned your way as you sank into your chair.

You felt defeated. Between your useless cousin, the single brain cell Oikawa had, and your  grumpy mother it was inevitable. You slapped your hands together, bowing your head in prayer. “I know we don’t talk often, but please don’t make me have to ask Sugawara-sensei for help on Monday. Kill me instead, anything but talking to him.”

“F/N, don’t start praying! I’ll figure it out! I’m sure I can find the X...” He pulled the book from your hands, frantically flipping through the pages.

The weekend came to an end, and you were in no better shape for your class. Your mother and grandfather had left Sunday night to return to Tokyo, the trip home ending far too soon.  

“F/N, make sure you water the garden once a day ok, and don’t stay up all night playing video games. That animal island game can wait, Pudge, that's his name right? Well he can wait for your homework to be done, and please stop eating spicy ramen for every meal. Your tummy is gonna hurt.” She rambled on as she checked that all the bags were lined up at the train station stop. She looked back up at you, letting out an exaggerated sigh. She grabbed the sides of your open coat, pulling it together roughly as she zipped it up to your chin. “And wear your coat properly, you’ll catch cold like that!”

The train rumbled into the station, easing to a stop at the yellow lines in front of you and your family. The doors slid open, a small rush of passengers exiting as they continued on their ways.

“Ok mom, bye love you!” You hugged her tightly before spinning her around. You gave her a light push as she grabbed her bags, walking her to the open doors. You turned around, chuckling at your amused grandfather. You walked over to him, resting into his outstretched arms. You looked up, nose brushing his coat as you smiled. “Please don’t ever change grandpa, you're the only normal member of our family.” 

He smiled back down at you, giving you a reassuring squeeze.“I love you too peaches, everythings gonna turn out just fine, I promise.” He gave you a wink, his hand dipping into your coat pocket. “Don’t waste it!” He teased, as leaned over to pick up his bag. 

You watched as he joined your mother on the train, waving at you as he sat down. The train doors closed, pulling away from the station as it continued on to Tokyo. You reached into your pocket, pulling out a folded 2,000 yen note. You laughed as you put it back. “How does grandpa always know what to say, truly a man of infinite wisdom.” You waved the train off as it disappeared down the tracks.

----

You had snoozed your alarm one too many times Monday morning, finally realizing your mistake twenty minutes before your first train left the station. You would have loved to say you were up all night doing something fun, maybe beating Doom for the third time this month, or catching up on your manga. But you had woken up at the table in your room, drool sticking the homework you had used as a pillow to your face.

You were rushing to get ready, throwing on your uniform as you frantically stuffed your books into your bag. Before long you were out of time, tripping down the stairs as you pulled up your sock. You had no time for lunch, you didn’t even have time to fix your bedhead. You ran out the front door, relying on the auto lock as you sped towards the main road. You attempted to tie your hair up as you rounded the corner to the crosswalk, the red hand illuminated from the other side of the road. You looked at the pole, both hands occupied in your mess of hair. You lifted your leg, kicking the button a few times as you impatiently waited for your turn to cross.  Once it did you bolted across the street, shouting apologies as you pushed your way down the stairs and toward your approaching train. You barely squeezed past the closing doors, still attempting to catch your breath as the train pulled away from the station.

Collapsing into your seat you pulled out your bag to check that you had everything for your day. Homework (still kinda wet), text books, lunch (if you could call a bag of chips lunch), practice gear. Where was your practice gear? You attempted to recall your morning, thinking back to the last time you had everything in your sight.  

“So I woke up, got dressed, put on my sweater backwards, put my things on the table, made lunch, and then I….left it on the fucking table.” The train pulled into it's first stop, the doors opening for the waiting passengers. You stood up, pushing your way past the crowd as you ran for the next train home. This just wasn’t your day.

----

You couldn’t believe how late you were when you finally made it to the school. “It’s 9:30, i’m screwed.” You mouthed, taking your tardy slip from the office attendant. You rushed up the school stairs, trying to make it to your classroom as fast as possible. As if that would change the fact that you were an hour late to school. You ran a sweaty hand over your messy hair before pulling the classroom door open. You closed it quietly, turning around slowly to an empty classroom.

Sugawara sat with his feet propped up on the desk at the front of the room. His phone in his hands as he scrolled through emails. 

“Sensei, i’m sorry i’m late...” You mumbled, looking at the rows of empty desks. You made your way to the front of the room, setting the tardy slip on his desk.

“L/N-san, why aren't you on the bus? They are leaving for the field trip!” Sugawara’s eyes went wide as he looked up at you from his phone. He stood up from his seat, glancing between you and the piece of paper. 

“Field trip? Was the field trip to the science museum today?” Your face dropped as you realised just what day it was. Sure it was Monday, the first Monday of the month. The first Monday of the month when they take all the students to the 3M Sendai Science Museum.

“Maybe we can still get you on the last buses?” Sugawara wrapped a hand around your wrist, pulling you behind him as he ran down the hallway and out to the south gym. 

“How are they already all gone…” Sugawara knew the last bus had left at 9:00, but he had hoped to at least see some transportation left.

You looked at the empty lot, not a single bus in sight. What were you going to do now, they had shipped out the entire school for this field trip. 

“Is there any way we can get her to the museum, I could drive her?” Sugawara was now at the front office, nervously talking with the secretary. 

“I’m sorry, but she’s just going to have to spend the day in her classroom.” The woman gave you an apologetic look. She mouthed a few words to Sugawara, too quiet to make out before walking back to your desk.

Sugawara turned back to you, motioning for you to follow him back to the classroom as he walked past you.

 Once you got back to the classroom you made your way to your desk, silently sliding into your seat. You looked over to your teacher, shifting uncomfortably as your eyes met his.

“Well you can work on any extra work you have. If you have any questions, i'll be in my office.” He leaned back on his heels before turning to enter his office. The door clicked closed behind him, the only sound left being the ticking of the clock on the wall.

You nodded to yourself, excepting that again today was just not your fucking day.

You had finished most of your work by 11:00, but the day was far from over. You looked at your last assignment, the creased ends of the page sticking out of the end of your math book. You had saved it for last for no other reason then to not do it. But the day was moving by so slowly, and you were going to have to finish it eventually.

“I might as well ask, i’m not going to finish this by myself.” You pulled at the paper, sliding it out of the book inch by inch. You could see the mess of work etched into the white sheet, the ghosts of prior mistakes partially erased in the background. “Sensei, could you help me with this problem?” You squeaked out the question, holding your breath as you listened for movement behind the office door. “Maybe if he doesn’t hear me I can just give up and take a nap.” You weren’t quiet enough, the door opening as Sugawara made his way over to your desk.

Sugawara pulled a chair over from the adjustment desk, taking a seat next to you. He motioned for you to show him the question, looking down at the paper in front of you. You felt it was better for him to just see the whole paper at this point. You slid the work to him, watching as his face contorted in confusion. He picked up your pencil, marking spots as he attempted to work through whatever thought process you had had. 

“Oikawa tried to help me…” You added, hoping he wouldn’t think all the stupidity on the paper was you. 

Laying it back in front of you, he handed you back your pencil. “You're close, it's a simple mistake really.” He leaned over the desk, resting his elbow on the table and his head in his hand as he guided you through your missteps. 

You always loved how he would say that. “A simple mistake. ”Like it was easily fixable. It made your confidence skyrocket, that's probably why he was such a good teacher. You watched him work through a few, briefly stopping at each step to check back in with you. 

“Yeah, you got it, see I knew you could do it!” His brilliant smile made your stomach flutter. It was a fleeting slight, soon he had turned his attention back to the problems. 

“Thank you sensei.” You smiled to yourself, moving on to the next question on your sheet.

 After a few minutes Sugawara had deemed you on the right path, standing up to return to his office. He closed the door, leaving a small gap as he disappeared from view.

“And he’s gone…” You had liked the company, a pleasant change from the quiet classroom you had been sitting in for the past three hours. 

A few minutes later he emerged from his office, ,a stack of papers in hand as he walked over to his desk. Sitting down, he propped his feet up on the desk. He set a small pile of papers on his lap, pulling the cap off a red pen as he started to grade. He peaked up for a moment, giving you a quick smile before turning over the paper in his hand.

You watched him for a while, taken aback by his sudden change of mood. For weeks he had been cold and distant, avoid you like the plague. But here he was, choosing to sit in the same room, smiling at you. It was baby steps, but steps nonetheless. 

It had felt like you were a flower living under perpetual clouds, but the sun had started to return, and you were basking in it. 

“Sensei?” You called out, pulling nervously at your sleeves.

He looked up at you again, his eyebrow knitting together. 

“It was now of never, just fucking say it, get it over with and say it.” You straightened up in your seat, leaning towards the edge of your chair.“Sensei i’m sorry. What I said was uncalled for, I should have just told you I didn’t want to continue the tutoring lessons. I…my actions were uncalled for and I'm sorry if I put you in an awkward situation.” You looked down at your hands, fingers digging into the material of your skirt. You felt a hand on your head, gently patting your hair down. You tilted your head up slightly, blushing as you met Sugawara’s bright smile.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come off so harsh. You had a right to be uncomfortable talking to me about it.” His voice was soothing, his smile turning soft. His irises twitched, sadness washing over the brown hues as he pulled his hand away. 

“Could we maybe, start over. I really was grateful for you helping me.” You stood up, attempting to stand eye level with the person in front of you. 

Sugawara contemplated the question, uncertainty pulling at his lips. “I don’t know L/N-san, I’m pretty busy.” 

You frowned at his answer, he did have a life after all. Probably friends, pets, maybe even a girlfriend. Of course he would rather spend his time after school with them, not tutoring a student on a subject he didn’t even teach.

“But, if you can promise me you’ll show up. I can give you back your Mondays and Fridays.”He shrugged lightly, amused with your reaction.  

“Thank you so much Sensei, I-i’ll do anything to make up for it!” You bounced up and down on your heels, absolutely ecstatic.  

He cocked his eyebrow at the word anything, chuckling to himself. “Just make sure you make it to the Spring tournament.” He made his way back to his desk as you sat back down.

You had missed the sun.

The rest of the day came and went, the ticking of the clock no longer ringing in your empty ears.

You had finished your work right as the lunch bell rang, officially all out of schoolwork for the day. You and Sugawara ate lunch together in the classroom, taking the time to go over extra problems from your math book. 

“So, if you take away 47, add these totals together and...are you just eating a bag of chips for lunch?” He stared at you in horror as you pulled out the bag, his stomach hurting for you. 

“I um, didn’t have time to make a...yeah, this is all i'm eating. You're looking at me like my mom…” You shrank in your seat, pulling the bag closer. 

He shook his head at you before continuing the lesson. 

The rest of the day you spent in his office, looking over all his belongings as he typed away on his computer. 

“Hey, can you get out of my things. Don’t you have something to do?” He groaned, watching you pick through his book collection.

“Yeah, annoy you.” You rested your finger on a blue book, sliding it out of it's stop. You flipped through the pages, walking over to sit down on the couch.

“Comfy?” he laughed, watching as you rolled over. Your back now on the seat cushions as your head fell off the side of the sofa.

You let your feet rest on the windowsill, crossing your legs as your back sank into the couch. You looked up at him, tilting your head to see him peering down at you. “Yes, quite.” You giggled, laying your head back down.

Once school had officially ended he walked you to the front doors, waving a goodbye as he watched you walk down the courtyard and towards the school gates. The school buses wouldn't be returning for another two hours, but you had no real reason to stay past the normal school hours. Practice had been canceled for the day ,making your extra trip home useless. “But the day hadn’t gone to waste” ,you thought, smiling to yourself.

----

“Koushi, you're coming out. You’ve been so moppy for weeks. Get ready and i'll send you the address.” Daichi yelled into the phone, already at the bar. 

Sugawara ended the call with Daichi and sighed. He just wanted to spend his weekend relaxing, not at some dive bar. But his friends had been harassing him for weeks about not coming out. He was having a hard time coming up with excuses at this point.

 It was already Saturday, an entire week had flown by. You and him were civil again, but not completely the same. He wasn’t sure what to do. Should he leave things as they were, at least you were talking. Or should he press furth, see how close he could get to crossing the line with you. He just didn’t know, and being here tonight wasn’t going to help that.

Sugawara walked into the tiny dive bar, looking around for his friends in the crowd of people.  He found them at the bar, shoulders pressed against the other bar patrons as they attempted to wave down the bartender.Sugawara set a hand on each of their shoulders, turning them slightly to greet them. 

“You're here!” Daichi smiled, pulling his friend into a hug.

“We honestly didn’t expect you to come.” Asahi laughed, joining in the reunion.

“Well I wouldn’t have picked this place…” Sugawara looked around at the overly packed bar. “Why is it so busy, isn’t this place little dated for all these kids?” Sugawara looked around at the adolescents crowding the stage area, grimacing. He wasn’t much older, but he had never much liked his age group. 

“Some pop punk band is playing tonight, I guess they are big with the college students.” Asahi smiled, leaning against the bar to order. 

“So who’s the girl that has you so worked up?” Daichi questioned, shouting over the bar noise.

‘’No girl, just work.” Sugawara scowled at Daichi, a warning for him to stop prying. 

“I know that look Koushi, who’s the girl?” He had been friends with Sugawara for long enough to know the difference in his moods. Work made Sugawara grumpy, and girls made him moody. He knew the difference.

Sugawara sigh. “It doesn't matter, we're technically not allowed to be talking anyways.”

Asahi offered Sugawara a bottle, nudging him as he took it. “You got a crush on one of your coworkers?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Sugawara rolled his eyes, bringing the bottle to his lips.

Daichi laughed as the house lights went down, the crowd cheering.

“Hi, we're Systematic. We have some shirts and stuff for sale at the front if you're into that.”You turned to your drummer as he counted off for the song to start. “This is “Painkiller.”

He couldn’t fucking believe it, that was you, in a band, playing at a bar, right in front of him. 

“Hey, they actually sound pretty good. The singer is kinda cute!” Daichi laughed, pointing towards you.

“I'm being punished right? I did something awful in my past life and that's why all of this is happening.” Sugawara turned towards his friends, clasping his hands together. “Kill me please.”He pleaded to his friends, desperation in his eyes. 

“I can’t hear you!” Asahi furrowed his eyebrows as Koushi’s lips continued to move, raising a hand to his ear.

“You could hit me with your car, or mine, maybe throw me off a cliff.” It was useless, his friends were absorbed in the song. Completely ignoring his impending break down, too fascinated with the bubbly girl bouncing around onstage. 

As the first song came to an end, a stagehand met you with a guitar and a water bottle at the edge of the black curtains. You took the guitar from her, adjusting the strap as you walked back over to the microphone. “Today’s set is short, but we will be at Kyoritsu Kodo next month. Door price is set at 4,000, so show up and support Ryu’s bleach addiction.” You laughed as you threw a guitar pick at the bass player. 

He ducked out of the way, flipping you off. 

You counted off the next song and the band started, the upbeat tempo resonating through the crowd. 

He had to admit, you looked happy. The way you bounced up and down along with the drums made him smile. He would have maybe picked a warmer outfit if he were you, but the new look was refreshing to say the least. 

You had on a black sweater dress, one size too big as it hung off your shoulder. The purple of your thigh high socks peaked out from your equally high black boots. He could faintly make out a small bow on each side of the straps most likely connected to the garters further up your legs. He was trying to leave most of that to the imagination.

“This is all too much…” His face was growing hot as he watched you dance around the stage. Prompting the crowd to move along with you as you sang into the microphone.“At Least she dances like an old lady, that's helping a little.” 

You stretched out your arm, turning the microphone to the crowd. Beaming as they sang the chorus back to you.

He had seen that smile only a handful of times. He saw it when you were walking in the hallways with your friends, laughing as they argued. He saw it while setting yourself up for a serve. And he saw it now as you closed your eyes, basking in the crowd singing along. 

The final cords played as you opened your eyes again. ���So that was our rendition of “Sports”, next is a song I wrote on the train last week. It’s the byproduct of a broken heart and shoujo binge reading.” You chuckled awkwardly as your band tuned for the song. “So this is “All I Wanted.” You slid the microphone back into the stand, adjusting it to reach your lips.

Sugawara pushed forward, moving through the crowd in an attempt to see you better.

“Hey Koushi is moving up to the stage, lets go!” Daichi grabbed Asahi’s arm, pulling him along as he fought to keep up with Sugawara.

Sugawara stopped a few feet away from the stage, worried you would see him in the crowd if he got any closer. Sugawara was losing himself as he watched you, your hands gripping the microphone stand for support as you sang. The song was different from the rest, sadder, full of emotions. It was you, more so than the rest. He started to wonder who you had written it for, who had given you so many different feelings. Maybe Yoshiki, you two seemed close enough for that. 

The band cut off, leaving you alone. He saw the tears lining your lashes as you belted into the microphone, eyes closed tight. “All I wanted was you!” The band came back on your last note, the full sound reverberating around the full room. Sugawara bit his lip, fighting back the emotions that flooded his mind. He could see the hurt you held as you opened your eyes, the glistening of forming tears reflecting the stage lights as you looked into the crowd.

The song ended too soon, the house lights rising. You pulled at your sleeve, wiping at your eyes as you waved a goodbye. “Thanks for coming out, I'm Kiko and we are Systematic.” You smiled brightly, trying to take in the faces in the crowd one last time. Your rotation stopped on a familiar pair of hazel eyes, your own growing wide as you looked his way.

“Did she see me? She looked right at me…” Sugawara thought. He stood still, like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming truck. 

Your face dropped as the realization set in, turning abruptly to make your way off the stage.

 “She definitely saw me.” Sugawara groaned.

You were trying to pack up and leave when you heard shouting from the stage. You grabbed a handful of wires, stuffing them into a bag as you rushed to finish. 

“Hey, you can’t go backstage!” A stagehand yelled from behind the curtains.

“Koushi, what the hell are you doing? Get off the stage!” You couldn’t pick out the voice from the dissipating crowd, turning to see what exactly was going on.

You watched Sugawara push through the curtains, frantic eyes scanning for you. Panic setting in when you saw him push past a stage hand, his heated gaze on you.

You tried to crawl through the clothing rack behind you, the exit in sight as you pushed through the other side. A rough hand grabbed the collar of your dress, yanking you back out into the open.“Hi, sensei...what are you doing here?” You awkwardly laughed, looking for someone to save you.

“What am I doing here?” He laughed as he grabbed your forearm, pulling you towards the emergency exit. He pushed open the door, forcing you through before slamming it closed behind him.“Explain.” He glared down at you, blocking your escape.

You felt like you were under a search light, people staring at you as they walked by the fence. 

He waited for your response, looking over your face as you avoided his eye contract. “Can you please just tell me what is going on, and why you're at a dive bar at 11 p.m on a Saturday night.”His tone was softer now as he crossed his arms over his chest, his heated gaze easing into a warm stare. 

You might as well just get it all out. You took a deep breath, finally meeting his eyes.“So freshman year I really liked this band called Bunny, and I would go watch them at the university all the time. But the singer quit last year and they started up Systematic with the remaining members, but they needed a singer and I like singing. But I was only 17 at the time and they were looking for someone older. So I kind of auditioned as Kiko, a 21 year old college student. I don’t drink or do anything illegal...like super illegal. Because you know that me being in the bar is illegal because I'm only 18, but that's probably why you're mad. It’s just bars are the only shows we can get, and we're working hard to get a venue show and we have one next month. Sensei please don’t tell them how old I am. This band means the world to me.” Your shrank into your words, confidence dying.

He looked at you in shock at the paragraph you had just word vomited out. His attention turned away from you as the emergency door flung open. 

“Koushi what the fuck?” Daichi spat, looking between the two of you as Asahi followed behind him, apologizing to security on his way out the exit.

You looked at Sugawara, pleading him not to say anything. 

“This is the girl.” He sighed, it was this or exposing you. At least only one person suffered with this explanation. 

“This is THE girl?” Asahi gave his friend a confused look, pointing back and forth between the both of you.

“Wait, that sad song. Was that about him?” Daichi pointed to Sugawara, holding in a laugh. 

You shrugged slightly, nodding. Things honestly couldn't be going any worse.

“Ok, ok we're done here, shows over!” Sugawara grabbed Daichis arm, tugging him as he walked to the parking lot. He turned around, scowling.

“Th-thank you Suga...Koushi!” You stuttered out, giving him an awkward wave.

He mouthed a silent “We are talking about this tomorrow.” Turning back around to yell at his friends.

You were in some serious trouble, maybe it was time to make that cake.

---- 

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

----

*Hi, I just want make a disclaimer that I do not own any of the song's or art I used for this chapter or any others. Beach Bunny wrote Sports, and Painkiller. Paramore wrote All I Wanted ,and I wrote this mediocre fanfiction. I also want to say thank you for those of you reading this! It means alot that you would take the time to read it as the story unfolds! I hope your enjoying it, and if you have any thoughts, criticisms, or advice I would love to hear it! I am very much an amature at writing, but I want to give you the best chapters I can. So thank you again!*

#haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #haikyuu #sugawara x you #hq sugawara #sugawara x reader #sugawara scenario #sugawara kōshi #sugawara #sugawara x y/n #sugawara koushi #sugawara koshi #teacher sugawara #student x teacher #teacher sugawara koshi #guest starring #sawamura daichi #asahi azumane #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[coffeefairy]

Writer’s Month August 2020 - Day 2

Second day running of the challenge, go me!

Day 2, Quarantine

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender

Ship: Sheith

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Keith is stuck in the infirmary with the flu. Shiro visits to hear why Keith landed himself in detention - again - especially since he knows it somehow involved his name...

Excerpt: Keith had never liked Adam. He was too by-the-book, too boring, too uptight, but right now he’d pay to have him back in Shiro’s life. He made Shiro happy and that was all Keith had ever really wanted. And, he provided a buffer, a “no trespassing” sign on Shiro that helped with tempering his wish to reach out, to confess to everything that boiled under his breastbone. Now that buffer was gone and he’d have to watch Shiro, kindly, obliviously, reject him just for who he was, not for who he already had

Tags: Hurt/comfort, one-sided pre-Sheith from Keith’s side. Note Keith is underage but that Nothing Happens - because he’s underage.

Quarantine

Keith was entering his third day of having the flu and he was ready for death to take him. Not because of the flu, but because of the boredom. Confined to the Infirmary at the Garrison to not “spread those germs around, Mr Kogane”, he was utterly bored. There was a TV but it had two channels and they both showed re-runs. He couldn’t read because he kept distracting himself sniffling and his foggy brain wouldn’t let him study. The only thing that broke the tedium was mealtimes and the food was so bad he might starve before the boredom killed him. At least his quarantine counted towards his detention time.

The door at the end of the room swung open and Keith spotted Shiro. Or, Captain Shirogane as he was whenever other teachers or students were around. Shiro had been the one who got Keith to apply to the Garrison, who encouraged him to try out for the pilot program. The one who’d helped him fill in the scholarship applications and who had to date been the only person in Keith’s life who had never once let him down.

He was older than Keith by five years and at twenty-two he was the poster boy for what the Garrison wanted to showcase. Ace pilot, squeaky clean record, top grades. In addition he had the looks, the personality and the charisma for a stellar career in the Garrison Forces. If Keith hadn’t loved Shiro from the bottom of his heart, he probably would have hated him. But he knew Shiro cared for nothing but the flying, not really. It was the love of his life and Keith could wholeheartedly understand. Flying, to both of them, was freedom. 

Glad that he for once had a good excuse for the rosy cheeks he developed whenever Shiro was around, he allowed himself to soak in the picture he made. He’d finished for the day but his uniform was as pristine as it always was. He filled it out like he’d been made to wear it, all wide shoulders and narrow hips. It was a chest to waist ratio that sometimes made Keith’s stomach drop and leave a dark, echoing, slippery hollowness of need inside him. Just like his height, the sight of his hands and the soft hair at the nape of his neck did. 

“Hey, Keith.”

Not to mention his voice. 

Keith, who had had enough spare time - and then some - to prepare in case anyone (he’d only hoped Shiro would) visited, held up the legal pad he’d been doodling on. On the page he’d written in capitals:

Lost voice, can’t speak.

“Oh, so the conversation will be just as normal then,” Shiro joked. 

Keith sent him a rude gesture and the older man laughed. It made something soft and squidgy move in his chest to hear it. 

With a sigh, he sat down on the uncomfortable chair next to Keith’s bed, peered at him.

“You look good.” 

Keith knew what that meant but he bent his head over the pad anyway to let his hair shield his warm face. 

“You looked a lot paler last time I saw you.”

Keith frowned in askance. 

“I was here two days ago. You were asleep.”

Oh great. He’d probably slept with his mouth open, drooling on the pillow.

“You look younger when you’re asleep. Less angry.”

I’m not angry, Keith scribbled. 

Obediently, Shiro read it. 

“No?” He raised an eyebrow. “Then why did I hear about you getting into a fight with McClaine in Flight Sims?”

Keith had hoped talk of that particular scene would not make it to Shiro’s ears. 

McClaine’s an idiot, he wrote. Shiro leaned forward to read it and though he didn’t have his sense of smell, Keith could swear he sensed the scent of laundry powder, after shave and the hint of motor oil and gasoline that came from riding his hoverbike. A smell so familiar to him it haunted his dreams. Including the waking ones.

He could swear he saw a twitch to Shiro’s (unfairly attractive) lips before he leaned back.

“Keith, he’s on your team. You need to find a way to get along. Teamwork is the cornerstone of the Garrison philosophy.”

The Garrison philosphy could fuck itself for all Keith cared, but he didn’t like when Shiro’s voice took on that tone. Not like he was disappointed, or tired of his behaviour but...softly chiding. All Keith wanted was to hear Shiro say good things about him, praise him. Not that he’d ever let the older man know that. 

“Fine,” Shiro sighed lightly when Keith didn’t reply. “What did McClaine do?”

Keith stiffened. There was no way he was telling Shiro. Crossing his arms, he rested back against the pillows.

“I spoke to Captain Parilla about it. He says he heard my name.”

Oh, shit. 

Keith had no issue telling Shiro that McClaine was a bumbling moron who should learn to keep his tongue behind his teeth if he wanted to keep them in that dumb face of his. But he didn’t want to tell him why he’d had to punch him for it this time.

It was common knowledge at the school that Captain Shirogane and his boyfriend were breaking up. In such a small place, gossip was rife and unfortunately this week the hot topic had been the end of the match of two of the teachers. 

Keith had overheard some girl talking about it in the cafeteria, asking her friend excitedly “if she’d heard” and an almost breathless “heard what” had followed. 

“I heard from Maggie whose sister has the late watch that Captain Tremaine and Shiro had a shouting match that ended with them breaking up and Captain Tremaine driving away at like one in the morning. He hasn’t come back yet.”

Keith had stilled but hearing it, he put his tray down and spun on his heel. Unseeingly he turned right and headed down the hallway towards the officers’ quarters. Captain Tremaine, or Adam as Shiro called him, had left Shiro? He knew from Shiro, despite him glossing over the details, that they had been fighting but breaking up? Knowing how seriously his friend took commitment he could only guess how he was feeling now.

He’d gotten as far as Shiro’s door, lifted his hand to knock. Imagined what he might find inside. He hesitated. Why would Shiro want to see him now? What comfort could Keith offer? He was prickly, contrary, awkward. He had to be the last person who could be of any help right now. 

Comfort Shiro? Don’t kid yourself, Kogane, you’re his charity project. 

With this thought ringing in his head he had walked away. He got to his room and crawled into bed, flinging an arm over his eyes. Shiro was the one going through a breakup, why the hell did he himself have tears in his eyes? Despite the question he knew. He knew that everything inside him for Shiro was a tangled mess.

He might have had dark dreams about Shiro leaving Adam but it had never made him sad. He had just realized he could have Keith and he and the other instructor had parted, amicably. 

He was such a child. 

Shiro would always take a breakup seriously, would think he was the one to fail. The kind of person who would try and keep trying to make the other happy. He would always try his best and when it wasn’t enough it would break his heart. 

Keith rolled over on his side, drawing his knees to his chest. It was aching with what he knew would be killing Shiro. 

It was weaved in with the misery that to Shiro, Keith would never be anything more than a kid. They were friends, but with the years between them it would be a long time before they could even be friends on equal footing. Shiro was his teacher, even if they waited a decade, he would still have been Keith’s teacher. And even if they did, if they waited, if Shiro would eventually see him as an adult or an equal, why would he ever want Keith? He was a skinny, awkward reject with a bad haircut and a worse attitude and Shiro deserved… everything. Better than Keith Kogane could ever be. 

And still his traitorous heart wouldn’t just take the defeat and leave him in peace. It had to light up in hope every time Shiro smiled at him in the way that made the corners of his eyes crease, or when he put a hand on Keith’s shoulder, or when he told him he’d done a good job in that deep voice. It sang, lifted, soared and hoped. 

Keith had never liked Adam. He was too by-the-book, too boring, too uptight, but right now he’d pay to have him back in Shiro’s life. He made Shiro happy and that was all Keith had ever really wanted. And, he provided a buffer, a “no trespassing” sign on Shiro that helped with tempering his wish to reach out, to confess to everything that boiled under his breastbone. Now that buffer was gone and he’d have to watch Shiro, kindly, obliviously, reject him just for who he was, not for who he already had.

Still struggling with the decision if he should go see Shiro or not the day after, he’d been flying in Flight Sims on autopilot when McClaine had to open his big mouth.

“You hear Shiro’s boyfriend broke up with him? And no one’s seen Shiro for days.”

“That’s Captain Shirogane to you,” Keith said quietly.

“Whatever, Kogane. I wonder if Shirogane’s out for the count? He looks all badass but he must be a giant softie if he can’t leave his room for three days after some guy leaves.”

“Lance…” Hunk, the large engineer on their team said, clearly trying to defuse the situation. 

“What Hunk? I’m just saying he might talk tough but really, he’s just a big p-”

Keith flew up, the screen in front of him showing the stars spiralling and an explosion “MISSION FAILURE” flashing in red letters. But he didn’t care. In one move he was up, grabbing McClaine by the collar, hauling him to his feet and pinning him to the wall. 

“Shut the fuck up, McClaine! Just because you blame Captain Shirogane for not making you pilot when your scores are way too low doesn’t mean you can talk shit about him behind his back!”

“Get off me, Kogane, I can say whatever I like!”

“Guys…” Hunk tried to pull them apart but Keith just shook it off. 

“What, you gonna comfort him, Kogane? Hold his hand, dry his tears, tell him everything will get better?”

Keith growled.

Lance’s eyes widened and something gleeful slipped into his gaze.

“That’s it, isn’t it? You wanna bang Shirogane?”

His fist connected with the boy’s goading smile and in a flurry of limbs they fell to the floor, Keith kicking, punching, tearing at the other boy. 

Shiro spoke again, returning him to the present. 

“Why were you fighting, Keith?”

Keith scribbled.

McClaine was being a dick.

Shiro’s eyes gentled in a way that made Keith feel small. 

“Cadet McClaine insulted me, is that it?”

Apparently Keith’s refusal to answer spoke volumes. 

“Keith, I…” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate you would stand up for me, whatever McClaine said, but you need to find a way of controlling your temper. Punching someone you don’t agree with is going to cost you something more than detention one day. And I would hate to see that. You have too much talent, Keith, too much going for you.”

Keith hadn’t had a lot of people praising him in his life. He had no idea how to deal with it and he twisted the covers in his hands.

With a sigh, he then reached for the pen.

I’ll stop fighting him...if he stops being a dick.

Shiro chuckled, tenderness creasing the corners of his eyes. 

Damn. Keith couldn’t deal with that look, it made him want to both curl up and bask, and hide under the covers like a child. It made his heart race and his throat slam shut.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Shiro tilted his head. “Lance goads you because he’s jealous.”

It was clear he didn’t need a pad to convey his disbelief in the notion.

“Keith, Lance has wanted to come to the Garrison since he was five. He’s dreamed of being an ace pilot, of being at the top of his class. He’s worked really hard for it. Then he meets you and...you know all these things instinctively that he has had to learn. You fly like you were born to do it, you’re crushing every flying record we have and you do it without looking like you’re even trying.”

For you, Keith wanted to tell Shiro and was glad his voice wouldn’t let the incriminating words slip out. He only ever cared about impressing Shiro, about making him proud, of...proving himself. Proving Shiro hadn’t been wrong to put his trust in him. 

“You just have everything that Lance wants.”

Keith crossed his arms over his chest, stared hard at the floor on the other side of the bed, away from Shiro and his gentle voice.

“So just think about that before you punch him the next time.”

At this, Keith couldn’t help the twitch of a smile. Shiro did know him really well. He didn’t decree, or order, or use the authority he clearly had over Keith. He just explained, and asked that Keith thought about it. 

To distract himself from the growing tenderness in his throat, Keith lifted his pen. Hesitated. Glanced at Shiro.

“Go on, ask what you want to ask.”

Keith wondered how to phrase it. Then he decided and wrote,

How’s Adam?

Shiro read, a flash of something broken in his eyes.

“You heard, huh?”

Keith nodded. Then waited. He knew Shiro understood what he was really asking. If he’d asked “how are you?” Shiro would have responded “fine” because that’s what he demanded of himself to always be for others. Asking about Adam made it more roundabout, gave Shiro an out if he didn’t want to talk about it but also let him know Keith knew about the breakup. 

A sigh escaped the older man. He rubbed his hands over his face and let his head fall back to stare at the ceiling. Keith kicked himself for getting distracted by how the column of his throat looked, bared and inviting. 

“I...I don’t think he’s doing so well.”

Keith nodded, kept fiddling with the covers. 

“It’s hard,” Shiro continued and Keith couldn’t believe he was trusted to hear this. He swore to himself whatever Shiro told him, he’d take to his grave. “He’s not...wrong, or not completely wrong but I…”

Searching his memory he tried to make sense of this as an argument he could have heard about. He couldn’t think of anything. Apparently Shiro realized too, and backtracked.

“There’s a new mission. I can’t talk about it, really, but it’s deep space, Keith. Real flying, for months.”

Fear for missing Shiro like he would miss a limb twisted the joy he felt for him. Decisively he strangled the sensation. It was Shiro’s dream. 

“And it’s...it’s my last chance. With my health, this will be the last opportunity for me to ever go into space.”

He knew that too. Knew the unfairness of Shiro’s life, the one part of his physical form that wasn’t perfect. The disease that lay dormant under his skin, that would one day rob him of all the things that made him a legendary pilot. 

“Adam...Adam thinks I’m foolish. That I should stay back, not take any chances. Settle for a shorter mission, something easier.”

Every line of Shiro’s face and shoulders screamed out his pain. Keith reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. The older man’s head dropped. His shoulder shook under his fingers and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Shiro, hold him, tell him he deserved better, deserved everything. 

One handed, he managed to write.

Shiro, hearing the pen against the paper, looked up. He hadn’t been crying but his eyes were glassy.

You need to go

It’s your dream

A shudder travelled through him. Gratitude seeped into his eyes and Keith’s throat started squeezing shut.

“Thanks, Keith.”

He took his hand and squeezed.

#writersmonth2020 #sheith #voltron #keith kogane #takashi shirogane

[gifted-burnout-archive]

Codename: Candy

Part Seventeen - Who She Was

Word Count - 1806

Author’s Note: A bit of backstory and planning ahead, the way it should be! I just love this entire story so much ugh just thank you so much for reading!

Amelia Rosalee Telford was born on a mild morning in early January 1989 at the Boulder City Hospital, to proud parents Etta Black and John Telford. She was three weeks premature, and weighed 5 pounds and 6 ounces. Despite her early birth, she was completely healthy, and taken home that afternoon.

She grew up in a nice neighbourhood, and her first memory was her parents' wedding when she was 3 years old, throwing flower petals and being fussed over in her handmade dress. She was a happy child, and part of a happy family. Picnics on sunny afternoons, a holiday to Disney World when she was 8, swimming lessons with dad at the local pool.

When she entered middle school, teachers soon realised the quiet children was excelling far past her classmates, and after discussions with her teacher and parents, Amelia skipped two grades. She was smaller than the other kids, and they picked on her for it, but it didn't bother her much. She liked her teacher, and had a friend from the grade below named Tilly. At 13, Amelia experienced two major life events:

1. Her freshman year of high school. 2. And a car accident that killed her mother and crippled her father.

In the realm of tragic origin stories, Amelia sat comfortably in the bracket of Peter Parker and Bruce Wayne. She became a part-time, then full-time carer of her father, before CPS got involved and moved her into with a foster family.

Meanwhile, her school life became increasingly more difficult in the area of social connections. No-one wanted to spend time with the kid with a dead mom, the foster kid. Amelia became isolated, and while she still excelled in school, she hated every second she spent in its walls.

Amelia graduated early from Redwood High just before her 17th birthday, with multiple offers to out-of-state universities, but she had little idea what she wanted to do with her life, and little money for studying. She spent the following months working part-time at a local pharmacy, visiting her father in his assisted care facility.

On the day of her fellow classmates' graduation that April, her foster mother received a copy of the yearbook, and gifted it to Amelia over breakfast. She flipped through the book idly, stopping on the Superlatives after seeing her picture. Above it, the words that would stick with her for the rest of her life:

Most Likely to Stay in Boulder.

And for a few days, she agreed. Her life was in Boulder, why would she leave? Then her dad passed away from an undiagnosed heart condition, and Amelia was deemed a legal adult.

No more foster home. No parents. No friends. A dead end job.

It was the June, after she had moved out of her foster home and into her dad's old car, that Amelia went to her local strip mall to window shop and was dragged into conversation with an Army recruiter. She wasn't sure why he decided to talk to her, she wasn't very tall, nor was she at the peak of physical fitness. Maybe she looked desperate.

What was meant to be a small chat and ultimate rejection turned into the recruiter having a cup of coffee with her, and the pair talking for three hours about the Army. The man was in his mid-thirties, he had served all over the world, had a family, new languages, and a job as a realtor he got on his commander's recommendation.

By the end of that summer, she had lost 30 pounds of fat and replaced it with muscle, and she shipped off to San Diego, California for Marine Corps Boot Camp. And, one day, in the middle of training, the realisation hit her: she made it out of Boulder. And what's more, she had no intention of going back.

—

"Good morning folks, we have some critical business to attend to today, so please sit." Mike called to the room of twenty or so CIA officials, Jack and Greer amongst them, as he walked in the meeting room, the Ambassador following him in. The room was fast to settle down, and Jack couldn't help scanning over the heads to see if Candy had made it, but as the room found seats, Jack spotted one spare, and had his answer.

"Today, we have the Ambassador sitting in, and our team from Langley, who will be filling us in on the current situation." Mike introduced them, and Jack stood up, walking to the front of the room, facing the officials. He cleared his throat, taking the screen remote and clicking onto the slide.

A phtograph, of the thirty two people who died in Washington the day before, bodies lined up in black bags, behind them the still smouldering remains of the Mall Hotel.

"As I am sure you've all been made aware, a terrorist attack happened in the Capitol yesterday, and recent intel has reached the unfaltering conclusion that this man," a click, and the scene of death was replaced by Thomas Roland's last confirmed sighting, "is responsible. However, Thomas Roland isn't just a terrorist. He's a business man, a scientist, and extremely rich individual who is currently hiding in Egypt with the help of Saudi contacts and ISIS, with the agreement to manufacture dirty bombs for the highest bidder." With that, Jack spent the next two hours running the team through the most sensitive details of the case. The interrogation in Afghanistan, the nuclear substances stolen from India, the decisions that led to where they stood, the manufacturing of dirty bombs, and most importantly, the bank statements.

The team sat in silence, taking notes and jotting down questions to ask at the end of the brief. As Jack moved on to the final section of the presentation, the clock on the wall displaying 12.58, Candy walked into the room, standing by the door. She removed her Walkman headphones, pressing a button on the box clipped to her waistband to listen to Jack's closing. He caught her coming in, and while he kept talking, he couldn't help noticing she had changed back into her army uniform, vest and gun still on. She had left the building.

"Our next move has to be warning Madrid of the possible threat coming their way. We suggest that the building targeted should be evacuated a half hour before the devices are, by our sources, meant to detonate. While risky, it keeps civilians safe without alerting Roland and his team we are on their tail... If you have any questions, now would be the time to ask." Jack nodded, going back to his seat. A few of the team raised concerns over public security, the lack of troops in the city for American protection, and Greer stepped in to assure them a trained team were being briefed and flying over within the next two days.

As the room began to relax, and pack up, the Ambassador spoke up. "This is all well and good, but it's not just Thomas Roland to worry about." He spoke you, and Jack looked over.

"He is the centre of the entire project, sir, without Roland the business fall apart." Jack answered, confused.

"What about the chief of staff? The one dealing with the funds? The minute Roland is detained, he's becoming their leader." The Ambassador argued, and Jack nodded.

"We are aware of the threat Roland's brother might pose, however we have plans in place through the Special Forces. The accounts are set to freeze by Roland's birthday, so assets won't be an issue." Jack said, standing up.

"And what are these plans?" The Ambassador persisted.

"That's classified." Candy spoke up, the room looking over to her. She smiled as sweetly as she could manage, but the Ambassador didn't look impressed.

"What do you mean classified?" He asked, and Mike stepped in.

"Folks, why don't we discuss this in my office. Everyone else, back to work... Thank you for being here today." Mike gave a look to Jack, and the trio followed Mike and the Ambassador out of the room and towards Mike's office. Once the door was shut, and Mike had sat himself down. "Ambassador Jenkins, I'd like to formally introduce you to Doctor Jack Ryan, Jim Greer and Candy." Mike gestured to each one turn.

"What's this bullshit about classified? I'm the fucking Ambassador." Jenkins asked, pissed off was an understatement. Jack wasn't sure how to explain it, but he didn't have to.

"Not to be a dick, Mr Ambassador, but you aren't here to know about Special Ops, you're here to keep peace and look pretty on camera for the Egyptian populous. The situation surrounding Michael Roland is ongoing, and the team tasked with taking him in are separate from the work Doctor Ryan and your Embassy are doing." Candy spoke with a quiet assertion laced in her voice, daring him to argue back. She was perhaps two decades his younger, not to mention two thirds of his size.

"Keep your Lieutenant in check, Doctor Ryan. I don't appreciate your guard dog telling me what I should and shouldn't know." The Ambassador sneered, and Jack tried to keep the smirk from appearing on his face as he delivered the satisfying statement.

"She outranks you Sir... I suggest you listen to what she says." The words caused a smile to sneak onto Mike's face as he spoke up.

"Ambassador, I've worked with Jim and Jack before. If this is the way they have decided to go, it's the best course of action.... Don't you have a meeting with the Minister of Finance in twenty minutes?" Mike questioned, and with a final glare to Candy, the Ambassador stormed out the room, slamming the door behind him. Almost simultaneously, each realised a baited breath. Mike spoke first. "I hate that guy... I've worked with my ex-wife and even she was better to be around..."

"Thank you, Mike... Last thing we need is Jenkins holding more cards than he should." Greer said, taking a seat across from their old friend.

"So, Madrid..." Mike said, and Jack sat down too, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes... Get the Embassy on the phone, direct line to chief of staff would be good." Jack breathed out, and glanced back at Candy, who was walking out the door. "Make sure you get back here before 9, Hawkins wants a video call." Jack reminded Candy, and she nodded, closing the door behind her as she left.

"What did she mean, classified?" Mike asked, and Jack sighed, leaning forward in his chair, elbows on his knees.

"Honestly man, I don't think I have the authority to share... This whole thing with the brother is above my pay grade." Jack admitted, and Mike nodded, not asking more as he dialled up Madrid.

—

#jack ryan #jack ryan x female oc #female oc #fanfic #fanfiction #tom clancy #john krasinski #thriller #romance #cia #army #us army #codename candy #part seventeen