#leaving a massive gap between what skills students come in with and what's expected of them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tryingmyves · 3 years

Text

Girl All the Bad Guys Want

okay i won’t lie, i remembered this song exists and i could not get the idea of a badboy!iida out of my head

this is a bit self indulgent because i was definitely that girl in hs lmaoooo

anyhow hopefully y’all like it too

PAIRING: Iida x Y/N

cw: badboy!iida

✨ tagging the iida army: @coleluuviida + @saturnity + @peachiileaf ✨

You have a reputation at UA, mostly with the male students. It isn’t something you put effort into maintaining or even something you cultivated on purpose, but you’ve gained some notoriety amongst your peers. At first glance, you don’t seem too different from your female classmates. You certainly don’t feel superior or disparate from them, but you’ve also never quite felt like you belonged with them. You don’t excel at being soft and demure, and you refuse to shrink yourself down in order to make others more comfortable in your presence. You spit in the face of all the things typically expected of a lady. And frankly, you’re more than a bit awkward when you hangout with the girls from your class. They always invite you to their sleepovers and shopping trips, and try to engage you in their conversations, but you’re always worried about saying the wrong thing or accidentally offending them. You’re never really able to add anything of value when they talk about the boys in your class - a recurring subject. Mina knows everything about everyone in class; she loves to gossip. It’s like her horns serve as antennae and pick up on all the juiciest secrets. She is always interrogating the other girls about their crushes but you just never really felt that way about anyone. Honestly, you find the conversations about who likes who to be a bit boring. You typically end up hanging out with Bakugo, Kirishima, and the rest of that squad. Boys are just easier to be around. They don’t get offended at your crass comments and your sometimes gruff disposition looks outright friendly next to Bakugo.

Your undeniably attractive appearance, unquestionable skill with your quirk, and nonchalant attitude have landed you in the sights of several of your fellow UA students. You are the embodiment of do no harm, but take no shit and something about you is intoxicating. Mina frequently jokes with you about how the entirety of the Bakusquad is duking it out to see who gets to ask you out first. You roll your eyes at her, convinced she’s imagining things. But in reality you’re just clueless. As cliché as it is, you really are the girl all the bad guys want. Too bad you didn’t want them back.

What you didn’t expect with your tough exterior, competitive nature, and tendency to slack off on class work is that class rep, Tenya Iida, would want you too. God, not even he expected it but he had fallen hard. You frustrate him. You’re just as smart as Yaomomo or Todoroki, but you skate by in class. You don’t outwardly disrespect authority, but you won’t blindly accept orders just because someone says so. He thinks the rap metal music you listen to while training is abrasive and doesn’t understand why all your favorite artists sound like they’re mad at their fathers. He finally gave up on lecturing you on the fact that the fishnets you wear with your uniform are not regulation and he was still wrestling with how he felt about learning you were one of the students caught at a dorm party with alcohol a few weeks ago. More than anything he hates that you’ve so effortlessly got him pining for you and you haven’t even noticed. Iida loves the rules! Order, structure, regulation - these are the things that Iida covets, so why was he craving the taste of your lips on his?

He is tired of silently lusting after you, and decides he’s going to try actively pursuing you instead. Tenya thinks that you like “bad boys” so as foreign as the concept is to him, he concludes he’s going to have to take on that persona. He starts off simply, making a playlist of songs he’s heard you blaring from your dorm. He eases himself into your music, starting with Linkin Park and Korn, before adding Incubus, Machine Head, and even some ICP to the mix. He’s hesitant at first… the music just sounds so hostile and aggressive to him. But soon he finds himself relishing the fierce energy the songs give him. Tenya gets why you train to this sort of music, his workouts becoming more intense than ever. They end in his chest heaving and his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. His muscular calves throb vigorously after every run and he feels powerful. It gives him a new found confidence that he strategically channels into his interactions with you. For class today, Aizawa simply instructs you all to pair off and spar. You’re about to ask Sero to partner with you when he approaches.

“Y/N. You’re with me.” Tenya doesn’t ask, he’s telling you you’re his partner.

A small sound of surprise leaves your throat at his unexpected forcefulness, but you don’t question it. You just nod, giving a small shrug to Sero before following the class rep to a vacant spot of the training gym.

You look over your challenger, rolling your head on your shoulders a few times to loosen up. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you. You asked for this,” you smirk, bringing your fists up in a defensive stance.

Before you can even blink, Tenya has closed the 10 foot gap between you, sweeping a long leg beneath yours in a circular motion, knocking you off your feet. You land with a thud on your back and the air in your lungs is forced out with a nmph.

“Just try to keep up, Y/N.”

Oh, it’s on. Previously you found Iida’s flustered demeanor around you endearing. But this new, assertive, almost cocky disposition is irresistible. His momentum propels him in a circle while he stays anchored in place on his massive left thigh. As he finishes turning through the motion he reaches forward hoping to pin your arms to the ground, but you’re just getting started. You plant the palms of your hands on either side of your face and kick up from the ground with a boost from your quirk. The added flow of air thrusts your legs up and over your head so you are now standing once more. You are sure that the soles of your shoes connect with Iida’s face during your arch through the air.

“It’s not going to be that easy, specs,” you taunt. Now it’s your turn.

You launch yourself at Tenya, closing the small gap between the pair of you in an instant. He extends a locked arm to block your approach but you simply dip your head, gliding underneath and down the length of his limb until you are just one step behind him. You pivot on your right foot as you swing your left arm across your body. Your open palm lands just between Tenya’s shoulder blades, your natural momentum accompanied by a gale force wind. The impact knocks him off his feet and sends him toppling forward. Tenya’s speed is unmatched and his large frame is covered in tone muscle, but with the addition of the very air around you, your strikes are ferocious. Your air quirk aids in your mobility, but you’ve used it to master hand to hand combat. You dominate in tight quarters, so you just need to keep Tenya close. He’s already returned to his feet, calculating his next move. The moment ‘s hesitation creating an opening for your right shin to collide with his side. Tenya growls through gritted teeth in response to the blow and the feral vibrations send shivers down your spine. Instead of recoiling from your attack Tenya’s hands clamp onto your shoulders like vices. His brows are furrowed in smug determination, and he practically sneers “Recipro Burst!”

You are propelled backwards rapidly, the gym surrounding you flashing by in a blur, the only thing you're able to see clearly is the dark glint in Tenya’s eyes and the zealous grin on his lips. You try to activate your quirk to counter his momentum, but it’s futile, he is pushing you backwards so quickly you can’t manipulate any of the air whizzing past you. Your back is suddenly pinned to the back wall of the gym, Tenya’s large hands holding your slender wrists to the concrete wall. He places a muscular thigh between your legs so his left knee is pressed to the wall as well - he has you completely immobilized. Both of your chests are heaving, your faces no more than three inches from one another. You don’t know what possesses you but you smash your lips to his, desperate to close the miniscule gap between you.

Tenya’s body stiffens in shock for a moment before he opens his mouth, snaking his tongue past your lips. You wrench your hands from his grip, placing one on the back of his neck and tangling the other in the mess of his navy hair. You didn’t expect the class rep to be such an amazing kisser, but when he catches your bottom lip between his teeth you can’t contain the soft moan that escapes you. Tenya swallows your noises and begins to pull away. Your lips hungrily follow after him, but you’re stopped when one of his calloused hands rests on your neck with just enough force to hold you in place.

“Such public displays of desire are unbecoming of future heroes, Y/N. Come to my room this evening and we can finish this privately.” And with that, Tenya separates himself from you completely, already settling into a stance that signals he is ready to continue sparring.

#tenya iida #tenya x reader #tenya x y/n #iida x reader #iida x y/n #iida simps come and get y'all juice #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #badboy!au #badboy!iida #by ves #mha imagines #bnha imagines #fan fic writing #fan fic blog

170 notes · View notes

twokinkybeans · 4 years

Text

Jar Or Dirt Chapter 8: Bottle Of Vodka [Starker Fanfiction NSFW/18+]

Kink/Sexual Warnings: None (No sex in this chapter) Other Warnings: Peter gets very drunk and assaulted (kissing only), angsty feelings, emotions.

All Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10 ... Masterpost (More to come!)

---

Chapter 8: Bottle Of Vodka Peter isn’t entirely sure he’s back in this world after the mindblowing and extraordinary high he experienced this morning. His body feels so heavy, his mind extremely slow. He’s in the kitchen, waiting for Tony to follow him out of the shower so they can eat lunch together. He’s slowly tapping his fingers on the countertop - and frowns. Huh? He lifts his hands up, turning them around and staring at his fingers. They feel almost numb. Not tingling like they usually do. It’s almost as if they’re turned off? He takes a deep, shaky breath, flexing his fingers a few times.

Now that he’s starting to pay attention, he notices how eerily quiet it is around him. Where he would hear the wind hit the high rise, there’s nothing now. However, when Peter looks through the windows he sees the swift-moving clouds. He blinks a few times, looking over the New York City skyline. The colors are flat, all contrast dulled to grey shades. He feels empty, no longer feeling his heart pumping his blood through his veins. He’s cold. He’s never cold. The record player doesn’t scratch his ears. There’s no low hum he has to actively cancel out. It’s weird. It’s… Ordinary. He hasn’t felt this way since…

“Hey kid, watcha up to?” “AH!” Peter jolts and turns to find Tony right behind him. Startled, he scrambles and trips over his own feet, landing on his butt with a loud groan. He pants heavily. “Whoa, there!” Tony looks at Peter worried and moves to help him up. Peter takes his hand and feels the tears sting in his eyes when he doesn’t feel Tony’s heartbeat either. “Are you okay?” “I didn’t-” “Didn’t?” “Sense you. I didn’t sense you,” Peter chokes out. “I didn’t know you were behind me.” Tony frowns at Peter. This boy has an unreal accuracy when it comes to knowing where other people are around him. He should’ve sensed him walking up to him. He always does. He explained how he feels the air shift, hears Tony’s clothes ruffle as he walks. This doesn’t sound good.

"Mr. Stark-" Peter's voice is shaky. Tears well up in his eyes as he keeps looking at Tony's hands holding onto his. "-I... I think there’s something wrong with me?” The boy seems genuinely scared and Tony swallows. He bridges the gap between them to hold him close. “Pete, tell me what’s wrong. What’s going on?” “My senses… T-They’re gone? My fingers are numb, everything is silent and dull and… and…” “Alright, baby. It’s going to be alright, okay? Let’s go to the lab, so I can run some tests.” Tony says gently, scooping the boy up and carrying him to the elevator so they can go down. He doesn’t trust Peter to walk by himself right now. “O-okay…”

Tony sighs as he takes another sip of his wine. The penthouse feels empty without Peter around, but he’s glad he managed to encourage Peter to go to Ned’s first frat party. The boy hadn’t wanted to go at first, scared of his now ordinary senses, but at the same time, he didn’t want to bail on Ned. It was scary to see him like this, but F.R.I.D.A.Y. had assured Tony that there was nothing off with the boy, aside from a massive hormonal disbalance. Which, actually, wasn’t a disruption at all. It was the opposite. Peter’s hormones are now completely balanced out, like a normal human being. From what Tony has seen in the boy after a bad fight, his hormones have always healed naturally within a few days. Apparently, the sexual overstimulation caused his Spider senses to shut down completely as a defense mechanism, but he should stabilize within two days tops.

He’s listening to one of the records Peter got him this morning, enjoying the last few hours of his birthday. He took out the Adam Ant one; he hadn’t listened to that for years. It’s good to hear it again. God, this is the singer that definitely helped him realize he was gay. He chuckles. He’s come a long way since being the 14-year old kid he’d been back then. Oh, the memories. He figures he should spend his time a bit more productively and picks up on the NASA article he’d started on reading earlier today, his eyes gliding over the words. Soon enough, he’s interrupted by Peter’s playful ringtone. He catches himself smiling instantly and picks up. “Heya, Pete!” “Mr. Stark?”

Well, that’s definitely not Peter. There’s clearly a party going on in the background, but the music is getting softer, telling Tony that whoever this is, they’re moving away from it. "Heya... Not-Peter?" He sits upright. "Who are you? Why do you have Peter's phone?" "Mr. Stark, it's me, Ned!" Something eats at Tony. This doesn't feel right. Peter never leaves his phone for someone else to take. Not even his best friend. "Oh, hey! Everything alright?" "Well, I'm not sure," Ned says worriedly. Tony stands up from the couch. "Peter's missing." "Peter's what?!" "He left without everything! His phone, his bag- Mr. Stark, even his Spider suit is still in his backpack." "Shit." Tony rushes to the lab to see if there's anything on Peter that could be tracked. "He seemed out of it too- did anything happen?" Tony grimaces at Ned’s question. Yes, something happened. And now Tony can't help but think that this was all his fault. He brought Peter that deep into subspace. He fucked up his hormone levels. He urged Peter to go to Ned's party and have fun. This is on him.

"Ned, did he do anything out of the ordinary?" It's quiet for a second as the other young adult thinks. "I don't think so? He came in feeling a little anxious, so I gave him the vodka bottle so he could get tipsy." "You gave him an entire bottle of vodka?" "You know him, Mr. Stark. His Spider stuff makes alcohol leave his system faster. He has to drink at least half a bottle of that stuff to even get kind of tipsy." God fucking dammit. "Did you see him do it?" Tony stops in his tracks, waiting for Ned to answer. "Do what?" "Down the alcohol?" Tony swipes his hand a few times, activating F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Yeah, his face was hilarious like always, but he chugged at least eleven shots worth, probably more." "Oh my God." Tony nearly drops his phone out of his hands. F.R.I.D.A.Y. is looking up the security footage near the house Ned organized the party at. "What?" Ned asks innocently. "He's drunk, Ned." The uni student is obviously confused. "Peter doesn't get drunk." "He does today. We gotta find him."

Ned helps Tony as much as he can, asking other people if they’ve seen Peter, while Tony is looking at every single inch of the footage F.R.I.D.A.Y. is showing him. According to Ned, Peter had still been inside five minutes ago. He can’t be far. Tony should go to that party and look for Peter himself. He quickly swipes the footage to the screen on his phone and rushes downstairs to get to his cars. “Are you driving, Mr. Stark?” Ned asks when the engine starts. “Yes, I’m headed to campus. Should be there in ten.” “But isn’t it at least a-” “No questions.” Tony cuts him off. He knows damn well he’s driving too fast. “I just want to find my boyfriend.”

Eight minutes in, F.R.I.D.A.Y.S.’ voice echoes through the car. “Mr. Stark, I have signaled Peter just two blocks away from the target location. I have changed the destination in your navigation system,” “Perfect. What’s his condition?” “His motor skills are not functioning up to expectation, but his vitals seem to be fine. I am uncertain whether he is under attack or not.” Tony glances sideways at his phone, looking at an indeed very drunk Peter. There’s another kid too, trying to pull Peter in for a kiss. The boy is trying to push the other dude off him, but it doesn’t seem to be working. “Fuck,” Tony slams his hand against the side of the steering wheel, pushing the gas pedal further down to speed up even faster. “Ned, you hear me?” “Yes, Mr. Stark?” “I found Peter. I’m taking him back to the Tower, we will explain everything later.” Tony rushes out. “Thanks for calling me, could you keep an eye on his stuff? I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” “S-sure, will do, Mr. Stark.” Ned answers. Tony ends the call, feeling like a dick for doing so. Peter is his number one priority right now.

When he gets to the location that F.R.I.D.A.Y. sent him, Peter’s still there, trying to walk away from the other dude, who grabs his wrist to pull Peter back in, kissing him. His boyfriend’s just standing there, frozen in place, his eyes wide. Paralyzed, yet swaying slightly. Tony curses under his breath as he parks the car and gets out of it as fast as he can. “Hey!” He exclaims. The other dude looks up and takes a surprised step back, immediately letting go of Peter. “Y-You’re Tony Stark.” “Yes, and you, kid, are assaulting my boyfriend.” The uni student takes another few steps away from Peter, trying to scramble up a half-assed excuse. “Don’t wanna hear it. Now, get the hell out of here before I lose it.” The kid’s eyes go wide, choking out some weak apology as he runs off. Tony hurries towards Peter, cradling him in his arms. “Baby, are you okay? Come on, let’s get you home.” Tony whispers. Peter is limp in his arms and Tony can’t shake the feeling of how this is all his fault. This isn’t his Peter. He should’ve listened to him. Peter said how bad he was feeling. Tony never doubted that for one second, but he surely hadn’t realized just how bad it had been.

“Am okay,” Peter mumbles. His eyebrows curl up into a frown as he looks at Tony’s arms around him and then at the vehicle Tony is guiding him to. “Hey, wait- I don’t know what you are trying Mister, but I have a boyfriend. I don’t care how nice your car is, my- my boyfriend is even nicer.” Peter slurs, barely able to keep himself standing up. Tony frowns. “Boyfriend?” “Hmmmm,” Peter sighs, dreamily, “-yes. He’s great. Speaking of which, I… I should call him. I-I think I lost my phone. Can I use yours?”

Oh god. Peter doesn’t recognize him. Part of him wants to cry, but he can’t help the nervous laugh from bubbling up his throat. “So, who is your boyfriend, kid?” "Gah!" Peter nonchalantly waves his hand. "You probably don’t know him." "Try me." Peter steps closer and whispers. "Don’t tell anyone!" Peter pouts, and God, he’s actually kind of adorable right now. "We're VERY private." "I can keep a secret." Tony smirks and cocks his head. "Gooooood." Peter relaxes into Tony’s hold and sighs, not continuing his train of thought. "So?" Tony raises his eyebrows. "So what?" "Who's your boyfriend?" It’s cheeky, yes. Tony knows. But he can’t help but wanting to see where this is gonna go. Besides, keeping Peter awake until he’s in his bed is also the easiest on Tony’s back. As long as the boy can kind of stand and talk, the older man won’t have to actually carry him.

"Right! I was gonna tell you that. He's-” Peter pauses to think for a second. “He's, my sun!" "Oh, is he?" Tony plays along. He opens the car door and gently lowers the boy into his seat. "Yeah, he makes me feel warm and safe!" Tony leans over Peter to secure the seat belt, smelling the vodka in Peter’s breath. "But who is he?" "Mm… Stark!" Tony leans back so he can look at Peter’s face. He grins. "Tony Stark?" "Yes!" Peter looks up at him, his eyes wide in surprise. “How’d you know?” Tony shakes his head at the boy. Now that Peter actually seems to be doing fine, his nerves are settling. “Wild guess.”

The entire ride to the Tower Peter keeps gushing on how amazing Tony is, and Tony just takes it all in. He knows Peter loves him, obviously, but drunk Peter talking about him so openly, so freely, even when he thinks Tony’s not even there… It sure warms his heart a whole lot more than he’d like to admit. After all these years, he’s finally got himself a boyfriend he truly and utterly loves. Only fate would’ve known it would come in the shape of a man younger than socially acceptable for most people. At first sight, it might not make a lot of sense to people, but they’ve got so many things in common. Peter might still have that youthful innocence and enthusiasm, but he’s been through enough to know what’s important in life and what isn’t.

“Wow,” Peter says in awe when they arrive at the Tower. He eyes the high rise, angling his body in an attempt to see the top. “You sure have a big house! Mr…?” “Uh,” Tony improvises, “-call me Robert.” “Well, Mr. Robert, Sir… Can I ask you a question?” “Sure, go ahead.” “Can I stay here tonight? I… I think I’m a little drunk.” Tony nods, pressing his lips on top of each other to hold back a smile. “You sure are.” Tony guides Peter into the Tower, his hand resting on the boy’s lower back. “I-I don’t think I can find my dorm like this,” Peter chuckles. His expression turns serious for a second as he looks Tony straight in the eye. “But don’t tell Uncle Ben, he’d kill me for sure.”

Tony’s eyes widen and he stands frozen, staring at Peter. Oh God. The kid doesn’t remember… Doesn’t remember that his uncle has been dead for years. Tony knows how much it kills Peter- how much he still misses that man every single day of his life. They get into the elevator and the doors close slowly. “I mean- it’ll be a lecture about responsi-res-responsibility for sure,” Peter laughs at his own inability to say the word right and Tony shakes his head. “I just don’t wanna worry him, you know?” Peter looks at his feet. He leans on his heels and then looks back up at Tony. “I promise I won’t tell him,” Tony answers quietly, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach. “Gooooood,” Peter slurs and leans against the elevator wall, his head slowly bobbing along with the music. “I love this song.” “My boyfriend chose it,” Tony mumbles, still shaken by the comment about Uncle Ben. He’s torn between how relaxed, but worryingly drunk Peter is. It’s adorable in a way and it’s not. It’s horrifying to see how the boy has zero feel for the world outside right now. How out of it he is. This is probably the first time the kid’s ever gotten drunk, and he wishes Peter didn’t have to endure all this. With all his heart, Tony wishes the kid won’t remember these conversations in the morning.

“Mister Robert, sir, did you know Tony Stark is very good in bed?” Tony jolts to stand upright, surprised at the sudden remark. “Wh- Really?” “Yes,” Peter beams giddily, “-he fucks me really good. He makes me see stars!” His jaw drops, gasping. “Do you think that’s why he’s called Stark?” “I don’t th-” “‘M-already hard thinking about his cock, that’s how smitten I am.” “Alright kid, time to get you tucked in.” Tony replies, trying not to engage in Peter’s… Conversation about his dick. The elevator doors slide open, and Peter stumbles out, staring around the suite with his eyes wide. “Bedroom’s this way.”

Peter follows him without any hint of protest and Tony is so glad he found his boyfriend before the other dude had the opportunity to take his chance on him. Peter’s so naive. So obedient. Anyone else could’ve taken advantage of the kid’s state so easily. He pushes away the vivid scenarios in his head, showing everything that could’ve happened. Everything that could’ve gone horribly wrong. “Woah!” Peter exclaims when he sees their bedroom. “I can sleep in here?!” “Yes, go on, get nice and comfy, I’ll take the couch. See you in the morning.” Tony turns around to walk out, not wanting to intrude on Peter’s safe space now that Tony isn’t perceived to be his boyfriend. He knows it’d make Peter uncomfortable if he’d stay. But before he leaves, he hears Peter’s soft voice from behind him. “Mister Robert, can you believe it? Cause I can’t sometimes.” “Believe what?” “That Tony Stark likes me?” Tony's heart skips a beat, God, his boy is so sweet and innocent and precious. Please, let him never lose that. "I'm sure he loves you, Peter." "Hmmm, he better, or I'll kick his ass.” Peter chuckles out loud and drops onto the bed. “G’night, Mr. Robert.” He sighs into the pillow. “Sir.” “Goodnight, kid.”

Peter wakes up slowly, bright sunlight washing over his face. Oh, man. His head’s exploding. He turns around, trying to evade the brightness and he reaches around for Tony. The sheets are empty and cold, and Peter frowns. Slowly, his eyes flutter open and he’s met with an empty room. He’s alone. He squeezes his eyes shut again. Too much input. He feels nauseous, not enough to make his body throw up, but he’s definitely not doing well. What the fuck happened? “T-Tony?” There’s no response. Peter takes a shaky breath, curling his knees up to his chest and hiding deeper into the comfort of his sheets. “F- F.R.I.D.A.Y., where’s Tony?” “He’s picking up your belongings at your campus dorm.” “My- what now?” “He didn’t specify.”

Peter groans and turns around, reaching out for his phone. Only to find the nightstand empty, except for a bottle of water and a strip of painkillers. Fuck. He still has no clue what’s going on, but at least he knows that he needs to take those meds for the awful thumping in his head. He sits upright and breathes through yet another wave of nausea, and then downs the two pills. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., please tell Tony to come up when he returns.” “I will, Peter.” “Thank you,” he mumbles, laying down again. He tries to think about yesterday. It was a Sunday, right? Meaning it's been Tony’s birthday. Yes. Yes it has been. He remembers giving him the vinyls. Remembers Tony giving him… uh, the sex toy. After that, things get hazy though.

“Hey, kid,” Peter shoots up, realizing he must’ve dozed off again. He groans, his head is still very much hurting him. Tony’s eyeing him carefully. “Tony, what happened?” “Oh, glad you remember me again,” Tony smirks at him, dropping Peter’s backpack onto the floor and then raises his hand, Peter’s phone dangling between his fingers. “You sure took a hit, never thought I’d see you so wasted.” Tony throws him his phone and kicks his shoes off, walking to Peter’s side of the bed and laying down next to him. “How are you feeling?” “Awful.” “Figured. You took the painkillers I left you?” Peter nods, snuggling into Tony, who wraps his arms around him in return. Tony seems a bit standoff-ish, his sarcastic wall pulled back up and Peter wonders if he said anything to him last night. “Tony… What happened?” Peter asks again, carefully. “I don’t remember.” “Good.” Alright, something’s up. Tony sure loves to joke around but he’s never like this. Not around Peter anyways. He’d never joke about Peter feeling sick without reason. He must’ve done something bad that he doesn’t remember. Besides, the drunk story doesn’t make sense to him. He’s never been able to get truly drunk and boy he tried. “How’d I get drunk?” “Vodka.”

Peter bites his lips and takes a deep breath. He really fucked something up here. If he wants Tony to talk, he’s going to have to be patient. He carefully turns around in the man’s embrace, looking up at his face. Tony’s looking down at him, his expression almost unreadable. Almost.

Guilt.

Peter should’ve known. There’s only one thing that makes Tony act like a bit of an asshole towards him. Whatever Peter did, Tony’s feeling guilty about it. So, he carefully reaches out to touch Tony’s face, trailing his fingers across his cheek. “Talk to me?” “There’s nothing to say, kid.” Tony answers curtly. Okay, Peter has a lot of patience, but not this much. His headache is keeping him from being focused and he just doesn’t want to deal with any of this now. He just wants to be in Tony’s arms, quietly feeling loved. This is not quite it yet. “Don’t kid me, not right now, Tony. Something bad happened, and I want to know what. I could ask F.R.I.D.A.Y., but I’d rather talk to you. We both know I don’t get drunk. But I did. Why?” Peter demands. He doesn’t like talking this way, but he’s not leaving Tony to drown in his guilt alone. “Because…” Tony starts, trailing off as he tries to find his words. He isn’t looking up at Peter anymore, his eyes cast away to the walls. “I didn’t realize how bad it was. The… The hormone stuff.” “The what?” Peter asks, his eyes widening. Tony huffs quietly. “First, I need you to tell me the last thing you remember.” Tony’s voice is stern and Peter closes his eyes to think. Blocking out all the bright lights from outside. “We… We had amazing sex,” he says after a while. “Don’t think I ever felt that good.” Tony sniffs and takes a deep breath. “That’s the last thing?” Tony asks, barely believing Peter’s words. The boy nods slowly. There’s nothing else in his mind other than the memory of Tony letting go on top of him. “It is.” “Shit, I-I pushed you too hard, Pete. I got your hormones fucked up, you didn’t have your heightened senses anymore. You told me how bad you felt, and I still talked you into going to Ned’s party. You got drunk and went missing. Ned called me, I picked you up and brought you back home. There, that’s it.”

Peter stares at Tony’s face, squinting his eyes slightly. “That’s it?” “That’s it.” Peter purses his lips, not satisfied with the answer. He makes himself smaller as he looks away from Tony, pressing the top of his head into the man’s chest. “Did…” Peter frowns, trying to figure out the best way to ask it. “Did I hurt anyone?” Tony immediately pushes Peter away from him, forcing the boy to look him in the eye again. “No. You didn’t.” The look on his face is so serious, so worried, that Peter feels tears sting in the back of his eyes. His voice cracks. “Did anyone hurt me?” Tony’s jaw clenches and his eye twitches, causing Peter to suck in his breath. It takes a few seconds for Tony to reply. “Some dick tried to get into your pants,” he mumbles. Peter can tell the man wants to look away from him, but he doesn’t. “He ran off when he saw me.” “Did he-” “He kissed you. Nothing more.” Tony bites the inside of his cheek. “You tried to push him off, but he kissed you.”

It’s Peter who breaks eye contact, looking down again. “I’m sorry…” he whispers softly. Tony pulls him in tight again, the boy immediately softens up against him, curling his arms around Tony’s body. Tony wants to cry. Peter is apologizing for the fact that someone took advantage of his drunk state. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Pete. This is on me.” “I should have known I couldn’t drink as much as I normally do.” Peter’s voice sounds muffled against Tony’s chest. “It’s okay, kid…” Tony takes a breath. “I should’ve listened to you. I’m sorry.” Peter’s fingers press into Tony’s skin through his shirt. “I love you, Tony.” Peter’s shoulders jolt slightly and Tony holds him even tighter. He hates it when Peter cries. The boy doesn’t deserve this pain. Especially since this was not his fault. At all. He presses a soft kiss on Peter’s head and closes his eyes, feeling a dagger pierce his heart as he remembers all the things Peter said yesterday. A part of Tony sees how the drunk Peter he saw yesterday, could’ve been Peter if he hadn’t been Spider-Man, if Uncle Ben hadn’t been murdered. Worried about his Uncle’s opinion like any other regular teenager would. Peter isn’t regular, though. Tony can only hope that his embrace softens the pain, like it always does for him. “I know.”

--- More: Chapter 9 Masterpost

11 notes · View notes

the-mykie-show · 5 years

Text

Leather and Lace (Neganxreader)

Before the apocalypse Negan was your favorite teacher who you also had a massive crush on, the two of you are reunited in Alexandria and you discover that the fire between you is far from extinguished.

Gif is not mine, full credit to the maker.

Requested by @you-are-electric-temptation-girl

*rating* explicit.

*Warnings* Negan's potty mouth, graphic descriptions of sex, Negan tormenting Rick, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral sex, fingering, come licking, leather kink, student/teacher relationship, age gap, underage sex mentioned but never actually happened, mention of death and Canon typical violence.

“they're here!” you heard someone whisper from the crowd that had gathered around the gates of Alexandria, fear in all their eyes as they watched Rick open the gate for the convoy of Saviors here to collect their tribute.

You weren't there on the night of the lineup where the Savior’s leader had brutally killed two Alexandrians in retaliation for Rick taking out a Savior outpost with the help of Jesus and the Hilltop, but Negan wasn't a common name, and the odds that you knew the brutal leader were looking more and more likely.

Negan was your teacher before the outbreak, not only was he your favorite teacher, you also had a massive crush on him. So massive it was embarrassing, you were very grateful he never found out. Not only was Negan married, he'd also never sleep with an underage girl.

A demented little voice in the back of your head reminds you that you're not underage anymore if the leader of the Saviors is really the same Negan.

You turned 18 a few months after the world fell, if the apocalypse would've waited another 2 weeks you would have graduated with honors. Instead you and your family fled to the Alexandria Safe Zone where you'd lived ever since, and your entire high school career seemed like a different lifetime, Negan included.

When the gates opened your suspensions were confirmed.

It was definitely your Negan. He looked different now, he'd traded in his old gym t-shirt and running shoes for a leather jacket and biker boots, he looked older, with more lines on his face and grey hairs in the scruff on his jaw, and he wore his hair different now, slicked back and shaved down shorter on the sides. He was still just as hot as you remembered him, maybe even hotter if that was even possible.

He stops to talk with Rick, grinning from ear to ear, and obviously getting off on tormenting Alexandria's leader. You were a little ashamed of yourself for thinking it, but you would love to get him off in another way.

He asks to see the armory as his men park their trucks and start looking for things to take, Rick begrudgingly begins walking toward the armory with Negan following behind him looking absolutely gleeful.

He looks up and makes eye contact with you, and you see immediately that he recognizes you.

“Holy shit! Y/N? Is that really you?” you nod, you're a little surprised he actually remembers you, but part of you couldn't be happier.

“Yeah, it's really me.” the Alexandrians look shocked.

“Well hot damn. You been here all along?” he asks.

“Yup, pretty much since the start.”

“You know what Ricky? I think I'd rather take the tour with Y/N here, we got some catching up to do.” Rick looks irritated and so done with Negan's shit he's probably actually glad he doesn't have to give Negan the tour. He nods exasperatedly.

Negan throws his arm over your shoulder and you walk to him to armory with several Saviors in tow.

“So you're like what? A warlord now?” you finally break the silence.

“Not exactly, although I do rule with an iron fist. I keep my people alive and relatively well off, that's more than most can say these days.”

“What about your wife? Lucille?”

He looks sad “She died, cancer, right after the outbreak.” he swings the barbed wire wrapped baseball bat down off his shoulder holding it up on display. “This is all I have left of her, named her Lucille after her.”

“Oh, I'm really sorry Negan.”

“What about that boyfriend you had? He still around?” he asked as you open the door to the armory, he waves the Saviors off and they take up guard by the door, which Negan closes behind you and locks. You feel like that should make you nervous but it doesn't.

“Didn't make it, he died in an altercation with another group.”

“I'm sorry, that's rough kid.”

You shrug “It was hard but it wasn't like we were married, not like you and Lucille. I'm passed it. ” he picks up one of the guns and starts turning it over in his hand before removing the clip and examining the bullets.

“Can I just be honest for second?” he hands you the gun and picks up another.

“I wouldn't expect anything less.” you wonder if always knew guns this well or if it was a skill he acquired post apocalypse.

“I always thought that guy was a douchebag and you deserved better.” he admits and you laugh.

“He was kind of a douchebag wasn't he?” he holds up two guns weighing his options.

“Oh yeah, definitely. Don't know you ever saw in his.” you didn't know what you expected from Negan, but it wasn't this, it wasn't playful flirty banter.

“Okay, ya know…” you start to say but he cuts you off.

“I thought about you, after. Wondered if you made it, I went to your house after Lucille passed, but you were already gone.”

“Why?” you ask.

“I didn't want to be alone.” he admitted, the look in his eyes tells you that he was alone, and probably alone for quite a while after that. “And then I came across this group of men, not that they even deserve to be called that… the shit they were doing to women in their group- God it was so fucked up. All I could think about for the longest time was wondering if you were with people like them.” you were genuinely surprised and touched by his words.

Almost immediately his smug smirk returns with a vengeance.

“You used to have the biggest fucking crush on me back in the day.” you want to deny it, but you can already feel your blush heating up your checks and you know there's no point in trying to play it off.

“For what it's worth I had a thing for you too.” he says while loading up some of the guns he chose into a duffle bag. You're too shocked for words and all you can do is stare at him.

“Probably would have acted on it if you weren't so young and my student too.”

You don't think before you speak and the next words out of your mouth come as a surprise even to you. “Well I'm so young anymore, and not your student.”

“Are you saying what I think you're saying?” he asks, and when you see that sexy smirk cross his face you can't help but feel you're making the right choice.

“Maybe, what do you think I'm saying?” he pushes you up against the wall, pinning you in with his body, and his hand raises to brush your check, while he leans in close to your ear.

“I think you're saying you want me to bend you over this table and fuck your brains out.” you feel his breath on your ear and a rush of warmth goes straight to your core.

Your hands grab the lapels of his leather jacket, he smells just as good as you remember, like whiskey and leather with a hint of something spicy and masculine that reminds you of a forest somehow.

You lean in and kiss him, which he returns in full, quickly taking control of the kiss with one hand grabbing a handful of your hair and the other sliding down over the curve of your ass. His tongue slips in your mouth, making you moan against his lips.

He breaks the kiss, his hand going to the zipper of his jacket. “Take off your clothes babygirl.”

Negan's lips are against your neck when you regain the brain power to protest “We can't Negan, not in here. Someone will hear us.”

“It's fine, I got guards on the door, they won't let anyone in.” he reassures you. “Just relax and trust me,” he whispered against your ear, softly nipping your ear lobe on the way down your neck, planting kisses and sucking on your skin as he went. Once he reaches the juncture of your neck and shoulder you feel his hand snake under your shirt “Can I take your shirt off?” you nod letting out a shaky breath as he pulls your shirt over your head,leaving your bra on he stands back and takes your body in.

His hands slide down to button of your jeans, popping it and sliding the zipper down, “Take off your pants and touch yourself for me.” you find yourself immediately following his orders, toeing off your boots and stripping your jeans off, wiggling your ass as you pull them down, putting on a show for him.

Once they're off and you're left in your bra and panties you let your hand drift to your core.

“Just over the panties.” your fingers trace the arousal that had already soaked through your panties, and rubbed yourself through the lacy fabric desperate for some friction, just when you fall into a rhythm and it really starts to feel good Negan's hand grabs your wrist, stopping you from pleasuring yourself.

Your hand is replaced with his, and you feel his leather clad fingers move your panties over and slip into your folds, you have to bite your lip to hold in your moan of pure pleasure at the feeling of smooth leather, slick with your arousal, teasing your clit.

“Damn darlin’ you're fucking dripping. You that happy to see me?” his fingers slip lower, the tip of one teasing your entrance, and God do you want him to fuck you with them so badly.

“Or is it just that you haven't gotten off in a while? Tell me, how long has it been since somebody touched you like this?”

“Awhile.” you admit, whimpering with need.

“Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to slip my fingers into that tight little pussy and fuck you until you come?” something about his voice made your walls clench.

“Yes!” you practically whine.

“Good girl.” he smirks and then presses two fingers inside you with one smooth flick of his wrist. The feeling of leather inside you is a little strange but definitely not unwelcome, there's something so arousing about it. His thumb rubs your clit in slow rhythmic circles while his fingers find that perfect spot deep inside you that makes you throb in all of the right places.

It doesn't take long before your on the brink of your orgasm.

“You always this responsive to a little finger fucking?” he asks.

“No, I think it's the leather.” you admit with a moan, starting to thrust your hips against his hand.

“If I knew you liked it kinky I might have just fucked you back in the day.” he admits with a wink, still stroking your sweet spot perfectly.

“Now come for me, show me how good I make you feel.” it only takes two more thrusts of his fingers and you come around them, the leather feels even more amazing rubbing against your walls when your body is clenched with pleasure.

When he pulls his hand from between your legs it's soaked in your juices.

You lean against the table behind you, still coming down from your high, but Negan has other ideas and leans down to kiss you again, he pulls your panties down to join your jeans and shirt on the floor.

Slipping his tongue in your mouth as his hands slide down to the curve of your ass, giving you a little squeeze before lifting your up and sitting you down on the table.

He drops to his knees in front of you, hands sliding up your inner thighs to part your legs his smug smirk staying on his lips until his mouth starts exploring your folds.

His tongue laps at your clit and teases your entrance before dipping inside your already desperately needy pussy. He alternates between fucking you with his tongue and sucking on your clit, the combination of the two is enough to make your eyes roll back in your head.

You would almost swear your crush on Negan was just women's intuition trying to point you in the direction of a man who knew how to lick pussy at this point.

And oh my God did he know exactly what he was doing, your thighs rest over his shoulders, while you desperately move your hips against his mouth, needing his tongue to be everywhere at once.

You lean on your elbows and make yourself open your eyes and look down. The sight of Negan on his knees with his tongue inside you is enough to put you on the edge of another orgasm, and all it takes to push you over that edge is one more soft lick up your clit. You have to bite your lip to keep from immediately alerting all of Alexandria that you just let their worst enemy make you come on his fingers and then lick you clean until you came again.

Negan finally pulls away from your folds once he's satisfied he's lapped up all your come.

“Damn babygirl, you must've been so needy for that it hurt.” he wasn't wrong, you felt so satisfied but also still achy and needy, you needed to be fucked. You needed to feel his cock inside you, filling you up and stretching you. He reaches down and starts undoing his belts, and opening his pants.

“Now I'm gonna fuck you, nice and hard, until you come on my cock.”

He drops his pants and you aren't really surprised to see he's very well endowed, long and thick, he's already rock hard and dripping precome.

He pulls you down off the table, turning you around and bending you over it and gently kicking your legs further apart.

His hand squeezes your ass again and gives it a light smack.

“You have a fantastic ass, maybe I'll fuck it next.” he whispers in your ear before taking his tip and lining it up with your entrance.

He slides in slowly, you can feel every single inch of him stretching you, you can even feel the vein on the underside of his cock, the angle is perfect and makes you feel so deliciously full.

“Fuck you're tight.” he moans starting to thrust, he finds a perfect rhythm and angle, it makes you lose your breath every time he fills you again with each thrust, and you whimper and moan every time his head hits that spot inside you that makes your walls clench tighter and your toes curl.

“Goddamn babygirl if you keep squeezing my cock like that I ain't going to last much longer.” he groans still thrusting hard in and out of you.

You whithred against him, desperate for another orgasm, and then you feel his gloved hand between your legs, the tip of his finger rubbing your clit.

“oh!” you moan in a combination of pleasure and surprise, his leather clad fingers rubbing and teasing your already so sensitive and swollen clit combined with his cock filling you so completely is enough to make you almost scream in pure pleasure.

“Negan!” you moan his name as you feel the coil of pleasure start to build in your core.

“That's it baby, come for me.” he says against your ear. And you feel your third orgasm wash over you, your walls clenching him so tight it feels like you're exploding with how full you are, while his fingers rub your clit all the way through your orgasm.

When the last spasm fades you fall limp on the table and he stops rubbing your clit, but keeps roughly fucking you until he reaches his own release, and you feel his come spill inside you, making you moan again as the hot spurts of his come fill your overstimulated core.

He turns you around, giving you a kiss and gently stroking your hair.

“That's my dirty girl, you took my cock so good.” he takes a washcloth off a shelf and gently wipes you clean.

You lean there against the table, still undressed and dripping wet, while he grabs the rest of the guns he wants, tucking them inside the duffle bag.

“After what we just did I feel like it would be wrong not to offer you a place at the Sanctuary. You would have everything you could possibly want, you would be protected and taken care of, you'd stand at my side and be treated like a queen. And most importantly, we could do what we just did every night. It's all yours if you want it.” you start to dress yourself again, you assume that the Alexandrians are probably getting suspicious at this point.

“I don't know Negan… how would I explain that to Rick and everyone else? What would they think of me if they knew?” you buckle your belt back in place, and fix your hair, trying to make it at least reasonably like it did when you walked in here. As if that would somehow cover up the smell of sex on both of you.

“Does it matter what they think? It's your body, you're free to do whatever you want with it, or let me do whatever I want with it.” he said with a grin. “And you won't have explain shit, I'll do the talking and there's not fuck all Rick can do about it.”

“I don't know. Can I think about it?” you ask.

“Yeah, of course. I'm not forcing you to do anything, and I won't ever. The agreement is completely consensual.” he takes you in his arms again, “I'll be back next week, and you can let me know what you decide then. Until then thanks for the awesome fuck,” he digs in the pocket of his leather jacket and pulls out an extra black leather glove that matches the one on his hand that he fucked you with, and puts it in your hand “And if you just can't wait that long, here's a little something to remember me by. There's a catch though, if you play with yourself wearing this, you have to let me watch next time.” somehow that doesn't sound like a catch to you, but rather a good time.

“Deal” you say, and he kisses you, roughly nipping at your bottom lip when he pulls away.

He grabs his bag of guns and opens the door to a very confused looking Rick, leaving you standing in the armory with his come dipping out of you and his leather glove in your hand.

He shoots you a sexy crooked smirk over his shoulder “See you around sweetheart.”

461 notes · View notes

hope-in-my-bones · 7 years

Text

I'd like to share a little wisdom, if you'll hear it. Or maybe it's not wisdom cuz I smoked quite a bit and feel compelled to share this but anywaus here ya go. My "Adult Life" has been quite an experience thus far. But not in ways I would've expected, say, 5 years ago. I've learned how to do my taxes, for the most part. I've tried alcohol, though I seem to be the only one in the house who much prefers drinking juice and also buys it in gallons. I've discovered a bar that is also an arcade and I now have a place to take my friends out on a late night that's actually fun and they serve root beer. I had my first car, though it was brief. I bought myself a ukulele because I decided I was finally gonna learn to play an instrument and stick with it. I got a couple tattoos, and I really like them. I've picked up my interest in Art again. I'm determined to build a portfolio and aquire new skills, simply because it's FUN. I've listened to my friends tell me about college and how their teacher tells them they're actually gonna be famous one day or they're planning to study abroad. I couldn't be happier for them. I demanded they send me postcards with funny notes or remember to save me a front row seat. While I haven't had the adventure of college just yet (more or less living vicariously through my friends), I have had an interesting period of change and self reflection. Bringing me to a short story I'm about to share. But before I do that, this is in now way meant to convince anyone that there is a single right way to find personal happiness. This is simply an account of how I believe I am finding mine. In 4th grade, I went to a public school that no one would've heard of, and certainly never won any awards for being a great school. I had 2 friends, and spent most of my free time in the nurse's office. I never felt like anything "special," but I had 2 friends and that was good enough. Then one day in Art Class, the teacher gives us an assignment with the book called "Salt in His Shoes." It was colorful book about Michael Jordan. We were asked to recreate a page in the book without tracing. I chose a fairly simple page, he was sitting at a table with his arms crossed and holding a basketball. A few days later when the assignment was finished, I was pretty happy with it. And was certain I would it would look great hanging in the hallways at school. More days pass and in the middle of math, I was called down to the art room. I was absolutely terrified that I had done something wrong. I believe to this day that I had my first real panic attack then. To my great relief, I was completely wrong and the teacher had informed me that between two students, she had chosen my picture out of the whole 4th grade to be featured not only in the school art show, but also the town art show. I was ecstatic. Simply overjoyed. I don't think I ever bragged about anything to my friends as much as I had this particular event. MY ART was going to be seen by EVERYONE because it was GREAT. But while my art was going to be featured in a show, I wasn't going to be there. Mom couldn't take me, and thus I had no way of getting there. I wasn't mad, but rather just a bit sad that I wasn't going to be able to see other people's art nor see that which was physical acknowledgement that I had something beautiful to offer. But I was already well versed in disappointment, and thus thought nothing more of it. Kids are weird. And definitely more complicated than we give them credit for. I often wonder if getting farther away from certain ages is what creates this almost imaginary gap of intelligence that adults believe they have from children. That adults forget what children really know and pick up on simply because they, the adults, have more vocabulary and reasoning to describe their thoughts and actions. This time I was called to the Principal's office. Cue second massive panic attack at the tender age of 8. Unbeknownst to me, Mom made a phone call. Under no obligation or favor did Principal Shirack have to do this. But he offered to pick me up and take me to the art show. The one at school. Looking back on this particular moment, I don't remember how I felt or what I did after leaving his office that day, and the experience was rather visceral at the show. But as I examine the memory further, I am led to the conclusion that standing in front of the picture as it hung on the wall,--parents glancing at it as they looked for their own kid's drawing-- was a defining moment that helped create ME. Someone showed me a kindness that was by no means required. He could never name every child in the school individually, and he certainly didn't know me or my name until then. And yet he created a moment in my life that I will always look fondly upon and remember as an inspiration to be a good person. To be kind. And to help others. He gave me Opportunity. Years later I lost that drive for art, which I regret deeply even now. I developed terrible anxiety and fear of success. Believing that I was the manifestation of failure itself and deserved only such. Making commitments and not following through. Crying from stage fright and vowing to never try again... I found the inspiration again only recently, and I intend to take advantage of it, and yet I asked myself "How? After all this time, why now?" And I'll be damned because the answer was so freakishly simple that if I could kick myself in the shin, I would. I explored. I had no net. I had moved put of my parent's house. No deadlines. No limits. No one to impress. Everything that I described at the beginning of this vignette was something, that the very thought of, made me anxious or uncomfortable. My friends going off to college without me. Doing my taxes which I had never gotten right before. Wondering if alcoholism in my family would effect me too. Making car payments. Never learning how to play an instrument because it's too hard. Not getting tattoos because only a handful of people seem to think that it'll kill me when the amount of ink I want will probably only kill me when I'm already old. Finding a place to take my friends that is fun for both me and them so we're not stuck indoors because I don't have much mode of transportation. These are honestly only a few things that I've grown more confident about. They seem indifferent. But these changes, this new lifestyle that I've accepted, it's taking one day at a time. Living with long term goals achieved by short term success. Getting paychecks. Saving for an apartment. Earning good credit. All these things have made me happier. I don't feel left behind when it comes to things like college. My friends don't expect me to know what they're talking about. There's no longer a pressure to move through life as quickly as possible to achieve the long term retirement we all know and already want. I have less than others, and now I push to be more informed and advocate for what I believe to be morally good and just causes. I spend more time with my pencils because I have fun doing it, and it's no longer "just a distraction." I work till I bleed because every dollar on my paycheck is proof of personal achievement that I never appreciated before. It's made me kinder to people who have even less than I, more patient. If I see a homeless person and I only have a 5 in my wallet, every dollar goes in that little cup because I know what it's like not to have dinner. I don't do these things because I feel that I have to, but because I want to. These things have simply become integrated into my lifestyle because I have widened a perspective that was once just tunnel vision. Graduate high school, graduate college, focus on a job, work till retirement. Never before did I acknowledge the little victories because I was made to believe that my only focus should be on my future self and rather than who I am now. Now I'm sure if you're still reading this, that you've made it this far and you're probably asking "Alright what's your point?" If you have a mental disorder, or you're finding that your life isn't near any kind of fulfillment that you had hoped for by now, please don't be discouraged. Happiness isn't achieved in a day, but it's about building yourself. If you're afraid to do something because you doubt it, I implore you try it with someone you trust. If you're struggling with a class and can't get any of the material right, take a day off. Refresh yourself. Go play a videogame. Sleep. You are more than your grade. And getting one F, or even multiple, does not define you as a person. It sucks, but it's not actually Failure. If you didn't get that one job that you really wanted, that's ok. They don't deserve you anyways. Try something easier to obtain if only for the money itself. If you're worried that you're art isn't good enough because no one liked it when you posted it online, maybe that one like, or reblog you need will come from someone who hasn't made an account yet. They'll find you eventually. If you don't want to pay a bill because it means no food money, then by all means feed yourself. What good is a bill if you're dead? You are the only person who can decide what's best for you. If you make a mistake, you have your whole life to learn from it, however long that is or however long you want it to be. People change. You will change. The future will change with you. Be bold. Be adventurous. Be kind. Be you.

#personal rant #or pep talk #somethin like that #long post

2 notes · View notes

gbenro · 7 years

Text

Customer Care Associate #Vacancy

Bridge International Academies Careers

Customer Care Associate

Customer Care Nigeria, Yaba - Lagos

Apply

Description

Who We Are Bridge International Academies is the world’s largest and fastest-growing chain of primary and pre-primary schools with more than 400 academies and 120,000 pupils in Kenya and Uganda. We democratize the right to succeed by giving families living in poverty access to the high-quality education that will allow their children to live a very different life. We leverage experts, data, and technology in order to standardize and scale every aspect of quality education delivery, from how and where academies are built to how teachers are selected and trained, and how lessons are delivered and monitored for improvement. We are vertically-integrated, tech-enabled, and on our way to profitability. Bridge expects to continue rapid expansion in East Africa, Nigeria and India all through 2016. The Bridge Offer Roughly 2.7 billion people live on less than $2/day. In their communities, there is a huge gap between the education offered and the needs of the population. Too often the schools available to them fail. The quality offered is poor, teachers are unresponsive and occasionally abusive, and fees are expensive. Even “free” government schools can cost anywhere between $2 and $12 per month after all of the additional fees (some sanctioned, some not) are added up. 55% of families end up choosing private schools instead, but then fear for the stability and sustainability of their choice as many schools close after only a few years of service. Both the government schools and the private schools tend to lack well-conceived curriculum, student achievement data, and the capacity to react to that data. Families are actively searching for a better academic alternative. Enter Bridge International Academies. Bridge utilizes a scripted-learning education methodology coupled with 'big data' (all teachers have tablets for instruction, assessment, and data-gathering) that allows us to make curriculum a little better every day. With plans to enroll ten million students ten years from now, Bridge International Academies offers a tremendous opportunity to grow with one of the world’s most exciting, ambitious, and socially conscious companies, with leadership roles available across a number of competencies and geographies. Customer Care At Bridge As the main point of contact for all our callers, Customer Care Department is the voice and face of the company, handling requests, inquiries and a host of other duties that vary depending on the type of issue business. The customer service department plays an important role in the survival and continued functioning Bridge. Although there are many different roles that a customer service department plays, the major role is to ensure that all callers get their issues attended to and escalated to the correct department. The tasks and activities of customer service representatives are directly related to this role About the Role The Customer Care Associate will be responsible for providing quality and efficient customer service to customers. What You Will Do • Respond to, resolve and record all callers’ inquiries & complaints and maintain records of all interactions. • Provide customers with process and service support with regards to all Academy operations, billing information, construction, marketing, curriculum support and IT systems support. • Identify, resolve or escalate all reported issues and complete all call logs. • Research required information using all available resources to offer prompt resolution. • Update the existing databases with changes and the status of each caller / reported issue. • Make timely follow-up calls on initial contacts, to provide feedback and progress on issues raised. • Data entry and maintenance of callers and potential customers’ data bases. • Any other duties as may be assigned from time to time What You Should Have • A diploma in Customer Service, Marketing, Supply Chain Management, Business Management or any related field. • At least two years Customer Care experience, Customer Service or help desk support. • Excellent oral and written communications skills • Customer service oriented, high level of motivation & professional telephone etiquette. • Resilience, ability to function under high pressure environment, dependable, responsible, able to follow specific instructions as well as deliver on commitments. • Excellent verbal and written communication skills- fast and accurate typing. • A responsible & positive attitude, able to comprehend, capture as well as interpret basic & complex caller information. • Excellent people skills, ability to build rapport & relationships with all stakeholders. • Quick decision-making abilities & independence, ability to ‘think on your feet’. • Basic computer knowledge / technological skills, proficiency in Ms office suites, keyboarding skills adept in using search tools, browsers and common email applications • Ability to adapt to change, meet the changing demands of the work environment, work long hours on different shifts across a 24-hr period & weekends. • Ability to multitask, work well as an individual & part of a team; to exhibit objectivity and be open-minded towards the ideas and views of others, give as well as welcome feedback & contribute to team building. You’re also • A detailed doer – You have a track record of getting things done. You’re organized and responsive. You take ownership of every idea you touch and execute it to a fine level of detail, setting targets, engaging others, and doing whatever it takes to get the job done. You can multi-task dozens of such projects at once and never lose sight of the details. Likely, you have some experience in a start-up or other rapid-growth company. • A networking mastermind – You excel at meeting new people and turning them into advocates. You communicate in a clear, conscientious, and effective way in both written and oral speech. You can influence strangers in the course of a single conversation. Allies and colleagues will go to bat for your ideas. • A creative problem-solver – Growing any business from scratch comes with massive and constant challenges. On top of that, Bridge works in volatile, low-resource communities and runs on fees averaging just $6 a month per pupil. You need to be flexible and ready to get everything done effectively, quickly, and affordably with the materials at hand. Every dollar you spend is a dollar our customers, who live on less than $2 a day, will have to pay for. • A customer advocate – Our customers – these families living on less than $2 a day per person – never leave your mind. You know them, get them, have shared a meal with them (or would be happy to in the future). You would never shrink back from shaking a parent’s hand or picking up a crying child, no matter what the person was wearing or looked like. Every decision you make considers their customer benefit, experience, and value. • A life-long learner – You believe you can always do better. You welcome constructive criticism and provide it freely to others. You know you only get better tomorrow when others point out where you’ve missed things or failed today.

Apply

Apply Later

← Back to Current Openings

0 notes