#it was a request access thing only and I knew the teacher (who was white btw) and she was uncomfortable with even allowing me to find the | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saiqherrr · 3 years

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— lunch hours (k. nanami)

.pairing kento nanami x fem!reader

.content warning nsfw, smut, teacherxstudent, age gap, cheating, oral sex (m!receiving), teasing, unprotected sex, mouth covering, semi-rough sex, taunting, (let me know if i missed any!)

.synopsis you've had your eye on your professor for quite some time...

.a/n NANAMI HAS A LITTLE BIT OF A MULLET HERE, requested by the one & only @oonizoomi :smug: LOL. enjoy this. it's short but i just wanted to give my baby nanami some love. i might make a part two to this :shrug:

.wc 2.3k

this was not proof read, but i will be editing, my bad :dead:

NANAMI’S SLACKS were annoyingly crinkled as he plunked down in the cushioned chair that was located in front of the folding table in front of him. he slid off his jacket, revealing the blue dress shirt that was buttoned around his bottom underneath. he was the only teacher on this floor who had a lunch hour at this time, so to his luck, he was able to eat his lunch without the disturbance of teachers conversing with their mouths full about tattle that nanami couldn’t attempt to give a shit about.

on this particular day, nanami was more irritated than usual. things at home were a bit tense; he and his wife were contending reliably about pointless things. the arguments would go on for hours. usually, the two of them would kiss and make up, taking things to the bed to ease their tension, but lately, his wife wasn't in the temperament for it at all. in fact, he felt like she was getting off to it too - touching him whenever he was frustrated, underhanded signals brushing against him, and then stopping abruptly, leaving poor nanami with blue balls.

he thought about his wife as he ate the lunch that she made for him. it was a small salad bowl, filled with a variety of things nanami liked and three rice balls. "she probably poisoned this," nanami whispered to himself underneath his breath. he chewed on his food slowly as he reclined into his seat, placing his elbows on the arms of the chair, his fork close to his mouth. a knock at the door startled him, for no one ever came in here. he grunts as he places his fork down on the table and gets up, huffing with annoyance.

he opened the door and looked down to see you there. standing at 6'0'', he was taller than you by a couple of inches. from his view, he was inevitably presented with the view of your cleavage and busty set of breasts. he gulped when he saw you, trying not to pay too much attention to your chest.

you modestly smiled at him, giving him faux naive eyes that nanami could read through. you did this very often; revealing more skin whenever you got to his class but covering up as soon as you moved onto the next one. nanami noticed it and at first, it bothered him, but after a while, he'd come onto campus in the morning thinking, "what's y/n going to show me today?" and he'd chuckle as he thought about how desperate you were to seduce him.

"may i help you, y/n?" nanami practically had to force the words out as he scanned your body. his ears became hot and the rest of his gaunt face was gradually becoming a slight shade of red. his consciousness was clouded with shame. he shouldn't be getting aroused by a student.

you cocked your head to the side, examining nanami's look. your smile became vexatious as it dawned on you that your mischievous antics were working in your favor. "yeah, actually…" your eyes flickered down to the notebooks and textbook you were holding before flickering back to nanami's eyes. "i'm really having trouble understanding today's concepts…lectures are so hard to follow for me."

nanami sighed before clenching his jaw unnaturally tight. get it together. nanami rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, before running his hand through the hairs that covered the area, reluctant to speak. "um, okay. just-just come in here, we'll talk about it." he stepped back to give you more access into the small room while nanami peered into the hallway, looking from right to left before closing the door.

a loud thud caught him off guard. "oh." you dropped your textbook - purposefully - and bent down in front of nanami to pick it up. your short skirt fell upward, revealing your white, cotton panties that were clearly visible and nanami's eyes widen at the sight. his lips parted and he couldn't even think straight, immaturely not looking away. as you picked up the book, your skirt fell back down and you smoothed it out before placing the big textbook on the table. you gave him those same innocent eyes again and this time it bothered him enough for him to say something about it.

"you put on a terrible facade, ms. l/n," nanami derides.

the words make your ears perk up. "i don't know what you're talking about, professor."

his nostrils flared as he licked his bottom lip and leaned on the door, locking it simultaneously. your eyes darted to the locked door and back to him. "y/n, you barely try to make it discreet." his arousal was causing him to speak recklessly, but he felt little to no shame about it.

you smiled bigger, showing more teeth as you walked closer to him, invading his personal space. you watched the way his chest rose up and fell down, admiring how anxious you made him. you admired everything about him. he was an older guy - which you had a thing for - and he took care of himself. he smelt good, he looked good, skin free of imperfections. his angular face was so attractive you, wishing you could see it buried between your legs, feasting on your pretty cunt. that mullet he had been growing throughout the year fit him perfectly and you hope he’d let it grow longer, too. you held so much power over him that he couldn't realize until now. "is it too much for you?" you murmur, your hand naturally caressing one side of nanami's face, turning it around so that the back of your hand was gliding across it.

nanami's mind went blank as he stared into your big, irises. a bulge was growing in his pants that he couldn't even hide. the pent-up anger and tension he's been holding for the past few days were preventing him from making smart choices.

"it's not enough…" nanami mumbled dreamily before crashing his lips into yours. his lips were soft in contrast to the style in which he kissed you, so rough and so needy. you didn't expect it to be so raunchy, you found nanami to be timider. but you weren't complaining. this was ten times better than what you expected and you mentally congratulated yourself. all that work of showing off in front of your professor paid off.

your lips barely left his lips every time you both broke away to come back to each other like magnets. moans were muted by the connection of your lips, echoing inside one another's mouths. you broke away and started to unbutton nanami's shirt. nanami watched you intently, breathing heavily. once it was fully unbuttoned, your hands snaked up his chest and down again, causing nanami's breath to hitch.

"make this quick," nanami demanded desperately.

you bit your lip, trying to hold back your excitement. you got on your knees, the carpet pressing against your knees, and began to unbuckle his pants. the entire area was hot...all for you. you rubbing him through his boxers, being a bit of a brat until nanami threateningly glared down at you. without a command being given, you pulled down his boxers and his cock damn near sprung out, eager to get milked. you wrapped your hand around it, spreading the stickiness of his pre-cum that sat at his tip across his length. you could feel the prominence of a vein running underneath his cock, sticking out your tongue and licking that specific area. it made nanami's legs weak as he relied on the wall behind him to support him "fuck…"

your lips wrapped around his pulsing head before you pushed yourself down, taking all of him into your mouth, your cheeks becoming hollow. you slobbered over his cock, coating it with your saliva. nanami's hips slowly bucked forward into your mouth against his own will. his tip connected to the rear of your throat, but you had your gag reflex under control. his thigh twitched, feeling like he wasn't getting enough of you. the moans and groans that fled from his lips urged you to satisfy him in the best way possible. anything that got a reaction out of him, you kept doing, you kept him satisfied. your dirty moans vibrated against him, a feeling rippling from his toes that traveled through his entire body. every lick, every suck, was filled with rapture and it all felt like a drug. he needed to be inside of you.

"who knew you could take me so well..." nanami moans. his ovation set a wave of heat down your body. your panties dampened from your drooling cunt. you needed him now. now. you removed your lips from his cock, making a pop sound. you prepped his cock enough. you didn't want to make him cum yet.

you got off your knees and stood on your feet again, kissing him desperately, eyebrows furrowed like you were going to cry. "fuck me, nanami, please…"

nanami didn't have to think twice about doing so. he harshly pulled down your skirt and felt upon the puffy lips of your cunt and you shivered under his touch. he slides your panties aside, making you whimper from the sensitivity, and there was an eager, swollen clit waiting for him. "please…" nanami ignored your pleas, blinded by overwhelming lust as his thumb pressed against your clit, making you weak. nanami impatiently hoisted you onto his waist and pushed you against the wall.

"be quiet, y/n. i don't want to hear you…" while he was being controlled like a puppeteer by such an inexcusable lust, he was very much aware that if someone heard, it'd ruin his life and yours.

with a bit of a struggle, he positioned his tip with your hot entrance before you slid down onto his full length. you let out a silenced moan, mouth agape, and eyes rolled back. he was deep inside your core, stretching out your gummy walls that eventually accumulated to his girth and sucked him in desperately. you felt so good, better than anything he had ever felt. every thought and memory of his wife had vanished from his mind, even as his wedding ring grazed your skin occasionally. nanami began thrusting into your cunt at a steady pace, his skin smacking with yours. he got uncomfortable with this decision, bringing you to the end of the table, laying you on your back before gripping your hips and bouncing you up and down on his shaft. nanami hisses as you clench around him.

"it's...it's too much," you choke out in broken moans. you only said it so he could give it to you more, and it translated perfectly to him because his thrusts suddenly become more vicious. they rocked the table underneath you, he fucked you like it'd be his last time. the moans you had been struggling to hold back were forcing themselves up again, regrettably falling from your mouth.

"shut...up…" nanami grunted. he narrowed his eyes at you, but you weren't even directly looking at him, you were seeing stars. the way he fucked you was almost animalistic. was his wife having menopause or something?

"do you fuck your wife like this?" you taunted. his eyes seemed to grow darker at your words. "does she give it up like this? is she a slut like me?"

nanami took your right hand in his, intertwine your fingers, and slammed it against the table so hard that you couldn't help but cry out. his other hand covered your mouth as he continued to ram into you. "i asked you to shut up…"

at a certain point, he found your g-spot and once he saw your body spazz from hitting it, he didn't take his time to abuse it. your walls were pulsating against his cock, milking him with such greed. "yes...yes...yes…" he whispered over and over. he was getting close to his climax.

"don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," your pleas escaped through the cracks of nanami's fingers.

"fuck," he groaned out. your pussy was addicting. every time he swung his hips out, your core drew him right back into your sore hole. a familiar feeling spawned in your toes that shot straight up to your groin, causing your body to jerk violently as your legs were shaking. you let out a muffled cry, face twisted as you felt your orgasm in every part of your body. he could feel your cum slicking his cock as he continued to violated your walls, fucking you through your orgasm. "i'm so close…" his thrusts became arrhythmic, sloppy, and slow before he put in one last thrust, cumming inside of you, your walls drenched in his cum. nanami saw white and shook against your body as he was buried inside of you. he pulled out, mouth agape and panting heavily. he removed his hand from your face and you gasped for air that he unintentionally blocked off.

nanami took a moment to collect himself, get his thoughts together. he realized he came inside of you and blinked profusely, wondering if this was a wet dream or not. "fuck...fuck, fuck, fuck." he pulled up his boxers and pants and buttoned his shirt, but he was still not situated as proper as he usually was.

"i didn't mean to cum in you." nanami's voice was filled with regret. you stared at him and it finally hit you as well - he came in you. for the most part, nanami had avoided any type of action that held romance or intimacy. he simply wanted to use you as a cum bucket and that was it, however, he came inside of you. nanami was pacing around the room as you were putting your skirt back on. he finally stopped and took a deep breath before turning to you. "are you on the pill?"

you chuckled lightly as you saw the panic in his face. "yes, yes i am."

all that fear was replaced with relief as he breathlessly plopped down into the chair with his hand on his head. "don't speak of this. to anyone."

"of course."

while he did something very wrong and unfaithful, the thought of never doing this with you again didn't even step foot into his mind. whatever it was about you, he had to have it again. he figured keeping you around wouldn't be too bad - and securing your trust with a bribe would do no harm either.

"you suck in this course so, i'll keep your grade up," nanami says before you get ready to walk out the door. you half-smile and felt heat rising up to your cheeks. "as long as we get to do this sometime again."

#nanami imagine #nanami x you #kento nanami #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jjk kento #nanami smut #nanami headcanons #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen

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fandomfix13 · 3 years

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Should've Been You - JJ Maybank X Reader

Should’ve Been You - JJ Maybank X Reader

Y/N finds herself in a rough situation with Rafe and JJ steps in and makes Y/N realize it should’ve been JJ all along

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Slight violence in relationships, Lots of swearing, underage drinking (pls be safe!), Some pretty cute fluff

FIRST THING I'M POSTING SO GO EASY ON ME! I'M WORKING ON REQUESTS AS WE SPEAK!

XOXO

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You sat in the kitchen with Sarah and John B while you waited for Rafe to finish getting ready. It had been 45 minutes since you had first sat down with them, and Rafe still seemed to be taking his sweet ass time.

“Jesus, I thought I took forever to get ready.” Sarah huffed as she sat back and entangled herself in John B’s arms. You loved how comfortable and cute they were with each other. It had been a long time since you felt that way with Rafe. It’s not that you were necessarily uncomfortable with Rafe, but things didn’t feel the same as they used too. “Guys thanks for waiting with me, but you guys should really get going, I don’t want us to make you late.” you said as you saw the time. “Are you sure? We can wait, I'm sure he’ll be done soon.” Sarah said.

You shot John B a look that said ‘go’ without having to say it. “Yeah, Sarah she's right we really should get going.” he says as he takes her hand to stand up. You mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ to John B and he nodded in return as you walked toward the couch. As the two of them walked out the door, John B slipped back in telling Sarah he ‘forgot something’.

“Hey are you gonna be okay?” He said walking over to you on the couch. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” you said in a tone that was too rushed and sounded nervous. “Because I’ve known you since you were six years old and that look that you gave me was your ‘get the hell out’ look” he laughed. “I don’t have a ‘get the hell out’ look!” you mocked him. “Oh you absolutely do and you gave it to me. Is everything okay? With you and Rafe?” He knew you too well, there was no hiding anything from him. “Yeah. He’s just….being Rafe.” you shrugged not feeling the need to go into detail. “Y/n?” he said sitting down next to you. “John B?” you returned not giving him the satisfaction of knowing what's on your mind. “You’re not gonna budge are you?” he said, looking right at you. “Not even a little.You really need to get going. You wouldn’t want to miss you and Sarah’s big entrance would you?” You said walking toward the door with John B following close behind you, you turned around to see John B giving you his ‘tell me what’s going on’ look. You opened the door once again telling him to leave. This time he had accepted his fate and walked out the door. “If you need anything, we’re all gonna be there tonight. Okay?” he quickly added. “Okaaayy.” you sighed, “now go!”

You closed the door and started walking back to the couch when you heard the sound of Rafe’s bedroom door open. As he came down the stairs you noticed something wasn’t right which in the moment you chose to ignore. That was until he came up from behind you in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around you and started kissing your neck. You didn’t mind that kind of attention but this wasn’t like him. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and as you turned to confront him about it you saw his eyes. They were glossed over and dilated. His hands were shaking on your waist and there was residue of white powder under his nose. “Next time? You might want to look in fucking mirror after you snort coke off your bathroom counter.” You said with the calmest tone you could possibly have at the moment.

He rolled his eyes at you and turned around walking towards the door to leave. “Rafe we talked about this!” you yelled after him “No! YOU talked about this. I just sat there while you ran your mouth as usual!” He stopped in his tracks to turn around and yell right back. “You know how important tonight is! Could you not even have the decency to show up sober and get fucked up later?!” You hated when he got like this. So messed up that he was an asshole to everyone and anyone is his presence including you. “Tonight is important for my DAD! It’s not important to me! He probably doesn’t even want me there! Sarah’s there, that's all he cares about. So sue me for wanting to show up already gone.” part of you felt bad for him in a way. It hurt to see him struggle, but it also hurt to fight him on it. “Rafe we need to go. We are going to miss our entrance which is just going to piss your dad off more.” you tried to be calm. “Oh right, our entrance! Yeah I’m sure that everyone is going to be so thrilled to see me walk in with a fucking pogue!” he said in such a demeaning tone that you hadn’t heard before. You were taken aback by the words that just came out of his mouth. You always had a thought in the back of your mind that Raph didn’t like that you hung around with the pogues, but you never expected him to really say it. “Wow. Okay. Um. I’m not doing this with you right now. We have a party to get to.” You say making your way to walk past him and out the door. He tried to stop you by reaching out for your arm but you quickly pulled away. “Y/n wait.” “Don’t fucking touch me right now. We need to leave.”

As you arrived at the event you plastered on the biggest smile you could as you held Rafe’s hand and walked in greeting all the guests that approached the two of you. Old teachers, business owners and their plastic wives, old friends. All people that you truly did not care too see. You looked around the crowded room for any one of your friends to appear to provide you with a sense of normalcy. You spotted Kie standing with her parents also shaking hands with people she clearly had no interest in seeing. JJ was waiting for the guests. Pope was helping his dad with the food. John B and Sarah were outside secluding themselves from the socialite society that was this room, and you were standing hand in hand with Rafe who just 15 minutes ago was throwing insults at you.

You walked outside to John B and Sarah who were talking about how ridiculous some of the guests look in their outfits. “Hey if you two get to hide out here, so do I” You say approaching them from behind. “Trouble in paradise?” John B said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Just needed some air. The overwhelming smell of chanel number five and expensive champagne was starting to give me a headache.” You said only slightly joking. You all shared a laugh and you made your over to stand with your friends. “Drinks?” Sarah asked. You and John B both nodded without hesitation. “I’ll be right back” she said as she walked off the porch. “So.” John B said slowly turning his head towards you. “So.” you replied. “What are you really doing out here?” he said knowing that the excuse you gave was only half true. “Rafe just said some shit to me about being a pogue before we left.” you admitted. “I’m sorry, are you surprised?” he said with an attitude. “John B please don't be an asshole right now.” “Alright, okay I’m sorry. He didn’t... hurt you did he?” he said with concern in his voice. “No. He wouldn’t. He can be a dick I’ll admit, but he wouldn’t hurt me.” As you said this Sarah approached the two of you once again holding three beers. You sit there just the three of you, for a good 15 minutes before you thought you should probably go find Rafe. Not that he wanted to be seen with a pogue, but you should at least pretend like you weren’t beyond pissed at him.

As you walked through the crowded room saying your ‘hello’s’ here and there you realized Rafe was nowhere to be found. Your first thought was maybe he left. But then you realized that he wouldn’t leave a party that had so much alcohol and access to expensive drugs. You walked past JJ who was carrying a tray of champagne. “Hey J, have you seen Rafe?” you said following in his trail of champagne drop offs. “I try to never see him at all, so no I have not.” he said in his usual smart ass tone. “Ok. What about Topper?” he laughed “Considering I put a gun to his head I absolutely make it a point to not see him either.” you opened your mouth to speak again and he cut you off “Don’t ask about Kelce either. I haven’t seen them around anywhere. My guess is that they are in the bathroom making bets on who goes home with the hottest girl tonight.” You rolled your eyes at him and walked to the hallway where the bathrooms were. It was empty. While there was nobody in sight, you could hear the boys in the locker room.

Just as you decided to walk away, Topper stumbled out of the locker room. To say you were surprised to see him obviously fucked up would be a lie. You tried to quickly walk the other way so he wouldn’t see you, but you weren’t fast enough. “Were you stalking us Y/n?” Slurred Topper. God they sucked when they got like this. “Stalking you? Please. I have better things to do than stalk you. I was just looking for Rafe.” you said trying to ignore Topper’s attitude. “Rafe! Your pogue princess is out here lurking in the hallway waiting for you!” he yelled back into the locker room. You rolled your eyes at Topper’s label he put on you and waited for Rafe to come out of the locker room. He appeared almost instantly looking even worse than he did before. He was sweating, from the amount of alcohol in his system, and his eyes were beyond bloodshot.

“Jesus Rafe you look like shit. I left you for 15 fucking minutes! You look like you just went on a 3 day bender.” you spat out at him as he walked towards you. “And what are you gonna do about it?” He said cornering you. “I’m going home.” you said as you brushed past him. He grabbed your hand, harder than he tried to back at the house. “Oh come on Y/n, I’m just having a little fun. Don’t you wanna have fun?” he pulled you close to him whispering in your ear as he talked. “Fun? No. This isn’t fun. YOU aren’t fun when you’re like this.” you said trying to escape the tight grip he had on you. “Let go Rafe.” you said calmly. He started backing you up into the corner again, this time with a look in his eyes that you had never seen before. “You don’t want to have fun with me?” He said as he started to kiss your neck. “Rafe. Stop. We aren’t doing this here.” your voice was shaky. The way Rafe was acting was scary. All you could think about was all the warnings your friends tried to give you that you just ignored. Rafe was still nipping at your neck while running his hands through your hair. “Rafe get off. Im serious.” You said a little louder this time hoping that someone would hear. You could tell where this was going and you weren’t about to let that happen. “Rafe!” you yelled this time attempting to shove him off of you. As you started to shove, Rafe was pulled off of you. JJ.

“She said get off asshole!” JJ yelled as he swung at Rafe’s face. Great just what you needed. A scene at the biggest most formal party of the year. Rafe was not one to be messed with especially in the state he was in. Then again, neither was JJ. “JJ! Don’t!” you yelled really not wanting to see either one of them get hurt. Rafe swung back at JJ, and he swung hard. Fists were flying all over the place. JJ’s nose was bleeding, Rafe’s eye was swollen, but they just kept going. You knew that you should honestly just let them hash it out, but if you let them continue, one of them was really going to hurt. Plus, knowing JJ, he could’ve had the gun with him. “Guys! Stop! Please don’t do this!” as you stepped in in attempts to break up the fight, you felt Rafe’s elbow come in direct contact with your eye. “Holy shit! Y/n I didn’t-” rafe stopped as he was cut off by another punch to the jaw from JJ. “Do you feel like a big boy! Do you feel good now that you just gave her a black eye?! Fuck you bro! Fuck-” “JJ! STOP! I’m fine really. I swear just stop.” you yelled interjecting once again. The rage in JJ’s eyes was something you’d only seen in movies. “Jj look at me.” you tried getting him to look at you so you could break him out of the state of aggression he was in. Rafe stood back in shock that he really just hit you. It may have been an accident, but it wasn’t something that you were going to forget. JJ was right, you were most definitely going to have a black eye. “Jj.” you grabbed his hand and he directed his attention towards you as you pulled him away from Rafe.

“Y/n I really-” Rafe began as you turned around and got in his face cutting him off almost instantly. “No. You don’t get to talk to me anymore. If you would’ve just backed off when I told you too we wouldn’t be in this situation at all. You’re dangerous, and I cant do this anymore. We’re done Rafe. I’m done!” You said almost crying. You were so overwhelmed by what had just happened that your emotions were about to explode. “I’m dangerous? How about your little pogue friend over there? Huh? He put a gun to Topper’s head!” he shot back. JJ looked as if he could’ve thrown another punch at Rafe at any minute. “Well my ‘little pogue friend’ didn’t just punch me in the face did he?! You did. You got so fucked up that you couldn’t even chill out for 1 second! JJ put a gun to Topper’s head because if he didn’t you were going to let Topper drown John B. So yeah, you’re dangerous.” this time you were angry. As all the emotions ran through your body, there was no control over which ones were going to appear.

“Alright, fine! If you wanna be a bitch about this, be a bitch. I should’ve known better than to fuck around with a pogue.” he said is one of the most arrogant tones you had ever heard. You got as close as you could to Rafe so he could see the tears pooling in your eyes. You don’t know where it came from, but you raised your hand and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. JJ instantly came up from behind you and grabbed you by your waist as he pulled you back in fear that Rafe would swing for you on purpose this time. “Don’t you EVER call me a bitch EVER again, or I swear to god next time a gun is pulled on you, the trigger will be too!” you spat at him. You honestly don’t know where those words came from, but the thing that scared you is that you meant it. “Is that a threat?” Rafe said quietly as he stepped toward you. JJ pulled you back and told Rafe to back up while he whispered to you to relax. “You bet your ass it is.” JJ started walking the two of you away from Rafe as Rafe decided to speak up once again. “You’re fucking crazy!” he yelled down the hallway at you. You laughed with tears now streaming down your face. You turned around and looked him dead in the eyes. “And who’s fault do you think that is?” with that you and JJ walked out of the hallway and outside the nearest door you could find. You needed air, and you needed it fast.

JJ opened the closest door to outside that he could find and the second the cool outside air hit you, you fell to the ground and broke out into uncontrolled sobs. You always had a feeling that Rafe would end up breaking things off with the two of you but you never thought it would go down like that. JJ just stood there eyes wide. He had seen you upset before, but he had never seen you like this. You were broken. You sat there in the sand sobbing and mumbling a string of ‘oh my gods’ and ‘whys’ and you couldn’t stop. JJ kneeled down and just pulled you to his chest just holding you. He didn’t say a word, he just let you cry. The way he held you calmed you down little by little so you could at least catch your breath again. You looked up at him and gave him a little smile as he grabbed your face and you winced at the feeling of his finger resting underneath your swollen eye. “You need ice on this ASAP. I’m going to go get you some.” he said, sounding concerned as he stood up again. You nodded as he walked off but yelled out before he went inside “JJ. wait!” He stopped in his tracks and looked back at you. “If you see the others in there, please don’t say anything!” you cried. You didn’t need everyone knowing about this right now. If they knew now, they would cause a scene and ruin the night. You were going to tell them you just needed to process what the hell just happened. He nodded and went inside.

As you sat outside by yourself who just tried your hardest to breathe. Your heart was racing and you just needed to slow it down. You laid down in the sand and looked up at the stars and looked for the north star because you remembered Sarah saying “everything revolves around it” and that brought you a sense of comfort. Just as you found it JJ came back outside with ice for your eye. You sat back up and looked out at the water as he sat down next to you. He put his arm around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. The tears were still flowing but you weren’t crying anymore. The two of you sat in silence sighing back and forth. “I’m sorry for not stepping in sooner.” he said looking straight ahead. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just thankful you did.” you returned reliving the moment with Rafe in your head. His kisses on your neck were getting more aggressive, he was pulling your hair, his hands were wandering off to places that you didn’t want them to go. You started to cry again. “I was so scared JJ.” you buried your face in his shoulder once again letting small sobs out that you tried to hold back. “Shhh. I know. I know. It’s okay.” he was holding you again, his hand rubbing circles on your back. “He’s such an asshole! I feel like such an idiot! You all warned me about him! You all told me how awful he was and I just thought maybe you were wrong! I didn’t listen and I should’ve!” JJ shook his head and looked you in the eye “Hey stop. We knew he’s an asshole, that's a given, but the way he treated you tonight isn’t okay. It’s not your fault and you need to know that.” your head fell back to his shoulder and he laid his head on yours just before gently kissing your forehead.

You both just sat there in silence once again so you could catch your breath. “You know, you got pretty badass in there. That thing you said about pulling the trigger was intense.” JJ chuckled. You laughed a little at the thought of JJ thinking you were a badass. “The scary thing is, is I think I meant it.” you looked up at him. “Oh I know you meant it.” you both laughed. “You deserve better than him.” You looked up at him and slightly smiled at his comment. “I mean it. You deserve so much better. You have a lot to offer and people who can’t see that don’t deserve you.” something about this moment was different. As much as you loved JJ, you could both admit that he never said things that nice to anybody. “Thank you.” you said, smiling at him. He just nodded and looked back out at the water. “I’m sorry about all the shit I said about you and Rafe when you were with him. I should’ve just let you be happy, and for that I’m sorry.” He said, still looking out at the water. “It’s okay.” you said in awe that JJ maybank was actually apologizing for something. “No it’s not, I should have just supported you, but instead I just ran my mouth because in all honesty I was just jealous.” he rambled. “What?” you questioned. He was now looking away from you off in the distance. “I couldn’t stand seeing you with him. All I could think about was how much I wanted it to be me. Which is ridiculous and not a good reason to make you feel bad.” your heart started beating fast again, but this time in a good way. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you got no response. “JJ please look at me.” he looked at you and you noticed his eyes were pooled with tears. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey you shouldn’t be with him because you should be with me?’ I couldn’t say anything because I love you. And if I said that to you I would lose you. And that would hurt much worse than holding it in.” you looked at him in a way that you hadn’t looked at him before. He had never been this open with you about anything. There was a moment of silence before you did something you did not expect to do. You reached up and placed your hand on his cheek as you leaned in and kissed him. It was slow and sweet. It was nice. You opened your eyes to see his eyes on yours right as he kissed you back, placing his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. “It always should’ve been you.” You said before you sealed the moment with another kiss.

#jj maybank #obx fanfiction #obx x reader #obx #rudy pankow #imagine #obx imagine #one shot #fluff #rafe cameron #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #drew starkey #outer banks #john b #sarah cameron #outer banks imagine

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tenthgrove · 3 years

Note

Can I request LS with a new team mate who's stand is a lot like toga himiko ( from MHA! ) this characters ability piqued my interest quite a lot and wondered how it'd function as a stand!

Basically they can transform into a physical lookalike of another individual ( victim ) and copy their voice as well ! and use their own enemies/foes stand against them though they need to ingest their blood first before they could do any of that stuff! ( not to mention the more blood ingested the longer they have access to the certain victims form. )

Bodysnatcher

La Squadra x Reader (GN), Platonic/Romantic, SFW

Formaggio- His main appreciation for your stand is that Formaggio is a fan of anything that can be described as 'awesome' or 'wicked.' Impersonation is a neat enough trick as it is, but the blood-drinking thing just elevates it to a whole new level of epic. He loves watching you work your tricks, though he has to sit out to avoid ruining the ruse through his own excitement. Watching your tracks spring as you turn the target's own allies against them is always well worth it.

Illuso- Both your stands rely heavily on doubt and deception. It's perfect. Though slightly perturbed early on at the loss of his niche, Illuso quickly comes to admire you and your similarities. Playing tricks on your targets gives you both great pleasure, especially as they slowly start to doubt their own minds. Illuso's favourite is to trap a target in the mirror world until they give in to despair, then have you appear disguised as the target's ally, only to lead them to their ends.

Prosciutto- Risotto often puts the two of you together because your stands complement each other well. When attempting to kill a large number of targets you can isolate one to impersonate, then lure the rest into one place with your disguise so Grateful Dead can activate. You get a few bags of ice down your shirt of course. Prosciutto appreciates your help because it makes his kills a great deal more efficient, as well as a demonstration of your courage to drop yourself right in to the target's mercy.

Pesci- He gets a bit nervous when on missions with you because it involves a lot of acting, something he isn't confidant with. He's always afraid something about his body language will give away that you aren't really who you say you are, so he tries to excuse himself from assisting you. Still, he can help with getting the blood you need. If nothing else, Pesci is confidant in his use of Beach Boy.

Melone- He adores stands like this. The planning, the deception, it's all so perfect. You're often instructed to assist him on missions since your deception can make the process of creating a junior easier and safer. He loves watching the way you adopt all these different forms and manipulate them flawlessly to achieve your goals. It's very attractive, if he's going to be honest. Want to meet up sometime after work?

Ghiaccio- Surprisingly, there is one important use of your stand to Ghiaccio's missions. One of White Album's biggest weaknesses is that it is highly conspicuous, and often leads to high news coverage when used without careful planning. Your ability can be used for misdirection, causing chaos elsewhere to divert potential witnesses away from White Album's rampage without compromising your own identity. Ghiaccio appreciates not having to hold back for a change.

Risotto- La Squadra's Capo is highly stringent when it comes to selecting new members to his team, but you were an easy choice. Risotto knew his team could really use more stealth, and you were top of the class in that regard. Your aid could be of great help in several of the team's modus operandi, and you're a good assassin in your own right. Risotto is grateful to welcome you into the team with open arms.

Sorbet and Gelato- Despite all your strengths as a member of the team there is one disadvantage that Risotto asks the couple to remedy. Your stand is not in itself deadly, and given the calibre of work the team is used for you'll need to be a master of non-supernatural assassination methods if you're going to make do with such a stand. That's where Sorbet and Gelato come in. But don't worry, they're actually very generous teachers.

#la squadra #la squadra x reader #la squadra di esecuzione #formaggio #formaggio x reader #illuso #illuso x reader #prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #pesci #pesci x reader #melone #melone x reader #ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #risotto nero #risotto nero x reader #sorbet and gelato #sorbet and gelato x reader

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

Text

Learning Styles - [Reid x Reader]

Summary: Reader has worked hard to get to the FBI, but a misunderstanding has her feeling insecure.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Content Warning: Mention of normal criminal minds stuff briefly.

A/n: I got these two requests and they were so similar I decided to combine them. I hope that’s okay, but I feel like the stories would have been almost identical.

Requests: - I have a fic suggestion. Reader pretends to be dumb but is actually really smart. I’m thinking of that quote about marilyn ”you have to be really smart to pretend to be dumb”. One day spencer realizes that reader is smarter than she lets people know.

- Hi! Can I request a spencer reid x reader fic where reader isn't great with numbers but brilliant with behaviour and humanities (i.e. literature, history, sociology, up to you)? Maybe a dash of insecurity to spice things up?

-- Learning Styles --

My favorite professor in college told me that everyone learns differently; what works for one person won’t work in the same way for another. We are all different human beings that are shaped in different ways.

I had always been oddly insecure about my intelligence level. One of my earliest memories was my mother yelling at me while I sat at the kitchen table when I was in first grade. I was the only kid in my class who still hadn’t learned how to read. I just didn’t understand. All of my friends were progressing so much quicker than me and my mother was losing patience.

It wasn’t until my grandmother stepped in that everything changed. My elementary school teacher was training children to read by memorizing sight words, a concept I didn’t understand. When my grandmother sat down and taught me phonics. I distinctly remember everything snapping into place.

I was in 1st grade and reading at a 7th-grade level by Christmas. Once I finally understood my learning style, I really began to thrive.

But no matter what I did, I could still hear my mother yelling at me, telling me I was stupid.

In my line of work, I see just how much the throw away comments that parents make can shape a child’s development. Luckily, those comments just made me a bit insecure, not a murderer.

Up until I was 22, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do beyond this desire I had to help people. SSA David Rossi had come to guest lecture in one of my abnormal psych classes during undergrad. After I heard him speak, I was done. I couldn’t have done anything else with my life. I had obtained my master’s in psychology before I joined the FBI.

It took some time, but I was finally assigned to the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. I was so excited on my first day that I remember my hands physically shaking.

Until they weren’t.

I can still remember my first day so clearly. SSA Hotchner had introduced me to the team, saving the “best” for last.

“And this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he had said. “He’s our expert on…well, everything.”

Reid was my age and he had his Ph.D. I remember feeling awed by him.

Until I didn’t.

"I hold 3 Ph.D.'s in Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics. I also have BAs in psychology and sociology."

I remember my jaw almost hitting the floor. While I was impressed by him, I wasn’t insecure about my place on the team.

Until I was.

My grandmother may have helped me master reading, which opened the door to me mastering anything else I put my mind to…except math.

I was fine at statistics, luckily. You couldn’t get a psych degree without a ton of statistics work. But statistics was different, I could see the practical use of statistics. I just couldn’t wrap my head around calculus or algebra.

On my first case with the team, Reid had calculated some insane mathematical equations on the whiteboard, running down the probabilities and applying a mathematical formula to the unsub’s behavior.

It wasn't until later, after the case was solved when I was standing in front of the whiteboard that my confidence was hit. Reid had come into the room and saw me looking at his work.

“Don’t bother trying to understand it,” he had said. “You’d have to be a genius to understand what I do.”

I didn’t have a word to describe the feeling that settled in my stomach at his words, I wasn’t sure such a word existed. The feeling was cold and heavy, but also made my body burn with shame.

I had just offered him a tight smile before I left the room.

On the plane home I had made a decision. I was no match for Dr. Reid, I doubt anyone was. So, I would take myself out of the competition. I couldn’t get hurt if I wasn’t playing the game.

And that is how the next year of my life went. I allowed Dr. Reid to explain things to me that I was an expert in, never saying a word. I acted like I didn't understand concepts that I had written papers on. The only thing I didn't dumb down was my profiling skills. Those were necessary for my job and for saving lives.

I don’t think anyone realized what I was doing.

Until they did.

The team had been called to Colorado to assist in capturing a serial rapist.

All of our cases bothered me, every last one…but something about ones with this vile element really struck me.

We had the unsub’s name, Tyler Childress. He had spent time in prison for sexual assault and burglary. It seems while he was in prison, he spent time perfecting his methods; it was only by pure luck that we found his fingerprint inside the victim’s house, making him the main suspect.

When we paid Mr. Childress a visit, he had managed to get the drop on Prentiss and Morgan, allowing them to escape. Morgan was furious.

All of us were sitting around a conference table in the local prescient while we let Dr. Reid talk.

I was trying to be calm, I was, but my nails were digging into my palm so deeply I was worried I was about to draw blood.

“Guys,” the expert on everything said. “He has to have some sort of accomplice.”

Rossi just sighed. “But the profile doesn’t point to him being the sort to do well with others; he’s a narcissist.”

Reid wouldn’t budge. “I know that, but he isn’t intelligent enough to pull this off alone. He’s just not. He had an IQ test done when he was 20. He scored in the mentally handicapped range. I’m telling you he has to have help.”

“Are you sure, Reid?” Hotch asked.

“Positive. I have his results right here.”

“IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence on their own.”

I was so startled that someone had contradicted Dr. Reid that it took me a second to realize it was me who had contradicted him.

He turned to face me; his brown eyes wide. “What?”

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence.”

Dr. Reid laughed. He laughed at me like my comment was funny. “I don’t know where you heard that,” he began.

But I interrupted him. "IQ tests are classist and oftentimes racist. The man who invented the IQ test never intended for it to be used as a complete measure of intelligence. He regretted making the test.”

Reid sputtered. “You…it’s not racist!”

“Yes. It. Is.” I ground out. “If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be illegal to administer an IQ test to a black child in the state of California.”

"Wait, it's illegal to do that?" JJ asked, her brows drawn together.

"Yes. There was a court case in the 1970s over it. Teachers were using tests to separate white children from black children. The black children were put into special education classes they didn’t need to be in. Just because the teachers didn’t want those children in their classrooms.”

I should have stopped, but I was on a role. “They’re also inherently classist. How can you expect a child to answer a question about Romeo and Juliet if they haven’t heard of it?”

That had Dr. Reid scoffing. “Everyone has heard of it.”

I shot to my feet, unable to hold back anymore. “No, they haven’t. Children in underfunded schools that don’t have access to resources might not have heard about the most famous play in history because their school wasn’t able to provide the materials to teach them about it. There was a study done in a remote part of Russia right after the IQ test was invented. Every. Single. Person. Scored in the mentally handicapped range. Because they didn’t understand.”

I knew my voice was rising but I couldn’t stop myself. “Once the researcher took the questions and applied them to things they understood, they all scored as above average. They didn’t understand math as an abstract concept, but they understood it when it was applied to their businesses, to something they actually knew about.”

I cleared my throat. “The test isn’t fair, it’s not equal. Tyler Childress didn’t go to a good school and he didn’t have a stable home life. You can’t use one measure to calculate his intelligence. He’s gotten away with 7 assaults so far that we know of. He’s not stupid.”

The entire room was silent once I had stopped speaking. I couldn’t bring myself to regret it though. What kind of person was I if I played dumb because I was afraid of being mocked when a monster was out there attacking women? No, those women deserved to have me at my best.

And I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t give it to them.

Rossi spoke first, his eyes twinkling when he looked at me. “Took you long enough,” he said. “But y/n is right. We trust the profile; we don’t let personal bias cloud the way. That’s how we catch this bastard.”

Later that day, we were cleaning up the conference room while the local police processed Tyler Childress.

Pathological narcissism is a complex disorder, but we followed the profile and Rossi was right. Hotch set up a press conference in which JJ and Prentiss took center stage. They tore Childress’s ego to shreds on live television.

His narcissism wouldn’t allow that to slide. He got angry, he made a mistake, and we got him before anyone else got hurt.

While the cat was out of the bag about my intelligence and that made me nervous, I couldn't regret any of it. I got to be the one to tell our last victim that we got him. I got to hug her while she cried because now that he was locked up, she felt like her healing could begin. I wasn’t sure if my rant about structural racism and the classism of IQ tests actually helped anything, but that didn’t really matter. There was one less monster in the shadows.

Today was a good day.

I was alone in the conference room, untacking photos from the evidence board when I heard someone clear their throat from behind me. I turned my head to meet the wide, honey brown eyes of Dr. Spencer Reid.

Oh boy, I thought. “What’s up, Reid?”

He shifted from foot to foot, his hands twisting in front of him before he crossed his arms over his chest. “I asked Garcia to look into you.”

My eyebrows drew together. “I’m pretty sure any nefarious things I had done would have popped up on my initial background check.”

“Right, I didn’t mean like that,” he mumbled, the apples of his cheeks turning pink. “I asked her to look into you academically.”

Shit.

He went on. “You double majored in psychology and sociology before you got a master’s in cultural psychology. She pulled your thesis. I just read it.”

“I see.” I turned my attention back to the board.

“You also guest lecture on cross-cultural psychology at Georgetown several times a year. And you’ve co-authored two papers since I’ve known you.”

Meh, it’s three. But that doesn’t matter. “Did you read those too?”

I took his silence as confirmation.

He was so quiet I almost thought he had left, but the crackle of energy I felt in the air told me he hadn’t. “Do you need something, Dr. Reid?”

"Why didn't you get your Ph.D.?"

I had answered that question many, many times. “I didn’t need a doctorate to do what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to waste time. Once I figured out what I wanted, I charged at it.” Which was a far more honest answer than most people got about that from me.

“W-why did you pretend to be dumb?” he rasped out, causing me to look back at him. “32 days ago, you let me explain the long-term effects of gerrymandering and the complex causes of poverty.”

“Of course, I did,” I said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“One of the papers you authored was about generational poverty.”

“Just because I know a lot about something doesn’t mean I can stop listening to information. That sort of thinking breeds ignorance.” I smiled, unable to not tease him just a little bit.

Reid took a step closer to me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I just shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t have a good answer.”

In all the months I had known him, Spencer Reid had never touched me, not even so much as a finger brushing against mine when he handed me something. That fact is why I was so startled when I felt his hand on my upper arm, turning me towards him.

He licked his lips, his eyes darting around. “Did everyone else know?”

I shook my head, my teasing mood long gone. "No. I mean, clearly, Rossi suspected but…No, I didn't tell anyone else."

“I just don’t understand. You’re brilliant.”

I scoffed. “No, I’m not. I’m decent a psychology, sociology, stuff like that. I can’t apply math to behavior to find patterns. I can’t even calculate how much something is gonna cost when it’s on sale without a calculator half the time.”

‘What do you…” Reid trailed off. “Wait. The very first case. You were looking at the evidence board.”

Goddamn eidetic memory.

The boy wonder was on a roll now. “I told you that you’d have to…is that why you didn’t tell me?”

What else could I do? I just nodded.

Those brown eyes closed, and he let out a groan. “I said that because I thought you were going to…I was worried…” He huffed out a breath and opened his eyes. “I wanted you to like me. I didn’t want you to think I was just a nerd.”

Now I was confused. “Why?”

Spencer Reid’s blush went all the way down his neck. “Well…I just…Morgan said I should just talk to you. But I’m not…I’m not good at that. I panic, then I start to ramble. Like I’m doing now…”

“Reid,” I interrupted. “I’m not playing dumb now. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I like you,” he blurted out right before he smacked both of his hands over his face. “Oh my god. I sound like a child.” I thought I heard him mutter idiot under his breath. “Emily says that my IQ gets slashed to 60 whenever I see a pretty girl.”

Much like that moment all those years ago when I was a child, I felt everything click into place. Oh.

I couldn't suppress my smile any longer. I rose up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Well, we've already gone over how IQ tests aren't a good measure of overall intelligence."

With that, I quickly stepped away and hurried out of the conference room, leaving a stunned genius in my wake. When I turned back to look at him, I saw his fingers brushing over the place where my lips had just been.

Permeant Taglist : @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool @andiebeaword @imjusthereformggcontent @rainsong01 @violentvulgarvolatile @mys2425 @al3xmnd @imfalling-inlove @cielo1984 @shadyladyperfection @kissingvalentino

comment/message to be added 😊

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fan Fiction #Spencer Reid fan fiction #Spencer Reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer read x y/n #Dr. Spencer reid #dr. reid

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jeranasblog · 3 years

Text

You are mine

A while ago someone asked me: “Hi i would like to request about teen tony having sexual crush on his feminine teacher, peter. And it came true when tony was in detention “

I thought this was about Peter being a woman, but another sweet person told me: “ I’m a different person but I think by feminine they meant has feminine features but is still male.” and they might be right. So here it is:

Warning: E, student-teacher, feminization, rimming, A/B/O, heat, maybe dubcon?

~*~

Tony knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop himself from watching the most beautiful omega he had ever seen. He was a few years older than Tony, with sinfully pink lips and curly brown hair. The omega’s skin was pale, perfect for Tony to suck his marks onto, and Tony only had to close his eyes to imagine how he would look with Tony’s bite on his neck. He wanted to watch the omega every day, wanted to see his smile, make him happy while he was bouncing on Tony’s knot.

God! Usually Tony would have already approached the omega by now. He wasn’t shy, quite the opposite, he was the cockiest alpha at school, but unfortunately, the omega wasn’t just anyone. Unfortunately, the omega was Mr. Parker, a substitute teacher at Avengers High, a high school only for alphas.

The first time Mr. Parker had entered Tony’s classroom in the middle of the school year, dressed in an appropriate skirt for omegas and a white blouse, Tony had been growling. The scent had been overwhelming, inviting the alpha to claim the beautiful omega with his bashful looks and the small smile for his students.

It had been a true test of Tony’s self-restraint not to snarl at anyone who received a smile from the omega, from Tony’s omega, but he managed to hold back. Barely. Because Mr. Parker wasn’t only the most beautiful omega Tony had ever seen, he was also teaching Tony’s favorite subject, physics, and the alpha decided to prove his intelligence first before he would woo his future mate.

Mr. Parker wasn’t unaffected, Tony could see the lingering stares every time the omega thought no one was watching. He could see the beautiful blush on the teacher’s face when Tony proved his intelligence, again and again, showing real interest and asking complicated questions. Usually, Tony didn’t participate in class, it wasn’t as if he didn’t know the things already, but for Mr. Parker, Tony would show what he was capable of.

Waiting turned out to be a nightmare, especially when Tony found out that Mr. Parker was only twenty-two. He overheard two teachers talking about the omega, doubting that he was already qualified at such a young age, but the school needed every help they could get. So Tony gritted his teeth and breathed through his mouth, resisting the overwhelming temptation, and showing the omega what a good alpha he could be. A patient alpha. At least until the day Tony finally turned 18. He was legal now, no one could say anything if they lost their control and mated, even though the omega was his teacher.

It was the day after Tony’s 18th birthday, a Monday, that his plan to woo his future mate finally played out. Tony had figured out the detention schedule a few days in advance. Today, Mr. Parker would have to supervise the detention hour and it was the perfect situation to convince the omega that they fit together perfectly.

Tony knew he had to provoke a teacher to get detention, but he couldn’t bring himself to act out in his omega’s presence. Instead, he faked falling asleep in Mr. Fury’s class and immediately earned what he had hoped for. Detention with Mr. Parker.

The omega was already in the classroom when Tony entered and greeted the alpha with a small smile. It was a hardship for Tony not to jump him immediately because Mr. Parker was even prettier than usual. He wore a skirt again, a few inches shorter than usual, and his cheeks were sinfully red. Tony wanted to fuck his omega right the fuck now, but he focused to keep himself in check. Not yet. He could hold back.

His resolve lasted until Tony took a deep breath. The smell was heavenly, sweet, ripe… Heat! His omega was close to his heat!

It was the moment Tony’s self-control shattered. He had wanted to wait until the end of the hour, until the omega was already squirming under Tony’s hungry stares. Tony had wanted to take it slow, maybe a kiss and a few touches. But the overwhelming scent of his mate in heat let his alpha side lose.

Luckily, no one else has gotten detention apart from Tony so they didn’t have an audience when Tony jumped at his omega and bent him over the desk. Mr. Parker was immediately whimpering like a perfect little omega slut, not once trying to break Tony’s hold.

“God, you can’t imagine how much I want you, Mr. Parker,” Tony growled into his omega’s ear, his hands already pushing up the skirt to get better access to his omega’s dripping hole.

“P-Peter, call m-me Peter, please.”

It was every invitation Tony needed. Dropping on his knees behind his omega, Tony bared Peter’s ass, a plump little sin that was wrapped in lace heat panties. Tony took a second to admire the view before he pushed the fabric aside so he could finally taste his omega for the first time.

Whatever Tony had expected Peter to taste like, the reality was better. It was like dipping his tongue in a pot of melted warm apple pie, sweet and heavy, inviting Tony to dive in. He licked around the hole, pushing his tongue in once in a while and savoring the delicious taste of his omega.

“Ngh- Alpha, please, need you. Knot me, fuck me.” What a demanding little thing.

Tony could have done it for hours. His omega was dripping all over the floor, slick running down his thighs and ruining the skirt Peter was wearing. He made sinful little noises, soft moans, needy whimpers, and when Tony suddenly pushed one finger alongside his tongue, he even earned a cry.

The moment Peter started to beg and cry for his knot, Tony knew his omega was close. As much as he wanted to hear his omega’s sweet little voice when Peter came, Tony didn’t want to mount his omega at school. And there was no chance he could hold back on fucking Peter if he let the omega come now.

“Come home with me, Omega,” Tony said while he pulled the skirt back down again. “Let me fuck and claim you in my bed. I’m gonna make you mine.”

Peter didn’t even need a second to decide. With a docile nod, he took Tony’s hand and followed him to the alpha’s car. An hour later, Tony put a mating bite on his teacher’s neck.

#starker

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wondersofdreaming · 3 years

Text

Dangerous Attraction

Characters: August Walker (POV) x female reader (3rd person)

Word count: 1.109

Warnings: Cussing. Vulgar language. Age-gap. Dangerous mission. Mentions of sex.

Author’s note: This was a request by @iinvisiblewings - I hope you like it <3

“Hey I’ve done the survey ❤️ could I get a little piece with August Walker ? Kinda like an age gap thing but where the reader is 20 and August is his age 🥺🥺the rest is up to you I love your work.”

Special thanks goes to:

@viking-raider for your piece of advice <3

@iloveyouyen for reading it and helping with the edit <3

And a big thank you to @radaofrivia for helping with the plot, the editing, the inspiration, the motivation, and the encouragement! <3

Gif by @littlefreya <3

Divider by @firefly-graphics from this post

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

“Agent Walker? You have a new mission.”

One of his co-workers put a manila envelope on his desk.

“No briefing?”

The agent shook his head and left the office before he could be interrogated further. Everyone knew about August’s methods. Cold, brutal, and act first, ask questions later.

He grabbed the envelope and ripped it open. Inside was one piece of paper.

“Find information about John Lark and his connection to the Apostles. Use any means necessary.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

August moved with designated steps towards the IT-department. He stomped directly over to Michael Smith, the head of the IT.

“Smith, I need a hacker,” he demanded.

“Walker, to hack what exactly?” Smith asked perplexed, not taking his concentrated eyes from the computer monitor. August watched as a string of numbers were reflected in the glasses.

“Pentagon.”

The entire room silenced. You would have been able to hear a needle being dropped to the hardwood floor.

“And why do you need access to the Pentagon?”

“Mission.”

Smith nodded. He turned around towards his personal laptop. After connecting it to the wireless printer, he handed a piece of paper to August.

“These are the top 5 hackers I know of, best in the country. Number 1 might even be the best in the world. No one knows who that person is, so you might want to use some of the others. There’s a bit of info on some of them.”

August hummed his inappreciation for the lack of information. He walked with determined strides towards the exit, already having made up his mind to find the top hacker on the list, PH03N1X.

The last place August ever thought of to find the world’s best hacker was at Harvard University. He adjusted his tie, and with a purposeful mindset he stalked down the hallways of the prestigious university.

It had taken nearly a month’s search to find PH03N1X. Having only gotten a lead that the person in question was a physics-student of Harvard. No mentions of gender, name, age, nor family.

August arrived at the physics labs and entered without permission. The teacher was sitting in his adjourned office, while the students were working on different assignments.

One student, in particular, caught August’s eye. She sat in the corner of the room with not one, not two, but three computers filled with physics formulas and equations, and was that a black hole? A little white device sat next to her, hooked up to a fourth mini computer. He slowly crept up to her, looking over her shoulder as she punched in the results of her research.

“Quite the experiment you’re working on… PH03N1X,” he whispered in her ear. Her back shot straight up, hitting her head on his broad chest, while a loud gasp left her soft lips.

She moved her upper body slowly to meet with the one person, who just revealed her secret identity. Hoping, no praying, that none of the other students had heard him, she smacked her palm over his moustache covered mouth.

“Shhhhhh!”

August smirked. He nodded towards the open doors that lead outside. She removed her hand, saved and closed the four computers and pocketed the little device.

They walked towards a nearby park, away from prying eyes and attentive ears. She was on her phone the entire walk there, tapping on it so fast he felt dizzy watching.

“How did you find out?” She asked, nervously fiddling with her jacket.

“It took some time, but you showed your face to one guy, and he cracked under pressure like an egg.”

She sighed in defeat.

“I’m going to strangle him,” her voice strained, obviously thinking of how she could get revenge on the blabbermouth.

August chuckled. He liked this feisty female.

“How old are you?”

“20. Why?”

“Curiosity.”

An elderly couple walked past them, giving them weird looks. She quickly grabbed his arm, hugging his bulging bicep. He tensed his muscle so she could feel how massive he really was.

“Hmm. What is it that you want, Agent Walker?” She didn’t sound impressed by his antics.

He stopped in his tracks. She waved her phone at him, a picture of him and all his personal information underneath.

“Your help,” he answered shortly.

“With what?”

“Pentagon.”

She whipped her head back at him. Shock clearly painted on her face. Then a broad smile slowly spread on her lips. Her eyes sparkled with intrigue and excitement.

“I’m in.”

It took a week before they could plan out the big hack. August made sure it was at a safe place, and the house filled to the brim with the latest technology. She searched through all the equipment to look for someone who might be watching.

“What do you want me to do?” She asked.

“Delete all content about John Lark and the Apostles.”

“That’s going to take some time, Walker.”

He leaned over her, whispering seductively in her ear.

“Better hurry up, Tinkerbell, ‘cause we don’t have much time.”

“Then stop interrupting me, old man,” she told him through gritted teeth. He noticed she closed her legs and sat up straighter, squaring her shoulders, making her breast jump at the movement.

August’s eyes widened. He liked the spunk of this woman. He was even thinking of using her physics skills to his advantage.

He moved to sit on the sofa and opened his computer.

It was time to write his manifesto and rid the world of the illness infecting it.

“When all this is over, I might even make a real woman out of you and make you mine,” he told her nonchalantly.

He heard the crash of a chair. She had stood from her space and stomped over to him. She gently removed his laptop before she moved between his legs to tower over him.

“Listen here, geezer, I will never, ever, become yours or spread my legs for you. I am my own woman. I do not belong to anyone, especially not you. After this is over, you will leave me alone, and we will forget this ever happened.”

She moved to go back to her station, but August grabbed her wrist.

“You’re wrong to think that you are the one in control, Tink. Before this mission is over, you will, willingly, come to my bed and beg for me to fuck you into oblivion,” the smile on his chiselled face, he could see it annoyed her. He released her hand and watched as she stiffly went back to the computers.

“How about a deal?” She asked.

“Listening.”

“You don’t ‘fuck me into oblivion’, and I don’t tell the world you’re John Lark.”

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #August Walker #henry cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x female reader #henry x reader #henry x female reader #Dangerous Attraction #My story #Short story

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (10/17)

Summary: “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: This took a while. I had this written out for a while, I just spent a good amount of brain cells trying to figure out where to cut this. It’s almost done actually. I’m expecting like (at the most) 5 more chapters so maybe I can get it done by the end of March if I muster up the courage and the effort to do all the final revisions to the last few chapters.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Other Chapters:1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Link to cross-postings: AO3

As Levi soon found out, Hange kept a folder online tagged ‘Levi Ackerman.’

The oldest pictures were dated more than three years ago and the first had been one of his cool down after his performance at his first tournament. There was variety in the pictures and they covered everything, all the way from warming up on the bench, positioning himself to run and those few moments right after launching himself in the air to the peak of his jump. She had even snuck pictures of his interviews.

The first time he opened it, he had first checked the dates to make sure he hadn’t been dreaming or assuming she of all people had been a fan. The weirdly strong emotions he had felt at the realization of the existence of such a folder had only made him all the more vulnerable and the last thing he had wanted to do was an act on an illusion or trick of the mind.

The experiences he had on the field clearing jump after jump had become routine over the five year period. Despite the changes among the faces in the crowd, the cheers that had only been getting louder and louder and of course, the oval that changed with the venue, sometimes the only thing Levi did remember was the blue sky staring him down and gravity pulling from behind.

Maybe that was why he had ended up in a state of disbelief the first time she had shown it to him.

How did you not notice her? Levi was sure he wouldn’t have anyway. She was a stranger, one stranger in a crowd of people. Although she may have been one unchanging face in a crowd of thousands of changing faces, she was still a stranger to him. And strangers just tended to blend in more easily.

A valid point. Yet the regret and frustration were still fresh inside him despite it having been weeks since she first gave him access to that folder

She had first showed it to him the morning after that eventful night, after having dealt with a hungover Nanaba. It was only in the evening that day after Hange had escorted her three friends to the station did she sit next to him on the bed and scroll through the pictures herself with Levi right beside her. Naturally, she was still hesitant to show that side of her, she scrolled a bit too slow at times, while a bit too fast at other times.

For a while their roles were reversed and Levi found himself prodding Hange for more details. Eventually, she did share the link to the folder in exchange for links to his story and Levi was quick to comply. They were both exposed anyway, there was no need for any more secrets between them. Only one condition that had seemed a little too frivolous at first glance, yet somehow Levi understood it.

Hange requested that he go through the pictures when she wasn’t around. And soon after she requested it, Levi realized he preferred that too. Despite the fact that he did trust her not to judge whatever she may find on the folders, there still existed an uneasiness at baring one’s heart out to someone in words one couldn’t control anymore having written the stories out too long ago.

Consequently, he requested the same thing from her. Do not read it while I’m around. When he told her the stories, he at least had control of his tones, his diction and the packaging of the overall story. Watching her read them, he knew he would find himself doubting the words he had written while at the same time vacillating between decisions to correct his previous writings or let her read. The constant self consciousness that came with the second option had just been too stressful of a prospect. He decided himself, he would rather have full control of the exposition or none at all.

The decision to have no control and no input, to be absent when he bares his heart out was not easy to make. And he continued to feel the traces of that struggle in the way he so easily lost focus and ended up mindlessly scrolling through the folder. His mind had shifted to other things more specifically the prospect of whether or not Hange was doing the same thing then and there.

She was only a phone call away. He could ask. But it had just seemed idiotic. Of course she wouldn’t be checking on it, she had been cramming for an exam that morning in between preparing for her mid semester thesis presentation. She hadn’t even bothered to say any greeting but an ‘I’ll follow’ before he left for the therapist that morning.

He looked through the messages in the waiting room, and up at the time displayed on the upper right part of the screen.

9:43. She was still in the middle of her exam. She won’t be checking on it.

Levi looked at the ceiling above him, allowing the plain white view above him to ease him back to his reality. How long had he been staring at the phone? He closely felt for the aches and discomforts around his body. The dull soreness that made itself known as he stared up at the white ceiling above him only served as a reminder that he had been a little too exposed to quick scrolls and the unnatural glare of his phone for a potentially unhealthy amount of time.

It was his first physical therapy session and Hange had pointed out that he should be early just in case. Consequently, he had shown up at 8:30 for a session at ten.

Just in case you get lost. Just in case there is paperwork which still needs to be filled. Hange would have done the paperwork already. He had ended up clocking that little doubt and that need for a little prophylactic thinking to caution on their end. First times tended to make people a little more cautious. And more importantly, what else was there to do on a Saturday morning other than sleep in?

Either way, that long wait had left him with eyes a little too tired yet at the same time, he was bored out of his wits. He looked around the waiting room finding something else to entertain himself with.

I only have seventeen more minutes to kill. It shouldn’t be too hard.

The atmosphere of the waiting room was nothing like getting lost in nature or on the road. It was stark white, bleak and a little too rehearsed. In other words, it lacked dynamic and consequently. it was too boring to find any amusement in. Of course, they wouldn’t want to stress out any patients with anything too fancy or overwhelming. Yet, the only thing which Levi could have found worth giving more than a passing thought to were the people around him.

And only when Levi started focusing instead on the people and not on the off-white plastered walls of the waiting room, he somehow was able to distract himself from the dragging motions of time.

There was an old man with a knee brace. A middle aged man with an arm in a sling and a girl with a casted right leg. There were others who could have passed up for nothing more than a visitor, until they stood up and Levi noticed in their gait the slight hesitancy to put one foot in front of the other. A small detail which Levi probably wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t looking for it then.

As he preoccupied himself and reflected over the small details that could have told stories of the people around him, that natural reflection to one own’s self had him a little too focused, a little too fixated.

The door to the waiting room slammed behind him and the trance disappeared as quickly as it came and as silently as a bubble that had just been popped.

Levi found himself irritably following the sound of the footsteps that came right after the slam of the door. It reverberated across the quiet and tense room, so loudly that if Levi did look around him, he would have realized he wasn’t the only one who had been so abruptly disturbed by it.

“Aaaand... My rounds are over for today,” The man said looking not at all guilty for that rude awakening. He wouldn’t have known anyway, and as Levi looked towards the front where the man had settled by the nurse’s desk, he might just have been the only one in the room rudely awakened by that sound.

“Ah, Doctor Jaeger, That was quick,” the nurse commented a little too pleasantly for Levi’s taste.

“Not too busy of a morning.” The man said, or as Levi soon deduced, was Mr. Jaeger. He recognized that irritating voice and as he looked up at the man, taking in the gruff features, the blond hair and beard and the rounded glasses, he quickly grasped for the name.

Zeke Jaeger. He hadn’t even said the name out loud just yet, but somehow he tasted venom. Levi though had enough awareness of his surroundings and his own ability to quickly yet correctly guess names to have kept silent. Regardless, he continued to watch as Zeke lowered his voice, possibly whispering something about going out for a drink and some dinner with the nurse in front of him. He found himself silently judging that audacious invasion of privacy as Zeke looked over at whatever paper was on the teacher’s desk.

Ackerman?

If Levi had actually been a little more aware of his surroundings, he would have realized Zeke did not at all say the name loud enough for him to hear. It was the result of Levi having watched too closely as Zeke enunciated those syllables, having noticed as the nurse made eye contact with him and having heard peppers of conversations about a jumper and an injury.

“Oh… An Ackerman? Who does high jumps?.” Zeke confirmed it himself, as he once again spoke a few decibels louder, obviously with the intention of making himself heard.

It wasn’t anything new. The past few months, Levi started to realize that at the least, many people in the local scene were familiar with him.

“My brother’s best friend is an Ackerman too and she started jumping recently.”

“I don’t have any relatives who jump,” Levi answered, in an attempt to shoot that attempt of a friendly interaction down.

Zeke stared at him, looking surprised. “You sure? With how quickly she picked it up, I thought she should have been related to you.”

Levi kept silent, making no effort to look open at all to conversation. Somehow, Zeke didn’t seem to get the hint.

“She’s been sweeping their interhigh competitions since the start of autumn… With the pace at which she’s going, she might even replace you.”

Levi had gotten used to those types of comments, hearing them as whispers the few times he went out, seeing them on a few forums as people discussed his injuries. He shouldn’t have been at all bothered by the statement, having shifted his attention in life to things which weren’t jumping

The blond man in front of him had been crass and blunt and Levi was starting to feel the beginnings of a bad mood. The irritability only worsened even as Levi tuned out the blond doctor. His mind went elsewhere, as he instead decided to seethe silently at the insensitivity of that statement.

A Tale of Two Slaves

Eventually Levi did get a break from that one-sided conversation. But the countdown to that break was slow and painful. He only noticed as he struggled under the trappings of that long and excruciating wait how long it really took for minutes to count down on a digital clock.

An eternity could have passed before Levi was called from the waiting room. As soon as the clock struck ten, Levi could not help but be more than slightly annoyed that she had been late.

If you’re early then you’re on time. If you’re on time, then you’re late. Any other day, Levi would have acknowledged the hypocrisy of that statement since although he was always early to training, he was never that religious when it came to academics. Having just bounced back from such an excruciating exchange with Zeke though, everything had just been pissing him off more than necessary.

It was almost remarkable how he managed to nod in return at the woman who met him at the exit of the waiting room. But Levi soon realized, as the anger quickly dissipated from inside him, she seemed like an old friend more than a stranger and like for all people, as long as there was history between them, he could save a little more patience points.

The woman who helped him up and led him to the room ahead was shorter than him yet had a way of handling herself that made Levi guess that she was at the least, a university student.

Levi didn’t need to guess anything else. Somehow, her name, her personality and the familiarity had all been somewhere in his head.

She cocked her head to one side in greeting and spoke up. “You can call me---”

“Petra,” Levi said. Somehow, he just knew her name. He had been inclined to complete that statement, only to make more real the nagging feeling in his head as soon as he had noticed her enter the room.

Petra’s eyes widened in shock. “Yes, how did you know?”

“It’s on your nametag,” Levi answered almost automatically, thanking the heavens she was wearing a nametag.

“Yeah, my bad. I get a little absent minded at times,” Petra patted her own head and gave Levi a wry smile.

Petra was hospitable. And when Levi thought that exact statement, he couldn't help but think how the word 'hospitable' had fit her so well. It was in her presence. She had this special talent, of finding ways at least to add color to the stark white hospital walls and the overly sanitized tiled floors underneath.

It could have been the tone or it could have been her word choice as she rattled off what could have been an outline of his physical therapy regime. As Levi did figure out, it could possibly have been the unique enthusiasm she had towards the whole patient recovery process

"So you're my physical therapist?" Levi asked. He never really did pick up what she was saying. He had heard enough about leg raises, timings on when to remove casts and knee bends that he at least guessed she knew enough about them to be one.

Petra though was quick to shake her head. "No actually. After college, I have plans of taking the exam. Then after that, I’ll be a physical therapist. I’m just taking advantage of this internship to learn more about the occupation.”

“It suits you,” Levi said. He kept his own comments brief. At that point, he did start to lose a little bit of awareness of his surroundings. His thoughts flew slowly back to his dreams.

Those first two encounters in the hospital had been two missing puzzle pieces. The stories had been an incomplete puzzle set of words and pictures and as he put it all together in his head, he couldn’t help but note how vivid the memories actually were. It took all his strength not to react, not to bolt out then and there, and go back home, to fill in the gaps on his laptop.

He put two names on his phone.

Zeke Jaeger. Petra Ral. Levi could have sworn there was more to remember and to write about.

And who did Zeke mention then? The other Ackerman? The other jumper?

The dreams were faint, as faint as the image an incomplete puzzle would make. Some parts were clear and vivid like a scenery behind a newly cleaned window. Others were hazy, his mind having filled up those gaps with blurry images. But the other Ackerman was there, and she moved fast enough to justify those blurs in the scene. Back when they fought the war, she flew in those cables much faster than he and Hange had.

I am strong. I am stronger than all of you.

A Tale of Two Slaves

The pain that came with his first physical therapy session was excruciating and it only served to further aggravate the anguish and his eagerness to get home before the sceneries in his head faded into faint memories of something else.

He managed at least to keep himself in a good in-between, by repeating the mantra of that other Ackerman to himself as he went through each and every exercise.

They had started off slow, as slow as a walk in the park maybe, a few stretches here and there. While doing some of the stretches and the warm ups, he did wonder if he had attended the right therapy session. Some of the warm up exercises had nothing to do with his knee after all.

The actual challenge came when Petra and the physical therapist he had failed to get the name of, had him sit down. As soon as Petra unwrapped the brace and pulled it from underneath him, Levi felt the weight of his injury almost instantly. It didn’t help at all that he was looking right at it.

“We’re going to try bending it a bit. Maybe put some weight on it if we have some extra time” The physical therapist’s words felt ominous.

The surgical scars and the healed wounds on his knees from more than two months ago only served to rattle Levi a little more. He had avoided looking at the scars many times before during meetings with Erwin and Hange. The few times Hange did pull and prod at it, he had it stretched out on some pillow.

It was fragile. And it felt unnatural. There in front of him then, it was dangling from the exam table, gravity pulling it down from underneath. Levi swore that if he tried hard enough he probably could imagine it completely disconnecting from his body at that moment. And maybe if he did move it, attempt to stand up without the confines of a knee brace as support, it might just fall off.

“Hey, it happens to the best of us,” Petra said.

No, it doesn’t happen to the best of us. In the room at least, there were at least five other people struggling to do something so simple as to bend a knee. But Levi could have sworn, in the outside world he was surrounded by people who wouldn’t think twice about bending their knee.

“Just bend it as far as you feel comfortable.” Bullshit directions. Levi had to admit, he wasn’t comfortable having it bend at all. Just the sensation of having it dangle so easily in the air, at the mercy of gravity underneath was already unsettling.

Was it a challenge then? To get it to bend as far as he could?

The directions of the therapist were flawed and Levi naturally opted for a flawed response as well. The process of bending his knee had been slow and excruciating. Levi found himself closing his eyes a few times, finding some sort of a rhythm in the faint sounds of the heater in the room, the murmurs from all the way across the room.

Or maybe a mantra? From someone a little too familiar. I am strong. Stronger than all of you. Another Ackerman.

And the way Zeke had mentioned it was grating. Was it a challenge? A threat? Was it supposed to be pushing him to go further?

It could have been Zeke or it could have been that phantom Ackerman that had been a motivation at that moment. But something then had Levi’s heart racing, his mind going in circles.

I’m strong too. I’ll get out of this rut. He thought to himself, a weak yet still effective act of protest. It worked both as a catalyst for a burst of motivation and an odd source of rhythm. The flexibility of bending came in slow, steady but continued attempts. The rush of adrenaline came halfway through.

A few minutes later, he was sweating and maybe he had been shaking a bit before that. When Petra had mentioned the optimistic progress and the plan to at least attempt to put weight on his bum knee, Levi was quick to comply.

And maybe a little too reckless. They had least helped him next to a wall, a good place at least to lean his body in the off chance he did lose control.

“One foot forward then one back.” The therapist guided.

As he watched the therapist simulate that same position, Levi quickly followed suit. He remembered, he had put some weight on his leg. Back then the brace had kept his knee stable.

At that moment, the brace was off, and it would be his bum knee, exhausted from the prior exercises taking the full weight.

I’m strong. Levi repeated to himself. Bending wasn’t an issue before. He had been bending his knees, possibly before he even knew how to walk. It should have been nothing, The excitement of a while ago, the adrenaline rush, pushed him further. It had him so seamlessly balancing the weight from the back of his foot, to the foot in front.

And maybe his knee had been bending farther in, the weight of his body on it. Somewhere along the way he did start to feel the beginnings of a dull pain.

I’m strong. To keep going, Levi had to find an escape. Stronger than all of you. It was easy at least, to leave the movements to his procedural memory as he distracted himself with his own musings, willing himself not to forget what he had wished to write down.

Where did they all fit? The Beast Titan… The Survey Corps… The War… The Alliance?

“Levi, I’m sorry I’m late. The test ended later than I expected…” She came as a faint voice, but Levi was too far gone to hear it.

He had only felt her presence then, when the physical therapist called a break, when he had collapsed on the floor in exhaustion, his knee throbbing, his breaths coming in heaves. He only realized she had been watching for a good long while when he looked up to see the concern etched in her face as he caught her gaze.

“I’m fine…” He at least managed to say that much before he closed his eyes, allowing that few minutes of rest to gather his thoughts and steady his breaths.

“You shouldn’t have pushed yourself too hard. This is just your first session,” Hange said from right next to him.

He still had enough energy to process those words at least.

A Tale of Two Slaves

That night, Levi gripped his dream catcher a little tighter and pressed it close to the back of his phone as he scrolled through google links on the other Ackerman.

It hadn’t been hard to find her at all. Zeke’s tirade that morning had been more than a guide enough.

High school. Ackerman. High Jump. Those were the only three keywords he needed to figure out the whole name of that missing Ackerman. For a moment, he had expected to find his own articles, and had braced himself for the pain of sifting through old articles about himself in between looking at hers.

It turned out Mikasa Ackerman had been the talk of the high school high jumping scene for a while, and she had been the topic of at least 90% of the articles he was scrolling through on Google.

A few times they did allude to the other Ackerman. The older articles heralded her as a successor to the rookie Levi Ackerman, the newer ones that were dated past his injury called her the brand new Ackerman, a replacement.

A replacement to damaged goods. Levi had to add that part himself, an attempt to make a joke out of his shitty situation as he closed that last article. “Mikasa Ackerman,” Levi repeated those words so quietly to himself as he dropped the dreamcatcher haphazardly onto the table in front of him. It had been useless at that moment. Or maybe at the least it had been the reason he felt a little too frustrated at having looked through too many articles that evening.

He looked to Hange who was sitting on the dining table, looking deep in thought on something on her laptop. Mid semester presentations for her thesis proposal were coming up, along with a few new exams next week. She had been conscious enough to point that out at least and Levi happily gave her the space she needed.

The turmoil inside him at first seemed difficult to pacify. Just watching Hange so focused and deep in thought had helped somehow quell whatever unresolved tensions and feelings were settling in his stomach then.

Maybe if he talked to her, the tensions might just disappear altogether. Levi deemed it worth the effort at least. “Hange? You okay?” He asked

Hange’s head shot up and she looked straight at him almost instantly. “Sorry, how long were you calling me? I’ve just been a little too focused on my exam on Monday and the thesis presentations on Wednesday… I don’t think I’ve been in the right mind for a while…”

Levi saw it in the way she looked at him, she hadn’t been focusing on his eyes. It was as if she were still probably seeing whatever words or numbers she was studying. She had been like that the past week since the line up of the thesis presentations were released along with the midterms schedules for all the exams.

Their kiss, their one night in the bedroom almost forgotten. Levi was sure though there was something that had been bothering her, maybe something that extended beyond academics.

I can ask about that after finals. Levi thought to himself, pushing aside that bout of concern. He could start with a light question at least, which didn’t involve Hange too much. “Have you heard of Mikasa Ackerman?”

“Mikasa Ackerman? The high school high jumper?” Hange asked. “Maybe I have been following her too… Lately...”

“She’s really good apparently.”

“Her jumping positions reminded me a lot of yours, so she had been fun to watch. I always did want to ask… Is she related to you? I did some research but I don’t see much which connect you both other than a few articles comparing you as jumpers and maybe speculating a relationship.”

Levi shook his head. “I never heard of her… Until today… A doctor mentioned her back in the hospital before my therapy session.”

“She only started making waves last month when her school made it to the regional competitions. No one really follows the district and the interschools… And apparently she only started jumping recently, during summer and she only started breaking records during the regionals,” Hange said. “That is… According to what I’ve read up on her.”

“So, you have been following her?”

“I still watch videos during study breaks,” Hange admitted. “And she just broke a few records a few weeks ago, of course they’d show up in my feed.”

“And you didn’t feel the need to ask me about it before? About an Ackerman doing the same jumping positions I did? You didn’t want to talk about it?”

“I thought of asking you about it maybe after exams. Besides, do you want to talk about jumping? After everything that happened?”

Levi put his phone down beside him and looked up at the ceiling above him. Of course he wouldn’t have heard of her until then, he had purged himself of all track and field news since the injury. The tournament with Nanaba and Mike and the round of research on Mikasa have been two exceptions and the feelings after that had only reminded him why he had spent his days actively making the effort not to think of the life he used to have. "I told you I'm fine," he said. He half meant that part at least, the writing had helped.

"No you aren't.”

Levi found himself shocked by how certain Hange’s tone had been. And for a second, maybe he had been a little irritated at the audacity of it all. Who was she to assume how he felt? But the surprise and the irritability had him silent and listening. Hange always had a reason for her conclusions. She never made assumptions so easily, he had known her enough lifetimes to be sure of that.

“There's a certain sadness to knowing you can't do what you used to before.” Hange continued. “I think everyone feels it, even a bit."

"A certain... sadness?" Levi asked.

"Wait, that does sound vague... Lemme think of an example." Hange paused for a second, looking up in thought. "Like maybe if you imagine people who’ve been skating or people who've been playing instruments their whole childhood. When they stop training or practicing these things altogether, these people can feel themselves lose their motor skills or their thinking skills that got them jumping double axels or playing arpeggios or pulling off vibratos like they’re second nature. And when they come back to it years later, I’m sure everyone feels the sadness or some sort of a frustration, looking back at their old self and processing the realization that they can’t bring their body or their mind to do something as effortlessly as they had done it many years before. Processing how they ended up so weak, so stupid after abandoning their old passions for so long."

“What if I’m an exception?” Levi challenged, still a little annoyed at such an assumption and at such a long unsettling tirade.

Hange shook her head. “You’re not. For a while, I wanted to entertain the possibility that maybe you and I are exceptions, maybe we can easily jump from one passion to another. When I was watching you during therapy though. I saw the terror in your eyes, the frustration, the sadness. ‘Why isn’t my body moving the same way it used to?’ Maybe you don’t want to think back to jumping because you don’t want to see how quickly your body has forgotten the motions, how quickly it had lost the flexibility and the strength to carry you over the two meter bars…” Hange trailed off. She avoided his gaze and for a while she had been staring at the blank wall in front of her. For a second after that, she did look to him, and there was a glint of realization in that. Realization at what she had just implied possibly. "But you know what, you might just be an exception. Maybe I’m just projecting." Hange added a second later.

Levi was sure though from the quick change of tone that accompanied those last words that Hange probably didn't mean it. On top of that, having heard Hange's small lecture, Levi almost immediately realized he wasn't at all an exception.

Her voice had been light as she mentioned that last sentence. It could have been a thoughtless comment. Hange didn’t make too many thoughtless comments though. “Projecting?” Levi asked.

Hange let out a short light laugh “I’m talking too much, I should go back to work…” Her words seemed like a band-aid, a lazy coverup for whatever emotions had supported such a tirade in the first place.

Projecting? There was a reason behind that word use and Levi was more than eager to press on it.

Hange wasn’t listening anymore though. She was buried once again in whatever subject she had chosen to study for that night. She was in work mode again and she had gotten back to that mode as quickly as she had fallen out of it.

All questions can wait until after her exam week. Levi told himself. The word ‘projecting’ had stayed though. Hange’s words had left its mark and maybe it did have Levi reflecting on his own feelings, his own fear and his own frustrations at his regressing skills, the painful awareness of his body that was slowly forgetting the motions he had built over years. At the end of that tunnel of reflection, he did end up thinking back to that word.

Projecting. She had to be feeling something for herself to say something like that right?

Hange what are you projecting?

And that at least distracted Levi enough, enough for him to ignore the dull pain in his left knee, channel his focus elsewhere. The next few days, having been left alone in the apartment while Hange went about classes, lab work and library visits, Levi did manage to channel his energies to academics or to filling his gaps in his own stories: Levi Special Squad, the Beast Titan and something about some new rookies in the survey corps.

The pain in his knee never left though. It was nagging and annoying like a cavity. It was a pain Levi had assumed would disappear in time. His left knee had always been painful since the injury.

Yet, maybe his left knee had started to get a little frustrated at Levi’s negligence. Maybe it had started to get angry. It was a creature and Levi soon realized, it was a monster that demanded attention.

The night it demanded his attention so stubbornly, so angrily., it did it through sharp pains that coursed through him like bolts of electricity, it did it through a crushing sensation that left Levi almost unable to breathe.

And maybe it did have Levi hallucinating----Or could it have been dreaming--- of having saved one of his soldiers from being eaten by a titan.

A Tale of Two Slaves

“Connie!

“Captain!”

In his dreams, he had been too out of breath, or maybe a little too distracted to have reacted at the crushing pain that had spread through him like bolts of lightning. The dream was hazy that Levi doubted whether he had been completely rooted in anything or not.

He had been flying. He had been in pain. And he had been pushing past the pain, slicing at a titan in every direction. And when he had seen one of his soldiers unconscious, about to be eaten by a titan, he had jumped in between the titan and the soldier so instinctively, so desperately that the in-between had been a blur. He found himself in the midst of an excruciatingly painful ordeal. He gritted his teeth, biting back any attempt to scream. For god knows if he screamed, he might just run out of energy, he might just pass out.

When he woke up to the dark room though, he processed almost naturally the fact that the circumstances his reality had offered him were different. The view in the middle of the night, the faint sound of cars had been different. He wasn’t in a battle field and as if his body had been completely aware of that, it did push past his attempts to subdue any reaction.

Even before he realized it though, he had been screaming. Only when his throat burned and the sounds faded into a whimper, only when the tears started to run down his face, only when he closed his eyes and keeled over, a pathetic reaction to the bombardment of stimuli, did Levi realize the pain of having his leg almost bitten off by a titan was still there.

“Levi! I’m here. What’s going on? Are you okay?” Hange was right next to him. Beyond the pain, that was all he could process.

Hange hadn’t been there in the dream. God knows where Hange had been when he was flying from titan to titan. God knows where Hange had been when he found himself, jumping in between his fellow soldier and the titan that had lunged to eat him.

And god, it was painful. Even past the dream, even when he started to realize that Hange was right next to him at least in the dark room at 3am. The pain stayed and it was crushing his knee, it was leaving him unable to even take any sort of a decent breath, his own coping mechanism reduced to ragged breaths in between tears.

“Levi, breathe…”

How pathetic where his own breaths sounding for Hange to have to coach him like that?

“Oh god, Levi, we might have to get you to a hospital?”

How pathetic did he look for Hange to have to suggest a hospital visit? When she helped him up at least, when she slung her free arm over his shoulder and helped him to a sitting position, he did at least feel the unnatural weight on his left knee. What was going on?

Everything after that, came as a hazy dream. As hazy as the fight against the many unnatural looking titans. In that dream, Hange had been absent for some reason he could not yet comprehend. And Levi found himself trying to push it away, instead focusing on the Hange in front of him who had put a blanket over him, who had dialed a number on her phone and who was rattling off medical jargon to someone on the phone.

“Erwin… I…” Why would you need to call Erwin at three in the morning?

After that, Hange had helped put a hoodie over him, she had called one more number. And within a few minutes, Levi found himself lying down on a taxi, half conscious, only hanging on by a thread at the view of Hange under the dim light of the taxi and the city lights.

Somehow, he was terrified of falling asleep again. Hange hadn’t been there in the dream. And she might just disappear if he closed his eyes. As he unwillingly held on to the crushing pain in his knee and the view of Hange who sat next to him on the taxi, he was awake. Only barely, but barely was enough to not fall into another world of dreams, a world of wars and a state of complete chaos and confusion.

Eventually, he lost consciousness but it had been a gradual process.

He had lost some sense of time along the way, his body having been too focused on Hange. The darkness in the taxi had quickly shifted to the stark white of the hospital as he was helped onto a stretcher. Then along the way, he may have heard Erwin’s voice rattling off something about a swelling knee that was crushing his joints and a knee aspiration.

Then there was something about painkillers, an IV, a slight pain in his hand before everything enveloped him again. Maybe at his peripherals, Hange had been by his bedside.

It was a huge improvement at least from the messages of his own dreams. And maybe it was relief that finally had him letting go of his tight yet weak grip on reality. The crushing pain on his knee hadn’t been from a titan biting it off. Hange’s absence in the war had only been a dream.

The last few things he had processed then before completely letting the darkness enveloped him, may have been the sound of a laptop opening next to him, a few wires pattering on the floor below, the sound of the mouse and finally, the relaxing rhythmic clacking of the keyboard..

Hange was right next to him and she wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

A Tale of Two Slaves

“Sorry.” It came out as a croak but Levi was still hoping she heard it. Despite the haziness of the first few moments as he opened his eyes to the light streaming into the hospital room, despite the discomfort which came with a dry throat, it had been Levi’s first instinct to apologize.

Hange looked worse off than last night. He at least picked up enough images of her to know that there was a stark difference between the Hange of a few hours ago and the Hange then. The laptop hadn’t moved, it was still on the table next to his bedside, just like he had guessed it to be having fallen unconscious to the sound of the clacking of the keyboard.

Right then and there, Hange’s hair fell in chaotic waves, her glasses askew. And compared to last night where he saw panic, in front of him, he saw calm etched on her face, an ominous calm that somehow seemed even more alarming.

“Hange,” Levi said a little louder. The concern he felt only gave him the motivation to push past the discomfort of having just woken up. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you saying sorry? Hadn’t everything to this point been my fault?” Hange’s voice was soft, reflecting the ominous calm. It was cold, maybe even frozen. “"The reason the fluid built up in your knee was overexertion apparently. They’re guessing it was the physical therapy session last Saturday." Hange looked away. "I can't help but think... If I didn’t bring you to the tournament or talked to you about jumping , maybe you wouldn’t have pushed yourself too hard."

Levi had listened closely and he could have sworn he heard a crack in her voice. “But the fluid is gone right?” He asked. He noted that his knee was numb and to his relief, the pain had devolved into a dull ache, similar to the one he had been dealing with the past month. Not at all as alarming as it had been the night before.

Hange shrugged. “Maybe it’s the painkillers or maybe it’s the fact that they drained the wound. But don’t count your eggs before they even hatch. Your back to square one. All progress, out the window. Fuck this. Fuck all this. And you wouldn’t have been in this damn situation if he hadn’t fucked up way too many times. Was I pressuring you to jump? Was I pressuring you to recover quicker? Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned Elijah, or maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned MIkasa? Maybe I shouldn’t have let you go to that fucking meet in the first place.”

Levi kept quiet. Watching what had been Hange, leaving her laptop open on the table, watching her pace around the room, avoiding his gaze as she fell into her soft tirade had been unsettling. Even he couldn’t tell how it was making him feel. “It’s over. It happened. So many things had happened at once, it couldn’t have been anyone’s fault.”

“Fucking hell Levi, when I’m supposed to be writing about your injury, when I’m supposed to be writing every single bout of mini progress, writing out the mechanics of the injury… I can’t help but see… you were in no condition to jump. You were exhausted, your wounds from the first time we met were far from healed. But for fuck’s sake, if I had told you to wait it out a week, instead of letting you do jump after jump, maybe you’d be in class right now or maybe you’d be preparing for your next tournament… I don’t wanna write this anymore. I don’t wanna reduce whatever is going on inside you to a fucking case study.” Hange slammed her hand on her keyboard, and sat so violently on the chair, she had pushed it a few inches back.

“You need to graduate,” Levi said. What will Erwin think? What will your parents think?

“At this point, who cares? I’m miserable. I can’t fucking get anything written. I write a paragraph, I get self conscious and I delete it. I write out my interpretation of the numbers, of my findings, my gut wrenches then I delete it again."

“Take a break?” Levi weakly suggested.

Hange had laughed at that. The reaction came out of nowhere and Levi found himself speechless and maybe a little confused. Take a break? That had seemed like a natural suggestion. He had at least spent a good few seconds thinking in between listening to Hange’s rant to have come up with such a suggestion.

Either way, from the way Hange had laughed it off and slammed her laptop close, from the way she had sat back on the chair and looked at nothing in particular, the way she had avoided his gaze through the whole tirade and the fit that had followed, Levi was sure that had been the wrong thing to say.

A little ashamed at his own ability to have come up with something a little more comforting, Levi kept quiet. And for a second, he looked up at the own ceiling above him, and maybe distracted himself by appreciating the view from the wide hospital window, following the birds that were doing some sort of dance in the sky

For a moment, he did forget about Hange. She hadn’t helped at all to make herself any memorable, having kept silent.

The silence in that moment had been too peaceful, had been too otherworldly that it was only natural that it would be broken by even the softest and steadiest things.

Like an off-rhythm knock on the door.

“Hange?”

Levi recognized the voice even before his head popped up from behind the slightly opened door. “Moblit?”

Levi looked towards Hange. The latter sat unmoving on her seat, her head bowed down, her face unreadable. Even as Moblit opened the door a little wider and approached her, she hadn’t moved at all or even looked back to greet him. Levi bent over to get a better look at her and saw panic. A type of panic he had never seen before. Panic, confusion, maybe a little urgency. “Hange? Moblit’s here.” Levi managed to say. He kept his voice gentle, a natural gesture having to process Hange’s face at that moment.

“Hey Hange. Erwin told me you’d be here. The others were worried about you--- I was worried about you. You’re supposed to be presenting now."

Hange stayed silent. From what Levi could see, her face was frozen. Was that panic? Shock?

Moblit continued. "I explained your situation… They said they could push it back until this afternoon...You think you can make it?" Moblit paused as he got closer to her, as if waiting for her to say something. He had his phone out,as if ready to call the panelists at any moment.

"Hange. Go to the presentation," Levi said. It was difficult to bend over and make eye contact with her with her head bent down, her eyes downcast. He kept his words firm, hoping at least that was enough to reach her.

“I can’t…” She managed to say. She left her mouth half open, as if she had expected to say something after. She looked back up at Levi, then bit her lip. Levi could have sworn that was the first time he had seen her in such a loss of words yet at the same time, struggling to get something out.

“Hange, go. I’ll be fine…”

“You don’t understand, I can’t… present.”

“Hey, I’ll help you set up. We have until tonight.” Moblit scooched beside her on the table and typed out her password.

“No, you don’t get it, I have nothing…”

“Hey, I’ll help you get a powerpoint. We can revise your manuscript together. That’s what friends are for,” Moblit pressed as he pushed the laptop towards Hange. “Come on, type out your password.”

“No Moblit, there’s nothing in here. It’s over. I’ll try again next year.”

“It’s too early to give up Hange, remember how fast you got Elijah’s data processed? It helped me a lot.”

“You don’t get it do you?” Hange pulled the laptop towards her and angrily typed what could have been the password. The laptop booted to life and from where he sat, Levi made out the characteristic log in tone of the computer. “There’s nothing in the document. Just the introduction. No preliminary results. No observations. Nothing.”

Levi couldn’t see the screen from where he sat. But he did see the flashes of a changing screen through Moblit’s eyes. He could guess the results from the way Moblit’s jaw dropped and the way Hange just avoided both their gazes, keeping her eyes downcast.

Levi maneuvered himself to the side of the bed, getting Hange’s laptop at arm’s reach. His leg protested the action but that was the last thing on his mind. God forbid, what Moblit was seeing at that moment could have been Levi’s first assumption.

Hange… Didn’t you spend hours in the library getting everything written out?

Didn’t you spend whole days outside working in the lab?

Didn’t I fall asleep every night to the angry clacking of the keyboard?

Didn’t I wake up in the middle of the night to you in the dining room writing out your thesis?

She had been writing at least. The introduction, the review of related literature were all filled out. The methodology had been filled out. It was a far cry though from what she had made in high school. Each part had been furnished with links to sources, half completed sentences and maybe a few question marks here and there.

The observations and the results and discussions though, were all blank.

“Hange… You….” What were you doing? This can’t be it. Levi didn’t even know if he had said that last part out loud. His brain was on overdrive trying to prove his own quick conclusion wrong. He navigated through old versions of the document. His hands were quick, maybe they had been moving on their own and the PC couldn’t catch up.

A few times, Levi found himself tapping impatiently on the keyboard as the laptop loaded each version.

More links, more half completed sentences, and a very empty observations and results section. “We can get something written right? Help make a powerpoint? If we work together, we could get something presentable."

Moblit shook his head. He bent down next to Hange and spoke softly. “Does Erwin know about this?”

“I told him to just leave it to me… But I can’t. I can’t write this anymore.” Hange shook her head as she looked up at Moblit then up at him. There was some sort of a smile of resignation plastered on her face, reminiscent of the laugh of only a few moments ago.

That was what the laugh had meant when he had suggested the break.

Of course, she would laugh. There was no time for breaks. There was no time for work either. Hange was royally fucked.

Moblit left the room, neither Levi nor Hange asked for what. For a few more minutes, maybe for even an hour longer while Hange had been in her catatonic state, Levi did continue to look through her drafts, see what kind of sense he could make of the half complete sentences and the links to journals in her document with his limited knowledge on human anatomy.

His background had him very much unready to complete a thesis proposal on a technical subject he studied nothing about, let alone in the span of a few hours. Having been pumped with painkillers and sleeping drought only an hour before, his brain was in no state either to bullshit what he could. Despite all his desperate attempts to make sense of it, to write out something coherent, he found himself converting it back to the state he and Moblit had found it in.

Levi closed the laptop slowly and pushed it towards Hange. He was surprised and a little relieved to find that she did pull her weight, setting the laptop back on the table next to his bed.

Hange smiled at Levi and spoke up. “I appreciate you trying to do all this Levi but… I’ve given up already. I’m not getting this thesis done.”

It was a pained smile. A smile of resignation. A smile that was so clearly telling him that he had definitely wasted those last few minutes pouring through the versions of her document for nothing.

Levi took a deep breath and spoke up. “Then what’s your plan now?”

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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milazka · 4 years

Text

Distraction — Drew Starkey.

image found on pinterest

summary: the one where the quaterback of the football team helps you forget about your bad grade.

request: yes

content: fluff & smut

author’s note: it’s my very first story about a member of the cast of outer banks! i would like to clarify that all this is fictional, i only use the looks and the names of the actors and actresses. my masterlist will be linked at the end of this story if you feel like reading some other fics. this one is for my babe cort ( @pogue-writings ) because she is drew’s soulmate.

warnings: most of my stories may contain mature themes such as swearing, underage drinking, substance abuse, sexual language and scenes, fights and more. also, i do not intend to be offensive towards anyone who reads this blog, if anything written can be perceived as hurtful to any community or person, i apologize, it was never my purpose while writing it.

word Count: 1957.

The campus library has always been her favorite spot to study. It's quiet and the atmosphere is always soothing, the exact opposite of her dorm room where her roommate seems more interested in experimenting the male anatomy than studying it in her textbook. A few weeks ago, after catching her once again during the act, she had decided to find a new place to study. She had walked around the campus and eventually found this spot around one of the large hardwood tables that stand between the bookshelves full of old books about psychology. The perfect place to set her in a study mood.

For the past few hours, she has been sitting in her usual place, her textbook open in front of her eyes and her black notebook on her right. She only has one midterm left in two days and it will cover all the topics seen in her subconscious psychology course, which is one of her most interesting courses, but also the one that requires the longest hours of study in order to pass the exams.

The sound of a chair gliding on the floor makes her look up and she’s surprised to see Drew, a boy from her psychology of the subconscious class, sit on the chair in diagonal to her. Normally, the library is almost empty at this time of the night and she never saw him here; he seems like the kind of guy who spends more time on the football field than he does in front of his textbooks. They’ve been in the same class for four months, but she never really paid attention to him, except when he is disturbing the class with the two other musketeers, Chase and Rudy. She smiles nicely at him when their eyes meet and he raises his coffee cup which he pretends to drink all at once while they both laugh silently, hoping not to be warned by Mrs. Jones, the librarian who looks strangely similar to Roz from the movie Monster inc.

She tries to put her nose back in her book, trying to focus on the pages suggested in the study guide and highlighting important sentences from a passage about Freud and his discovery of psychoanalysis, but she can't help but look up discreetly at the boy. He is wearing a navy flannel shirt which, half-buttoned, reveals a white shirt that moulds his muscular chest. His trademark cap, which he always wears backwards, rests as usual on the top of his head, still letting a few strands of hair slip out of the hat. She particularly lingers on his muscled arms covered by the navy blue cloth, it's not surprising that he's the quarterback on the football team. The studious look on his face and the way he’s chewing on the tip of his pencil while frowning makes him look cuter than usual, she can’t deny it.

When she sees the lateness of the hour, she delicately puts her books back in her red bag, not noticing how intensely the boy is staring at her. He simply can't help but admire her sweet angelic face, her tired-looking little eyes, the thin, shiny layer of lip balm covering her lips that he would dream of kissing; he likes everything about her and cannot help but smile foolishly.

“Hey Y/n,” he whispers, catching her attention. “Me and the boys are throwing a party friday night, you should come.”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” she smiles at him, noticing his blushing cheeks and the little spark in his gaze.

“Great! Good luck on your exam.”

“Good luck to you too. I’ll see you friday.”

─── °• ❀ ───

The room goes from purple to blue, then from blue to pink, courtesy of the spotlights that change the colour of the room's luminosity along the rhythm of the music. The parties hosted by the university football team always do justice to their reputation, no matter what’s the occasion. It's not the first time she attends one, but it's the first time she’s been invited by the quarterback. Her mind did not stop playing back the memory of the little sparkle in the young man's eyes when she had accepted his invitation. Maybe it meant nothing, but a part of her wants to believe it didn't. Plus, she really needs to take her mind off things after receiving her mediocre grade from the last exam. She knew her teacher was strict, but not this strict.

As she makes her way through the dancing crowd, an arm slips around her naked shoulders, making her startles. She's used to being approached by boys at parties, but she hates it when they think they can do anything and touch her even if she doesn't want to. Looking up, she loosen up when she sees Drew's familiar face smirking at her and she's glad it's not a drunk who's asking her to blow him.

“I'm so glad you came,” he says to her as he hands her a red cup filled with beer. “How did your exam go?”

She pouts, taking a big sip of the golden liquid that tickles her throat.

“Really bad.”

“That sucks,” she raises an eyebrow at the boy as when he takes back the cup that he just gave her and drops it on the countertop behind him. “C’mon, I have the perfect remedy for a bad grade.”

Drew takes her tiny hand into his big one, guiding her to the backyard where several tables are set up to play beer pong. Small lights illuminate the yard where games have already started. People cheer each other up and yell like crazy when someone manage to get the ball in a cup. She recognizes Rudy’s familiar blond hair when he jumps into Jonathan's arms and she deduces they just won their game against Madison and Austin. Everyone laughs when the two boys lose their balance and crash into the grass, grunting at each other. Her hand is still holding Drew's firmly when he walks up to Chase who is sitting in a chair close to the fire pit with his girlfriend on his lap, grilling and eating marshmallows.

“Yo Chase! Me and Y/n vs Maddie and you?” Drew challenges his friend, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Game on, baby!” Chase exclaims as they both stand up and follow them to the table.

She and Drew make a fire team, throwing a series of winning shots and gradually getting Madelyn and Chase drunk. All the way through the game, she never worries about her bad grade, it's like it never existed. The alcohol in her bloodstream seems to be opening her eyes to Drew's attractiveness. The girl never really paid attention to how he is totally her type of guy. She bites her lower lip, obviously checking him out when he pulls off his hoodie and his shirt comes up, revealing the prominent V-shape above the hem of his pants.

“Like what you see, don't ya?” he teases the girl, an irresistible smile on the corner of his lips.

She blushes up to her ears, making Drew laugh, and he just adds to her embarrassment by putting his arm around her shoulders before throwing the last ball who lands directly into the last standing cup. Maybe it's the emotion of the moment for her, whereas he's been dreaming about it for months, but their eyes meet each other and suddenly their lips collide. The kiss doesn't last long, not long enough in his opinion. The flight of butterflies in the young woman's belly doesn't disappear when their lips separate, she needs to kiss him again, to feel him touch her.

“I need you, Drew.” she whines close to his ear, making his heart skips a beat. "God, Y/n," he breaths out, pulling her closer to him. "Do you know how long I've been dreaming about you saying that to me?”

She just winks at him and grabs his hand, pulling him toward the front door as he pinches himself on the arm, not believing that this is really happening. He throws a murderous look at Rudy and Chase who make fun of him by pretending to make out sensually. They pass through the living room which is still full of people swinging their bodies to the rhythm of the music and climb upstairs where Drew guides them to his room. He slams her against the door, his hands grabbing her hips as he kisses her again. She bites his lower lip, making him growl against her mouth. Drew starts to place open mouthed kisses on her neck and she tiltes it to give him full access to her burning skin. He leads her to the bed, pinning her on the mattress and he removes her short as he is now hovering over her half naked body. His hand slides down her thigh, making her squirm under him as he gets closer to her core. He plays with the waistband of her panties, smirking against her lips.

“Drew,” she moans, looking at him with her eyes filled with desire. He grabs her waist and flip them over so she is now straddling him. She unbuttons his khaki shirt, slipping his hands over his muscular chest. She starts to grind down on his lap, making him whine and dig his fingers into her buttcheeks

“It's not about me tonight, I'm not the one who needs to be distracted.” he whispers to her ear before flipping her over again so that he is now hovering over her.

She lets out a few muffled moans as he leaves a trail of kisses between her breast and on her stomach. He sucks and nibbles at the skin on her inner thighs, only increasing her desire to feel him on her already wet womanhood.

“You’re so pretty, all wet and spread out like this, just for me.”

“Drew, please…” she begs, but he cuts her short by placing a kiss on her clit, slipping her underwear off. He places an open-mouthed kiss just above her wet folds, making her buck her hips up.

“So eager, baby, I like it.” he hums just above her bundle of nerves, sending vibrations on it. She runs her fingers through his light brown hair, pushing him closer to her heat. He finally licks a full stripe through her folds, making her back arch to the so desired feeling.

“Oh fuck,” she groans as he inserts one finger in her, his tongue sucking on her clit. His hands are firmly wrapped around her thighs to keep her spread open for him. She clenches the sheets between her fists, her eyes close under the wave of pleasure that runs through her body when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. His nose rubs up against her clit as he moves his face, pumping his tongue in and out of her.

“Fuck I’m so close, please don’t stop,” she moans, making him pumps his tongue faster. A few profanities mixed with loud moans leave her lips as she reaches her high, legs shaking on his shoulders. He licks her folds a few more times to clean her up, sending electric jolts through her body when he touches her sensitive nerves from the orgasm. He lies down beside her, pulling her towards him with his arms wrapped around her body.

“What about you? I’m no the type of girl who doesn’t give back,” she starts but Drew shushes her with a quick kiss. “I’m sure you’re not, but tonight it’s about you and only you.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect, y’a know?”

“It was about time you figured that out!” he mocks her and she giggles, burying her face further into the crook of his neck.

─── °• ❀ ───

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#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey smut #drew starkey au #drew starkey obx #drew starkey one shot #obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #obx fic #obx fanfiction #drew starkey fic

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 3 years

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Teen Witch

Controversial opinion: stories about witches are the best stories. Just look at WandaVision - bitches ate that UP because it’s about WITCHES, which means it’s ultimately about loss and trauma and female (literal) empowerment in the face of those tragedies (and I mean there’s some complicated stuff in there about inflicting trauma upon others, even accidentally, and that’s kind of a witch thing too). And Sabrina is all well and good and everything, but what if you want your witch story to be a little less Dark Arts and a little more candy-coated? Have I got the film for you! Wes requested Teen Witch as part of his quest to expand my cheesy 80s cult classic knowledge, and boy did this one deliver. How 80s-tastic are we talking? Well...

The basic story is this: Louise (Robyn Lively) is a typical teen girl who occupies the nerd level of the high school hierarchy. You know the type - soft-spoken, nerdy best friend, has a crush on the cutest guy in school (Dan Gauthier), made fun of in gym class by all the cheerleaders. One day she crashes her bike in front of a psychic’s home/place of business and goes inside to use the phone, but gets her palm read first. The psychic, named Madame Serena, (Zelda Rubenstein, playing, I’m assuming, herself) tells her she will soon come into some witchy powers on her 16th birthday. When Louise’s birthday rolls around, you guessed it - witching aplenty. She gets the popularity, she gets the cute guy, she ditches her nerdy friend; it’s basically The Princess Diaries without Queen Julie Andrews. But then, y’know, she learns a valuable lesson about the high price of popularity and how important it is to be true to yourse--wait, no she doesn’t, she takes off her magic necklace and smooches with the boy she likes at the school dance and that’s how it ends.

Some thoughts:

This slow motion credit sequence is incredible. See, we just don’t have this anymore, where the movie starts and you have no fucking idea what’s going on. The 80s really knew how to draw an audience in. Is this a dream? Is this a music video? No one knows! That’s why it’s exciting!

Why are tv and movies so obsessed with a completely made-up depiction of what takes place outside a high school’s entrance before the first bell? Apparently there’s a busker festival going on at this high school every day - there’s guys doing BMX tricks, an all white rap group, I think I saw some jugglers.

I’ve actually taught in both middle and high school, so I know this English teacher (Shelley Berman) wouldn’t be fired for being such a shitty teacher, but he should be.

Is this like...a musical? First there was the terrible rapping, now there are cheerleaders doing “the new cheer” which is literally a song just saying “I...LIKE...BOYS!” and there’s a dance routine on top of lockers - there’s a lot of towel choreography. It feels like a musical in the sense that it’s nonsensical, but I don’t actually think it IS a musical. Genre-defying!

It’s kinda creepy that Louise is watching an extended montage of Brad (Gauthier) working out shirtless from the shadows but like...same, girl. Damn, Brad.

Aw, at least Brad is reasonably nice. Louise, show some backbone! You shouldn’t have been too proud to let him drive you home after he ran you off the road on your bike accidentally!

I am just mystified by the market for roles that were appropriate for Zelda Rubenstein in the 80s. What is this niche? Which came first, Zelda Rubenstein, or these characters?

I am also mystified by this gremliny little brother (Joshua John Miller) who seems to be obsessed with eating cake and never washing his hair. He’s like a goblin trapped in a diminutive nonbinary body made of pizza and spite. [ETA: I now feel a little bad for finding him so repellent in this, as the actor wrote one of my favorite meta horror movies, The Final Girls, in 2015. So at least he grew up and made something cool of himself.]

OMFG did Brad just hit the soda machine for her like the fucking Fonz?

There is (temporarily) a Very Good Dog who is not harmed in any way.

In what universe does Louise see what her date, David (Jared Chandler), is wearing and be like “he’s such a geek” when she looks like an extra from Leave it to Beaver.

The DJ just said “OK guys, grab your wallets, it’s a slow song.” What...does that even mean? Is he implying that slow dances are expensive? Ooh or even more nefarious, that there’s a rampant pickpocketing problem during slow dances?

Did Louise...just imply that the number of light years away a star is dictates how soon a wish you make on that star would come true? Listen. I’m no astrophysicist. But I have read enough Neil Degrasse Tyson tweets to know that that’s not how any of this works.

OK I take back what I said, David is a fucking CREEP. Drag his ass, Louise. However, I think she may have straight up murdered him by making him disappear. David is never seen or heard from again in this film.

Obsessed with the dad’s sweaters both because they are ridiculous and because he is the lesser Darren from the original Bewitched.

It feels weird that Louise’s revenge involves forcing Mr. Weaver to take his clothes off in front of the class.Who wants that? Like I get that it’s humiliating for him, but really, you’re only punishing yourself here Louise.

There is a rap-off that is meant to convey electric sexual tension between two nerdy ass white kids.

I don’t know what it was like at your school, but I can tell you for sure that at my high school no one ever applauded when the most popular girl in school walked into the classroom like she’s Kramer making an entrance on Seinfeld.

Why is Brad taking her to an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere? And why is she wearing heels?

Oh god she took the heels off and now she’s barefoot in this decrepit house, that’s so much worse! TETANUS EXISTS LOUISE.

Wait are they going to fuck in the abandoned house? Brad has a girlfriend! You brought heels, but did you bring condoms?? I guess she has bigger concerns than tetanus now. Also I feel so bad for these actors, they are both DRIPPING sweat. That must have been a miserable shoot.

I’ve said this before, but the 80s were such an incredible time for himbo fashion. Crop tops, those tank tops with the giant holes for the arms, teeny little basketball shorts. In the 90s all we had were JNCOs and weirdly “urbanized” Looney Tunes characters on baggy t-shirts. Gen X has no idea how good they had it re: male fashion.

I’m genuinely obsessed with the idea that popularity means the school just has banners all over that say “LOUISE” and she gets like, cards and fan mail that say “Louise U R the best.” This feels like if you ask a kindergartner what being popular means.

Madame Serena just said “the real magic is believing in yourself” which is exactly what Louise’s dad said like 15 minutes ago, but I guess he wasn’t a 3-foot-tall witch so no one paid attention when he said it.

Y’know for an 80s prom outfit, Louise’s dress is pretty cute.

I cannot stress enough that Brad’s girlfriend is at this dance while he and Louise are kissing! Does no one care? Were high school attitudes toward monogamy just way more flexible in the 80s?

Did I Cry? Shyeah, right.

This is such an odd, mostly charming, but wildly perplexing little movie. There was no antagonist or real conflict here, at all. Louise barely struggles with any sort of tension or remorse about having her powers and what it means for her life, she just kind of decides at the end that she’s over it, and she still gets the guy and no actual negative consequences from bending the entire school to her will for the past few months. I mean, in The Craft, when people use magic for their own gains, other people fucking DIE. I was definitely entertained, but a lot of it was due to me saying, “What? How? What?” loudly at the screen. I can see how this has gained a cult following in much the same way that other oddball 80s fare like Better Off Dead or Girls Just Wanna Have Fun did. Watch it once, then watch it again while you get drunk with your friends (in a post-Covid world, obviously) and you’ll probably have a pretty great time.

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

#121in2021 #teen witch #teen witch review #robyn lively #dan gauthier #zelda rubinstein #movie reviews #film reviews #patreon review

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acloudkat · 3 years

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Gossip Girl 2.0

So. . . I was unsure of whether I was going to talk about this or not but… in the end, here we are!

I shall be talking about the Gossip Girl Reboot.

Now quick disclaimer and mild *excuse you* to HBO, please find ways to make your content accessible to Europe because there are those of us that are interested and unfortunately your "Max" service is US only and honestly i see no reasonable logic behind it. Therefore my means of getting access to this content shall not be discussed.

Extra disclaimer, there will be spoilers. Doi.

Now I am a big die hard fan of the original GG series and despite the outdated (to today’s standards) comparisons and slang, some of the topics hold up even today. For anyone curious or questioning my opinion, based on my generation, I am mildly in the middle as a Zelenial at 23. I did not grow up with GG, I learned about it when I was 14 but watched it for the first time when I was 19. Since, I have watched it up to 14-17 times; more than 10 for sure. So you can do with that as you please. The main reason I mention this is due to some articles and comments pointing out that maybe it’s a “Gen Z only media” or that “Millennials are just bitter cause it’s not theirs”. Keeping that in mind I will be as per usual showing the ups and downs of the show (so far and later on) from my own personal perspective.

After watching ep 1. (& now 2 which will be in a separate post after this) I have a few questions, comments AND concerns. So let’s get into those shall we :)

So let's do a little round up of our characters.

We have newcomer Zoya Lott that is moving to NYC on a Constance scholarship! But little did anyone in the show know, it was all a plot to get to be with her *half sister*. WHAT?! So the tldl on that is that Zoya and our other main character, Julien Calloway, share a mom! Mom, that i quote "left Julien's dad for Zoya's dad and the dads hate each other" because of which hate, they had absolutely forbidden their daughters from communicating. One thing led to another, a friend request was sent and this is basically the parent trap. . . . but for the kids. . .and they're aware of it cause they made it. . . I suppose? The parents haven't really been mentioned to matter in their plan, however, they do keep bringing up their middle names as "Zoya Jane and Julien Elizabeth" as clues left by their mother? Now some rumours around the web have connected the names to the Pride and Prejudice novels and while that would be extremely Gossip Girl-esque to do, and I am entirely up for that, hell yea!!! I'm wondering if it's as simple as... their mother's name was Elizabeth Jane... but maybe GG will be the one to discover that secret first? Other than that, Zoya is very much a very trusting "innocent type" character that probably has more past than we know about so it will be quite interesting to see how that elaborates going further into the series.

Then there is self-made influencer Julien Calloway. She is the new version of queen at Constance but as stated, they "don't do the patriarchy anymore". While she appears all smiles and kindness, personally i feel as if JC is kind of fake? She has things she cares about yes, but the moment someone or something interferes with her followers and her social standing or Obie (more on him later)

"the gloves come off and the claws come out" - Serena Van der Woodsen

When it comes to Julien I am honestly more curious to see who she is once you take away the followers and the media. Will she be an actual person or just a shallow obsessed spoiled brat? I just hope it won't be the typical story of "have to be perfect and have to have everyone like me because my mom left" ie. has mommy issues. That is how that cliche goes after all. So I am greatly hoping that's not going to be it for this one.

Obie Bergmann! We get introduced to Obie as Julien's boyfriend. Throughout ep 1, the things we learn about Obie are that he is basically the richest in the group, and lives in Dumbo. (irony from original GG for anyone that can guess it). He appears like a super nice and kind dude, a supportive boyfriend, kind of bland and tired of the relationship but the main thing that bothers me about him so far is his impossible to ignore "white guilt syndrome". For anyone unaware, "white guilt" is "remorse or shame felt by a white person with respect to racial inequality and injustice". While it's not a bad thing trying to make up for the in-equality in the world, here's hoping that's not his entire character cus that would get old quick.

Then we have the bestie, Audrey Hope. Audrey. . . is cold but to the point. Very analysing and observing. Definitely the type of character that would take all the info first and decide what to do after. I both like and am confused by her? Her cold mannerisms are quite enjoyable among the masses of drama and emotion I won't lie. However, i do predict a juicy threesome between her, boyfriend Aki and one Max Wolfe. Honestly, I am highly interested in how their relationship evolves.

Aki Menzies is kind of a mystery as of the moment. As to be expected with just 1 episode, we won't know too much about all the characters. He is the very supportive boyfriend that tries to keep the peace between everyone.

Max Wolfe on the other hand appears like the much more flamboyant version of Chuck Bass, if Chuck Bass had a supportive family environment and no limits on who he's dating. That's more or less for him but kuddos for his 0 hesitation to basically have a pic of his dick sent to everyone. I will never not find that hilarious. But again, between these three is my prediction for some juicy interactions. Cause to be fully honest, the chemistry is undeniable.

Monet de Haan. Ah. She is honestly the savage that we need around here. She is the control and the power behind Julien's brand honestly. I am curious how come she helps Julien with her brand rather than have her own? If we go off anything said in the episode, she is more feared than adored so maybe that's why? But Monet honey, fear can also have a following, just . . a different one.

And then there's Luna La, "The stylist" while we don't know much about her, some of her one liners are actively giving me life. Her and Monet are definitely a package deal and i wonder if there is juicier gossip there that we don't know yet.

Lastly, we have our new Gossip Girl. Young teacher, Kate Keller. I won't lie, i did not see us knowing who GG is from the get go. I am however wondering whether this will drag her down to the level of highschoolers (besides the fact that she looks younger than some of them xD) Something that is bothering me in the reboot however, is that technically, characters that represent adults, spying on minors??? Like they even make the point that "i shouldn't have these, i should be in jail" in regards to having almost naked pictures of the kids. Like it's not really okay??? In the original yea no one knew who GG was but they always knew it was someone their age. The teachers didn't care at those times. But they do now and I am not fully sure how okay it is.

And of course, the extras like some of the other teachers behind GG and the parents. We however, don't know too much about them as of now so we shall see soon. If any new characters are introduced they will be addressed but for now, onto the episode!

The half sisters plot is definitely interesting so I would love to know where the whole middle names thing will go. The story line I'm most interested in at the moment however is between Audrey, Max and Aki. I want to see that unwind into something horrendous but then beautiful! It has so much potential in my opinion. In terms of character development however i want to see who Julien is without all of her fame and followers. When the focus is not the media and the attention. I want to see that Julien.

The first episode definitely introduced us to a lot of things at once so far that is my take on them. I'm sure that in the future both the teachers and parents will be a bigger part but one thing is abundantly clear. Unlike the OGGG, there won't be more than maybe 2-3 seasons depending on the ages of the students. The teachers won't follow them onto college will they? Or will things drastically change along the way? It was rather amusing seeing them talk about all the old characters however, and reference the OG Gossip Girl. I am vaguely offended that they categorised twitter as "a glorified chatroom for memes for people over 30". Like dude. . . that hit me hard. I am happy that FB was never even mentioned as existing tho! Cause let's be honest that is not the "hip" thing anymore. But the rules they put down at the party definitely made my head spin. Had to listen to them twice to even get what was happening.

But that's probably enough of me babbling on about this xD If you want to find this on an apparently dying type of media, here's my blog post about it as well lol: https://acloudkat.wordpress.com/?p=960

#gossip girl reboot #gossip girl #reboot #series things

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let-it-raines · 5 years

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Prompt: two boarding school teachers finally, FINALLY get together. Everyone around them is way too invested and knows way too much. I'd send you the link but tumblr won't like that.

Okay @shireness-says this completely and totally spiraled, and I 100% blame you for that. I’m sure you won’t mind though, and I hope that you enjoy!

Rating is on the more mature side for the ending, as per request 😘

-/-

Wind whips through the courtyard as Killian walks along the sidewalk wishing he had a scarf to go along with his jacket and his knit hat, but he can’t seem to find his school-approved scarf. He’s thirty-two years old, and he still has to wear a school-approved scarf when it’s school hours and he’s technically on the clock. Though, working at a boarding school means he’s nearly always on the clock when he’s in charge of the eleventh-grade boys’ dorm three nights a week. At least they don’t check his scarf-wearing there.

He simply has to check to make sure thirty hormonal seventeen-year-olds aren’t sneaking out or sneaking girls in. Most nights it’s easy, others he swears he gains several wrinkles on his face, and sometimes he has to call in Rob on his night off to help to get them to all settle down.

Killian never thought that being a Calculus teacher would be this damn hard, and he voluntarily became a Calculus teacher.

The dorm beds really kill his back, and he longs for the days where he can stay in his apartment in the faculty building that’s located between the boys’ and girls’ dorms.

Tomorrow.

He’ll be back in his apartment tomorrow, and he cannot wait to spend the entire time in bed.

Pulling his coat a little tighter around him, Killian keeps trudging through the slight dusting of snow with his backpack bouncing against his lower back. A group of students are throwing a football back and forth to each other while another bunch sit at a cluster of picnic tables, their voices echoing between the small group of buildings, and Killian can’t help but smile at them voluntarily sitting out in the cold simply so they can get in a little fun on their lunch hour.

The thing about Storybrooke Academy is that it’s remote. Wealthy parents up and down the east coast ship their teenagers off to live and be educated in the ivy-covered halls of this prestigious academy for two reasons:

(1) The teachers are top notch.

(2) Their children have very little access to distractions.

The actual town of Storybrooke is a fifteen-minute walk downhill – which inevitably means the walk back is a torturous fifteen minutes uphill – and since students cannot have cars here, the only way to leave the campus is by walking. They’re also only allowed to leave on the weekends, and even then, anyone under sixteen has to be accompanied by a faculty member. As much as Killian loves his students, he doesn’t love spending the little free time he has on the weekends with them as they spend their entire day at the diner that backs up to the beach.

He doesn’t blame them for going there, though. Not at all. As wonderful as their meal hall food is, it can get repetitive. And as much as they all try to provide the kids with enough study material to spend their afternoons and enough entertainment to spend their evenings, it can get a little boring up here. The headmaster is a bit old school in that he doesn’t believe in school-wide Wi-Fi – “the internet is a distraction full of horrors, and we will not have it here outside of the library and the classrooms” – so it’s not as if they can spend their days scrolling through Instagram or streaming YouTube videos.

Is he old or does he simply sound old thinking that?

No matter, the students and faculty at Storybrooke Academy spend their free time in search of entertainment through reading, board and card games, the occasional movie night, and, of course, gossip.

Gossip, as they say, makes the world go around, and that is surely true here.

It’s what makes the clock in the tower tick and the ink in the pens run. It’s what causes teenagers to have flush rise in their cheeks and for adults’ whispers gets caught in the wind and carried to the three hundred people who live on this campus.

Killian doesn’t truly want to take part in it, but it’s nearly inevitable with how things work. For instance, he knows that their head cook Ms. Lucas was once married to their handyman Mr. Geppetto but that they can’t stand to be in the same room together now. It’s to the point that if something in the kitchen is broken, she will fix it herself and get electrocuted before calling for help. The gossip is always what allows him to know that last week a group of the tenth-grade girls snuck away from their dorm in the middle of the night to break into the science building so that they could use the internet to stream this week’s episode of the Bachelor. It is always what enables him to be aware of the fact that there was a copy of one of his tests floating around so now he’s been able to make a new test with new questions.

Mostly, however, being aware of the academy’s penchant for gossip is what has Killian knowing that he must keep his private life at a degree higher than private so no one knows the details of what is going on when he is off campus.

As Killian continues to move along the courtyard, he passes by Emma Swan and Mary Margaret Blanchard huddled together with a group of their history students. He tries not to look at her for too long, so he only sees a flash of blonde hair wrapped up under a warm white knit hat with a puffball on the top and the slightest hint of a smile. Blush warms his cheeks more than a scarf ever could, but Killian pushes it down. He is not a school boy, and he certainly will not blush like one over a pretty lass smiling at him.

Even if that pretty lass is the woman he’s been pining over for the past three years.

She may very well be the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen. The first day he ever saw her she walked into the faculty lounge wearing a skin-tight black dress that showed every curve of her toned body hidden under a vibrant red blazer. Her blonde hair cascaded off her shoulders in thick waves that he simply knew would be soft, and the sunlight gleaming through the windows made the green of her eyes almost look blue. She was breathtaking, and he nearly did have his breath taken away from him when he went to speak to her and words did not come out.

Not his best first impression, but certainly not his worst.

However, Emma isn’t simply someone who he’s physically attracted to. She’s smart and kind and so goddamn witty that his heart aches when she’s smiling while talking to him and that it aches even more when she’s smiling while talking to someone else.

Killian has never once had an issue telling a woman that he wants to be with her, and yet he can’t even think about telling Emma how much she means to him. They’ve grown too close.

Besides, Emma doesn’t feel anything besides friendship for him. How could she feel anything else? She deserves far better than him.

The thing about the rumors that bounce along the walls of this school is that they are not simply current rumors. They are rumors of the past like Killian’s forced retirement from the Navy at the age of twenty-two and the married woman who he was having an affair with. He didn’t know at the time, but that’s never seemed to matter.

Rumors make the world go around and yet bring a singular person to a screeching halt all at once.

“Killian,” Emma calls out, and he stops in his tracks to turn back around to look at her as she walks toward him. She’s even more beautiful close up, white specks of snow sprinkled in her hair and on the tip of her eyelashes, and the only thing keeping him from reaching up to touch the snow is Emma’s hand landing on his forehand as little sparks of electricity move over him. “Why weren’t you at breakfast this morning?”

Killian quirks his brow and sways a little further into Emma’s space, all of his usual bravado returning as his lips curl into a salacious smirk. “Did you miss me then, love? I know I’m irresistible, but I figured you could at least make it through breakfast without me.”

She good-naturedly rolls her eyes as her hand stays wrapped around his forearm. He can see the gold specks in her eyes from here. “I’m not stroking your ego, Jones.”

“You’re not stroking anything of mine if we’re being particular.”

“Please,” she huffs, a white puff of air coming out with her breath. “You couldn’t handle it.”

Killian dips his head down to lower himself to her eye-level and get as close to her as possible so that he knows she can feel the heat of his breath on her skin. Emma’s hand over his coat sleeve is burning him alive.

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

She blinks, and he swears that she gets the smallest bit closer, her mouth nearing his, and his stomach painfully swoops at the prospect of Emma’s lips against his. He’s imagined it far too many times. They’ll be soft, he’s sure, and he knows that if Emma kisses anything like she argues, she’ll give as good as she gets.

If not better.

And if they weren’t standing in a courtyard filled with all of their students and if Killian wasn’t sure that Emma had no interest in him, he’d surge forward and pull her lips and her body into his so that he can feel the heat of her body all over him, the cold air around them completely disappearing as he is absolutely consumed by Emma.

Emma’s breath hitches, the sound the loudest thing he’s ever heard, and Killian’s thoughts come back to him so that he’s stepping back and righting his features while he wishes that his trousers weren’t quite so tight. Reaching up to scratch behind his ear, Killian smiles down at her, this time in a perfectly friendly way.

“I missed breakfast because I was grading papers. I’ll be at supper tonight if you’d truly like to dine with the best company on campus. I know that I can be charming.”

Her smile changes then, from soft to a bit smug, and she steps back into his space so that his breath hitches this time. Her hand has never left his arm. “I simply wanted to know where you were because I wanted my headphones that you borrowed back. I don’t find you that charming that I simply needed to see you.”

Killian bites his tongue to keep from laughing at the squeak in her voice, and he leans into her as a strong gust of wind ruffles their coats and causes Emma’s hair to fly into his own face, tickling his upper lip.

“All that sounds like, darling, is that you need me in order to listen to your music, and I suggest that you start to find me charming so that I’m able to give them back to you.”

There’s a pinch at his skin. “You’re an ass.”

He winks. “You love it.” Emma opens her mouth to say something else, but then a bell is ringing over the courtyard, and they both spring away from each other and look around to see that most everyone had already started to head inside in preparation for the fifth period bell to ring, and yet the two of them have simply been standing outside. “Well, Swan, I guess I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, and bring my headphones.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Killian turns on his heels and starts walking toward the building where his classroom is. Emma follows right behind him except that she takes a turn one door earlier than him, and as soon as she disappears behind the stone walls, he lets out a sigh of relief and can feel his heart start to beat normally again. Not every interaction with her is that charged, but damn does he love it when they do get to talk like that.

There is nothing quite like him being able to tease her.

By the time Killian gets to his classroom, all of his students are already sitting in their desks, each of them on their phones to use the internet while they can, and they barely even notice his presence as he sits down in his rolling chair and places the stack of tests he was grading this morning on his desk before he turns on his computer to pull up today’s lesson plans.

“So,” he starts as he types his username in, “do you guys have anything interesting to tell me today? What have I missed while I was holed away grading your papers, which were excellent by the way. I’ll give them back after I have a chance to go over some of the answers to the trickier questions with you all.”

His usual very chatty peanut gallery is silent, and he stops looking at his computer screen to look up and over at all of them. No one talks more than his advanced class of seniors, but every single one of them is staring down at their notebooks, all of their phones put away like the annoyingly good students that they are.

Killian rolls his chair to the center of his desk and leans forward to rest his cheek in his right palm while the fingers of his left hand drum against the wooden frame. “It’s Monday. That means we just had a weekend, and since we’ve had a weekend, I know that means you all have gossip. And because I don’t want you annoying your other teachers with it, I need you guys to tell me what’s going on around the school.” Still, no one says anything, and Killian sighs. “I’m not going over the exam until someone spits it out. You lot can’t focus until after we’ve had our Monday afternoon chats.”

His eyes scan over the room and finally land on Caroline Abbot. She never can keep a secret.

Sure enough, she starts speaking once he’s spent two seconds staring at her. “Ms. Swan went on a date this weekend, and we didn’t want to tell you since we know that you like her.”

An anvil drops in his stomach, the pain overwhelming him, and Killian bites down on his tongue so harshly that iron immediately fills his mouth while flames flicker across his cheeks.

Bloody hell.

No.

Emma can’t have gone on a date. She simply can’t. Well, no, of course she could. She’s a gorgeous, intelligent woman, and she can do whatever she damn well pleases.

It’s just that…no, that’s hopeful thinking. They are not going to end up together, no matter how much his students are convinced that they are.

“First of all, Caroline,” he breathes out on a heavy sigh, “I do not have feelings for Ms. Swan.”

For fuck’s sake, why is he justifying himself to teenagers? Then again, he is the one to ask them about this weekend’s gossip, so he’s brought it on himself.

Who did Emma go out on a date with? Why didn’t she mention it? Why did no one mention it? Rob or Mary Margaret or, hell, Ms. Lucas should have mentioned it to him.

Emma should have mentioned it to him. They’re friends. They tell each other things. At least, he thought that they did. Yet, now that he truly thinks about it, he cannot remember the last time Emma told him one of her stories from her adventures in dating. They used to make a fire burn deep in his belly, still do apparently, and as nice as it was to listen to her share about her days, he’s a bit relieved that he hasn’t had to listen to any stories lately because he’s a miserable sod.

“But you do have feelings for her,” Abigail speaks up from the back of the classroom. “You two are perfect for each other, and everyone knows it but you.”

This gets the class in an uproar, as it always does, and Killian can do nothing to stop it. He’s tried before, but his students are absolutely convinced that he and Emma are some kind of fairytale True Love with capital letters and an overly cheesy happily ever after that doesn’t happen in real life because trials and tribulations still happen after the guy and the girl get together and drive off into the sunset.

And maybe he’d like to drive off into the sunset with Emma so that he can always hear the sound of her laughter and look at the crinkle of her nose as she smiles, but that’s simply not happening. The car is very much in park, if not shifting into reverse.

“Enough,” he shouts over the noise, banging his hand down on his desk just so that everyone can hear him. “Seriously, guys, I appreciate how much you care about your teachers, but Emma and I are simply friends and coworkers. You all go a little stir crazy holed up in here, so you’ve dreamed up this romance that simply isn’t there.”

“But it is,” George speaks up, and Killian is soothed by the familiar British accent of his student even if his words aren’t particularly pleasant. “You simply don’t know it yet. We all agree that the spark is there.”

Killian chuckles under his breath as his head shakes from side to side. He’s really got to get on with today’s lesson. “You know, as much as I love our Monday morning gossip sessions, I hate to tell you that no matter how hard you try, my personal life is never going to be something that runs along the rumor mill of this school. At least, my legitimate and current personal life. This hypothetical relationship between Emma and me doesn’t count.” Every single one of them opens their mouth to stay something, but he holds his finger up to stop them. “Nope. We’re moving onto Calculus, and that’s final.”

To say that the knowledge of Emma going on a date eats at Killian for the rest of the day is an understatement. The knowledge consumes him. Every second that he is not busy giving a lesson or grading papers his mind is focusing on it, and he knows that it’s unhealthy. It’s simply that he doesn’t think he’s able to turn his mind off and let himself focus on other, normal things that he should be focusing on.

Emma is a grown woman free to do what she wants, and she deserves all of the happiness in the world.

Killian was simply idiotic and selfish enough to think that some of that happiness could involve him.

It certainly doesn’t help that over the next few days Emma seems to be everywhere that he is. She slides in next to him in the booth at breakfast, excitedly telling him about this new book she just got in the mail or about how her foster brother is coming to visit next weekend, and he can barely keep his omelet down for the way that his stomach churns at the thought of her eating breakfast with whoever the mystery man is. If she doesn’t invade his space at breakfast, she’s finding him in the hallways between classes and utilizing the internet to show him something funny she found online. She’s always doing things like that. He’ll have not checked his phone overnight, and when he walks across campus to the classrooms where there’s internet, he usually has at least ten messages from Emma. The texts load in the dorm, at least for him, but the pictures and videos never do.

They’re living in a semi-dark age, obviously.

And Killian isn’t exactly going out of his way to avoid running into Emma. He’s obviously a glutton for punishment, and he will seek her out at dinner so that they can sit together and talk about their days and so he can see and hear that beautiful laugh of hers. It’s all normal, he tells himself, until one day he’s walking down the halls to the office to use the printer when he passes by her classroom and sees her showing some sort of video on the Waltz. Emma likes to add in little elements of fun into her history lessons, often incorporating pop culture moments, but she certainly doesn’t look to be having fun demonstrating the dance with Andrew Barron who seems to have two left feet.

Killian smiles as he stands in the doorway, his heart fluttering at the way that Emma even with her spitfire personality, stays so calm so as not to embarrass the lad.

Emma catches his eye over Andrew’s shoulder, and the little half-grin she shows him gives him the courage to step in and ask Andrew if he may have the dance with Ms. Swan.

“What are you doing?” Emma asks, the incredulousness obvious in her voice, but he ignores it in favor of folding his fingers over her hand and placing his left hand just below her shoulder while she places hers on top of his.

“I’m helping you demonstrate a Waltz, love.”

“I think we were doing just fine.”

Killian leans in a little closer so that their bodies are nearer to each other than they have any right to be. “Well, perhaps I just wanted to dance with a beautiful woman.”

Emma blushes, and her lips part to say something, but he doesn’t give her the chance, quickly moving his feet so that their bodies begin moving along to the music still playing on the projector. Her chest is visibly heaving and a little flushed, and it takes the sound of the metal leg of a desk scraping against the tile floor to remember that he’s in Emma’s classroom and that this is technically a lesson.

He should not be staring at her breasts.

“It’s really a rather simple dance,” he explains to the class, flashing them his broadest grin as his skin still sparks from the heat of Emma’s touch. “At least this version is. And if all else fails, you simply have to pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

They all nod in agreement, smiles on their faces, and Killian doesn’t fail to notice one of the students pulling out his phone to record them. He’s sure that it’ll make the rounds of the school and quite possibly the internet sometime soon, but he doesn’t really care, not when this is the most fun he’s had in days.

“Where’d you learn to do this?” Emma questions, her eyes lighting up as she looks up at him.

“You’d be surprised what they teach you in the Royal Navy.”

Her lips stretch out from one side to the next in a slow smirk, and Killian swears that his entire body is on fire. “I’m impressed, Mr. Jones.”

“As you should be, darling. And if you ever need someone to save you from a horrific dance lesson, you know where I am.”

“The only person who saves me is me.”

Killian winks as the music winds down to the end. “Aye, well, it never hurts to have a little help, especially when one of us is much better with our movement than the other.”

She scoffs and reaches out to slap his arm, but Killian stops her, grabbing onto her hand and bending down to press his lips to her knuckles, his eyes never straying from hers so that he can see her sharp intake of breath and the way that her eyes widen so that all he can see is green.

“It was a pleasure, milady. I’ll see you in our faculty meeting this afternoon, aye?”

And then he’s walking out of the classroom with a thundering heart, barely able to remember that he needs to pick up the papers he had with him when he walked into the room.

It’s wrong to want to be with her when she is likely with someone else, and yet here he is still doing things like that.

Killian vows to himself to back off and to stay away from her outside of actual work duties and friendly conversation, and that seems to last less than eighteen hours as Emma simply keeps finding him or he keeps finding reasons to talk to her. It doesn’t help that the video that was indeed taken of the two of them dancing has begun circulating throughout the school, and all of Killian’s students bring it up to him, each of them wondering why he and Emma aren’t together.

Life isn’t boxed into pretty pictures and graceful dances, and just because two people move well together does not mean that they are meant to always move in the same direction.

They don’t get it, but he doesn’t expect them to. They’re all teenagers who have experienced little when it comes to love and relationships, and even if they all feel that deep pang of the heart one feels when they are attracted to someone, they don’t understand that this is some kind of pipe dream.

He may sound a little juvenile even thinking that, but it’s the truth.

And their hope and faith in he and Emma being together does nothing to tamper down the feelings still festering in his chest.

The hopelessness he feels makes him wonder if he should take the step forward and tell Emma how he feels. At least then he’ll have the words off of his chest and no longer have the little inkling in his brain that makes him think that there’s hope there. Then again, that’s rather selfish, isn’t it? All that does is let Emma have to walk around with the weight of his feelings on her shoulders, and he can’t do that to her.

For all he knows, she is still dating that guy, and he’s been too much of a coward to ask his students if they know of her going on another date. It’s an invasion of privacy, one he can’t take, so he doesn’t.

January fades into February in the blink of an eye, the chill of a Maine winter somehow getting colder and filled with much more snow, and most outdoor activities get cancelled in favor of spending time indoors, and that’s exactly how he ends up supervising a movie night with none other than Emma Swan.

Life is funny that way.

The common room is full of all of the residents of his dorm, each of them huddled around the projector that Killian’s brought in to watch the new Spiderman movie. The cafeteria provided popcorn and snacks as well as a few cans of soda for everyone to drink, and the excitement of the students is palpable. They don’t get to do things like this too often, especially with the eleventh-grade girls from Emma’s dorm being mixed in with his guys, and he’s happy to let them simply be teenagers.

Just…under a hell of a lot of supervision from their teachers, so not a hell of a lot of freedom.

It’s probably been about fifteen minutes since he seriously had a look around the room, though. He trusts these students, and it’s not as if he can’t see absolutely everything that’s happening. Plus, he’s far too distracted by the way that Emma’s thigh is brushing against his under the blanket that she brought in to combat the chill from the cold stone building they’re in.

She’s relaxed this evening, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail and black-framed glasses perched on her nose, and she has on an oversized white sweater and a pair of leggings, thick socks pulled halfway up her calves. They’re both out of the dress code tonight, as they’re allowed to be, and it’s nice simply to feel normal.

The students aren’t the only ones who are restricted here.

“This movie is so cute,” Emma sighs. “I mean, I remember feeling exactly like that when I was a teenager and had a crush on someone. The overthinking and always trying to find a way to spend time with them or to brush your hand over their forearm.”

“I don’t think that stops when you get older.”

“No, I don’t think it does.” She twists to the side and smiles at him, and the insane creatures that live in his stomach start fluttering. “I think we simply get a little smoother in our actions, but I do think we overthink things a little more.”

“Why’s that, love?”

She shrugs. “We know more. Love is…scarier, I guess. Our hearts have been broken and bruised, and even if we feel the thrill of attraction, it’s dampened by the fear of what happens if the person we want to be with doesn’t want to be with us.”

It’s like she doesn’t even know.

The again, she doesn’t.

“Yeah, true,” he breathes out as his eyes move away from Emma and back up to the screen where the kids are on the plane traveling to Europe. “Then again, you don’t have to worry about that anymore, do you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Killian grits his teeth, his fists clenching beneath the blanket, and he’s almost reckless enough to say something else.

Almost.

Thankfully, though, one of his students asks him if he can turn the volume up on the movie, so he has to rise from his seat and move to the projector to adjust the settings. When he returns to his seat, the conversation is long since forgotten, and he can move on.

He has to move on and put some distance between the two of them.

Emma doesn’t seem to have any inclination to let him because even though he makes a conscious effort to not spend time with her over the next few days, she is still always around. If she’s in the dining hall, he skips a meal. If she’s in the library, he finds somewhere else to make his lesson plans. If she’s in the lobby of the faculty apartments, he turns right back around into the cold even if all he wanted was to go up to his apartment and go to bed.

The only time that he’s safe is when it’s his nights to sleep in the dorms and supervise. She may have been in there for movie nights, but that was simply a one-time thing.

Nothing else will come of it.

At least, that’s what he tells himself until he’s sitting in his classroom entering grades during his planning period, and his door opens before slamming shut behind Emma.

“Swan,” he says in greeting, furrowing his brow together as he takes her in. “What are you doing in here? Do you need something because I – ”

“Why the hell have you been avoiding me?”

“I have not been avoiding you.”

Emma rolls her eyes and steps in closer to him with her arms crossed over her chest, and he’s reminded that he quite fancies her when she’s yelling at him. And when she’s not. It’s an all the time kind of thing. “You have been avoiding me. Every time I see you around campus, you bolt in the other direction. That’s called avoiding, Jones.”

“That’s called coincidence.”

“Well, that’s a lie.”

He minimizes his screen as if that will somehow help the pounding of his heart sounding between his ears. “I can assure you, darling, that it’s not.”

Her jaw ticks, and he can hear the click of the heel on her boot tap against the floor while she looks up at the ceiling. “You know what, fine,” she huffs, uncrossing her arms and slapping her hands against her thighs. “If you’re going to be a dick and avoid me and lie to me instead of telling me what I have done to make you mad, fine. That’s just how it is.”

“I am not angry with you. What could possibly give you that idea?”

“The avoiding me thing.”

“Again, I’m not avoiding you,” he lies as more guilt festers in his stomach.

“You are,” she shouts, only to look behind her and bring her bottom lip between her teeth and quiet her voice to a low hiss. “You are avoiding me, Killian, and I thought we were close enough to be adults about this and actually say what’s going on in our lives.”

“Yeah, like you told me that you were dating someone.”

Oh fuck.

He did not mean to say that.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing. Just, leave it alone.”

“I am not going to leave it alone, Killian. I have worked here for three years, and in those three years, I have never gone more than two days without talking to you. It’s been a week and a half, and I want to know what’s going on.”

“Well for fucks sake,” he groans as he stands from his chair and walks toward her, anger and confusion coursing through his body so that his brain doesn’t bloody work anymore. “I was backing off from spending time with you because I couldn’t deal with the fact that I was flirting with you while you had a boyfriend.”

She nearly recoils, but she stands firm. Stubborn lass. “You were flirting with me?”

“That’s what you got out of that?”

“What else am I supposed to get out of it?”

“The bloody boyfriend part, Swan. You have one of those, and it’s not right for me to be blatantly flirting with you and spending time with you when you belong to someone else.”

“First of all,” she starts, holding up a finger, “I do not belong to anyone else. I belong to myself. Second of all, I do not have a boyfriend. I don’t know where you got that idea. And lastly, I wanted you to flirt with me, you dumbass. For someone who is literally the king of innuendos, you surely don’t know how to notice when a woman is interested in you. My God, I was ready to slap the shit of you so many times. I still am right now.”

His brain is broken. Just…it is broken. Because the words Killian is hearing cannot possibly be coming out of Emma’s mouth. They wouldn’t even come out of her mouth in his wildest dreams.

And because he’s an idiot, he doesn’t focus on what he’s supposed to focus on. “I think you have a boyfriend because the students told me you went out on a date.”

“A date? When the hell did I go out on a date?”

“I don’t know. A bloody month ago. I’m sure the two of you are happily in love by now.”

“You are positively daft, aren’t you?” She scoffs and shakes her head from side to side before hiding her face behind her hands. “Like, I cannot believe we’re even having this conversation.”

“You should be able to. You came into my classroom. I didn’t seek you out.”

“And we’re running back in a circle again.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. It means nothing.”

The two of them stand in silence as they stare at each other with the air around them thickening with words unsaid. Killian isn’t sure what’s happening, can’t remember the words that have been said and the words that haven’t, and for what may very well be the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to say.

Somehow, he has been rendered speechless.

All he knows is that in this entire mess he missed out on one very important sentence.

Emma is going to kill him, probably, and he doesn’t even care. Killian narrows his eyes and sways closer to Emma, very much invading her space as a smile curls on his lips while his heart absolutely hammers within his chest.

“Swan, did you say that you were interested in me?” he teases, and God, her perfume smells fantastic.

“No,” she blatantly lies, “no, I didn’t.”

“You did, though. In all of that mess of a conversation, you said you were interested in me. You wanted me to flirt with you. Love, you have a crush on me.”

“What are you? Sixteen?”

“Thirty-two,” he answers as his hands cup her cheeks and feel the smooth skin under his touch. Her cheeks are warm, nerves and embarrassment and anger obviously causing the flames to ignite beneath her pale skin. “But you already knew that.”

Her eyes flicker up to his, and Killian will never quite be over just how gorgeous they are. Her eyes fill his dreams at night and light up his days.

“Emma?” he whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

There’s a short intake of breath from Emma, and his stomach flips. Despite the circumstances, he expects some kind of rejection from her. He doesn’t expect her to surge up on her toes and press her mouth over his while her hands thread into his hair, but she does.

Emma kisses much like everything else she does. She’s rough, passion being the first thing to burst through, but then once a little work is done, she’s a little more gentle and delicate as the blooming heat between them wells up and bursts so that little sparks of electricity trickle down his entire body and encourage him to pull Emma closer to him while his lips decide to take charge and devour her the way that he has always wanted to.

It’s a funny thing, kissing Emma Swan. A part of Killian is sure that this isn’t real and is all part of some kind of fever dream caused by the below freezing temperatures outside, and yet he knows from the warmth of her body – every inch of it – and the little gasps that she’s letting out that this is very much real.

This is real.

He bites down on her lip to tease her, to make her sigh more, and he’s very much satisfied with the result as a little whimper escapes past her lips and his hips press into hers so that they can get a little friction while his hands fall from her hair to travel down her arms and land on her waist, fingers dipping back into the pockets of her pants so that he can feel the firmness of her ass.

Thinking about taking her back to his apartment and fucking her into the mattress, though, is the exact thing that has him remember that they are standing in his classroom where students could walk in at any second.

It’s why he pulls back, if only just a little. His forehead stays pressed against hers, nose brushing against the skin of her cheek while his eyes finally flutter open to see the smile on Emma’s face.

“So, you were avoiding me because you thought I had a boyfriend?”

“I was an idiot who let the school gossip get to my head.”

Her fingers thump against the back of his head. “It was two dates. He’s a nice guy, but I couldn’t get into it when I have far too much fun flirting with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Do you want to, um…do you want to come by my apartment tonight?”

“I do,” he answers gleefully, “but I can’t. It’s my night to supervise my dorm.”

“Shit,” she hisses, and he absolutely has to kiss her again for that.

“I’ll call Rob and beg him to take my place, aye?”

“Okay, but don’t let him know why. I don’t know about you, but I don’t exactly want any more of my life to be gossip amongst teenagers.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

The bell rings then, a blaring alarm in his ears, and the two of them spring back from each other like they’ve been burned. Emma nearly runs out of his classroom, only leaving him with a sly smile on her kiss swollen lips, and instead of greeting his students at the door, Killian hurries to sit down at his desk and calm himself down so that he can teach this class like he isn’t currently consumed by the fact that the woman he has been pining for actually has feelings for him as well.

And that she wants him to come over tonight.

Robin better pull through for him and pay him back for all of the times that he’s changed shifts with him.

Killian can barely think for the rest of the afternoon. It’s nice that math comes automatically to him and that he can teach without too much thought, but he’d kind of like to think that he’s mature enough to not be completely and totally consumed with thoughts of a woman.

This is obviously not any woman, though. This is a woman who is bloody magnificent in every way imaginable, and all he wants to do is feel the softness of her lips once more.

And as slowly as the day passes, it does pass. He’s got after hours tutoring today as well as a basketball game to attend for at least a little while, but before he knows it, he’s in the boys’ dorms showering the day away and brushing his teeth once more before getting dressed in a pair of jeans and a button down that will not at all keep the cold away from him, especially with the way that he leaves the top few buttons undone.

He doesn’t plan on staying outside for too long anyhow.

Grabbing Emma’s headphones that he has yet to give back to her in the past month, Killian walks out the door of the dorm room faculty stays in when not in their apartments, and begins walking down the hallway to the exit.

“Where are you going, Mr. Jones?”

“I have some errands to run in town, Tyler,” he explains before flashing him a smile. “Mr. Locksley is taking my shift for the night. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask him, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

And then Killian is walking out of there faster than he’s ever walked and stepping out into the cool winter air before quickly dipping back inside the faculty building. He walks through the lobby, saying hello to everyone sitting there, before taking the stairs up to Emma’s apartment. She lives on the floor above him, and when he pokes his head through the hallway door and there’s no one there and no one wandering outside who can see up to the apartments, Killian quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway before knocking on Emma’s door.

When she opens it, she quickly ushers him inside before he can see that she’s wearing naught but a black robe with her hair cascading down her shoulder in loose waves. She smells like heaven wrapped up in a stick of cinnamon, and had he not been in Emma’s apartment several times before, he’d probably want to take a moment to look around. Instead he holds out her headphones while his eyes flicker down to her chest and the swell of her breast that he can see under the material of her robe.

“You know, Swan,” he teases, purposefully lowering the timber of his voice, “it seems that I have come over to your apartment simply to return your headphones to you, and you are dressed for something else.”

With a roll of her eyes, Emma leans forward and takes the headphones and places them on the table in her entryway before she’s wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him back into the apartment. “You see,” she sighs, “I was getting dressed, and I thought to myself how much I really didn’t want to have to put on pants with buttons again. And since we have, like, three years of unresolved feelings that we need to get out tonight, I figured that I’d just save us a step or two by not getting dressed.”

His hands find purchase on her hips, fingers tumbling toward the tie of the robe to undo it, and the little lingering fear in the back of his mind that he’s ruining something really good in his life goes away know that he knows Emma is still able to tease him.

“A man likes to be courted first, you know?” He slips her robe open so that his palm spreads out over the warm skin of her stomach, and it takes everything in him not to let his eyes flicker down to peruse her body. This is very much about what’s physical between them, but it’s also about so much more. “I don’t want you to think that I’m simply going to fall into bed with you.”

“I also have a couch.”

Killian’s laugh rumbles up from his stomach before he’s capturing her lips in a fierce kiss so that the laugh fades away into a growl that rumbles in his groin instead. Yet again, her warmth is bringing him back to life as her kiss lights him aflame. This is everything like their kiss in the classroom, but there’s an undeniable heat to it now that wasn’t there earlier.

The first kiss will always be special, but this means so much more to him because Emma didn’t run away. She’s seeking more of him.

His hand moves up her stomach to run across the lace of her bra, and he smirks into her kiss because he knows that she put this on specifically for him. Emma gasps when his fingers flick the material down so that his hands come into contact with a quickly hardening nipple while his tongue sweeps into her mouth in a warm slide that has every hair on his body standing at attention.

Emma’s tongue is sinful, her body even more so, and Killian is so damn distracted by the way that she feels against him and in his hand that he doesn’t even notice that she’s started to unbutton his shirt until sharp nails are scratching against his skin.

“Eager, are we?” he growls as his lips make a swift detour down her neck to kiss skin he hasn’t gotten a chance to taste yet.

“Are you complaining?”

“You’ll not find me complaining about one moment of tonight.”

Emma chuckles as she cranes her neck to the side so that he can continue to devour her skin. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’re always complaining about something.”

He flicks her peaked bud and scratches his beard along her flesh. “That’s because I didn’t have you in my arms.”

“Cheesy.”

“I’ve heard you like cheese.”

Killian is sure that she rolls her eyes, but he doesn’t see that because he’s kissing her again and trying to back her up to the bedroom. The apartment is the exact same layout as his, so he knows the way down the hallway. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t nearly trip over Emma’s shoes or hit his hip against a hallway table, and they definitely stop against several different walls to continue devouring each other as well as undress the clothes from their bodies.

Though, he does rather wish he could see Emma in black lace for a little longer, but seeing her bare of everything but gooseflesh is much, much better.

She’s stunning with her toned muscles and creamy skin that seems to stretch on for miles, and he tells her so as his lips map her skin, leaving his mark against her while arousal continues to stir within him, his cock hardening at every little gasp and breathy moan that Emma elicits.

This woman has been one of his dearest friends for years now. How did he ever got so lucky to be able to drag the whiskers of his beard across the sensitive skin of her thighs while her fingers grab onto his hair in an attempt to move him to the slick flesh where he knows that she wants him.

She wants him.

Emma Swan is currently writhing on her bed unable to string more than a few words together because she wants him and is incredibly turned on by the things that he’s doing to her body.

Smirking, Killian bites down on Emma’s inner thigh before dragging his nose along her skin and breathing out over her folds before slowly flicking his tongue against her clit. Her grip tightens in his hair while her other hand bunches into the sheets, and Killian is pleasantly surprised by the way that she cants her hips up into him. The attraction between them is undeniable, the passion hard to tamper down, but they are also new to each other. He doesn’t know what makes Emma tick, but he’s extremely eager to learn. Slowly, tenderly, carefully Killian kisses her and shows her just how much that he cares about bringing her the pleasure that she’s finding at his touch.

At her instruction, Killian flattens his tongue and drags it against her once, twice, three times before dipping it into her entrance so that she moans in response. Killian looks up at her then through his eyelashes and sees the crane of Emma’s neck against the expanse of her body, and he smirks into her folds before continuing his efforts to continue to make her writhe. When he slides a finger into her, then another, the moan that Emma lets out is downright dirty, and he can barely breathe when she hooks her ankles around his shoulders and tugs him closer to her while she starts to pant and his own breath gets a little short.

“Like that,” she gasps out, and the sound of her voice goes straight to his straining length that’s pressing into the mattress. “Oh, fuck, just like that.”

It’s the most she’s said in minutes, and he takes the instruction in stride, sucking on her clit and curling his fingers inside of her just like he was until she’s crying out every curse he’s ever known and thrusting her hips into the air while her heels dig into his shoulders. It’s one of the most glorious sights he’s ever seen, and Killian fully intends to spend his entire weekend seeing her make faces similar to that over and over again.

“Glorious,” he promises her as he begins to move up her body, peppering kisses across every inch of skin that he can reach, focusing on her breasts for a few moments before bracing his hands on either side of her head and slowly gliding his mouth over hers, lazily kissing her as she still basks in the glory of her orgasm. “You’re simply glorious.”

Emma sighs as her hand wrap around his neck, and he can still feel her smile in the kiss. “You are not so bad yourself. I think I’m going to have to have you do that again.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“And mine, obviously.”

A chuckle passes through her lips as he kisses her again, swirling his tongue around hers in a dance that resembles their waltz. He’s leading, but Emma is perfectly capable of doing that on her own. He almost wants her to.

And she does when her hand reaches down between him and grabs onto his cock, her touch absolutely electrifying, and he loses any and all sense that he has as he hisses into her shoulder.

“Bloody fuck.”

“You are so British.”

“I never, ah – I never…shit, Swan.”

“You never what?” she teases as her hand continues to move up and down his shaft.

“I never claimed to be otherwise. Do you have condoms?”

“Did you not bring any?”

“I did, but they’re wherever my pants are and I don’t really feel like going to find them.”

Emma laughs, and the sound is as pleasant as it always is, before she’s releasing him and leaning over to her bedside drawer to bring out the foil package. Every bit of him is on edge right now, the ache of not having a release building in the base of his spine, and he nearly loses himself when she rolls the protection down him. It’s all he can do from there to position himself on his knees and take hold of her legs, pushing them back against her chest while he slowly guides himself into her in a thick slide. She’s warm and mesmerizing and every other wonderful adjective that his brain is able to conjure up.

Funny thing, he can’t seem to think of many adjectives right now.

She’s rendered him absolutely speechless once more. The way she feels around him is magnificent, and he could stay slowly rocking with her like this for hours. It’s why, no matter how desperate he is, his pace is deliberately unhurried as the pressure slowly mounts between them. He wants Emma to feel good in this, to find her own bliss once more, and her weak, pleasured cries make him think that she is.

Killian’s hand finds where they’re joined as his eyes do the same, watching himself move in and out of Emma in what has to be one of the most erotic sights he’s ever seen, and her whimpers get louder which each flick of his finger while her moans become more frequent when he shifts over her so that his thrusts can be deeper and the hair on his chest brushes over her nipples while sweat glistens off of Emma’s forehead.

It’s overwhelming, being with her, and this is only the first time. Killian cannot even begin to imagine the road that they have in front of them, but a grin spreads across his lips at simply the thought of it.

This isn’t going to be a one-time thing, and he fully intends on falling in love with Emma.

If he’s not already there.

Emma trembles beneath him as her nails scratch down his back, and the contracting of her walls around him has Killian following soon after Emma and spilling himself inside of her with mangled grunts and groans and a declaration that is so close to love that it causes him to bite down on his own tongue and bury his face in the crook of Emma’s neck while he falls down on top of her, trying not to let his entire weight press onto her body even if the exertion has taken all of the energy out of him.

“So,” Emma mumbles as her nails softly drag across his back instead of scratching into his skin, “as well as you avoiding me seems to have worked out for us to get here, please don’t ever do it again.”

“No, Swan,” Killian laughs, kissing her collarbone before propping himself up and looking at her and the completely disheveled look of her hair, “I don’t think I will. I rather like you too much for that.”

“Good.”

Emma’s stomach rumbles then, this loud, unattractive noise, and Killian rolls off of her with a laugh as he reaches down and removes his condom to tie it up, quickly getting up from the bed to throw it away in the bin. “You hungry, love?”

She sprawls out on the mattress, something he guesses that she’s used to doing, and the goofy, sated smile on her face is one of the most glorious things he’s ever seen.

Killian seems to be thinking that a lot tonight.

“I’m absolutely starving. We worked up quite the appetite. That’s why you have sex before dinner. And then afterward you can talk about ways to improve while stuffing your face with lasagna.”

Killian barks out a laugh as he reaches down to pull up his boxers and toss Emma’s robe at her. “I like the way you think. C’mon, love, let’s go eat. You promised to court me.”

“That I did.”

Nothing really changes between the two of them. Sure, there are kisses exchanged and Killian can take her against the kitchen counter if he wants to (he does want to, and they do fulfill that want), but mostly it’s the same. They still talk and laugh and tease each other until the other gets angry. It’s exactly what he wants, what Emma wants too, and every fear that he has had about them doing this seems to be unfounded.

At least if the first night is any indication.

And the next two nights.

They spend the entire weekend holed away in Emma’s apartment, only leaving so Killian can go down one floor to get his clothes from his own place, and making love to Emma while the snow falls outside and laughter passes between them is a memory that will forever be etched into his mind.

He owes Rob quite possibly the biggest gift basket in the world for taking over his dorm duties.

Eventually Monday does roll around, their weekend between the sheets ending, but there are promises for it to happen again and again and quite possibly as much as possible. Being stuck at a boarding school and living so close together gives them a great chance for dating and figuring this whole thing out.

Secretly, of course. It’s still new and fresh, and Killian doesn’t want anything to come between them until they are settled in this thing.

“Happy Monday,” Killian sighs as he walks into his fifth period Calculus class after lunch Monday morning. All of his classes have been weirdly distracted today, and he’s hoping that this period actually pays attention. “Did everyone have a good weekend?”

There’s a quiet murmur with several answers of yes and a few of no, but then things get oddly quiet when he settles down at his desk and logs into the computer to take attendance. Curious, Killian looks up and sees that every single student is staring at him with absolutely giddy looks on their faces.

“What?” he questions as his brows furrow. They’re still silent with their creepy grins, so he asks again. “What? Someone tell me what’s going on.”

They all seem to look at each other as if they’re debating whether or not to actually tell him what’s on their minds, and a shiver runs down his spine.

Then Caroline Abbott speaks up. “We know that you spent the weekend in Ms. Swan’s apartment. Congratulations! You guys are finally together!”

Killian doesn’t even get a chance to protest, to lie and tell his students that they’re wrong. He doesn’t know how they know, but they do. The rumor mills around here never seem to stop, and this time they certainly didn’t get their facts wrong.

Warmth rushes to his cheeks, blush painting them, and Killian never does get control of his class that day. They’re simply too excited that he and Emma are finally together.

They’ve got to get cable and internet in the dorms. His students should not be this invested in his personal life.

Then again, it’s nice when the entire school hosts a party for he and Emma when they get engaged the next year.

Of course, neither of them has to announce the engagement because somehow everyone already knows.

They’ve really got to get their own place.

#cs prompts #cs fic #cs ff #cs smut #captain swan #captain swan fic

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stellar-alley · 4 years

Text

Everfalls

•Chapter 17•

This is based off of the artwork by oceanteeeth on Instagram! Also shout out to my Beta super.rose.cosplays!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

(Summary: The Losers attend the school's annual field trip to a small island. What possibly could go wrong?! )

The next morning Richie drove the two Ancestors to school in time to meet up at the required time before the bus leaves at 6.

“What animal schedules a school trip at 6 am?” Richie groaned as he parked at his normal spot in the school parking lot. Once the engine was off Richie finally turned to look at Eddie but quickly glanced down at their hands that were intertwined on the console between them.

After the fight and Richie’s terrible impressions, they eventually made up; they both mentally agreed that they can’t risk separating at this point, especially with the trip in literal hours.

“Well we’re here, we can’t bail now,” Eddie shrugged as he looked from Richie, out into the rising sun over the horizon. “Come on, let’s go puppy.” Eddie requested with a smirk as he opened his door, nearly took a step out before he looked over to Richie for help, his big doe eyes shining in the morning sun.

Richie smiled warmly before he hopped out, went to Eddie’s side and took his hand in his to help him down. “M'lady,” Richie said as Eddie stepped down beside him.

In response he got a slap on the shoulder, “Trashmouth” Eddie playfully rolled his eyes. He grabbed his bag from the back and stepped aside to allow Richie to retrieve his own before they closed the trunk and made their way towards the school.

The rest of the Losers could be seen by the bleachers not too far away from where the teachers were rounding up all the other students who were going on the trip.

“Sup Losers!” Richie called out as he and Eddie approached the others.

“Hey Rich, glad you could make it.” Bev shot him a smirk as she took a drag from her cigarette.

“I don't think any of us have ever seen you up before 8.” Mike joked, he turned to Eddie and asked, “Did you have to lure him out of bed with like a 6 shot of coffee?”. Mike didn’t make jokes like that often, but when he did, they were good.

Richie let out a bark of laughter and slapped his thigh, “Aha! Mikey gets off a good one. No but seriously imma pass out on the bus wake me up when it’s time to go home”. No one was sure whether he was being serious or not…

It was a miracle that all of the Losers were conveniently going on this trip. It was an English trip that was always accompanied by the Creative Writing class, which was taught by Mrs. Stuart. So Richie, Eddie, Ben and Stan were all in English together while Bev, Bill and Mike took the creative writing class.

While they awaited for further instructions from their teachers, the teens talked about random gossip they’d heard recently or rant about family/school life. Almost everyone had something to add, almost. Bill nodded and looked interested, yet he never spoke, well unless he was spoken to but everyone got the vibe that he wanted to be left alone (which was correct). So he stood slightly behind Stanley, so close that the taller boy could feel Bill’s heavy sigh on the back of his neck. It sent shivers down Stan’s spine.

When it was time to line up to get onto the bus, the Losers were the first in line. It allowed them to get the luxury of the back seats. Bill claimed the window seat of the second last seat, Stan slid in beside him, the two boys almost immediately fell asleep, Bill head rested on Stan’s shoulder while Stan’s rested on top of Bill’s. Mike claimed the seat behind them, the back seat. He sat on the edge with his feet in the aisle to face his friends. Richie and Eddie took one back seat while Ben and Bev claimed the one in front of them.

Everyone got settled and ready for the hour (or so) ride ahead. Suddenly, Ben whipped out Uno, things just got interesting.

“Don’t you fucking dare do it” Eddie glared daggers at Richie who slowly placed a pick up four card on top of the privious Uno card.

“Fucking hell!” Eddie swore as he tossed the rest of his cards down onto the pile.

Richie couldn’t hold back his laughter as he watched Eddie fume and sulk in the corner. Ben and Bev joined in as they sat on their knees and leaned over the back of their seat and into Eddie and Richie’s area.

“Wanna play another round?” Ben inquired as Eddie shook his head.

“I’m tired- plus if this ass hat pulls another plus 4 card out I’m going to kill everyone on this bus, then myself” Eddie said in a joking tone.

Once Bev and Ben were turned around and settled back into their seat, Eddie leaned his head against the window and his hands on his knees.

Neither of them could deny the fact that they both felt a little claustrophobic on the bus, their Ancestral sides craved to break out and run free. They felt too big for their bodies, like their skin was stretching and their bones were aching.

Richie examined the other Ancestor, the morning sunlight made his freckles shine like stars in the night sky. As much as he wanted to count each and every one of them, his attention was caught by something that rippled over Eddie’s hand. He looked down and noticed how the veins on Eddie's hands, the ones that usually go unnoticed, were dark, almost black. As if someone had injected a black ink like iquo into his veins. Richie quickly slapped a hand over Eddie’s.

Eddie’s eyes snapped down to the hand that Richie held. “It’s okay Rich, it happens on the full moon sometimes. Usually not this early on in the day but- later on it’ll get worse. For the both of us” A grime wave passed over Eddie's eyes as he looked at Richie.

Richie shook his head, slowly, and carefully took Eddie’s hand in his and lifted it up to his face where he kissed the back of his hand, black veins and all.

Eddie blushed, leaned forward and buried his face into the crook of Richie’s neck. Richie wrapped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and held him close. “Get some shut eye, we’ve still got a ways to go…”.

“Okay ladies and gentlemen” Mr Brock said as he stepped off the bus, ahead of the students. “Woah one by one” He instructed as the students began rushing out of the bus.

The losers were the first ones on, that mean they would be the last ones off. Seeing the cliffs, the long green grass, the water that came with the salt in the air, Eddie and Richie were dying to get out and be one with nature. Their extra energy had them bouncing in their seats as they waited for the line up to slowly make its way out of the bus.

“Tag” Richie whispered into Eddie’s ear the moment he stepped off the bus. Immediately afterwards he started sprinting away from the bus, his Ancestral blood pumping through his veins, a certain weight lifted off their shoulders as they ran out in the open. Richie had ran in a circle around their group of students before Eddie quickly caught up and slapped his back-

“Boys calm down!” Mrs. Stuart, called out with a small glare.

Richie halted, Eddie ran into his back. They both turned and giggled like little school girls. “Good one Rich, getting us in trouble before the tour even starts” Eddie mumbled as Richie elbowed him back in response.

Soon a representative from the island came to talk to them and explain how they’d go to the main castle and that’s where they’d meet the tour guide. During that time, Riche took a moment to survey his surroundings.

The wind blew in soft bursts through the tall lush grass on the outskirts of the small city, which consisted of the main building, which could’ve been called a small castle by the way it looked from the outside. Not only was it a castle but it also dubbed as a hotel. But there were also about 20 houses and some general stores. Beyond the main city area, the grass flowed out onto the gravel beaches and into the white waves. Farther out, down a hill there would be ruins of the original city that once laid there. All that was left were tunnels, caves and cement foundation.

“Now this would be a cool place to spend a full moon…” Richie’s voice drifted off as he imagined it in his head.

“Hmm sure” Eddie replied without taking his eyes away from the teacher who was speaking.

“Seriously though! Imagine it, running wild in the ruins, frightening the villagers” Richie jokes. Eddie rolled his eyes, Richie sighed, “Okay what about the beach? You can’t say you haven’t imagined spending a full moon out by the water” he reasoned as he looked at Eddie straight on.

Eddie’s arms that had once been crossed were now down by his sides, “Even if I did, it’s not like we can, our safest option is to just spend it with your dad. We cannot risk getting caught, not now” he huffed.

The wolf knew the rabbit had a point, but he couldn’t help thinking what it would be like to live like the Ancestors had before, at one with nature.

“So if you would kindly follow me into the lobby where you will be introduced to your tour guide for today” The man explained as he led the group through the little town area that separated them from the castle.

All the students oowed and awed at the old fashioned buildings that sat on either side of the road they walked on. Everything was made out of red burgundy bricks, wooden rooftops and white fences.

“It is kinda cool…” Eddie mumbled to Richie.

The group approached the castle and noticed the professional looking lady that stood on the front steps. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming to our quaint little island of Balmoral” The lady held her arms out to welcome the students before she continued her speech. “This island is protected by the ocean on all sides, the only way of accessing it is during the day while the tide is low. So our time is short, that’s why I’m so glad we get to have you all hear for the limited time between high tide, shall we begin?”.

“That’s what I was saying! Come on Eddie spaghetti you really need to start listening to me-“ Richie was cut off when he ran into Eddie who was walking infront of him, but had ubrutly stopped. “Woah what’s up spaghetti-“

“Shut up trashmouth” Eddie hissed, his eyes wide, body frozen in shock. Before Richie could question him further, Eddie took a few swift steps and practically hid behind Richie’s taller figure.

“Shut up- Shut up shut up!” Richie turned to face Eddie who shrank back, away from Richie touch. His voice was low and anxious, he was almost shaking as his eyes finally met.

“Woah what’s going on. Eddie talk to me” Richie whispered low enough for only Eddie to hear. To comfort Eddie, Richie reached his hand out and placed it on the back of the other’s head, sliding his fingers under Eddie’s beanie and into his hair. He felt Eddie physically melt into his touch

Eddie hesitated before he Began, “T-That lady is-“.

“Everything okay?” Mike asked with concern as he came up from behind them.

“A-Asthma” Eddie gasped as he started waving his hand around as if he were gesturing for someone to give him something.

Richie rapidly clued in on what Eddie was gesturing to. He did that dance when you check your pockets, he tried his inner jacket pocket, outer jacket pocket, amd both of his pant pockets. Then hre remembered where he kept it and leaped to open his bag’s back pocket. Quickly he yanked Eddie’s spare inhaler from the pocket, shook it rapidly and handed it to Eddie.

The rabbit barley had any time to question why Richie had it before he popped it in his mouth, one pump, two pumpes. Finally his breath slowly began to return.

“I-I’m okay” Eddie breathed, releaved to be able to have his breath back.

“Always prepare, right Rich?” Mike clapped him on the back, shooting him a proud smile before he went to catch up with the rest of the Losers who were at the front of the group. Stan had noticed Eddie’s little attack and instead of leading the rest of the group towards the ancestors, he suggested they go towards the front to hear what the tour guide had to say, in hopes that they wouldn’t notice what was happening.

Eddie and Richie stayed behind as they turned to face eachother.

“What the hell is going on?” Richie demanded with a serious tone.

“Me? Why the hell do you have my spare inhaler? I knew I lost this thing!”.

“I took it to be prepared for exactly this” Richie said.

Eddie began theoriesing, “But my asthma never fucking acts up anymore so why-“.

Richie sntached the inhaler out of Eddie’s grasp and shoved it back into his pocket, “OKay I was worried? Sue me. What the fuck happened in the first place?”.

It was almost as if Eddie had forgotten what he’d seen only minutes before. “That lady, the fucking tour guide, is in the council-“

“WHAT!” Richie exclaimed, catching everyone’s attention in doing so. The students, teachers, and the lady tour guide all turned to stare at the all too shocked teenage boy and his smaller, feistier boyfriend. “What do you mean this was Shakespeare's summer cottage! That’s so cool” Richie joked as he forced a laugh. Thankfully his shitty performance made everyone feel awkward enough to look away as the tour guide continued her introduction.

“Jesus trashmouth” Eddie groaned as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Not the time Kasbrak, you've got some explaining to do” Richie rubs the back of his kneck as he closes his eyes in hopes of rubbing away the emarrasment he just endured.

“That lady is Elizah Brightmoon, she’s the leader of the fucking council” Eddie stressed.

Richie raised his eyebrows, “What? How the hell is she here?” He interrogated.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know? What are we supposed to do! If she sees me I’m as good as dead. And we both know they wouldn’t mind that” Eddie glanced away, behind Richie’s shoulder to look at the tour guide, Elizah. She was explaing the plan for their day.

“Call your parents they must know what to do” Eddie waved wildingly at Richie who proceeded to search for his phone.

The teen found his phone in his inner jacket pocket and quickly dialed his dad’s mobile number which Went had him memorize when he was a kid. His heart nearly stopped when he heard the beep and a robotic voice tell him that he’s ‘Out of range of any cellular towers’ and that he should ‘please find the nearest cellular tower to continue your call’.

“Shit, I don’t have service” Richie groaned as he ran his hand over his snapback, carful not to reveal his wolf ears.

“What does that mean?” Eddie lifted an eyebrow as he had yet to grasp all of the human’s concepts of technology.

“I-I can’t call them. We’re on our own” Richie realized.

“Now if you’d follow me then we can begin our tour of the castle” Elizah began as she moved into the castle. The group slowly followed behind her, Richie and Eddie shared a look or worry before they tilted their heads down and followed behind everyone else.

The tour actually went fairly well, once they were shown the main lobby of the castle, Mr Brock split them up into two groups, one group went with Eliza while the other went with Mr Brock and Janet, one of the other tour guides who was, according to Eddie ‘some random lady he didn’t know’.

By the power of lucky, or magic, Eddie and Richie were put into the group led by Janet. Aside from the two being nearly overwhelmed by worry, they were actually kinda able to enjoy the tour with their friends.

First Janet led them through the castle, citing off random facts about its creation and the builder. Which The Losers mostly listened to, Rich and Bev made jokes about what the creator probably really did in each room, Eddie complained about how dirty everything probably is (and worried about the whole council thing). Ben, Stan and Mike actually listened and tried to take notes. Bill tried to as well but he couldn’t help but notice how tense Richie and Eddie had become.

Sure things were tense between Eddie and Bill (Richie too, even though Bill didn’t know Richie’s secret, he was still on edge), but it was as if they made a mental agreement to stay on opposite ends of their group and keep to limited conversation if any.

Before they left the castle, Janet showed them around the lobby. The room was massive, and very fancy. White tiled floors, high ceilings with intricate designs made of gold and silver. In the middle was a massive crystal chandelier that hung elegantly from the ceiling. In the main area of the lobby there were couches and love seats for people to sit or wait, the main desk, and in the back there was an almost museum like set up.

The tour guide held her hand out to show off the display cases infront of her as she led toe group towards the back of the lobby. “Here we have our artifact sections. Everything here had an important part in Balmoral’s creation, from the first shovel that broke dirt to the last weapon that was used as defense” Janet paused in the middle of the mini musem to allow the students to wander and look at the artifacts.

There were about 10 display cases that house various items, shovels and pickaxes as Janet described, as well as old knives, daggers, rusty old guns. But one gun in particular caught Bill’s eye, it looked newer, cleaner and shinier. A familiar small patch of rust around the mussel.

Old memories flooded his mind as he recalled the various times his father had sat him down and told him his latest and greatest story from the most recent hunt. Bill’s lips unconsciously curved into a grim smile, his eyes became a little wateryer as his hand brushed overtop of the glass casing. It couldn’t be, it can’t be…

A hand landed on his shoulder, breaking Bill out of his thoughts, “You okay Big Bill?” Mike asked curiously.

Bill quickly wiped at his eyes, catching any tears that might have managed to escape during his emotional moment. “Yep, yep. A-All good” Bill nodded, turning away from the case to face the rest of the group.

“Wanna go check out the murals?” Mike inquired, already steering Bill in the direction of the paintings.

After the castle Janet showed them outside through the big glass doors in the back of the mini musem. From there she took them around the fields surrounding the town. Mr. Brock gave them a mini lecture of the history behind the island and it’s original purpose while the students listened and took notes as it would help with their final project. The teacher explained that the final project would have the students do a presentation on one of the town’s famous stories that they’ve picked up on the trip. Balmoral was famous for various pieces of lore and make believe creatures, so the students had a lot to choose from.

The group was already sat outside so when the teacher announced it was time for lunch they simply opted to stay outside and eat on the lush grass by the water.

“Guys I’m kinda feeling a little uh homesick, might go on a walk, anyone want to join me?” Richie urburtly stood up.

“Yeah, love to” Eddie pipped up.

“OKay good, thanks, bye guys” Richie waved and they were off before anyone else could get a word in.

“Well that was normal” Beverly noted as she took a bit of her sandwich.

Stan inhaled and let out a loud sneeze, “Allergies”, he brushed it off.

Bill kept an eye on the two who were walking away from the group. He leaned over to Stan “Keep an e-eye on the-them, something isn’t ri-right” He whispered.

Stan shook his head, retrieved a kleenex from his pocket and whipped his nose. “What do you think is wrong?” He inquired.

“I-I don’t know” Bill lied. Sure, he didn’t knew exactly what Eddie’s intentions were but he knew for sure that he wasn't human. He saw it with his own eyes! That day at the sleepover, ears like a rabit, the night before, eyes as blue as ice. He’s literally seen Eddie transform into a rabbit.

Bill couldn’t stop replaying the events from last night in his head. ‘Where I come from, if he isn’t from here then where the hell is he from? There’s this council, and they rule above all else. After I saved him, they came in. Apparently I had ‘gotten to close’ and ‘revealed our secret’ These must be pretty fuking important secrets if they would kill an innocent man just to keep them hidden.

My dad didn’t do anything, he just wanted some time away from the hecticiness of the Denbrough household, is that too much to fucking ask? Now Eddie, my only fucking lead might be a dead end! And if he isn’t to blame then who the hell is? Some fucking council?

He snapped out of his thoughts when a hand touched his own. What Bill hadn't realized was that his fingers had curled into fists, tight fists, white knuckles and all. He slowly released his fists when Stan rested his own hand on top of them.

“You okay?” Stan asked curiously, his big blue eyes as pure as ever.

Bill sighed, his shoulders sagged, “F-Fine”. Stan leaned away from Bill and sneezed again.

Their day was almost over, they only had one place left to go which was Shakespeare's cabin, but that’s when Stan sneezed into his elbow. When he looked at the sleeve of his grey cardigan he noticed the disgusting looking mucus that now sat on the material. Not even a minute later Stanley stumbled over his own feet, he reached out to grasp Bill’s shoulder and even out his center of gravity.

The sudden touch ripped Bill’s attention away from the two ancestors and he re-focused it on Stan, who was now leaning up against him. “Are you oh-okay?” He asked, worried.

Stan looked up into Bill’s eye as he wrapped his arm around the other’s shoulders for support. “I’m fine Bill… I’m fine” Stan mumbled, his voice almost too mumbled to understand. A moment later he snapped his head away from Bill and proceeded to vomit all over the nice tile floor of the castle’s lobby.

Word Count: 3855

What happened to Stan? Will he recover from whatever he has? What will happen to Eddie and Richie as the full moon approaches? Will Elizah find out about the two runnaway Ancestors?

Find out next Friday on Everfalls!

I hope you guys liked this chapter and are excited for what's to come! Cause trust me- it's goooood. So take a seat, stick around for a while, and enjoy the ride.

That's all from me, until next time

So Long and Goodnight

[Taglist]

@richietoaster @s-onora @that-weird-girl-blog @beproudtozier @ghostnebula @bellarosewrites @s-s-georgie @lermanslogan @iamcupcakefrosting @madidraw @gazebobullshit @thoughtfullyyoungduck @aangzukos @ambitiousskychild @reddieonwheels @breadheadscorpius

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!

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queen-of-the-avengers · 4 years

Text

For Better or Worse

Characters: Vampire hunter!Peter Parker x Vampire!Reader

Word Count: 2,024

Warnings: kind of fluff? but mostly angst, vampire shit

Summary: There are vampires and vampire hunters. Vampires fear the Parker and your families. They’ve taught you everything you need to know. But there is one thing they don’t tell you... what happens when one of you turn into one?

Squares Filled: vampire au for @marvelredteambingo // “i don’t believe you” for @spider-man-bingo // gods and villains for my first card of avengersbingo // hero complex for my second card for @avengersbingo

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

The world is a dangerous place. There are creatures that run amok that only cause death and destruction. Yes, you're talking about vampires. They are creatures of the night with a thirst for blood. Your family has been hunting them for centuries. What you know, you've learned from them. You've killed approximately ten vampires in your life, all of them bloody and violent. You've never met one who was actually nice or wasn't thinking about blood.

You know everything there is to know about vampires. Your family taught you how to kill them, but your best friend taught you how to understand them. Peter has been there for you ever since you could remember. His family and yours are notorious vampire hunters. Even non-vampires fear you.

It was hard growing up and transferring to different Schools. People were scared to make friends with you because they knew what your last name meant. Teachers wouldn't fail you in fear of getting fired, lunch lady's gave you the best food because they knew what kind of weapons your parents had. The principal let you get away with almost anything. Everyone treated you like you were the monster; All except Peter. He treated you like an equal.

Both your families moved around together so you and Peter were always together. He made life bearable. He's the one to show up on your dates when you got stood up. He’s the one to go shopping with you when the other girls wouldn't. He was even your Prom date when no one asked you. He's the best thing to ever happen to you, and you don't know what you'll do if you ever lost him.

Speaking of, you're on your way to his house right now to binge-watch whatever's new on Netflix. It's dark and late, but you're only a few blocks from his house. This is the perfect time for vampires to strike, but you're not worried one bit. Your mom would kill you if she knew you left the house without any protection. but vampires knew better to stay away from the town where the Y/LIN and the Parker clan live. Your families pretty much ran the vampires out of town and scared the remaining ones in to not coming in. Plus, you're two minutes away, and then you'll be safe in the arms of Peter.

The alley you're in is dark and gloomy, but you see the light at the end of the tunnel. Once you pass through that, Peter's house is only a block away. You're halfway through the alley when you hear someone scratching their nails against the dumpsters. You look back only to see no one there. You just want to get the hell out of here, so you turn to run, only to smack right into another person--man.

"Where are you going?" he sneers.

Years of kicking vampire ass and long-ass training sessions with your family made you prepared so that you can kick anyone's ass, including this "tough" man. However, when he smiled, you can see the moonlight shimmer off his newly cleared fangs.

Shit.

"What? No witty comeback about how I need to savor this moment because you're going to kill me?" he laughs. "What about you telling me that your hunter friend lives right around the corner so he's going to come save you? Hmm?"

"You must not know who I am. I'm part of the YI LIN family. And that "friend" you mentioned is part of the Parker family."

You didn't know what to do since you have no weapons on you. You just hope he's dumb--or smart-- enough to run away.

"I know," he laughs. "I watched you leave your house... weaponless. Your friend, well, one of my friends is making sure he's distracted enough. Don't worry, she won't hurt him too much. Now, It wouldn't be fair to kill you without giving you some kind of edge. I'm a vampire, not a monster. So, I'll give you to the count of ten before I sink my fangs into your neck," he lets go of you. "One, two, three..."

It takes you three seconds to realize he's not joking. You take off running as fast as you can. All those training hours at the track better not fail you now. You're not sure how much distance you've made, but you're not about to look back now.

"Seven, eight, nine, ten," the vampire grins.

He's on your ass in a second, and he drags you back into the alley. You scream for help, but he's clasped his hand over your mouth. His chest is pressed to your back, and that gives him perfect access to your neck. Curse you for putting your hair up. He leans down really close to your ear and speaks with hatred.

"I was going to kill you, but your family has put mine through so much pain. You think you know what a vampire is? Reading all those books has got you prepared, huh? Think again. I'm not going to kill you. I'm just going to turn you."

He sinks his fangs into the side of your neck. Pain flourishes from the initial site and spreads a burn throughout your body. You squirm and thrash in his arms, but he's got you pretty locked up. He takes enough blood from you to keep you calm and still, then he shoots his poison into your body. Each vampire stores enough poison in their fangs to turn one person each. Turning humans into vampires is so uncommon because vampires save their poison for people they love and want it. Turning someone out of spite is n't unheard of, but it’s unlikely. You guess you're just one of the unlucky ones.

The vampire pulls away when he's finished, and your blood drips down his chin deliciously. You drop to the ground with a loud thump, but the vampire just stares at you. He smirks and takes out a white handkerchief to wipe away the red crimson. Only until there is no more white left to be seen on the small cloth does he drop it next to your body.

"Let's see how well you do as a vampire. You think you know us, but you don't. None of you do. Now, you're going to see what it's truly like to be one of us," he finishes and walks away.

The alley is quiet, no one is coming to save you now; not like they could if they wanted to. The damage is already been done. What little blood you have left seeps onto the ground in a pool next to your head. All is quiet until a few seconds pass. The wound on your neck starts to heal itself as the poison works its way through your body. Every imperfection you thought you had goes away as the poison tries to correct what's been flawed. Your hair becomes fuller and shiner, your body becomes thinner and toner, your eyes become a shade brighter, and your blood becomes that of a vampire's.

You take your first breath in ten minutes. The world is different than what you knew. Everything Is brighter and clearer. You can hear things from miles away. You can smell things that have been buried deep within the earth. Everything is changing for you, especially your bloodlust. You turn and go back the way you came. There has to be something you can eat. The good thing about being a hunter is knowing where and how vampires get their blood. The bad thing is you're no longer a hunter.

You never made it to Peter's house.

Being a vampire isn't what you were expecting. Everyone has always said vampires are ruthless monsters, but you don't feel ruthless or monstrous. In fact, you feel like yourself only with heightened senses. While you do have a craving for blood, the people you've been staying wins have shown you ways to drink blood without hurting anyone.

You were kind of nervous to talk to other vampires because of who your family was, but they were all so welcoming. There is a rule that it doesn't matter where you come from, you'll always be accepted. You didn't know this was a rule. There's a lot of things you didn't know. The vampire who turned you is n't speaking to you, but it's a good thing. You don't know whether you'll thank him for turning you or strangle him.

While you're still getting used to drinking blood now, your life isn't all that different. In fact, you're a better person than you were before. Vampires have all these amazing powers and abilities that you use them to help. For example, you volunteer at the hospital now since your blood can heal others. It can 't heal major diseases like cancer, but you do what you can.

Being a vampire isn't all that bad. They aren't monsters, just misunderstood.

Now all you have to do is tell Peter and you're good. Fuck telling your parents. They've been lying to you ever since you could comprehend what the word "vampire" meant. You can 't keep this a secret for much longer, so you’re on your way over to his house right now.

"Oh my God, you're alive," Peter says when he lets you in.

"What does that mean?" you ask nervously.

Did he somehow find out about the attack?

"You've been MIA for a couple of weeks. I finally see you only when you want to talk. Is everything okay?"

"Yes and no. look, there is something you should know. I'm not sure how you're going to take it, but please don't hate me."

"YIN you're scaring me. What is it?"

"A few weeks ago when I was supposed to come over for Netflix night, I was attacked. By a vampire."

"What the fuck? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?" he exclaims.

"I want you to know that I'm okay. Nothing about who I am has changed," you beg him to listen.

"YIN, what happened?" he asks slowly.

"Maybe we were wrong about vampires. They're not monsters. We only thought that because that's what our parents taught us. We don’t know them."

"You were turned, weren't you? I don’t believe you," he voices his fear.

Instead of telling him, you show him. You open your mouth and slide your fangs down. As soon as he sees this, his whole demeanor changes. Gone is the playful adventurous guy you knew only to be replaced with the hard and scary version he only presents in front of vampires.

"Get out," he says with a stone-cold look.

"Peter, it's still me. I'm still your best friend. I haven't changed. I'm not dangerous; I never was," you beg.

“You don’t understand vampires like I do,” Peter says calmly. “They’re vile, evil creatures. If uncontained they spread like a disease.”

“You do know I’m standing right here, right?”

Peter looks at you with an expression almost unrecognizable. This isn’t your best friend, and you’re not so sure you’ll ever get him back.

“Are you?”

”I’m still me! I haven’t hurt anyone. I’m volunteering at the hospital. My blood heals people, Peter. Does that sound like a monster to you?”

“If not now, you will hurt. Vampires are natural predators. It’s in your nature to hunt and kill. Now, you’re lucky I haven’t put a stake into your heart and I will if you don’t leave within the next five seconds. One...”

You don't give him another second before you're speeding out of there. You only went to him because you thought he would be understanding. You two have been together since you were in diapers. How can he not see that the person you are now is the person you once were? You guess whatever his parents taught him is stuck deep within himself.

Whatever the case may be, you lost your best friend.

You got new ones, but they'll never be him. If he can't accept you for who you are, then you guess you didn't know him at all.

If you want to be tagged, add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@awkwardfangirl2014 @kendall-michele @gh0stgurl @miraclesoflove @sammypotato67 @justalonely-nerd

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nauseateddrive · 3 years

Text

SUSPENDED by Alan Swyer

About to head off to conduct an interview, Pete Tarcher winced when a call came from his soon-to-be ex-. “How busy are you?” Suzanne asked before Tarcher even had a chance to say hello.

“Very. I've got a crew meeting me in Burbank.”

“Tell 'em you need to reschedule.”

“Because?”

“Jeremy's about to be suspended from school.”

“Let me call you from the car.”

Driving west toward Santa Monica, Tarcher listened uncomfortably via Bluetooth while Suzanne briefed him about their son's predicament. Then he asked an even more uncomfortable question. “Sure he wants me involved?”

“He thinks the world of you.”

“Sure has a funny way of showing it.”

“Kids take sides when their parents are going through divorce. Plus –”

“Yeah?”

“How'd you get on with your Dad when you were that age?”

“How well do he and I get on today?”

“I rest my case,” replied Suzanne.

After hanging up, Tarcher found himself contemplating the ways in which he and his son were different yet had much in common. Whereas Tarcher, proud of his New Jersey roots, was willfully outspoken and, when necessary, eager to get in someone's face, Jeremy was very much SoCal: soft-spoken with a winning kind of shyness, except when playing baseball, where he was a smiling assassin.

It was athletics that had long served as the primary bond between father and son, with Tarcher spending countless hours mentoring Jeremy in sport after sport. Though soccer, basketball, and football were part of his early years, it was always baseball that took precedence. Initially that meant Tarcher playing catch before school, pitching Wiffle balls to Jeremy in the backyard, and hitting ground balls to him at different parks. Once Jeremy turned nine, frequent trips to a local batting cage known as Slamo were added.

It was at Slamo where Jeremy, whose classmates, post-Little League, embraced computer games rather than team sports, formed friendships with kids who shared his zeal. That in turn opened the door to travel teams. The ensuing tournaments, first across Southern California, then farther away as well, often requited overnight stays, intensifying the ties between father and son.

Upon entering high school, Jeremy promptly had an experience that mirrored one from Tarcher's youth. While getting ready for fall baseball practice on a Tuesday afternoon, Jeremy was confronted by two vatos who were in the process of shaking him down when into the locker room stepped Junior Hernandez, co-captain of the team by day and reputed gang member.

“What the fuck you doin'?” screamed Junior when he saw what was happening.

“Be cool,” replied one of the toughs. “The motherfucker's white.”

“White or not, he's my teammate!” snarled Junior, ready to do some serious ass-kicking.

That, in a different sport was a reenactment of what happened to Tarcher, whose savior was Victor Washington, captain of the basketball team and heavyweight Golden Gloves boxing champ of New Jersey.

In another way as well, Jeremy followed in his father's path. To gain acceptance from his teammates and other in-groups, he assumed a double-life: a wild and crazy jock who, without calling much attention, happened to be in the school's Honors Program.

One person not fooled by Jeremy's protective coloration was his freshman English teacher, Ms. Vaughn, who was also the adviser to the school paper. Recognizing a talent that he himself might have otherwise not acknowledge, when Jeremy misbehaved in class one day, she issued an ultimatum: serve a week's detention, which would mean missing fall practice, or join the newspaper staff. Starting as second-string sportswriter, Jeremy rose to sports editor by his junior year, which yielded a peculiar series of omissions. Since reporters were not allowed to mention themselves in their stories, as Jeremy progressed from the youngest member of the varsity to its star, the sports pages carried more and more tales of game-winning hits, and shutouts thrown, with no mention of the player responsible for the heroics.

Little surprise that by his senior year, Jeremy requested, then demanded, a transition from sports to features, which inevitably led to the call from Suzanne that had Tarcher racing across town.

Pulling into a visitor's spot in the high school parking lot, Tarcher walked purposefully toward the administration building. He nodded to a security guard he knew from attending countless baseball games, then to a couple of students he recognized, before stepping into the principal's outer office. There he immediately received a frown from his son, who was seated unhappily on a wooden bench.

“You don't have to be here,” Jeremy grumbled.

“I don't do anything because I have to,” answered Tarcher. “I'm here because I want to be. And for the record, it was your Mom who called me.”

Without another word, Tarcher approached the reception desk. “Pete Tarcher for Anne Marceau,” he announced to the woman there.

“She's expecting you?”

“You bet.”

The receptionist picked up the phone and spoke softly for a moment, then faced Tarcher and pointed. “She's –”

“I know,” said Tarcher. As he headed toward the appropriate door, out stepped a well- dressed black woman who smiled.

“I just saw the film you made about the criminal justice system in San Diego,” Anne Marceau stated with a smile.

“If you're trying to butter me up,” replied Tarcher, “this is not the time.”

“Come in,” said the principal, ushering Tarcher into her office, then closing the door and motioning for him to take a seat. “How much about this situation do you know?”

“Let's assume I know nothing, so you can start at the beginning.”

Anne Marceau took a deep breath. “You're aware of your son's article?”

“Like I said, assume I know nothing.”

“Jeremy wrote an extended piece about a day in the life of a tagger here at school.”

“Was it informative? Well-written?”

“Not the point,” insisted Ms Marceau. “Aside from the fact that tagging is gang-related –”

“Not always –”

“Largely. This is something I know a lot about.”

“And I just fell off the turnip truck?” countered Tarcher. “Which one of us created the LA County Teen Court system?”

“Then you know what a scourge graffiti is.”

“I also know that street art is the most exciting form of artistic expression today.”

Anne Marceau took a deep breath. “You're not being sympathetic.”

“While you threaten to suspend my son? What exactly do you want?”

Anne Marceau stood and paced for a moment before again addressing Tarcher. “For Jeremy to divulge the name of the tagger who's anonymous in his article.”

“And if not, he's suspended?”

Anne Marceau nodded.

“So you're telling me that Jeremy will wind up with a black mark that could influence not merely the colleges that are recruiting him, but also the pro scouts who have been coming to see him play.”

“There are consequences in this world.”

“Want to talk about consequences?” Tarcher asked, rising to his feet. “Ever heard the word retribution?”

“I-I'm not sure I follow.”

“Didn't you say just a little while ago that tagging was gang-related?”

“What's that got to do with anything?”

“Let's suppose the guy Jeremy followed is a gang member. Think he's going to shrug if outed? Take it in stride? Turn the other cheek? You're talking about putting my son in harm's way!”

“No need to raise your voice,” said Ms Marceau warily.

“Oh, yeah? Tell me what point you're trying to make.”

“That there's a lesson to be learned.”

“And that lesson is that it's okay to be a rat?”

Anne Marceau cringed. “That's not the way I see it.”

“I don't care if you see it as red, green, purple, or blue. That's the message you're sending. So please listen to me carefully. There's no way in the world you're going to force my son to become a rat. Are we clear? I mean 100 percent clear?”

Anne Marceau took a moment to gather herself. “Okay,” she then said. “I'll consider your point. Are we done?”

“No such luck. How about something called freedom of the press? That doesn't figure into this?”

“I-I think you're making more of this than necessary.”

“Am I?” asked Tarcher. “How do you think the LA Times will respond if they hear about this? Or the local news stations? Or maybe it could even go national.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I don't threaten. I take action. As you pointed out, I make documentaries. Know what? That gives me far better and far different access than if I were, say, an orthodontist, a car mechanic, or a lifeguard.”

“You're making me very uncomfortable.”

“Well guess what,” said Tarcher. “I'm just getting started. Here's the really awkward news. Much of what I do is muckraking. Get my drift?”

“I-I'm not sure.”

“Then let me explain. It might be really interesting to make a documentary about a school that prides itself on teaching kids about their rights, then punishes them when they use 'em.”

“Mr. Tarcher –”

“I'm not finished yet. Here's what's going to happen. If my son is suspended, the first thing I'm going to do is reward him with a trip. Maybe Catalina while he's missing school. Or even better, Hawaii. Understood?”

“Pete –”

“Then I'm going to use every resource at my disposal to make the world aware of what transpired, as well as who's behind it.”

“Please –”

“Next, I'm going to explore what other students have had their freedom of expression abridged. Why? Because the more I think about it, the more I can see a documentary like this appealing to Netflix, or HBO, or maybe PBS.”

Anne Marceau sighed. “What exactly do you want?”

“You're an intelligent women. What exactly do you think I want?”

Still seated on the wooden bench in the outer office, Jeremy looked up as his father emerged from Anne Marceau's office. “So?” he asked.

Tarcher eyed his son for a moment, then spoke. “Let's just say that Koufax is still the greatest lefty ever, Greg Maddox the best righty, and Tony Oliva the best natural hitter.”

“That's all?”

“And the sun will come up tomorrow morning.”

With that, Tarcher headed toward the door, only to have his son follow.

“Wait,” said Jeremy. “I-I don't know what to say.”

“Then maybe it's best to say nothing.”

Jeremy took a moment to reflect before speaking. “Thanks,” he then offered.

“For?”

“Coming. And helping. And being my dad.”

“I'm here when you need me.”

“I know,” stated Jeremy. “But that doesn't mean I'm not still upset at you.”

Tarcher studied his son for a moment, then smiled. “Likewise.”

Back on the freeway, Tarcher couldn't help by think about the contrast between his professional and personal experiences. Because he made documentaries – about the criminal justice system, Eastern spirituality in the Western world, breakthroughs in the treatment of diabetes, and even boxing – most people assumed that he was showing the world as it is. Yet Tarcher knew full well that with his films he could exercise significant control thanks to the people he chose to interview, the questions he asked them, and above all the choices he made during the editing process by sequencing and selecting the sound bytes used.

In real life, in contrast, control ranged from minimal to none.

That made real life – and especially his life – infinitely harder.

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meredith-fabray · 3 years

Text

friday vignette || mer+thea

WHO: Meredith Fabray + Thea Baker WHEN: 12/04 WHAT: Mer shows up at Thea’s classroom to start off their weekend. WARNING: roleplay scene + spanking

@devtheabaker

Meredith Fabray

The past 48 hours had been difficult to say the very least. The teasing and the edging had her mind reeling and the new title for Thea made everything that much more torturous. She had gotten dressed that morning in exactly the outfit Thea had chosen- pleated plaid skirt, white blouse, white thigh highs, a pair of saddle shoes and white cotton panties. Her make up was natural looking and soft blonde wavy curls were kept out of her face by a pale pink headband. The panties currently stuck to her and she felt more needy than she was willing to admit. After the last bell, she hurried over to Thea’s room and dropped down to her knees, waiting patiently as the students shuffled out. She bit gently into her lower lip, knowing that her cheeks were slightly flushed.

thea baker

Thea knew she'd be a liar if she claimed Friday's class had been her best. The week had been long, stressful and at times painful, and her thoughts that day had been largely filled with Mer rather than her lesson plan. Knowing that the blonde would be waiting for her at the end of the day only made the day itself all that much more long and drawn out. Fortunately her last class came to an end and she could step outside the door, grinning broadly at the sight of Meredith. "Good girl," she praised. "Waiting just like I told you. Stand up for me, and let's take a look at your outfit, hmm?"

Meredith Fabray

Her cheeks only darkened at the praise and a smile tugged at pretty pink lips. “Of course I am, Mistress.” It was the first time she’d used that title and it felt so very right. Mer pushed up and onto her feet obediently. Her hands went to smooth out the light blue white and pink plaid skirt and she tucked a stray strand of blonde behind her ear. She loved it when Thea chose her outfit, she loved the knowledge all day that she was pleasing someone simply with the clothes she was wearing.

thea baker

Thea watched with hungry eyes as Meredith showed off the outfit she'd chosen. She looked every bit the perfect schoolgirl, from her headband to the shoes, and there was a brief moment of amazement in her that someone like Mer could want to be so perfect for her. "Good girl. Now, why don't you pull up your skirt for me? I'd like to see just how wet you are." The edges would have left her a mess, Thea knew, and having to show it off publicly would hopefully make it even better. By the time Thea took her later, she wanted Mer to be desperate.

Meredith Fabray

Meredith resigned herself to the fact that she’d be blushing from now until they went to sleep. “Yes, Mistress.” The blonde bit into her lower lip and let her fingers tease the hem of the skirt before pulling it up right there in the hallway to show off her white cotton panties that stuck to her clean shaven sex. She felt like a complete mess right now and she was relieved that Thea seemed to be pleased by the sight of her.

thea baker

It was impossible to keep an impassive expression as Mer lifted her skirt. It was a simple act of Dominance, but one that Thea enjoyed. And she would keep Meredith safe, staying alert for any sign that she was uncomfortable with the game they were playing. "My goodness," she teased, running her fingers along the fabric. "Those are just ruined, aren't they?" One finger delicately traced her lips through the sticky fabric. "That's alright. You won't be wearing them too much longer."

Meredith Fabray

Mer sucked in a sharp breath as those fingers found the wet fabric. Her clit throbbed behind that wet cotton barrier. She trusted Thea to keep her safe, this woman could literally put her through an entire scene right here in the hallway and she’d be reduced to a whimpering mess but she’d feel safe. Those words sent a shiver down her spine. “Yes, Mistress... they’re completely ruined.”

thea baker

"Such a naughty girl," Thea scolded playfully. "Ruining those nice panties thinking of me. I think you need a reminder to behave in school, hmm?" Taking Mer's hand, she pulled her gently into the classroom and shut the door behind them. "Take a marker, please," she gestured. "Lines - I won't be naughty in school." She hadn't planned this part of the scene, but it felt right. "I'm just going to get a yardstick."

Meredith Fabray

The blonde whimpered a little at the scolding and the question that followed. She had the urge to whine and stomp her foot but she refrained. “B-but-“. She couldn’t even finish her thought let alone her sentence as Thea pulled her into the classroom. Her lips parted and her brow creased a little at the request before it was explained. Mer grabbed the marker and uncapped it. She cleared her throat gently, “how many, Mistress?” She began writing the phrase over and over in her perfect penmanship. The blonde bit into her lower lip once more at then mention of the yardstick.

thea baker

There was a familiar electric charge that ran through her at the way Meredith protested. Things had evolved but her partner was willing to play along, and Thea hoped they'd both have fun with it in the end. "Let's say...fifteen. I think that should be enough for you to learn your lesson." Approaching from behind, Thea lifted her skirt and tucked it out of the way to ensure she had access. "Concentrate now." The first slap of the stick across warm skin was muted by fabric, but hard enough to be felt.

Meredith Fabray

Meredith rose a brow. “But I-“ Again, she found herself at a loss for words as her skirt was raised and the other woman was speaking. She was putting the period on the first sentence as she felt the yardstick on her slightly bruised ass. The little blonde yelped and her cheeks went pinker than her headband. She steadied her hand and began the next line.

thea baker

"Good girl. Just like that. Careful with that marker now, I'd hate to see you make a mistake." She brought the yardstick down a couple more times, not too hard but enough that it did the job. Truly she didn't plan on the blows being punishing, the effect was more in the humiliation than the pain.

Meredith Fabray

Each and every hit got a little squeak or yelp out of the blonde. She tried to keep her hand as steady as possible and managed to get to line five before her marker faltered slightly. It still resembled the letter y but the tail was a little longer than intended and slightly more squiggly.December 7, 2020

thea baker

Those little noises only fuelled Thea's need to hear more of them, and she haphazardly scattered the blows as Meredith worked at the board. She looked impossibly cute in her little schoolgirl outfit with her red ass out, and Thea knew they might not even make it to her apartment. "Oh, that's a shame," she shook her head in playful sadness. "But keep going please. We'll deal with the mistakes when you're done."

Meredith Fabray

The small noises that left her with each blow continued. Her eyes widened a little at the woman’s words and her hand stopped mid stroke. “But-Mistress!” She gave a little whine followed by a yelp as she refocused on writing her lines. Every so often her marker would squeak into a tiny error.

thea baker

"Now, now. Complaining is only going to make it worse. You'll just have to take your punishment, and that's that. But don't worry - something tells me if I check those panties of yours that you're enjoying this, aren't you? On display for me while I redden that ass?"

Meredith Fabray

She’d be lying if she denied her attraction to Thea in this moment. She’d be lying if she said this situation and these roles didn’t turn her on. She loved the gap in their age so very much. Mer got a few more lines done- five away from her goal. Her cheeks flushed once more. “Yes, Mistress.” She muttered in response.

thea baker

"That's what I thought," Thea nodded. "But good girl for telling the truth and avoiding any extra spanks. And look at how close you are! Almost done, and then we'll deal with the ones where you made mistakes. But you concentrate very well for someone who's been so naughty in class today."

Meredith Fabray

Everything about this situation had her embarrassingly wet. “ But I was only naughty cause I was thinking about you all day-“. She was cut off by another crack to her sore rear end. Getting through three more without error, she faltered on the fourth and grumbled a little with a whimper.

thea baker

Thea couldn't help her smirk. "That's a good reason, I agree. But you need to be able to control yourself in school all day, not be naughty." She had to hold in a giggle as Meredith messed up another line. "You can do this, there's just two more. Almost there."

Meredith Fabray

mer The blonde gave another whine. “It’s hard!” She knew she sounded like a stubborn teenaged girl and that was sort of the point. It was like she was trying to get her to mess up. Each blow to her rear end came at the worst time per sentence. Thankfully, she only fucked up one more time.

thea baker

tb: "Aww, is it hard?" Thea teased. "That's really too bad, isn't it? I bet you can do it if you really, really try." Her condescending teacher voice was something she'd never use with a real student, but it was helpful in a roleplay situation. "See? Look at that, you made it. Now...would you like to work off your mistakes now, or would you like to find somewhere more private?"

Meredith Fabray

mer The condescending tone just served to turn her on more and it had her giving a little huff and pout. At the question, Meredith bit into her lower lip and considered her options. “Now...” She grumbled.

thea baker

tb: "That's what I was hoping you'd choose," Thea nodded. "I think it'll be better for you to settle up now than later. Bend yourself over my desk, please, hands flat on the desk with your skirt up. I'm thinking two strikes per mistake would be fair."

Meredith Fabray

“But-!” There was never a real argument behind the protests but they felt necessary. All it took was one look from the older woman, the blonde shut her mouth and obediently bent herself over the desk. She flipped up her skirt then laid her hands flat on the cool surface. “But that’s a lot, Mistress.” She whimpered.

thea baker

Meredith's protests were perfectly in her role, and Thea had to avoid a smile at just how well she could play her part. "It is, isn't it? It would have been easier on you if you hadn't made that many mistakes, right? But you won't make them again the next time, I'm sure of it." Her voice changed inflection, just slightly, to catch Meredith's attention. "These will be harder. But you know what words to say if you need them to stop." She wouldn't break the scene for her instructions, but Thea knew it was enough to let Meredith know what she was trying to say.December 8, 2020

Meredith Fabray

"I wouldn't have made that many mistakes if I wasn't being spanked while trying to write!" She squeaked. Meredith was never this mouthy or bratty but she slipped into the role so easily. The blonde noticed the change of inflection. "I know, Mistress." She confirmed. She squirmed a little on the desk, a pout pulling at her lips.

thea baker

Thea raised an eyebrow, coming around the desk to see Mer's face. Reaching down, she grasped her chin firmly between two fingers. "Unless you'd like to see just how red I can turn that ass right here and right now, I would put your attitude in check." She could play along with her own role, and it made her happy to do so. "Good girl," she nodded. Bringing the yardstick back, she brought it down in a hard motion that made the air whistle imperceptibly.

Meredith Fabray

Mer swallowed hard as Thea gripped her chin, it was probably the most attractive move the woman could have made. Her cheeks burned at the words. She mumbled a small apology. “... sorry, Mistress.” The blonde braced herself for impact, a little cry leaving her lips at the first bite of the wooden rod.

thea baker

"Much better," Thea nodded. It was the sort of scene she hadn't done in a long time, but she was very into it and glad to see that Meredith was as well. Bringing the stick down again she gave Mer a moment to breathe. "One mistake done. Very good."

Meredith Fabray

She loved these sorts of scenes, they gave her a chance to be bratty without real world consequences. The second stinging swat drew another yelp from her lips. “How many are there?” She whined.December 9, 2020

thea baker

"Should I stop and count?" Thea rested the stick against Meredith's reddened ass and turned toward the board. "I count five mistakes." There were only four, but Thea wanted to see whether the submissive would try to turn and count them for herself. "So that means eight more to go, hmm? Would you like them all together or a break after each set of two?"

Meredith Fabray

Meredith squeaked and peaked over her shoulder to try and count but she got distracted by Thea chiming back in. She whimpered, “Thats a lot.” She whined, they both knew she’d taken more. “... All together.” She grumbled.

thea baker

"It really is a lot," Thea commiserated in a faux-sympathetic voice. "I guess the next time I ask you to write lines you'll remember this, and you won't make so many mistakes, right? This is how we learn." Nodding, she got herself back in position and began to bring the yardstick down to finish out the final eight blows. Mer was already bruised again, and Thea couldn't help but be a little proud of that.December 10, 2020

Meredith Fabray

Meredith had the urge to be incredibly sassy right now. The way Thea was speaking to her was such a turn on but there was a brat to this character that needed to get herself into more trouble. “But-!” Before she could sass back, that yardstick was drawing another small cry from her instead.

thea baker

"No buts. Except this butt," she brought the stick down again with a smirk. "You're going to take your punishment like a good girl, or I'll just have to start adding more. And while that would be fun for me, I don't think it'd be so good for you. That poor ass of yours would be purple by the time we're done."December 14, 2020

Meredith Fabray

Another little cry left those pretty pink lips. “Nuuu!” She squealed. “I’ll be good, Mistress!” Thea could turn her ass purple later. Having to sit in a car with a purple ass would be no fun. The little blonde whimpered some.

thea baker

"That's what I thought. Take a deep breath now and we're going to finish up." Thea brought down the stick over and over as she counted out the rest of the punishment, finally nodding and setting it aside. "See? You can behave after all. Good girl."

Meredith Fabray

Meredith was quick to obey, taking a deep breath and bracing herself for what was the come. When it was done, her ass burned, she knew she’d be sore in the car but this was nothing compared to the beautiful damage Thea would probably do later. “Thank you, Mistress.”

thea baker

"You're welcome, Meredith. Now, let's fix your skirt - you've been naughty enough today, you don't need to be flashing the whole student body your wet panties on the way out." Thea fixed the skirt and brushed her hand gently over Meredith's bruised ass. "Let's get going."

#Thea #para

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