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#I just think since school is made for education it could be a start and an introduction. To those themes
serica-e · 1 year
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History should be taught better and it's one of the most important subjects. I will die on this hill
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rubberbandballqueen · 9 months
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since i just rb'd a poll abt high school grades now's probably a good time to drop one of my many million-dollar ideas for how to run a high school classroom, which is that i think that at the start of a quarter/semester kids should be asked if they want hw to count towards their grades or not bc i was So Fucking Bad at submitting hw in high school, but my test scores were really good, so i'd rather have not had hw count towards my grades. but obviously there are a good number of kids who are either bad at taking tests or anxious abt their grades dropping and are diligent abt turning in hw, so letting hw count towards their grades would give them some padding in that situation.
#i really Do need to just maintain a doc of all my ideas for how to run a classroom#bc i've been storing some of these in my brain since i was like 12. that's a fucking decade by this point What the hell#the worm speaks#unfortunately it's probably unfeasible to Not have tests n the like count towards a grade at all#like personally as a student i do not hate testing!! as someone who enjoys gathering data / information i'm kind of obsessed w/it!!!#but i also have very strong opinions on TEST DESIGN as well as curriculum design n stuff#like tests CAN be a useful tool for measuring knowledge! if you design it right. and even then it's like. not perfect#one of my other million dollar ideas is that rather than giving out a final i'd give kids the choice to either do like#a freeform project to demonstrate their knowledge in literally Any Way They Want (foster creativity n stuff)#or! they could also just take a paper exam if they want. idk if anyone would take that option but idk.#mostly i'm just fond of the idea of giving high school students a sense of autonomy over their grades n education#like another reason why i think the 'do you want hw to count to your grades?' question should be re-asked at the start of quarters or w/e#is bc sometimes we also make mistakes! and evaluate consequences wrong. or situations change!! so they should be allowed to change things#how much would hw count for if they made it worth anything is honestly not smth i'm sure abt rn tbh#but i also know that i like. would also not even grade their hw on correctness just on completion anyway#a number of my high school teachers did that; bc the point was that we were responsible for ensuring its correctness#they all knew that kids would copy off each other and if that's how you learn. go for it!! my ap calc teacher openly acknowledged this!!!#anyway good lord i really do have limitless rants n tedtalks abt education in me lmao i need to sleebies now#so i can study for my calc quiz tmrw morning ( •̀ ω •́ )y
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canthelpit0 · 1 month
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Jealous girl
Pairing: Chris x jealous!Reader
Wordcount: 5.1k +
Summary: where a girl from school, that you don’t like, somehow knows Chris. Your school life and private life collide, as you decide to make rash moves to get back at her, and teach her a lesson.
Warnings: smut, jealousy, rich kid!Reader, use of y/n, they’re seniors in HS, marking, possessive!Reader (if u squint), pet names, p in v, filming, creampie, unprotected
(A/N: ik I’ve been doing a lot of rich kid reader, but it’s just sm easier 😭 I'm sorry for any grammar errors, English is not my fist language. also, the song has like barely anything to do with the plot.)
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I’ve been friends with the triplets for most of my life. We just click.
I’ve always had a slight crush on Chris, he’s the first one I met.
I was scribbling a drawing in kindergarden, sitting at a table all by myself, when Chris came up to me. He started to talk to me and rant about something, until he declared us friends.
We grew up together, went to the same elementary and middle school. But being a rich kid, my parents wanted me to go to a private high school for better education.
So now I go to a private high school in Boston, while the triplets go to Somerville high school.
At first I really didn’t want to go, since it was a private school with uniforms and all. But my parents weren’t letting up, and even threatened to send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.
So I reluctantly agreed.
There was this girl, Eva. Your basic blonde girl with green eyes.
Now, I never liked Eva’s friend, but that was years ago, and I don’t think they’re even friends anymore.
Anyway, me and Eva share the same AP European history class.
We don’t talk a lot though.
★ ★ ★
I walk down the hallway making my way towards the door. Today was a draining day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.
But I have homework and-
My thoughts are cut off as I stop in my track raising an eyebrow. There was chris, standing in front of the main entrance of the school.
“Y/n?” He asks excitedly. It’s like my brain pauses for a moment.
“Chris?” I ask back.
At this point I hadn’t seen Chris or his brothers in a month or so. I was too busy studying and they were busy with lacrosse.
I live in Boston at the border to Somerville. And Chris lives in Somerville. But my school is 40 minutes away from his by car.
He opens his arms and I gladly hug him. I sigh as we embrace, my eyes closing briefly.
“Why are you here?” I ask. After all, Chris, to my knowledge didn’t have a drivers license and no reason to be here.
“Well, you know Eva? Well I gave her my jacket a week ago and I came to pick it up since she goes to your school-“ He rants, his words come out fast and jumbled by how excited he is to see me.
“How do you know Eva?” The words come out sassy. And honestly if i wasn’t hyper aware of the fact that we’re on school grounds I’d slip in a swear word.
“Well a week ago I was out in Boston shopping with Matt and Nick and this girl came up to me asking for my jacket since she was cold. Just out of nowhere” he starts to rant again, but I don’t even have half the mind to interrupt him.
After all, this felt like two of my separate worlds were colliding. And I didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t seem to dislike her like I did, wich only made me despise her more.
“And you gave it to her? A stranger?” I raise an eyebrow a huff leaving my lips.
I sound more sassy than I intend to, but I can’t help it.
Students walk past us slowly. Being in a private school most people loved it here. They weren’t pushing to leave.
We stand at the side of the main entry, still inside.
“Yeah. She asked for it” he sasses back, matching my attitude. Yet his smile stays big on his face and I could tell he wasn’t serious.
“What if she stole it?” I roll my eyes looking back up at Chris who had a few inches on me.
“That’s what I said too.” He agrees dramatically. “So she offered to give me her snap and told me she’d give it back to me next opportunity she got.”
That seems a bit dumb to me. She’s rich, she could just buy a new jacket if she’s outside and cold.
“You’ve been talking?” I question. I cringe slightly at the jealous tone lacing my words but Chris doesn’t seem to pick up on it.
“Yeah” he chirps back happily.
Oh so now they were snapping too?
He sticks out like a sore thumb. The way he carries himself, the way he smiles and acts, is just a dead giveaway that he does not go to a private school. Let alone, the fact that he’d not wearing a uniform like everyone else walking out right now.
Some people give us weird looks, but most don’t even care.
I purse my lips, if my day hadn’t been bad already, it was definitely ruined now.
The problem wasn’t that he had friends, other than me. But the fact that I knew her and knew how much of a Bitch she is, and how he can’t realize that.
The fact that he knew that she goes to my school, and that i probably know her, But didn’t even bother to mention it to me.
“You know what class she has right now?” He asks me. He actually has the nerve to.
“No.” I roll my eyes. Honestly I couldn’t care less. I only share that one class with her.
I turn on my heel to walk away, but before I can he grabs my elbow pulling me back slightly.
“Please don’t leave?” He asks sweetly.
I huff yanking my arm out of his grasp. Sure it could be awkward standing in front of the main door, obviously not going to this school looking like a lost puppy. But it’s Chris, he’ll survive.
“Chris, I have shit to do”
that’s a lie. I don’t have anything planned today. I just wanted to go home and sleep.
“Pretty please??” I huff turning back around. I stand next to him, my arms crossed as I scan the people leaving the building.
“Cute uniform you got there.” He says licking his lips slightly as he looks over my body.
I was wearing the green plaid skirt. And a basic white, collared button down. Along with the schools signature green cardigan and the tie.
I had so many layers on it was crazy. Since it was a more chilly day in Boston I had my tights on, but under the tights I had Thermo leggings on to keep me warm.
Honestly if people at public schools think the dress code is strict they should go to a private school for a day.
Once three buttons from the top of my collared shirt were unbuttoned and I was dress coded for it.
Atleast the skirt wasn’t horrendously long.
It could still be considered a mini skirt if you squint.
“You say that every time you see me in it” I scoff. I can’t help the fact I’m being sassy, I’m just in a horrible mood.
“I mean it.” He answers.
But before i can respond I hear an annoying voice from in front of me. “Hey Chris.” I turn my head to look at Eva.
The bitch is smiling wide. She was wearing the khaki skirt and the navy blazer with the black tights.
I purse my lips. God I wish I could dress however I want to for school.
“Hi Eva.” Chris greets her with a hug.
I physically try to hold back a scowl. They talk about something and I drown Out Eva’s pitched, bitchy tone.
Of corse Chris wouldn’t pick up on the flirting. But I see the way she smiles at him. The way her eyes trail over his face and linger at his lips for too long.
And I don’t know why I’m getting all territorial, but I guess I’m scared that Chris won’t have time to hang out anymore if he starts dating.
Either that or I just know how much of a bitch she is and I could treat him better than she ever could.
“Y/n this is Eva, Eva this is y/n” Chris makes us shake hands. He introduces us like we don’t know each other.
She chuckles at the silly gesture. She doesn’t hate me and I don’t hate her either. I just don’t like her, and the way she acts.
I’m rich, sure. And I’m more wealthy then her, but atleast I don’t act like a brat.
We start to walk, with them chatting, and me just trailing behind them.
We get to Eva’s car, she’d said something about driving him home or something. Does this girl know he lives like more than 40 minutes away?
My skin crawls at the thought of them being together in her car for that long. All alone.
“Chris come here” I wave him over for a second. Eva doesn’t question it instead going on her phone.
He walks over to me. I grab him by the shoulder to pull him down as I whisper in his ear. “You always pick the worst people to befriend.”
I let go of him. He groans rolling his eyes. His past two friendships with girls he befriended had ended horribly. But it was so predictable.
“Y/n/n. Come on” he scoffs. I turn to walk away to my own car to drive home.
Until he grabs my arm again pulling me back. “Can we talk.” He mumbles his arms wrapping a round my torso his chest pressed against my back.
“Not now.” I huff pushing myself off of him slightly. He wasn’t holding me tightly so I get out of his grip fairly easily.
“Y/n” he huffs.
“Don’t start.” I sass at him. I clench my jaw. I feel disappointed but not surprised. Eva wasn’t the type to show guys she’s interested in just how bitchy she really is.
“I gotta go, have fun.” I smile at him sarcastically. I let my smile drop as fast as it had appeared finally walking away from them.
But when I glance over my shoulder he’s already standing next to her smiling down at her.
★ ★ ★
The whole week after she found out I knew him, she’d constantly call him, and be around me and tell me stuff about him as if I didn’t know.
She’d sho me pictures of them together, she’d tell me jokes that I’ve heard before.
It was just the same old recycled bullshit.
He’d told her that we’ve known each other for basically forever. Why the hell was she talking to me like I didn’t know him?
That weekend I went over to the triplets house like I usually do, ready to sleepover.
I was in nicks bedroom talking to him.
“God, Chris always has terrible friends. And he needs to stop talking to everyone he sees.” Nick says with an eye roll.
This was our weekly complaining session.
“I know right, he befriended some girl from my school-“ I’m cut off by Nick.
“Eva?” I nod.
“I met her a few days ago and she’s so annoying.” He agrees slapping my arm a few times as he gets worked up.
“Right.” I scoff agreeing with him.
“And she totally has a thing for Chris.” He rolls his eyes hard.
I purse my lips. Good to know that I’m not delusional and that someone else sees it too.
After that the conversation topic shifts until Nick is ranting about some random TikTok song, and about how it’s obviously written to go TikTok viral and whatnot.
★ ★ ★
“Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” Nick asks, lying flat on his back, on his bed.
I slept over almost every weekend. And usually I’d rotate between whose bed space I’ll take up.
It is Friday, I always come over Friday after school. And then I stay until Sunday. And Sunday afternoon I go back home.
I always stay over on the weekends unless I have like an upcoming exam or something.
“Uhm.” I pause. I should sleep in Matt’s room tonight. But I want to talk with Chris more.
“Chris” I state. Nick doesn’t even question it.
The last time I’d slept over was over a month ago. and while sure, we did hang out in the past month, I spent all my weekends studying.
Nick had no mind to question me. He couldn’t care less. I could tell he’d missed me, and knowing I was sleeping over was comforting no matter where I slept.
We talk for a bit more until I stand up and pick up my overnight bag. I hug Nick and tell him I’m gonna head to Chris’ room.
We really need to talk about making good friends, and who to not befriend.
Because it keeps happening that Chris will pick out the shittiest people to befriend. And god it’s so irritating having to listen to him complain after they ‘betray’ him.
I walk upstairs to Chris’ room and unceremoniously swing the door open.
Once the door opens I’m immediately greeted with the sight of the pale pink LED’s on. There he was laying on his bed laying ON his side his phone up to his face.
“Oh hi y/n” he smiles at me briefly before going back to staring at his phone.
Chris usually called me any nickname under the sun before calling me my actual name.
Eva’s piercing voice echos out of the phone speakers making my expression sour immediately.
“Hi y/n” she says loudly. I can’t help the eye roll.
“Chris.” I hiss under my breath my eyes narrowed in a glare. He glances back at me his lips pursing in mild annoyance.
He tells her he’s got to go and that he’ll call her back. Chris then hangs up, slightly sitting up, his back pressed against his head bored.
I walk in fully, now closing the door behind me.
I put my overnight bag on his desk.
“I think she likes you.” I say simply my lips tugged into a straight line.
He huffs a laugh as if he thinks I’m joking.
I look over my shoulder, observing the grey sweatpants and white wife beater combo.
He crossed his arms staring back at me.
“I’m dead serious.” I say flatly. “Ever since she found out that I know you, she’s been coming to me in breaks and talking about you like I give a fuck.”
He poked his tongue into his cheek his expression falling flat “you’re serious?” He asks his voice painfully monotone.
“Of corse you didn’t realize” I roll my eyes turning back to look at my backpack.
“Whatever” I roll my eyes. I grab my make up bag that I always had in his room and I walk out the room to the bathroom to take off my make up.
After a few minutes I come back to see him on his phone again.
“Shit you’re right.”
Chris breathes out not even looking at me just saying that. He was going through previous messages only now seeing the underlying flirtation in her choice of words.
I raise my eyebrow at him before it registers what he is saying.
“I know” I say simply.
“How do I let her down slowly?” He asks his eyes finally going up to meet mine. His blue eyes only seem more exaggerated under the pink LED lights.
Before walking away from the door I lock it, he sends me a questioning glance but ultimately doesn’t say anything.
“You know, like how do I tell her I’m not interested, without saying that?” He adds still looking at me.
I walk up to the side of his bed.
I then roll my eyes getting on the bed. I sit next to him my back against the headboard as well.
We’re both quiet, the air in the room thickening. I can practically feel my skin burning up.
“How about you make a bold statement?” I break the silence after a moment.
Before he can respond I turn and get on his lap. My eyes are dark as I Simply sit on his thighs.
His hands go to my waist out of instinct. My arms wrapping around his neck.
He huffs out a breath his cheeks tinted a slight red. “What? you wanna make a sex tape or something?” He rolls his eyes.
I roll my eyes back at him. “That would be bold, but I don’t want her to see your dick.”
“Ooh possessive?” He teases. Chris unconsciously squeezes my side making me whine under my breath.
He chuckles at the sound, but before he can comment on it I’m speaking again. “I was thinking hickey , but if you want to fuck so bad then-“ I cut myself off.
“We can do both” he assures.
I lick my lips. And before I know it I move his face with my hand tilting his head to the side. My lips touch his jawline. I kiss down his jawline to his neck before I start to suck harshly.
He lets out a harsh breath his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
“Easy ma, you got all the time In The world.”
Ma. I genuinely don’t know where he heard that, but at some point he just started calling me ma or mama.
Like I said, he used every pet name under the sun, before saying my actual name.
I pull away for a second my eyes scanning the small purple bruise on his neck.
“No.” I breathe out harshly before starting to peck his neck again. Until I bite down, relatively low on his neck close to the other hickey.
I bite hard, making sure my teeth print would be there while also sucking another hickey into his skin.
He hisses at the harsh feeling, his hands clenching and unclenching on my waist. He doesn’t stop me tho. Quite contrary, I hear a few whines leave his mouth. His sounds sounding borderline like moans.
I pull away admiring his neck.
I move the strap of his wife beater to the side, kissing down his collarbone. I suck more marks into his skin, until I deem it enough.
“You wanna tap this, handsome?” I tease , my eyes meeting his pale blue ones.
His eyes are half lidded and his pupils blown out in pleasure.
It’s really late by now. It’s dark outside. And the light pink LED lights make his blue eyes look even bluer.
“Please?” He asks sweetly his tone feigning innocence.
I can feel the hardness press up against my clothed core. I grin back at him, my eyes dark in lust and half lidded like his.
I cross my arms and tug off my t shirt. I throw it to the ground, letting Chris Bask in the sight of my bra covered chest.
The lust radiating off of him only seems to double.
“So pretty.” He coos. And before I know it he’s leaning forward and kissing my chest.
He glances up at me through his lashes and mumbles against my skin. “Can I leave hickeys too?”
I chuckle at the question. It really didn’t matter for me. My schools dress code is strict and I would have to cover them up anyway.
“Under the neckline” I nod simply. And before I realize it he’s sucking on the tender skin of one of my boobs.
He licks and sucks at the skin, half my boob covered in his saliva now.
I tug in his top. He groans against me, obviously not wanting to pull away. But he eventually does, I pull the wife beater over his head and throw it to the floor.
His hand goes up to cup my other boob while he kisses down from my collarbone to my chest and then sucks another hickey at the top of it.
I card my hand through his hair while I don’t bother pulling him off. He lets me stroke his hair moaning into my skin.
He pulls away, his eyes even darker than before. his hair now messy as well.
I get off of him. He groans at the loss of contact. I can see he’s about to complain. But before he can, I start to undo my pajama pants and slide them down.
My black lacy thong and my black lacy bra match.
Chris had made fun of me for wearing such ‘slutty’ underwear before. After all whenever I showered here I left some of my clothes, namely my underwear, here.
I had my own little section in Chris’ closet filled with my panties and bras.
“Fuck.” He breaths out closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again as if checking if he was seeing things.
He starts to shift and tug down his own sweatpants. He eagerly tugs them off along with his boxers letting his cock spring free.
My mouth quite literally waters at the sight of his hard dick lying flat against his stomach.
He lays down flat on his back looking to his side to look me in the eyes.
“Please ride me ma.”
He says in such a pleading and whiny tone, how could I say no to that.
I walk past his bed to his desk and pick up my phone from where I’d put it.
I walk back tugging the thong off swiftly. I get on top of him straddling his torso. I grind myself against his dick, feeling it glide between my wet folds.
I tug on my bra trying to get it off. And when I finally do, it’s also discarded quickly.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous mama.” He sighs looking at my boobs, both of them having small hickeys on them.
He puts his two hands on my waist lifting me slightly. He trails one hand down to my folds examining my pussy.
I feel him push his middle finger into my cunt abruptly to wich I moan.
He hums as if he was thinking. “So tight baby.” He coos his second hand on my waist caressing my skin gently.
“Gotta stretch this pussy out. We don’t want it to tear do we?” Chris asks sarcastically, obviously joking.
I lick my lips and let out a dry chuckle. His girth really did look painfully big. Atleast for what I was used to.
It wasn’t like he was that big, but it was definitely well above average.
I hand him my phone so he can start recording and that’s just what he does. He uses his hand from my waist to film this.
The camera pointing right at my pussy. He pushes a second finger in, briefly finger fucking me and scissoring his fingers to stretch me more.
“So fucking soaked.” He groans under this breath.
Chris takes his fingers out of me grabbing his hard dick and jerking it for a second. I lift myself and he positions it at my cunt, while also making sure to keep the camera at the right angle.
I push myself down letting out a breathy moan.
His hand, that’s not holding my phone, goes to my waist to steady me.
I suddenly push myself down on him completely. I whine loudly, my body jerking forward at the impact. He groans at the feeling of being balls deep in me.
“You okay?” He asks rubbing my waist gently in comfort.
“Yea” I breathe out my eyes closing as I try to get used to the feeling.
My legs are already numb and I’m already questioning why I’m on top.
I start to slowly bounce myself on him. He watches through my phone, his eyes glued to where we connect, seemingly fascinated by the sight.
“So tight for me.” He breaths out harshly trying to hold back loud groans. He was painfully aware of the fact that his siblings and parents were home.
I start to bounce on him more listening to him shower me in praises and compliments.
“Fuck.” His eyes stay trained on the phone screen, but he occasionally glances up to look at me.
I start to ride him harder the compliments and praise only making me wetter.
“God, come on, get yourself off on my dick like the slut you are.” He huffs. His free hand lightly on my waist to help me steady my movements.
He tries not to be too loud, both for the camera and because everyone is home.
I lean forward slightly and take my phone from his grasp.
I film his face and his reactions now.
His hands go to my waist slightly squeezing my skin as I start to rock my hips harder.
“Good boy, be quiet yeah.”
I feel the knot in my stomach tighten threatening to snap. The constant hit to my sweet spot is so overwhelming, and before I know it I’m releasing on his dick.
my hands are shaky but my phone is still angled at him, catching his mouth dropping in pleasure.
I clench around him letting out soft whines and moans, while Chris uses his hands to make me grind on him.
After a second when I calm down he grins. Chris holds his hand out for the phone that I give to him. He lifts me slightly to show the Camera the white circle my cum created around his length.
He makes no move to switch our positions so I just grind into him.
Chris turns the recording off and puts my phone on the nightstand. His hands find their way to my hips holding me tightly.
But before he can switch our positions like he was lplanning to, his phone starts ringing.
I glance ova seeing Eva as the caller ID. I roll my eyes. I feel pretty over stimulated already, but I want her to know.
“Pick up.” I demand under my breath. Our eyes meet for a moment but he eventually complies.
He leans over and takes his phone, picking up the call with a frown.
As soon as I hear her annoying voice i start to ride him again, making sure that the slapping sounds are loud enough.
He tries not to groan at the movements, trying to keep himself together.
“Eva, uh” he pauses his eyes locking with mine once more. He can’t help it when his free hand on my waist urges me to go harder.
“I’m kind of busy right now”
But she doesn’t get the hint and questions him. “Too busy to talk to me?”
Fucking pick me.
“Yeah well” he lets out a soft groan, pulling the phone away so she doesn’t hear it too well.
She starts to yap about some unimportant shit. Chris puts the phone on the side of the bed sitting up.
I stop moving due to Chris harsh grip. He pulls me off and flips us around.
I grab the pillow re- adjusting it so the side of my face is buried in it, my ass up for him.
He grins a soft slap echoing through the room. He kneeds my ass trying to smooth the pain of the slap.
He spreads my cheeks and pushes himself back in. He immediately starts up a harsh and fast pace fucking me into the pillow.
“Are you having sex right now?” Eva questions sounding like a brat who was just denied a toy
He leans over for a second picking up his phone. “No I’m not, why would you think that” he scoffs continuing his relentless attack to my sweet spot.
My core throbs around him, clenching to try and suck him back in.
“Oh my god you are-“ before she can rant about god knows what, Chris hangs up the phone.
He scoffs his grip in my waist tightens as he continues to forcefully pull me back on him.
He goes to the camera app on his phone starting to film once again.
He admires the way his entire length disappears into my tight cunt, and the way he has a white ring around the base of his cock from my previous release.
He picks up pace even more, if that was even humanly possible, until I feel like im going to cum again.
I turn my face and burry it in the pillow trying to muffle my noises. Because honestly I’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t already know what we’re doing.
“Close” I whine out between incoherent moans.
“Me too ma. Hold it for a bit, yeah?” He says sweetly his harsh actions not so sweet.
“Where do you want it?” He keeps glancing between the camera and me, sometimes angling the camera to show my back and the back of my head too.
“Inside” I whine. And that mildly catches Chris off guard.
He only picks up pace tho, his palm meets my butt again, in a harsh slap. I moan at the feeling. “Come on come for me” he demands.
And before I know it the knot in my stomach snaps once more my thighs shaking and my cunt clenching a round him.
The Camera is focused on my cunt. His thrusts get more sloppy and messy until he gives me one last harsh thrust.
Chris releases into me, filling me up to the brim and stuffing me.
We both stay like that for a moment to catch our breathes.
He stops the recording and throws the phone next to me, onto the bed.
He trails his hand over my ass and lower back, before gently grabbing my hips and pulling out.
He lets out a breath seeing his length covered in our combined juices, and me leaking.
He pushes me on my side slightly, so I’m laying down fully. I sigh turning my face into the pillow my arm under it.
“You okay?” He asks softly. Chris kisses my shoulder softly.
I just realized that we hadn’t kissed once. This entire time, his lips hadn’t been on mine not once. And I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not.
“ m’ good” I sigh closing my eyes briefly.
I nuzzle my face into the pillow, breathing out. I blink my eyes open again sighing.
I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face.
“Were you jealous?”
My eyes shoot open and I turn my head slightly to look at him. “About what?” I say simply playing dumb.
“Why do you not like her.” He asks again.
“I never liked her.”
“Right, and you don’t like that she likes me.” He states simply.
I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself” I huff and nuzzle my face into the pillow.
“You literally have my cum inside of you right now, ma.” He huffs in response.
I purse my lips burring my face harder into the pillow.
“I like that.” He says again making me look back at him. Chris is looking down at me with a sweet smile
“What?” I ask and look at him from the corner of my eyes.
“That you’re jealous.” Chris replies, his smirk ever so cocky.
“Why would I be jealous?” I huff, replying sarcastically.
“Don’t deny it ma. I think it’s cute.” Chris chuckles. He grins down at me victoriously. He lays down next to me staring into my eyes.
Masterlist
A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. sorry for not posting in the past few days, I was just busy with school and didn't have the motivation to write. Feel free to to send me stuff my req and asks are open <3
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
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lazycats-stuff · 3 months
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What about Batfam x male reader where the reader was actually the first child Bruce adopted and he was the practice child. He hated growing io because Bruce had really no idea what to do and then the other kids came along and now Bruce kinda understood what to do. He hates family time because he never felt like family, he was just some doll the others could practice on so later they wouldn't make mistakes. And i imagine at some point they snap. I feel like what if Damian brought over Jon for dinner and Jon was like "oh I thought Dick's the oldest, you never told me about (reader)" and reader just slams down their fist and goes to their room. At this point the rest of the family try to comfort them but the reader only screams about how they never were a son or bother, they were only a practice doll for them to use and then throw away
This has angst written all over it... Ah. Angst train it seems... Also, I think I changed the end a bit, but that's fine...
Summary: (Y/N) was nothing but a test child for Bruce. He finally lets them have it
Warnings: angst, resentment, author sucks at angst, but hey, I tried, yelling, mentions of anxiety, the fam is trying, (Y/N) is mad beyond belief, implications of child neglect... If you can call it child neglect.
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(Y/N) (L/N) was the oldest member of the Wayne family and the first child that Bruce had adopted. (Y/N) didn't have a good life at all before he met Bruce. (Y/N) could also argue that Bruce didn't treat him well as well, since being emotionally unavailable is not a good trait to have when you have children.
As the years went by, he hated growing up in the manor and with Bruce. He had food, a roof over his head and some sort of education. But that wasn't enough. The feeling of resentment that (Y/N) had has only grown as the years went by.
The feeling of being a test to Bruce, to see what he need to improve made his blood boil. He was a test pancake for Bruce and some sort of feedback to Bruce. It made (Y/N) mad beyond. Bruce could have gotten his shit straight when he started to have him as his legal child.
(Y/N) wished that he could forget everything about Bruce. About the family too. Even before Dick came, resentment building up in him nearly exploded. Looking back, he should have exploded on Bruce and Dick... Maybe even punch them. Maybe he should have done it.
When Dick came, (Y/N) saw signs that Bruce was improving, but he didn't show that to (Y/N). Years went by and Damian came. To say that Damian pretended that (Y/N) didn't exist is an understatement. (Y/N) tried to get closer to Damian, but Damian always pushed him away. (Y/N) took the signs and gave up, sadness and anger boiling inside of him. But he did observe Damian and Dick. In matter of a few days, they were close.
Dick did it without even trying.
So, (Y/N) has decided to alienate himself from the family, at least until he gets enough money to leave. Thankfully, the resentment towards Bruce and the rest of the family made him even put everything he had in school, even though no one cared about it. He had straight As and he was on his way to go to college that was far away from here. He knows that he can do it.
Even as Tim and Jason came, (Y/N) tried to be close to them, but none of them cared. None. (Y/N)'s solace became his own room and would avoid the family at all costs until it was time to eat where he had to step out. That only solidified the fact that he was going to leave as soon as possible.
Either way, he just had to alienate himself and move out. Then, everyone in the house would be happy.
However, everything would turn on its head when Damian would bring his boyfriend Jon over to meet the family and by default (Y/N). If only (Y/N) knew what would happen.
Dinner rolled around and came down to eat. He didn't expect to see Jon, but was nice to introduce himself to Jon, trying to be nice and just get this stupid dinner over with. He put some food on his plate and just ate in silence while everyone else talked.
He listened to bits and pieces and just stayed silent. He finished his plate quickly and pushed it away and sipped at his water, just being polite and getting ready to leave back at his room.
" Damian, you didn't tell me anything about (Y/N)... I thought that Dick was oldest of the brothers. " Jon said and (Y/N) froze.
Damian didn't tell Jon about him...
(Y/N)'s anger boiled over and he slammed his fist into the table before standing up quickly, knocking the chair over. Everyone got startled at the actions and watched in silence as (Y/N) left the dining room.
After a few seconds they all jumped into action, trying to stop (Y/N) to comfort him. (Y/N) slammed the door of his room shut, locking to make sure no one could enter, before he broke down on his bed. He hugged his pillow and sobbed into it.
It shouldn't hurt like this. He should have been stronger than this. Not cry over them.
" (Y/N), please open the door. " Bruce said through the door.
" Please, we just want to talk. " Dick added and (Y/N) snapped at that, anger boiling over once again.
" Talk?! TALK?! Stop acting like you care! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs.
" We do care. " Jason started.
" You don't give a single flying damn about me! I was never a son or a brother to anyone! I was only a test toy to Bruce so he could see what he could fucking improve! I was never a fucking brother either! Damian fucking proved it! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his face.
Everyone stayed silent and (Y/N) sobbed his heart out. Damian swallowed hardly, realizing what he did and how that hurt (Y/N) deeply. Maybe he shouldn't have...
Everyone glanced at each other. They stayed silent as they listened to (Y/N)'s sobs. Just how much pain did they brought up onto him?
" (Y/N), look- " Bruce started and (Y/N) screamed again.
" Don't you dare care right now! I'm moving out in a few days anyway and I don't need your pity or apology! " (Y/N) yelled, trying to wipe the never ending stream of tears.
" Moving out?! " Bruce yelled, eyes wide in shock. He know he has no right to tell (Y/N) what to do, but something flared up in Bruce. " No, you're not moving out! You are going to stay put because we have to solve this problem! "
" Are you shitting me Bruce?! Work things out?! "
" I'm not shitting you! I have to make things right with you! You are my son too! " Bruce yelled through the door.
" I don't give a single damn about any of you! "
Bruce took a deep breath, trying not to explode. He knows he has no right to be angry, but (Y/N) was still his son. " (Y/N), I am your dad and we will solve this problem. "
" We won't solves shit Bruce! "
" (Y/N), please, " Tim started, but (Y/N) cut him off. " Shut up Tim! "
Tim bit the inside of his cheek and stepped back.
" (Y/N), " Jason started, " You need to calm down, you'll give yourself a heart attack. "
(Y/N) wanted to scream even more, but he felt like he was going to die from this situation.
" Shut up, all of you! "
Now Dick started. " (Y/N), we may have been bad brothers- "
" May have?! You were- No, you are the worst brothers! " (Y/N) yelled and clenched his fists as he started facing around the room.
Dick sighed and stepped back. At the moment, everyone knew that (Y/N) talking to them without yelling at them and more importantly, he needed to calm down first.
But with how much anger and resentment there is, it is going to take a while.
" Lets leave (Y/N) alone for a while. He needs to be alone for now. " Bruce said and gently moved everyone away from (Y/N)'s doors, who was inside, trying to breathe more normally. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin in the next few moments. He calmed down after a while, but he was still anxious beyond belief.
Unfortunately, the threat of moving out is just a threat and not a promise. (Y/N) sighed as he sat down on his bed. It was a stupid move to say that while he didn't have everything secure yet. Stupid.
(Y/N) went to the bathroom and washed his face and drank some water, to soothe his soon to be sore throat. It won't be nice to talk in a few hours.
Either way, it's better than leaving this room in order to face his siblings and dad. No, they are just roommates here, until (Y/N) can move out and just finally cut them out of his life.
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harlowhockeystick · 5 months
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LOVESTRUCK, WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD ⎯ S. CROSBY
y/n just wants the best for her son, she thinks the program rule of no freshmen players on varsity is stupid. she just did what any mother would do...right?
coach!sidney crosby x teacher!single mom!reader
warnings: angst, smut (fingering, handjob, sex on a table), somewhat of an inappropriate relationship, single parent content, light talk of divorce, lowkey based off of "slut!" by taylor swift
word count: 4,244
a/n: look at that....i do still know how to write
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The bitterness of the coffee wasn’t doing it’s job. On her third cup and it’s not even ten in the morning, Y/N waits for the next period of students to walk through her door. Taking in one of the few moments of silence she has, she refreshes the page on the sports page on the school website, itching to see her son’s name. 
Carter had tryouts with the hockey team last week, he had been talking about it since the beginning of the month. He was training every day to make varsity; in leagues ever since he was ten years old every single coach and spectator could not brag enough on how much talent he had. Y/N was pressured to send him across the country, even out of the country, to go to the top hockey camps but as a single mother she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear to send her baby off to some strangers for a few months, and she couldn't afford to move away from family either. 
But her heart dropped as she refreshed the page, pulled up this season's roster, and saw her son’s name and number on the junior varsity roster instead of varsity. She didn’t understand it, she was told by the coaches herself that he was the best kid on the ice that day. Why didn’t he make varsity? 
Her questions were interrupted by students flooding into the classroom for the start of the next period. She pulled herself out of her thoughts to then teach this class period. Reluctantly though. 
-
The final bell rang and that meant she was done for the day. Saying goodbye to her students Y/N started to gather papers and put them in the “to grade” folder to take home with her before tidying up some areas of the room. She anticipated her son’s arrival. Ever since moving up to high school he always stopped by her room at the end of the day to talk about school and help her carry things to her car. 
“I didn’t make it.” Carter said as a greeting when he walked in the empty room. His face was defeated, his tall slender frame was slumped over in sadness and his eyes welling with tears. Out of all people Y/N knew and saw how hard he worked to make varsity his freshman year. He skated over fifty laps a day, worked on shots in the garage until way past dusk, he also started to lift more weights. 
“Oh baby, c’mere,” Y/N pulled her much taller son in for a hug. There he broke and rested into his mother's arms like a little kid again. He softly cried before pulling away. 
“I don’t get it mom, they told me i’d make it for sure, why would he tell me-” “Don’t worry about it son, I will talk to the coach first thing in the morning. I promise. But for now you have to play the cards you were dealt,” Y/N consoled her son in the way moms know how. Gathering her bags she gave the heaviest one to Carter to help carry out the building. They continued chatting on the way to her car, talking about school and homework he had for the week. Carter was a special kid, he deeply cared about his grade and education. He remembers promising his mom when he was younger that if he ever got to play hockey in college that he would get his degree and not go to the draft early. 
Carter was a momma’s boy through and through. His dad lived an hour away so he spent the weekends there twice a month, but he’s at his mom’s house the rest of the time. Carter is also protective of his mom too. He never told her this, but he’s beat in a couple boys’ faces because they made some lewd comments about her. He’s respectful of her, more than any other man on earth ever has been. Y/N is very proud of how she’s raised her son. 
“Okay son, go to practice. Have a positive attitude, don’t do anything stupid okay? I know you’re frustrated but just go into practice and do you, maybe they got you mixed up with someone else. But-” she saw his facial expressions change and get tense, she knew that he was still angry inside, “hey, don’t get mad at them. Wait until I talk and then you and I will figure something out.”
They walked in opposite directions, Carter to the athletic building and Y/N back to the school for one more item in her classroom. Hustling as best she can so she can get home, she runs into the person she didn’t want to speak to until in the morning. Coach Crosby. 
She felt her body coil and tense up in anger at just the sight. She was supposed to wait until morning, but her tongue got the best of her. 
“Coach! Hey, can I ask you a quick question?” she pulls him to the side, into an empty classroom where the teacher had left for the day. 
“What’s up?” Sidney asked, sitting down on one of the wooden desks. He was wearing black joggers, a tight pullover with a school cap on. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the material of his clothing clung to his toned body. He had been out of the professional league for at least two years, but he still kept up the physical shape of his body, and it was obvious by the way his pants were stretching at the seams on his thighs. 
“I really don’t want to be that parent, but can you tell me why Carter didn’t make varsity?” Sidney cocks his head to the side. He’s only been on sight three months and he’s already dealing with this. 
“Well, it’s my understanding that freshmen must be on the JV team, no matter how good they are. That rule was put in place before I got here.” He explained while crossing his arms over his chest, his muscles making his pullover look incredibly small on his frame. “He’s a good kid though, he’ll make great improvements this year and I'll look forward to having him on varsity next year.” Sidney said, trying to end the conversation and smooth things over.
“But…you’re the new coach. This is your program now, not someone else’s.” Y/N couldn’t really understand what he was getting at. Did he not see the potential in her son that everyone seemed to say? Did he not see the great player, the great athlete that Carter was? Maybe it was just her being a mother, and so obviously her child is the best compared to other kids. But she swore she didn’t want to be like those parents. She remembers being a kid in youth sports herself and hated parents who thought their kid should be player of the week every week. In her mind, she needed to earn player of the week because of her work ethic, not because her parents were board members. 
“Right but I'm not trying to ruffle any feathers my first year. This is barely my program, I need to establish relationships before I change things here,” Y/N takes a step closer to Sidney, her hands folded in front of her. 
“But you’re Sidney Crosby, who can say no to you?” God she feels horrible for doing this, she feels like…like some junior league mom whose husband has nothing between his ears. But she thinks, if she can just rile him up for a minute, startle him, then he’ll change his mind and put Carter on varsity. That’s her end goal, get her son feeling better. If that means pretending to be a horny college student again, so be it. “I mean really, they had to give you this job cause they trust you. So obviously you can do what you want, like putting my son on your varsity team.”
He sighs, looking down at his shoes. He knows what she’s doing…and he can’t believe it’s sort of working. He hasn’t had a woman flirt with him in heaven knows how long. He doesn’t even know how to respond to such a thing anymore. His life for the past almost twenty years has been nothing but hockey. Sidney’s family has been asking him for a long time when he is going to settle down with someone, but nobody ever scratched that itch quite like hockey did. But now? That he’s got a woman in front of him, a gorgeous one at that, who’s buttering him up? Maybe he’ll give in…just to see what it feels like. 
“Your son is a hell of a player, Y/N. He really could go far,” His words got heavier as she got closer, he could smell her perfume, he could feel her breath, he could see her chest move up and down with every huff she took- “so put him on your team, Coach.” she put her hand on his chest softly and she sighed feeling his stern muscles. “C’mon, what’s it gonna take? Dinner and a show?” 
His eyes, dark and blown, looked into hers and if he remembers what the term eye fucking means then that’s exactly what they were doing. His breaths became short but heavy as she left a heavy hand on his chest. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek, trying her best to work her charm that she used to have. She hopes she’s still got it. 
He thinks, thinks, and thinks. This is a bad decision. 
“My place, six thirty tomorrow evening. Give me your best sales pitch, and we’ll see about the show.” 
Sidney stands up and for a brief second his nose bumps hers, an innocent touch but it makes him take a deep breath in to calm himself down. He exits the empty class room and takes long strides to get to practice, glancing at his watch he’s already a few minutes behind. 
-
She’s eternally grateful that Carter is with his dad this weekend. How could she explain to him that she’s not really going on a date…but she’s going to his coach's house with plans to seduce him..but again it’s not a date. Of course, she’d have to leave out the seducing part. She put on her best dress that she had, it was pretty simple but it hugged her figure nicely. She made sure to spritz some extra perfume on as well. 
The drive to Sidney’s house is silent, it’s her having fake conversations in her head about what to say or what not to say. Debating on if her seduction speech was still on date or if it’s too cheesy now. She suddenly feels like she lives in the lowest tax bracket possible when entering his neighborhood; she's never seen so many fake lawns before. She’s actually never been on this side of town much, except to look at christmas lights when Carter was younger. Now that he’s older he doesn’t care for that stuff anymore. 
“Nice place you’ve got,” she said walking into his entry way. To her surprise Sidney dressed up a little bit, wearing a button up with a nice pair of slacks, the top two buttons undone for visual purposes of course. He takes her coat and her purse, hanging it up by the door. “What’s on the menu?” 
“Well, I figured I'd go simple with just spaghetti and toast, with dessert to follow if that’s okay.” Sidney went into his pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine. “This okay?” He holds the bottle in the air and she nods her head, sitting at his kitchen bar watching him pour a glass. She takes a glance at the label and she’s taken back. On her teacher salary she definitely can’t afford that brand.
Maybe she’s in over her head here- she didn’t think about any of this stuff. Suddenly she’s this woman who doesn’t have much to her name, sitting in a millionaire’s kitchen drinking wine that costs well over two hundred dollars- but damn if it doesn’t taste good. 
They make small talk before heading into the dining room where he sets dinner onto the table for her, such a gentleman. Continuing the semi dull conversation she thanks him for making a meal for her, joking that she’s never had a man make dinner for her. Only half true, her dad growing up would make dinners for her family. But when she married Carter’s dad, she was the chef in the family. Not that she was complaining, it was just odd for her to be on the reverse side for the first time in a while. 
“I am sorry about that idiotic rule, Y/N. Carter can easily be a varsity player.” Sidney broke the minute silence after finishing off his second glass of wine that night. She huffs, finishing her plate and scooting it away from her on the table. Was she really about to do this?
“Is there anything I can do, sidney? C’mon my boy’s in shambles, he’s thinking that he’s not as good as everyone makes him out to be,” Y/N reaches her hand out to rest on his softly. “Is there anything I can do?” 
Y/N hoped he knew what she was implying and that she didn’t have to say it out loud. 
And he did. 
He understood every word she said and the words that were left unsaid. He knew what she was implying and he knew what she was getting at. But Sidney hated that he was willing to do what she wanted. Y/N was leaning forward on the table, getting close enough to Sidney where he could smell her perfume and her lotion mixed together, he could see a couple small freckles up close as he couldn’t see them from a bit further away. 
There were no words exchanged between them, his eyes kept drifting from her tinted lips to her lustful eyes, back and forth a couple times before resting his hand on her cheek and pressing his lips against hers gently. Immediately he felt a rush of arousal- it’s just a kiss, really? He silently asked himself. He hadn’t gotten this aroused in a while, a long while. 
Both parties leaned into the kiss, wanting and aching for more. They tasted wine on each other and felt each other’s temperature begin to rise. Sidney got out of his chair, lips still connected to hers, and got closer. She stood up, one hand cupping his chin and the other resting on his chest, and she leaned against the dining table. She hadn’t made out with someone in years, she hopes she’s doing it right. 
She gets pushed onto the table just by the force of his body so now she’s sitting on the wooden table, Sidney standing in between her legs with both of his hands cupping her face. He doesn’t care if he seems desperate or if he seems needy, or if this is totally wrong and against almost all of the words he signed in his contract, he can’t seem to get enough of her. Sidney feels her play with the buttons of his shirt and how she begins to pull the shirt up and out of his dress pants. It was easy since he wasn’t wearing a belt. 
He didn’t even know that she completely unbuttoned his shirt until he felt her hands roam all over his naked chest, her hands slowly raking up and down his toned muscles. He takes a breath and scans her body. Her skin is hot to the touch, her eyes are completely blown now and her lips are parted. “How do I get this off you?” he asked, taking a fist of the hem of her dress.
“There's a tie in the back,” she huffed out, not able to take her hands off his body. Plus, she wants him to take it off of her. 
“You tied this yourself?” he asked in shock, surprised at how she tied such a perfect bow on her back with such thin strings. 
“I’ve been tying, zipping, buttoning my dresses myself for the past twelve years now, safe to say I got pretty good at it.” God- has she been alone for the past twelve years? Nobody to love on, kiss on, touch on this wonderful body of hers? Sidney takes in a sharp breath when he pulls the dress off of her and he gives her body a quick scan over. Wearing a strapless bra that she’s almost spilling out of, she has on silk leopard print panties that he can’t help but notice a significant damp spot on. 
“Fuck,” he mumbles, hands roaming over her soft skin. “Don’t make fun of me, it’s been a long time since I've hooked up with someone.” because that’s just what this is, a hookup. Nothing more, nothing less. 
“I haven’t since I got divorced, so it's the same here.” she hooks her leg around his pulling him closer. He pressed his lips against hers again this time most softly. His hand goes down to play with the hem of her panties, “you sure about this?” 
“Very sure, don’t mess with a pissed off mama sidney.” she pulls him down with her as she lays down on the table. He kisses down her body, she arches her back and lets him take her bra off. Tossing it onto the floor Sidney wraps his lips around one of her hardened nipples. She lets out a heavenly sounding moan at the action.
It’s been so long she could cum just from Sidney doing this for a couple minutes longer. One hand slips down over her clothed cunt, rubbing her sensitive and wet area. She arches her body into his, already she’s lost in a great euphoric high that she can’t even mumble words. All that’s coming out is moans and gasps. 
He removes his mouth and Sidney stands up, she watches up on her elbows as he takes his pants off and removes his boxers. She bites her lip at the size - the sight - of his hardened dick in his hand. She reaches out for it herself, “you’ll give me what I want, and I promise you won’t regret it.” he thought for a moment too long, she began to doubt herself but he spoke up, “deal.”
She licks her hand before taking a grip on his cock. Slowly she starts stroking up and down, keeping harsh eye contact with sidney. She gives him a nice squeeze and a twist of her hand which makes him throw his head back in pleasure. He can only do so much with his hand, it’s nice to have someone else for a change. Y/N scoots closer to him on the table, with one of his hands he works his hand over one of her breasts softly massaging it. She leans into his touch and continues to work her hands over his hard cock. 
He moves his hand from her breast down and slips it into her soaked panties. At first his fingers were a little cold but they quickly warmed up after being immersed in her sex. He circles around her clit a couple times, getting familiar with the female body again. He explores for a minute or two, his middle finger teasing her hole. The more he teases her the harder her grip gets on his cock. He pulls his hand out of her panties, they’ve never broken eye contact this whole time and he sucks everything off of his hand. God that was hot. 
Sidney removes her hand from his cock fearing if she kept going he would cum all over her hand and that wasn’t what he wanted to do. He’s panting heavy now, his body forming sweat on his forehead. He pushes her down onto the table with a palm on her chest lining his cock up with her entrance, “wait do I need any-”
She chuckles, “that ship sailed a while ago, just fuck me like you mean it coach.” 
With her permission she slides in and she lets out a long, loud, moan as he does it. He wants to hear that on repeat for the rest of his life, he swears. Sidney puts both hands on her hips, keeping her body steady as he rocks in and out of her, his hips meeting her every time. 
Sidney allows to feel himself in her warm, wet walls. He throws his head back in pleasure and she shuts her eyes tight. Her hands come up to her breasts to add to the pleasure, fingers pinching both of her nipples as she feels his huge cock pump in and out of her small hole. He feels like he’s three feet deep inside of her, he feels lost in how good she feels. His head grows foggy each time he squeezes her. 
Sidney hits the spongy spot in her tight cunt that made her gasp out in pleasure, she sang his name like a chant over and over which made him fuck her harder and harder. She warned him about her orgasm and he did the same, begging her to cum with him. A few more pumps of his cock he spilled his heavy load inside of her and she moaned loudly like a queen when he did. He pulled his cock out of her, watching his load spill out with it. 
Maybe it was the post orgasm haze she was in, maybe it was the lovestruck feeling she had the minute they began making out, but minutes later she’s standing between him and the cold shower wall. His forehead pressed against hers. His fingers knuckle deep in her cunt and a hand wrapped around her throat as hot water rained down on either of them, her cunt squeezing his thick fingers while she couldn’t even say anything but his name. That’s exactly what he wanted. 
The hot shower water kept her eyes shut but she knew that he was gazing at her. He was in awe of her facial expressions, how she bit her lip through a smile with every jerk he made with his hand, when she furrowed her eyebrows when she was on the edge of cumming, and how she cocked her head to the side while he kissed around her neck silently asking for more. 
He took his hand away from her pussy, licking the honey off his fingers. He stayed that close to her though knowing her legs were probably jello and she wasn’t able to stand for at least a minute or two. 
She took a deep breath, “got what you wanted?” she asked in a joking tone, moving her hand up and down his chest in the hot steamy shower. He chuckled, his hands never leaving her body. He palmed her breasts, he seemed to have a thing for those she contemplated, heavy lustful eyes staring into hers. 
“How many more you got in you?” he asked, spreading her legs with his thigh.
“I can give you as much as you want.” Y/N answered, her hands slowly roaming down lower and lower on his chest and stomach. 
“Then no, I didn’t get what I want yet.”
-
She woke up in Sidney’s bed the next morning with messy hair and sore muscles. Looking over on the nightstand the clock read 8:02 AM. She was glad that it was a Saturday and she was able to sleep in. She saw that Sidney was still asleep, he laid on his stomach with his head facing the other way. Looking over his back, studying the freckles, the faded scars. Y/N wants to stay in this moment for as long as she can. 
She hates to admit but she really fell for Sidney. Not because of how skilled he was in bed, or because he could do wicked things with his hands, but she shared a few heartfelt conversations with him before tryouts even began. 
He cared for the kids at school, the kids he taught and the kids he coached. He had a heart for the coming generation. He wanted them to have someone in their corner, and some kids don’t have that at home and he wants to be that. She got lovestruck in the past few months, sure she never planned on sleeping with him, she felt young again with how big of a crush she had. It went straight to her head, it all moved so fast. 
God if her mother were still here she could just hear the word “slut!” come out of her mouth if her mom found out what happened. But she wouldn’t care. She enjoyed it, and she was sure Sidney enjoyed it too. 
But still, she can’t help but think to herself what did I just do?
Sidney turns his head and sees that she’s also awake. Raising up he sees the time, 8:10. He doesn’t even care that he missed his morning workout session an hour late. He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer to him, tucking his head in her neck. With dry lips Sidney placed a tender lingering kiss on her hot skin.
It might be worth it for once, she thinks. 
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By Kitty Werthmann
“I am a witness to history.
“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history.
If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching.
“We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls.
She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers.
“Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.”
No so.
Hitler is welcomed to Austria
“In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates.
Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs.
“My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’
“We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living.
“Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back.
“Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler.
“We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed.
“After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service.
“Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been re- quired to give up for marriage.
“Then we lost religious education for kids
“Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education.
“Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.”
And then things got worse.
“The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free.
“We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had.
“My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination.
“I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing.
“Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler.
“It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy.
“In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death.
“Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men.
“Soon after this, the draft was implemented.
“It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys.
“They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines.
“When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat.
“Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service.
“When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers.
“You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government.
“The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had.
“Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna..
“After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything.
“When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full.
“If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries.
“As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families.
“All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing.
“We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables.
“Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands.
“Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control.
“We had consumer protection, too
“We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it.
“In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated.
“So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work.
“I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van.
“I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months.
“They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness.
“As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia.
“Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily.
“No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up.
“Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.”
“This is my eyewitness account.
“It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity.
“America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away.
“After America, there is no place to go.”
Kitty Werthmann
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jungkookstatts · 1 year
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University Superstar
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[Summary]: Jeon Jungkook is your University’s biggest rock-star-athlete-hot guy. It literally prides itself on his attendance at the school — walking around with his “big name” (captain of the lacrosse team), tattoos, and rude, jock-like personality. You hate him. You hate that he can’t apologize for being a complete asshole. But what you don’t hate is how he visits your office every day. You also don’t hate that your feelings for him are crawling back into your system…
[Theme]: Jock!Jk, LacrossePlayer!JK x TeacherIntern!Y/N, Friends(?)ToLovers!AU, EnimeisToLovers!AU
[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, lots of hickies, mentions of blowjob, consistent flirting, JK is an extreme asshole (he actually got on my nerves for some of it lol), insensitive JK, lots of passion, squirting, kissing, pining after one another (mainly JK)
[Word Count]: 10,291
[Author’s Note]: I didn’t plan on making Y/n an education major…? But then I was thinking of JK in a bomber jacket and jock x teacher!AU and…yeah no, it had to happen.
[Masterlist] [Sequel] [Drabble (1), (2), (3)]  
Jeon Jungkook.
The name makes you hurl a little in your mouth. Yesterday’s lunch makes its way to the back of your throat. But you swallow it down, telling yourself to be strong and that he will go away soon.
“So,” he banters a smile at you. That stupid yellow and blue lacrosse bomber jacket puffs out around his shoulders, the number “07” poking out in the ugliest school-sprit font you’ve ever seen on his sleeves. His elbows rest on your desk, arms delicately pushing some of your papers and trinkets out of his way. The action only fuels your anger.
“7 o’clock. You and me. Chipotle.”
“In your dreams, fuckboy,” you scoff. The audacity he has to ask you out. The audacity he has to find the school you intern at (literally on your universities campus, but still), interrupt your work, and ask you on a date for the nth time since a few weeks ago.
You think this might be the 5th time this week he’s asked you out on a date. And it’s only Wednesday.
The amount of explaining you still have to do to your coworkers, and even your kindergartner students, is exhausting. Everyone knows who he is. He’s the captain of your Universities lacrosse team, probably the most popular guy on campus…one of “the hottest” guys in the school (according to your coworker and best friend, Aecha)
You remember asking her a while back why he was always “the talk of the town”, and all she could say was: “Well, look at him. How could he not be?”
You get it. He is hot. But that doesn’t stop you from absolutely hating his guts. Not after he spilled his hot, black coffee all over your white shirt and pants a few weeks ago. Not after he stained all of your precious student’s artwork with his scorching hot Americano.
You were on your way to the school to hang them up in your classroom. Stopping at your University library’s coffee shop, you decided to start your day with a little bit of matcha before you decorated your space.
Your students had just completed a “What I Love About Me” project, and their responses literally made you cry…maybe made you ugly cry. So innocent and honest in their responses, this project was probably the most precious to your heart. You had wished you did something like this back when you were so young. Maybe then you would have a reminder on your bad days what younger you always admired before nasty comments and puberty hit your system.
So, when Jeon Jungkook completely drenched them in his black coffee, your stained (and very expensive) white work shirt and pants didn’t even matter. The sopping-wet look of your student’s artwork made you fight to gulp back tears. But you couldn’t help the water that begged to break free from behind your eyelids.
“Oohh!” he laughs, the stupid jock in him making a scene. “Jeez! I’m sorry.” you can feel the antagonizing smirk on his lips as he looks at what he’s done to you. “Here, let me get a napkin,”
Jungkook exits your line of vision and you try to make your way out of the library before he comes back. But, ever the athlete he is, Jungkook is back before you can blink with a giant wad of the coffee shop’s crappy brown napkins.
You don’t even know who is talking to you until you take the napkins from his hands, recognizing those ugly, stupid, hot hand tattoos. Who couldn’t recognize them when the whole university makes Jungkook’s tattoos each and every one of its personality traits?
The realization of your perpetrator being Jeon Jungkook only makes you more upset. Had it been anyone else, the hurt in your heart from your damaged projects might have been less painful.
You immediately start wiping off your student’s projects, placing them on the nearest table and patting them dry, trying your best not to smear the Crayola marker on some of them.
“Woah, hey,” he chuckles to himself again. “Nice line work. Didchya draw those?”
“Please, stop talking.” you spit at him. Finally, you look up at his face, hoping he gets the point.
You think he does, because the minute he catches your gaze, his face freezes. The look adorning your features was angry, but that tear in your eye from what he did to your papers made you really upset. Which, for some reason, made Jungkook's heart clench. Hoping he can’t see the tears trying to break free from your eyelids, you look back down and continue your previous actions.
“I-I, um,” he stutters, his voice much meeker than what it antagonized you with just moments ago. “Look, is there anything I can do? A free drink? New clothes? A personal invitation to Min Yoongi’s New Year’s Party? An escort around the men’s lacrosse team's locker room? …During uniform change?”
“Thanks, but the best thing you can do is leave,” you reply. Just about done drying your projects up the best you can, you gather them in your arms and face the man once again. This time, you stare at his face for more than just a few seconds. You hate that he’s handsome; it only makes it harder to stop looking at the playful smirk forming on his lips from mentioning the men’s locker rooms.
“You sure? Heard this year’s party is supposed to be a banger.” he bribes, the mole under his bottom lip showing as he smiles.
“Min Yoongi is a close friend. I am invited to his parties every year. Now, I have to go—”
“No way?!” he exclaims, the permed dark curls over his eyes bouncing as he places a large hand on your shoulder. You shrug it off, but he acts like he did nothing wrong at all. “How come I haven’t seen you before? I’d totally recognize you. You’re smokin', by the way.”
Your lips and nose cringe at his statement.
“I don’t usually go,” you explain. “Now, please move before I push you out of my way myself.”
“Hah!” he laughs. “Like you could. Hey, are you an elementary teacher or just a shitty artist?”
“I’m not answering that,” you say.
His comment hurts you. This is precious art to you. The fact that he has no regard—didn’t even say sorry meaningfully—for your papers that you are obviously upset about makes your heart sink. All you can see are the faces of your students.
“Okay, well, that offer for a free drink, or clothes, or uh—oh yeah. The men’s locker room deal,” he winks. “Is still on the table.”
“I’ll pass,” you flash a tight-lipped smile his way before brushing a shoulder past him and exiting the library.
The first tear makes its way down your cheek, and you quickly wipe it off before anyone has the chance to see it. You think Jungkook might have through the window of the shop, but you assume he is looking at his order number he placed for a new coffee on the screen above it. It would appear more fitting. He clearly has no care in the world that he did something that made someone else upset. From his own actions. But are you really surprised that he wouldn’t care?
The rest of your walk to the elementary school is filled with blasting music in your headphones and a scowl on your face. What was once sadness is now anger. You’re angry. So fucking angry. Your blood is boiling.
“How could he?” you exclaim as you barge into the teacher’s lounge.
“Woah—” Aecha observes. “Is this a new print or something?” she asks, referring to your white-brown shirt and pants. “Please don’t tell me this is a new ‘thing’? No offense, but it’s kind of ug—”
“No, it’s that stupid Jungkook-jock-fuckboy-asshole-bitch—”
You silently thank an existing god that the kids have off today.
“Jeon Jungkook?” Aecha’s jaw drops.
“Don’t even start. I hate that man. Look what he did,” you seethe, slapping your student’s projects on the table.
“Awww,” Aecha’s eyes go beady, her fingers delicately shifting through the precious artwork. “Did he ruin them?”
“Yes,” you fight the urge to swipe all the shit on the coffee bar onto the floor. “Yes, he did. And now I have to give these back to the kids, hoping that when they’re 15 years older they can actually make out what it's saying.”
“I’m sorry,” she pouts. “That’s really shitty. Did he apologize?” she asks, sorting through the damp papers. “They don’t look too distraught. I can still read them,” she assures you.
“He apologized as the third phrase he said to me. The first was an ‘Oohh!’ accompanied by a mocking laugh and then a ‘jeez!’ Didn’t even realize I didn’t care about my damn shirt until he pointed out how ‘shitty my artwork was’.”
“Wow,” she gapes. “That’s totally Jungkook, that’s for sure,” she nods in agreement, thinking upwards. “You know, now that I’m imagining the scenario, it’s kinda hot.”
“Aecha!”
“Okay listen,”
“No, I won’t.”
“Okay, fine,” she gives up. You dig underneath the coffee cabinet, pulling out a spare hairdryer and plugging it into the wall. Your school is filled with mostly women teachers, so finding something like this in a coffee room is not that unordinary here. The room is soon loud with the sound of the machine as your try to dry them completely. “You going to Yoongi’s party, by the way?” she asks you.
You remember Jungkook’s offer to invite you to said party. You scoff at the memory. What was once a plan to tell Yoongi that you were, in fact, going to attend...is now a “no” from you. Not when you know Jungkook will be there. He is always there, just too drunk to remember you, probably. He even danced with you a few times, grinding on your ass with a beer in his hand and his other on your waist.
You remember it all too well. That was back when you had positive thoughts about the man. But then he became the captain of the lacrosse team. And then he became obsessed with the amount of “get out of jail free” cards he suddenly obtained from his popularity, hotness, and good standing on the school board. When you heard about what he was like from Aecha, your friends, the school news, YouTube, etc., you stopped finding him fancy. You couldn’t see the same man you saw that night. Especially not with how he treated you just an hour ago. Sad, but you washed away any hint of a crush you might've had on him after then.
“No, not anymore,” you reply, loudly speaking over the blow dryer. It is loud enough to where you don’t need to yell, but you wouldn’t be able to hear her response if you both talked normally.
“What?!” she drops her shoulders in disappointment. “But Hoseok is going to be there…you told me you’d go with me if he was!”
You know Aecha has been chasing after Hoseok since she first talked with him at last year's party. She doesn’t know anyone else who is going besides Yoongi and Hoseok. Being they’re both men, she doesn’t know if she feels 100% comfortable going alone, even though you and her both know they would never dare to hurt her or make her feel unsafe. It is more of a girl code—arriving and leaving together—than it is anything else. So you understand.
You had forgotten about said agreement, and you groan in frustration. Now, you have no other choice.
“Y/n, I need to bag this man. I need to,” her voice is laced with determination. “I am like—I am tired of waiting and this is my one last chance and—”
“Okay!” you hush her. “Fine, I’ll go.
She claps her hands and does a happy dance. You wish you could find her reaction endearing, but now you’re dreading the upcoming events of this party.
----
The week is going by fine until you get unexpected amounts of bouquets and Edible Arrangements all addressed to you from…Jungkook. You send them all back, just to get an angered Jungkook storming into your office a few days later.
“You know how expensive those were?!” he half-shouts at you. He quiets his voice, noticing the quiet setting he is in. However, he doesn’t seem to care that he has intruded on your space during your work time. He closes the door to your office anyways, trapping you in it with him.
“How did you get this address…and how do you know I work here?” you interrogate, going back to typing on your computer. The things you type are a mix of keyboard slam and words you’re thinking, faking work at its finest because some abnormally hot jock-asshole needs to make it known that his gifts are not to be returned.
“Min Yoongi is a man of many talents,” he responds. Taking a seat in one of the chairs across from your desk, you watch him as he plays with your nameplate on your desk. “Ms. Y/n L/n. Cute.”
You snatch the gold engraved tag out of his hands and place it back on the desk where it was before. “Please don’t touch my thi—”
“So, you are a teacher, then, I suppose?” he interrupts you. You don’t know it, but Jungkook is really trying here. It took a lot and nothing at all for him to walk in here. Truthfully, he has no idea how to apologize to you. A simple, sincere, “sorry” would probably do it. But he even practiced it in the mirror. Literally impossible. It’s like his mouth was forbidden to say the word without gagging at himself.
Apologizing was never his strong suit. Before coming to college, he was a good boy. Sweet and kind, never once a popular kid until he hit puberty and was suddenly his high school’s prom king. That’s when he started doing things he is not that proud of. It became a habit, but the good boy in him has a hard time practicing apologizing. Mainly because... he never really had to do it before becoming a total high school popular kid and a university super-star player.
But he really fucked up this time. And, he was hoping you would just let it go like people always seem to do when he can’t admit things correctly. But after seeing that tear fall down your face after you left the shop, that clench in his heart followed as you walked away. He couldn't stop thinking about how bad he felt all week. Those really meant something to you and he knew it. He just didn’t know how to admit he was being an asshole.
“I am,” you reply. “You here for some lessons?”
“Stop,” he grins. “Teacher—student sex has always been a fantasy of mine.”
“Please,” you scoff at him. The audacity. “As if I’d fulfill that for you.”
“A man can only dream,” he shrugs.
“Yeah, well keep doing that. What do you want, Jungkook?”
“I want to know why you sent back my flowers. And my Edible Arrangement! I was fighting the urge not to just eat it when I picked it out for you.”
Truthfully, you were too. You love Edible Arrangements.
“Because I don’t want your sympathy because you realized you were an asshole,”
“Why not?”
“Because none of that matters to me. I’m not an ex-girlfriend who caught you cheating on me. I’m just a stranger you met last week. I want an apology. An honest apology from you. And that’s it.” you explain.
Jungkook puffs his cheeks out.
“You’re difficult,” he raises his eyebrows. “I like that,” he smirks at you.
“I don’t have time for your flirting, Jungkook,” you roll your eyes at him, focusing back on your screen. “Please go home.”
The next time he comes in is around 3pm the following day. The kids are out of school by then, but all your coworkers are still here. So is Jungkook, apparently. Aecha tells you he’s been talking it up with the principal since he got here.
You groan, hoping he is just here to speak with the principal and not you. It is a farfetched hope, though. You don’t know what business he has with the principal, or anyone else here besides you, for that matter.
It is around 5 when he barges into your office again. You’re packing up your things, dreams crushed when you thought you could exit work without running into the alleged lacrosse star.
“Hey, sexy,” he flirts, eyeing your flowy, loose, figure-hiding, ugly, dark-brown art dress. You roll your eyes again, knowing he’s making fun of you. It was art day, and you had to wear your paint-stained art-apron dress. It’s the only one you don’t care about other than the shirt he ruined just a week ago.
You ignore his comment, zipping your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.
“Reconsidering tutoring?” you mock. Jungkook laughs at you, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. You’re really cute when you mock him. It kinda gets him going.
“How’s about 9:00pm next Saturday at Min Yoongi’s?” he asks, trying to get you to go to the party again. Little does he know that you’re going. But you don’t want to amuse him too much.
“Funny,” you banter, making your way to the door. But he blocks your path, his arms resting against the door frame as he stares down at you with those white teeth and bunny eyes. You want to squish his cheek between your forefinger and thumb for reasons you don’t understand. All he has done is make fun of, flirt, and annoy you since you two met. Why do you feel the heat in your cheeks when he slips a finger underneath your chin, dark eyes staring into your soul? Why does your heartbeat in your throat when you look at the glossiness of his lips so close to your own?
You back away, releasing yourself from his flirtatious actions.
“What if I begged on my knees?” he blurts out.
You snort out in laughter at that. The thought of Jungkook: the tall, big guy with tattoos and an award-winning lacrosse scholarship? On his knees in front of you? Begging you to go to some party? That’s rich.
Jungkook blushes harder at your laughs. Fuck, your laugh is so cute. He wants to make you laugh like this a lot. Maybe forever, even. You’re music to his ears.
“What’s so funny?” he chuckles with you. “Think I can’t?”
“Please,” you smile wide, a hand covering your mouth, trying not to muster up any more laughs. “That would be too much. You sure you want to pleasure me?”
Jungkook’s mouth grows dry. Um…yes?? He would, in fact, like to pleasure you. Maybe not in that way, but he’d do it if it meant you were pleased with him. Fuck! If only he could admit things properly.
“Um, no, never mind” he goes against his wish. “I don’t think I could stand the content look on your face.” He totally could??? What the hell is he saying?!?
Jungkook runs a hand through his thick, brown locks, looking at you as you die down your laughter. If only you knew he’s been after you since two New Year’s parties ago. You think he doesn’t remember, but he totally does. The way your hips swayed against his, pressing your ass into his front. He remembers how soft your skin felt underneath his tattooed hand. All he remembered is how he wanted to mark you up, kiss the skin of your lips, neck, and shoulders and claim it as his own. But he had one too many drinks that night, and he found himself passed out on Min Yoongi’s couch the next morning. Jungkook started off the New Year with his clothes on, cheeks flushed, a terrible hangover, and no sight of you anywhere.
He had been trying to find you for a while on campus, but little did he know you were all the way on the opposite side of it in the Education sector. When you didn’t show up to Yoongi’s New Year’s Party the following year, he realized he may never see you again. Until he ruined your clothes. And your valuables. And your heart. And god-knows-what else. If only apologizing didn’t completely break his fragile ego, maybe he would be kissing you right now. Maybe he could have been spending all his time kissing you and holding you every day since the incident.
“Whatever you say, fuckboy,” you smile at him. “Now let me go — and stop coming into my office. It’s annoying.”
“Principle Green is actually so rad, though. I might come back just for him,” he comments, moving out of your way.
“I don’t care who is rad, I don’t want you interrupting my work.”
“Oh, so I’m a distraction?”
“No, you’re a nuisance,”
“Ouch,”
“Goodbye, Jungkook,” you flash him a grin, turning off the lights in your office. You look at Aecha in the teacher's lounge where you exit. She is completely baffled, eyes wide, her mouth dropped, and her bagel falling out of her hands and onto the table. Cream-cheese side down. She heard everything, and you know what she’s thinking.
Luckily, you can leave without either of them making conversation with you.
Entering your car, you let out a huge breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in. You look at yourself in your sun blocker's mirror. Cheeks red and lips cracked from all the laughing, you’re a total mess! As if your crush on Jungkook is coming back. It can’t be. He’s a total asshole now.
But a charming asshole.
Fuck! Stop it, y/n. You can’t do this to yourself.
And so, you don’t. You blast your music and drive away, pretending you don’t see a waving, smiling Jungkook from the school’s entrance in your rearview mirror.
----
Three knocks on your door and an uninvited Jungkook makes his way into your office. Again.
Jeon Jungkook.
The name makes you hurl a little in your mouth. Yesterday’s lunch makes its way to the back of your throat. But you swallow it down, telling yourself to be strong and that he will go away soon.
Last night, after Jungkook’s daily visit to your office (one that ended up with a 3-hour conversation about how Thor is the best Avenger next to Spider-Man), you realized that it’s been almost two weeks since you met him in the coffee shop. Almost two weeks and you have yet to receive a proper apology like you had asked him to give you the first time he visited you at work.
This is the 7th visit since two weeks ago, and still no apology. Despite his charm and how easily you were almost tricked into letting it all go, you remembered you were still supposed to be mad at him. And that you should still be mad at him no matter how many bunny-smiles, flirtatious comments, and talks about the Avengers and Principle Green that shoots straight to your heart. And to other places…
“So,” he banters a smile at you. That stupid yellow and blue lacrosse bomber jacket puffs out around his shoulders, the number “07” poking out in the ugliest school-spirit font you’ve ever seen on his sleeves. His elbows rest on your desk, arms delicately pushing some of your papers and trinkets out of his way. The action only fuels your anger.
“7 o’clock. You and me. Chipotle.”
“In your dreams, fuckboy,” you scoff. The audacity he has to ask you out. The audacity he has to find the school you intern at (literally on your universities campus, but still), interrupt your work, and ask you on a date for the nth time since the start of this week.
You think this might be the 5th time since Sunday he’s asked you out on a date. And it’s only Wednesday.
“Woah, why the ‘tude?” he defends, putting his palms up as he slides back into his “designated” chair in your office.
“There is no ‘tude.”
“There totally is ‘tude!”
You glare at him from over your laptop screen. "See!” he points at your scowl.
“Jungkook, get out please,” you sigh. You really don’t want to deal with his antics today.
“What? Why?” he asks you. His voice is defensive like you just told him his dick is short and thin. Which, it totally is not by the way. He’d tell you about it, but it doesn’t appear like you’re up for that conversation.
“Because, Jungkook, I’m done with this.”
“With what?" he scoffs. "We’re not even a ‘this’,” he says the last part with finger air quotes.
“Exactly, so please stop visiting me. I don’t want your distractions to make me forget about the fact that you still haven’t apologized.”
“Oh, please, y/n,” he drags out a laugh, slouching on your chair. “I don’t even need to apologize. They were just some shitty drawings. I can assure you that if you go back into that classroom and call an ‘art sesh’ they’d make up a bunch of equally as shitty pieces for you.”
You can feel your fingers nearly breaking the screen of your laptop before shutting it close. You stand up in your seat, motioning your finger toward the door. “Get out.”
Jungkook knows he stepped over the line with that one. He really doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying. He knows those meant something to you! Why is he acting like he doesn’t? Why does he choose to say words that hurt you? It only hurts him, knowing that even though he wants so badly to be the person that comforts you and who tells you you’re okay; saying the opposite is only going to make it worse.
Duh!
Right now, he wants to beat himself up so badly that he’s lost the ability to speak another word.
That clenching feeling he has in his chest is back. He can see the anger in your heart, reaching out to protect the innocence of your students. It’s endearing, really. But he’s in the crossfire. And he’s on the side of your wrath he doesn’t want to be on. He’s the reason you’re protecting your students in their absence. He is the reason why you might never forgive him for this one.
“Y/n, I,” he stutters, standing up. He really thinks he’s about to apologize until something within himself blocks him from doing so again. His heart wants to say it, but his egotistical brain isn’t allowing him. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then what did you mean it as?” you ask him. Hands running through your hair, you laugh at yourself in disbelief. “You know, I don’t even know why I’m asking you that. I don’t even know why I expect anything from you at all. All you’ve been doing since you got your damn scholarship and your damn popularity has been treating others like how you are treating me right now. Like their feelings don’t matter, like no one else exists in this world besides Jeon Jungkook. Maybe if you had a project like the one I assigned to my students, then maybe you’d have a reason to look back on what it means to be kind to others. Maybe you’d realize that people get hurt because of people like you. Me included. So please, leave my office and don’t show your face in this school ever again.”
Jungkook is at a loss for words. What can he say? You called his bluff. He taught himself how to block out others as a defense mechanism a long time ago. Its consequence: confidence as a new defense mechanism. Confidence is always good, right? So why it felt wrong when he started showing that side of him 100% more than it was before was beyond him. And, well, this is why it felt so wrong. He's lost the ability to humble himself down. And he hurt you because of it. He’s hurt a lot of people because of it. If only he knew how to balance himself properly.
Jungkook leaves your office, not batting an eye at you, feeling like a student who just got expelled. The jock in him would say it was hot, but that part of him is not there. Nothing but shame fills his body. He feels ashamed of himself. Especially as he catches light of one of the coffee-stained projects on the lounge-room walls.
[I love my _______ because it makes me feel ________] is the prompt. This one had the most outrageous spelling he thinks he’s ever seen. Backward “e”’s and random capitalization and sizing and all. But he makes out “heart’ and “wanted”.
Something in him pulls on his heartstrings again. He can see why those projects meant so much to you. Just that one simple response was enough to feel regret all the way from the follicles of his scalp to his big toe, as if he didn’t regret it already. How is he going to make it up to you? He has no idea. But he can’t lose sight of you, even when he knows he's pissed you off and hurt you. He has to find a way to make it right.
He has to apologize. Sincerely. Like he’s been practicing in the mirror and with his roommates, Taehyung and Jin, for the past two weeks. It’s easier with them. They don’t make his heart beat abnormally fast. They don’t send smiles (other than teasing, antagonizing ones that make him feel embarrassed and give up) that make him want to kiss you until you’re breathless beneath him.
But he needs to. And it needs to happen soon.
----
“So,” you smile at Aecha across your kitchen counter. She’s wearing the skimpiest hot pink dress you have ever seen. No doubt trying to be a tease for Hoseok. No one would guess she’s a preschool teacher with the way she’s dressed. “What’s the plan?”
She turns around, pinning the last bobby pin in her stiff, hair-sprayed-bobby pinned high bun.
“Okay,” she smiles. “We go in, right? Then I see Hoseok. Then we dance. Then we kiss. Then we f—”
“Okay!” you stop her, laughing. “I get it. Go in, dance, fuck. What do I do?”
“Hmmm,” she thinks. “Drink?? Get high? Maybe mock my actions on a certain captain of the lacrosse team…?”
You give her a knowing look.
“I know!” she puts her hands up. “Was just a thought.”
A great thought, at that. You’ve been wanting to jump his bones since three New Year's parties ago. But you’ve long accepted that’s no longer on your agenda. Jungkook has proven to you that he is a lost cause. You can’t expect anything from him, no matter how charming his smile is, no matter how well he dances, or how his touch makes butterflies flow through every vein in your body.
You have to put him in the back of your mind and move on. Maybe tonight you can find someone to do that with.
“You know that guy from Bread Club?” you ask her, fingers pinching the skin between your eyebrows in thought.
“Which one? That club was full of male nerd—oh! The hot one? Park Jimin?” she recalls.
“Yes!” you exclaim. “Him! Do you know if he is coming?”
“Oooooo,” she coos at you. “Does y/n see a potential crush on bread-boy Jimin?”
“Not a crush. Although, he is really handsome.” you blush. “I just never gave him a proper chance.”
“You’re right. I did suspect an underlying mutual attraction. My guess would be that he is going. I’m pretty sure he’s with that whole group. If I’m not mistaken, I want to say he’s Taehyung’s brother. Tae rooms with Jungkook and Jin.”
“Ah,” you nod, understanding the explanation. Although, all you hear is Jungkook. You hate that even his name in a conversation not even about him puts a sad feeling in your heart. You really do pity him. You also really want to forgive him. But after what he said back in your office, you don’t think you have the means to. His words hurt. They always do. But, he doesn’t know how to apologize. At least not to you. You remember how Aecha was surprised when you explained the situation and told her that he still hasn’t apologized since the incident. It made you wonder if you were the only person he refuses to apologize to.
“Okay, I’m ready. We both look hot. Let’s go,” Aecha says, matter-of-fact. She slaps her pocket mirror closed and shoves it into her purse.
----
You arrive at the sickest party Min Yoongi has ever hosted. Jungkook was right, this year’s party is a banger. Endless drinks, endless space for dancing, endless games, and endless men…boy you have many options tonight.
Aecha claps your shoulder in excitement, telling you that she sees her prey. You understand, letting her make her progress towards bagging Hoseok.
You continue smiling until your eyes land on Jungkook’s. He’s at the beer pong table, a beer in one hand and a pong in the other, ready to throw his next shot. Although, his progress towards throwing it stops when he sees you.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to keep looking at him. Dressed in all black with silver accents accompanying his wrists, ears, eyebrows, and lips. One could say he completely complemented your own outfit.
The fact only makes your heart hurt more. Why? You don’t know. You dropped him. He’s done. Wasn’t even a crush for longer than a day three years ago. Why you’re so hung up on him, you don’t know. The realization has you tearing your eyes away from his man-bun that looks too perfect framing his face, and onto the drinks in the room next to you.
You grab a shot or two. Or three. Or four. But who’s counting? It’s New Year’s Eve, you’re single, have nothing to lose, and have strange feelings toward a man you want to forget. Tonight is the night to get so wasted that you end up achieving that goal.
You think you will be successful when a familiar voice calls your name. Turning around, your eyes meet with Park Jimin’s. The bread-boy. Just the man you wanted to see tonight.
“Jimin!” you hug him. “No way! How long has it been since we baked banana nut bread together?!”
Jimin laughs out loud, hugging you back. “About a year, I’d say,” he smiles. His smile is really cute, reaching from cheek to cheek with that insanely addicting voice of liquid he uses to coat his words. “You’re looking really good tonight, Y/n.” Maybe he will be your saving grace tonight, after all.
“Thanks,” you smile. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.”
“Glad to know you’re pleased.”
“I am,” you smirk. “Somewhat.”
“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow.
“Come,” you change the subject. For some reason, flirting with Jimin feels wrong. Even though you want parts of him, even though you want to be able to flirt with him, something about it just doesn’t feel right. Maybe it’s the intense eyes you feel at the back of your head when you dance on Jimin in the middle of the dance floor. Maybe it’s when you kiss Jimin that you feel as if you’re imagining it’s Jungkook who you’re pressing your lips to.
It’s all wrong. Everything is wrong.
But Jimin touches you like it is right, and you feel somewhat assured until an extra hand is pulling you away from him. Suddenly, you’re drunken vision sees Jimin standing on the dance floor moving farther and farther away from you as this mystery person takes you away from him. Stumbling to keep up with this person’s pace, you turn around and attempt to pry off the strong arm that wraps around your wrist.
“Wha-What do you—who are you?” you ask this person. It isn’t until you realize that the person’s arm is tattooed. It isn’t until you realize that these tattoos are familiar and that they belong to Jeon Jungkook. “Jungkook, let go!”
To which he does, but only when he’s pulled you out of the house and into the alleyway between another house and Yoongi’s. Jungkook pins you against the wall, his forearms pressing against the brick next to your ears.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, voice low and eyes foreboding. Those eyes you’ve never seen before. They’re dark and angry; far, far away from his playful innocent-looking ones. They scare you a little. But you’ve always been good at facing your fears.
“I’m having fun,” you respond, not a smidge of the jitters you're feeling consuming your voice. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t make any mistakes,” he responds.
“Hah!” you laugh, the alcohol causing you to tilt your head back harshly. You forget there’s brick there, and you’re thankful Jungkook’s reflexes are fast enough to slide his hand beneath your head before it smacked against the brick. “You’re so funny, Kook. You know, that’s actually a good idea. Because the last time I danced on someone like that was with you. And I really regret that.”
Jungkook’s heart pangs in his chest, showing how your words affected him so by closing in on you. His face towers over yours, even though he’s been trying to keep his height as level with you as he can by bending his body at his hips to match your own height. But the closer he gets, the taller he becomes, and the more you have to look up in order to look into his eyes.
You can smell the cologne on his body along with the faint smell of booze on his breath. You hate how his scent makes you fawn over him. All you want to do is kiss him silly. But you’re still mad at him. You're still arguing with him right now.
“You don’t,” he scowls, more so at himself for letting it get this far. The sight of Jimin holding you like that when it was supposed to be him made his blood boil. Fury grew in his veins as he realized he needed to make this right. Right now. Before it’s too late and you’re truly moving on.
“And what if I do, Jungkook?” you lower your voice, words feeling heavy on your mouth. “What if I regret letting my feelings continuously be hurt by you?”
“And what if I told you that I regret it,” he holds your chin in his fingers. “Saying those things to you. I do, y/n. I regret it, and I don’t know why I kept saying those things. And I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was never my intention to hurt you.”
You pause at his apology. Are you hearing this right? Did Jeon Jungkook just apologize to you? Twice??
“W-Well,” you stutter. Tears start to brim your eyes again for reasons you don’t understand. Maybe because you’re a crybaby. Maybe because this was your reason for not chasing after the man you liked so much. Maybe because his apology gives you the ‘go’ for smashing your lips onto his, feeling his honey lips collide with yours.
They’re just as soft as you imagined they would be. And god, is he a good kisser. His lips alone make a pool in your panties. Your hands slide around his neck, fingertips intertwining in his tied-up locks.
Jungkook’s body nearly stutters when you kiss him. Out of all things, this was the last he expected. Maybe a well-deserved slap or a kick on the shin, but never the feeling of your embrace.
Nevertheless, he doesn’t complain one bit. He’s been dying to feel you. Your lips on his was an imagery he thought he would never have the chance to live out. But, here you are, holding his body close and kissing him like he is the last person you will ever have the chance to kiss in your life.
Desperation crawls into his veins, lifting you up around his waist, and pressing you against the wall.
He’s been craving this for far too long. Craving you for too long. Jungkook can’t stop touching you, your body is just as soft as he remembered. His curiosity begs him to explore more and more of you. But he’s done enough without your permission. So he waits, continuing to kiss you until you take control.
“I’ve been dying to have you like this,” you say between trailing kisses down to his neck. Jungkook moans as you find his sweet spot, and you think it was the prettiest thing you have ever heard in your lifetime. Sucking on the spot, he raises his chest, trying to control his pleasure but nonetheless fails when you bite down on him.
“Y-Y/n,” he calls out your name, just loud enough for you to hear. His breath tickles your name on the shell of your ear, and you think you might have gushed arousal out of your cunt. “Not here,” he pants, trapping your chin between his fingers again. He motions your jaw up to his, tempting himself with light scrapes of his lips touching yours. “I don’t want anyone else to see you.”
“Then where?” you whisper back at him. It is so hard not to smash your lips onto his again, but you want this to continue. And if Jungkook wants you where no one but himself can see you, then you’re bound to be wherever that is.
“My place,” he brushes his nose against your cheek before returning your trail of kisses on his neck back to yours. “No one’s home. I brought a car.” He sucks your neck, leaving bruises all over. He's determined to find not just one sweet spot of yours, but to find them all.
“Wh-Why not the car?” you ask between moans. Jungkook is so good at this. He’s suede and smooth with his touches, hot and passionate with his kisses. He knows how to make you puddy in his hands.
Jungkook chuckles in your ear. “Not with the things I want to do to you,” he bites down on your neck, eliciting a sweet panted moan from your throat. “That won’t work.”
“Then let’s go,” you hold his neck firmly in your palms, stopping him from his parade of kisses. “I don’t want to waste more time.”
“Someone’s eager,” Jungkook smirks, kissing you once before setting you down and taking his keys out of his pocket.
“You have no idea.”
----
The ride over to Jungkook’s is spent palming him in the driver’s seat and Jungkook struggling to focus on the road. He’s not as consumed with alcohol as you might be, even though the effects of it on you stopped midway through making out with Jungkook back at Yoongi’s.
You know you’re doomed when the car abruptly stops. His fist pushes the stick into park, and he rips open the car door, walking around the front of it to come over to you.
You’re still tipsy, however. So, when you’re met with Jungkook’s erection right in your face you can’t help but laugh a little.
“What’s so funny?” he asks you, a little pissed off at your laughter. It’s hot.
Trailing a finger on the zipper to his black jeans, you outline the length of his cock slowly, admiring its size right in front of you. You dream of it fucking you, as if the man in front of you wasn’t on a mission to check that off your list right now.
“You’re so big,” you sigh like a teenage girl. “I want you inside of me, Jungkook,” you smirk, looking up at him from the passenger seat. Jungkook swears his heart leaps out of his chest. He thinks his voice might crack if he says another word, so he clears his throat, dick twitching simultaneously, before he responds.
“Then, c’mon,” he takes your hand, pulling you up and out of the car. “We’re here.” Jungkook smiles at you sweetly. He almost thinks that he should just wait until the morning to fuck you because of your tipsy-drunk moment until you’re kissing and palming him again. Jungkook moans into your mouth, stumbling with you toward his townhome’s entrance. Key fob in hand, Jungkook presses it underneath the door nob, hearing a sound of approval from the security system not long after.
“Teasing me in the car,” he growls against your ear, pushing you against the nearest wall once the door to his home shuts. “You think you weren’t going to get punished for that?”
All you can do is moan. Jungkook’s hands waste no time ripping off every piece of clothing you have on, dying to see you in all your glory.
“Holy fuck,” he pants. It’s almost as if he’s cumming his pants right now at the sight of you. “You’re gorgeous, Y/n,”
You can’t help but blush a little, his glare on you makes you think that he’s not actually saying these things about your body. Not this man. Not the ripped, 6-packed athlete with incredible strength and muscles that could pop you with one headlock around the neck. Maybe it's the booze.
“Take your clothes off, fuckboy,” you demand.
Jungkook shimmies off his black blazer, eyes still on your tits. He wants to suck them and leave marks all over the softness of them. He wants you to be completely covered in him tomorrow morning.
“Don’t call me that,” he walks closer to you, trapping your naked body between his half-clothed one. “I’m not a fuckboy.” he replies, taking off his mock-turtle neck tanktop. You thought it was tight enough on him before, but the sight of his muscles underneath the shirt makes you realize that the shirt did not do him enough justice. Never in a million years did you think Jungkook was this ripped. He basically has boobs. He could probably fit into your bra…
“Then what are you?” you ghost against his lips.
He would like to say “yours”, but he remembers that you’re still tipsy. Would you agree to that? Do you still hate him? He'd like to think 'no' considering how you two are both eager to have each other right now, but he's got a lot of things to ask and make up to you before any titles are made. So he holds off.
“We can decide that in the morning,” he settles on, flashing you a small smile before delving into your lips. His chest is firm against yours, his back so wide, you struggle to wrap your arms around it as he leads you to what you assume is his bedroom.
His room is just as you expected it would be. Covered in trophies and pictures, as neat and organized as you expected. But what really catches you off guard is how comfortable his bed is. The smell of him engulfs you as he gently places you on his bed. You think about how this night would be if you decided to fuck in the car. How you wouldn't be able to see this view on top of you so clearly if you did. You’re thankful Jungkook insisted on his bedroom. Now, you can see his handsome face clearly in the lighting of his room as he pulls his pants down to his ankles, leaving himself in a pair of white Calvins. They do nothing to hide the length and girth of his cock, and you shutter knowing that he’s going to completely rip you open.
“Don’t worry, I’ll prep you,” he whispers in your ear, sensing your worry. Jungkook’s lips find your neck again, gently kissing his previously left bruises before leaving more of them on the areas of your clavicle and chest.
“What if I don’t want to be prepped?” you whimper, back arching into his chest when his mouth engulfs your nipple, sucking on it hard. “W-What if I want you ri-right now?”
Jungkook laughs deeply as he twirls your nipple around with his tongue. He releases you with a quick “pop”, which makes your head fall back in pleasure. You can feel Jungkook’s body moving up to come face-to-face with yours. “Patience,” he gives you a quick kiss. “I refuse to hurt you any more than I have already.”
“Jungkook,” you coo, holding his jaw in your palm. He looks ashamed of himself. You’ve never seen this side of him, and it feels good knowing that he does harbor those kinds of feelings. Especially since he is comfortable with you seeing him display them. “I forgive you, Kook.”
“You shouldn’t,” he buries his face in your neck again, kissing you lightly as his hand trails down to your wet cunt. His fingers find your clit. You moan when he starts circling slow infinities on the sensitive bud.
“But I do, Jungkook,” you pant, hand coming up to drag your fingers through his hair. You pull out his bun, watching as his hair falls over the crown of his head and onto your skin. It smells like coconut, and you can’t help but bury your nose in it as he continues to gather your juices on his fingertips.
“I was bad to you,” he grumbles against your neck. This time, his fingers circle your entrance. Legs wrapping around his hips, you invite his fingers inside, to which he obliges. Just his index finger feels you first. Jungkook ruts against the mattress at the feeling, imagining the walls that squeeze his finger tight around his cock. Yeah, you definitely need prepping.
“But, you apologized,” you whisper to him, massaging his scalp. Your hips twitch when he adds another finger. You can’t imagine the size of him in you like this. Two of his massive fingers are enough to make you feel close to cumming around them. He’s going to be the death of you.
Pumping in and out of you, Jungkook moves his head to face yours, his nose kissing your own.
“I’m sorry,” he says once again. “I’m sorry for spilling coffee on you, and being an asshole, and making fun of your student’s art, and showing up at your work, and pissing you off, and making you hate me so much you—”
“J-Jungkook,” you stop him. It’s hard to concentrate on a response when his pace quickens with every mention of something he did wrong, as if he was getting angrier the more he realized how much he did to hurt you.
“All I wanted to do was the opposite of what I did,” he kisses your cheek. “B-But it’s hard for me to face negativity without being cocky and stupid about it. I thought that by making it worse, I could make it better.”
“What a strange tactic,” you chuckle against his cheek. Your heart thumps when he flashes you a smile, telling you with his eyes that he’d never do something like that to you ever again. “I’m proud of you.” You smile.
“S-Stop,” Jungkook adds his thumb to your clit as his fingers continue to fuck you slowly. The addition causes you to arch your back into him. Jungkook takes the opportunity to wrap his arm underneath your spine, holding you secure against his body. “You’re going to make me want to claim you if you say that kind of shit to me.”
“What if I want you to claim me?” you challenge.
Jungkook nearly growls into your neck, fighting the urge to just flip you over and ravage you. “Stop doing that to me, y/n,”
He feels your fingers start to tug at the rim of his boxers, and Jungkook can’t be any more excited to feel you around him. He presses one more finger into you before allowing you to shove his boxers halfway down his thighs.
Jungkook moans at the feeling of your soft fingers around his cock, head falling into the crevice of your neck again. His dick is red and angry and begging to fuck you hard and deep. You swirl the precum that leaks from him and circle it around his cockhead, eliciting a strained moan into the skin by your ear from the man above you. His hips jerk at the sudden movement, preparing themselves to fuck you hard and fast.
“I think I’m ready, Kook,” you whisper into his hair.
Jungkook detaches himself from your neck, standing up to quickly knock off his boxers onto the floor. He takes your calves in his hands, spreading you before his fingertips spread your pussy open slowly. Jungkook takes a long look at you. You're basically drooling from your cunt, the slick creating shiny lines off his fingers as he moves them up and off your pussy. Glistening and pulsing for him to fill you up, he knows you’re going to be a tight fit. The fact only excites him further.
He pulls himself onto the bed, pushing your thighs up with his body. Pumping his cock a few times, he lines you up with his dick, pressing his cockhead against your slick.
“You sure you want this?” he leans down to your face. Your thighs are trapped against your torso, Jungkook folding you up for him nice and good. You appreciate that he doesn’t do a thing without your consent, that he doesn’t dare to do anything unless you’re comfortable. A complete 180 from the emotionally constipated Jungkook you’ve been experiencing for the past two weeks.
You nod to him, looking into his eyes. But this doesn’t satisfy him.
“I need a verbal answer, y/n,” he kisses your cheek, dick rubbing up and down your warm entrance.
“Yes, Jungkook. I want you,” you lean into his cheek.
The feeling of his girth stretching you open is enough for you to dig your nails into the smooth skin of his back. Never in a million years did you think you’d be stretched this good.
He doesn’t go in all the way, letting you adjust to his girth before slipping his length all the way into you.
You swear his tip kisses your cervix. When he pulls out and slams back into you, you can confirm that he did, in fact, kiss it. Jungkook moans against you, gripping your hands in his own and pinning them above your head. His hips are strong, slamming into you with everything he has left in him. You’re a goddess below him, legs around his shoulders, fingers digging into the upper side of his palm, tears streaming down your cheeks as you feel all he is giving you.
“F-Faster,” you beg. Jungkook is happy to obey.
He takes your hips and flips you over, his hands pressing against the upper of your back, pushing your chest down into his sheets. Once satisfied, Jungkook firmly grabs your hips and pistons into you faster, just like you wanted. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, fingers gripping the sheets, legs twitching in resistance as he fucks into you like a madman. His nose is crunched, lip bleeding between his teeth as he tries to hold back his orgasm. Usually, he never feels ready to release this early. But, you’re the girl he’s always wanted. And now you’re in his bed, begging him to fuck you without prepping you and go faster and claim you, and—god, it's all too perfect. You’re too perfect.
Your moans are like honey in his ears, the sweetest music he’s ever heard. He slaps your ass hard—once, twice, so many times. You scream to it all, each one pushing you over the edge.
“This is mine, you hear?” he growls from behind you, gripping your ass in his hand before slapping it again. “You hear me?” he asks again, gripping your hips tighter and forcibly slapping them against his own hips. The impact makes you gush around him, your high following his forcefulness in squirts of your release. You don’t see it, but Jungkook’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sight. No way did you just squirt all over his cock. Can this night get any better?
Maybe it can, because he feels his own release closely following. But he edges himself, pulling out of you to look at the mess you made instead of chasing his high.
You’re so embarrassed, digging your face into your hands as you hear him press his hand into his sopping wet duvet cover.
“I-I’m so sorry,” you whimper. You refuse to meet his eyes, even when he flips you over and sits next to your face.
“C’mere,” he pats his lap.
“Jungkook,” you whine, absolutely mortified. Is he mad? You can’t tell. He hasn’t mentioned anything about your release.
“Baby, come here,” he speaks to you with honey laced in his voice. Your heart thumps at the fact that he called you “baby”. Were your dreams coming true?
You gather yourself and weakly climb onto his lap, immediately digging your face into his shoulder.
“Was that bad? You didn’t cum,” you ask him, voice trembling into his neck. God, this is so mortifying. “I won’t do it again, I pro—”
“Like fucking hell you won’t,” he holds your waist firmly again. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen y/n,” he bites your ear. “It’s taking everything in me not to be gentle with you right now.”
Your eyes meet his hungered ones. You were wrong, and you know it not only from him saying so but also from his pulsating cock below. It is twitching and leaking with so much precum, you almost think that it is his cum itself if it weren’t for the clearness of it. And then you realize that he’s edging himself.
“I-I want this to last longer, but I don’t want to hurt you cause I—” his head falls back in a strained moan when you press a finger to his tip, playing with the precum leaking down himself. “Cause I know I will if you don’t take control of me right now…so, ride me,” he demands.
You kiss his neck, feeling lighter that you made him feel strong enough to nearly lose his control just from your orgasm. With power in your hands, you lift your hips just enough to hover your pussy over his twitching cock, sliding down slowly.
Jungkook’s hands come to your hips again, completely out of breath. “H-Holy shit, y/n,” he gasps when he stares down at his dick disappearing and reappearing as you bounce on his cock. “God, you’re going to murder me, aren’t you?”
You laugh at his comment. Although, he’s far from laughing, focusing all his energy on controlling his orgasm. Face falling into your neck, he’s mumbling things you don’t understand as you massage his sweaty scalp again. He moans at your touch, feeling overly sensitive and extremely, beyond-belief, horny. He wants to cum so bad, but he also wants this to last.
“You can cum, Kook,” you whisper into his scalp. You don’t know if you have it in you to cum again. Squirting is so powerful, and it usually takes everything out of you. But you might, considering you have the strength to ride him to no tomorrow. “It’s okay.”
“N-No,” he breathes against your neck, panting. “Can’t. Want it to last.”
“Don’t worry,” you laugh against his cheek. “I don’t plan on making you a one-night, Jungkook.”
“A-Ah,” his hips twitch into you. “I-um, ffuccck, y/n!” he sways your hips back and forth on his cock rapidly. “Y-You sure? It’s going to be a lot.”
“Mhm,” you smile down at him.
“Fuck, o-okay,” he breathes out shakily. Jungkook then bucks his hips fast into yours from underneath you, unrelenting and ruthless. You feel his hot ropes fill you up just seconds later. For what feels like a full minute of him pumping his cum into you, his face resting against your breasts in fucked-out glory.
You two rest there, letting his cum pool at the connection of your bodies while you rest against each other. What finally breaks you out of your own daze is the sound of fireworks just outside Jungkook's bedroom window.
You can see the array of colors lighting up the sky, his digital clock on his nightstand reading 12:00am.
“Hey,” you whisper into his hair, kissing his sweaty scalp. “Happy New Year.”
Jungkook detaches his cheek from your chest, bringing his face up to graze his nose against yours. Smiling into your lips he whispers,
“I’m gonna make it right, y/n. This will be our year.”
---
[Bonus]
[Aecha]: Hope you got home okay.
[Aecha]: Ended up a little stuck between Hoseok’s thighs.
[Y/n]: Funny story.
[Y/n]: I never made it home last night.
[Aecha]: WHAT?!
[Aecha]: Are you okay??
[Y/n]: More than okay.
y/n sent an image
[Aecha]: No
[Aecha]: Fucking
[Aecha]: Way
[Aecha]: I—AKJDAKSJHFJKASFKLDJSAFKLJSFA!!! Y/N!!!!
[Y/n]: So like.
[Y/n]: I’m no longer a single lady?
[Aecha]: AHHHHHHHHH Y/N!!!!!
[Aecha]: JESUS DID HE LEAVE ANY INCH OF YOUR SKIN Y/S/C?!?
[Y/n]: We had a lot of…catching up to do lol.
[Aecha]: I’d say.
[Aecha]: I’m the maid of honor. Understand me?
[Y/n]: Lol. You got it.
~~
[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]
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newrisingsuns · 4 months
Text
celebrating palestinian science
in the face of israels' targetting of scholars, scientists and intellectuals...
saw a tumblr post by @/anarchistfrogposting that got me heavythinking about the relevance of language and culture in chemistry and science, it's unfortunate english has been accepted as its' lingua franca and most other input is lost to the globalization of this change. formulae and structure are essential and in a subject so specific, the average chemist will need to memorize hundreds of chemistry-specific words, and it becomes a barrier past entry when direct translating gets murky. deconstructing the history of science will always lead to political waters as the politicization of science and populist anti-intellectualism ethos rooted itself since the beginning of the study and these implicit biases result in a lack of consensus amongst borders.
before wwi the geographical spread of language in science was much more diverse, a lot of french and german researchers were common in research publishing, but after the allies established new scientific institutions that excluded germans and the isolationist decades that followed suit, foreign-language education was reductionist and excised globally as a result of elitism, being a language considered spoken only 'by the educated'. english-language proficiency is undeniably a prerequisite when an inexaggerated count of 99% of natural science papers are published in english, starting since 2015. this is a /heavily/ debated and discoursed topic and is terribly intimidating to sink your teeth into because of globalization of english and the complexity of modern language but getting over this hurdle will blossom a culturally rich rabbit hole to go down and it is all super interesting. there is so much great palestinian scientific practices, not as in western scientists work imagined in palestinian hands, but palestinian-born theories and practices. i think it's really integral, to always, but especially during times like these to uplift the people of palestine and their beauty just as much as funnel hatred toward their oppressors and murderers.
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[image ID: a lineup of various glass pots and vases, ranging in color and size, placed in front of a plain background. end]
this is a specific sort of glass called 'hebron glass' which is an extremely renowned palestinian practice and passed down traditionally through multiple families and businesses. dating back as far as the 100~s in BCE, their technique of glassblowing was far ahead of their time and not used commonly anywhere else until much further in BCE. the /exact/ practice of hebron glass is kept a family secret amongst palestinian businesses, but a metal tool called 'kammasha' is used to blow the glass. a palestinian artisan talks about the process in more length here, i would recommend doing extended reading directly from palestine:
the colors are so vibrant and beautiful, i am endlessly impressed by how elegant these pieces have been made since the middle ages. these pieces and techniques have inspired a lot of famous modern day forms of glassblowing and glass artistry, most notably the venetian glass of venice.
i include this under science as much as it is art because it often goes unseen how much temperature and calculation goes into this craft. its highly skilled and intense work to bend over the hot flames and handle the glass in such a vulnerable state that could easily shatter. the material is more than 1800F and the palestinian kammasha is very carefully timed.
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[image ID: an online video call meeting titled 'School on Synchrotron Light Sources and their Applications' at the top. end]
what you're looking at right now is the SESAME initiative run by the international centre for theoretical physics. a famous alumnus of this school was sufyan tayeh, a palestinian scientist. he was a prominent researcher and mentor and advocate for international understanding through science, introducing: SESAME, an alternative vision for the future of peaceful coexistence and cooperation and offered a meeting point around the globe to speak the common language of science, making communication possible. sufyan tayeh was an inspiration and bridge builder for all of these young students and an entry point for future scientists. he was a winner of multiple awards for his contributions to science and was appointed chair man for UNESCO (united nations educational, scientific and cultural organization) and head of physical, astrophysical and space sciences in palestine. he was regarded as a leading researched in science and applied mathematics globally, and tragically was killed in the current genocide. this is one case of many, many palestinian researchers. the impact of their contributions are insurmountable and irreplaceable.
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[image ID: a list documenting the 45 palestinian scholars killed by israel since october 7th: Sufian Tayeh, Mohammad Eid Shubair, Omar Ferwana, Taysir Ibrahim, Ibrahim Hamed, Naeim Baroud, Azou Afana, Mohammad Bakhit, Mahmoud Abu Daf, Salem Abu Mukhda, Mohammad Abu Asaad, Osama Al-Muzayni, Refaat Al-Areer, Wael Al-Zard, Ismail Abu Saada, Khaled Al-Ramlawi, Mohammad Al-Najjar, Saeed Al-Dahshan, Raed Qudura, Mohammad Abu Zour, Yousseff Jameh Salameh, Nidaa Afana, Moumen Shweidah, Saeed Al-Zabdeh, Saqid Nasaar, Ahmed Abu Saada, Mohammad Jameel Al-Zaaneen, Ismail Al-Ghamari, Razq Ali Arouq, Walid Al-Amoudi, Abdullah Al-Amoudi, Hassan Al-Radi, Mohammand Abu Amara, Mohammad Al-Louh, Khaled Al-Najjar, Sharif Al-Asli, Mohammad Hassouneh, Yassar Hdeib Ridwan, Jihad Al-Baz, Hazem Al-Jamali, Nasser Al-Yafaoui, and Jihad Al-Masri. end]
==
the fabric gauze was also invented in palestine. if you've ever stepped foot in a labratory, you will know what this is lol. used in surgery and in chemical labs for multiple functions: separating liquids and gases, strain acids from bases, filter substances at extreme temperatures, prevent contamination, and to treat water. it is also used to diffuse heat and help protect glassware, seriously, these guys influence in glassware was HUGE. i think glass would still be sand without palestinian input.
i've set this post just up as a basis summary of the sciences, i would love to give an add-on going more indepth into the scientific process of some examples i gave and also in the history of palestinian scholars listed above.. when i get the time! but i hope this was an apt introduction! may good things come in 2024. feel free to recommend things i should check out or correct. OH OH also there is a lot of palestinian sci-fi.. 'divine intervention' and 'the second war of the dog' are both good, iirc they won the international prize for arabic fiction. just random things i found while looking up things for this post haha but they're good
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roosterforme · 9 months
Text
Adult Education Part 1 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Jake ends up sitting in on a college physics lecture purely by accident. He's rewarded with a cute smile and a cheap beer when he defends the professor. But since when is he like Bradshaw, getting turned on by math and college classrooms?
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing
Length: 3600 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! It was also written for a request and Rocktober! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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"Hey, Bradshaw."
Bradley spun to face Jake in the parking lot, throwing a questioning glance his way. "Hangman?"
"I need a favor." 
Jake wanted to laugh at the annoyed look on the other aviator's face, but he really did need Rooster to help him out. 
"What favor?" Bradley asked, making a production of checking his watch for the time. It was 5:32. Jake could have told him that without checking his own watch. But once again, being at Bradshaw's mercy had him biting his tongue.
"I need a ride home," Jake informed him, nodding to where that vintage Bronco was parked. "My truck is in the shop."
"Why are you just telling me about this now?"
Jake sighed. "Because I live to annoy you. Can you drop me off at my place or not? It's like a mile from your house."
"I'm not heading straight home," Bradley informed him. "My wife is giving a back to school mini lecture at the college."
"Doesn't she teach calculus?" Jake asked, starting to sweat through his khaki uniform while the two men stood in the hot blacktop. "Why are you going to a college calculus lecture?"
Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, clearly annoyed that he was being held up. "Because my wife is hot, and I want to get laid tonight."
"That's fair," he replied. Bradshaw somehow ended up marrying a dime. And Jake supposed he'd willingly attend some stuffy math lecture as well, if the woman giving it was hot enough.
"Listen, I'm leaving," Bradley said, already backing away. "If you want a ride from me, you'll have to swing by San Diego State for an hour or two first. I can drop you off after the lecture."
Jake looked around, deciding this was going to be his best option. "Yeah, alright. Thanks, Bradshaw."
"Just don't embarrass me," Bradley replied, climbing in the driver's side door. Jake climbed in the Bronco as well and rolled his eyes. Really, in what world would he be the embarrassing one here? 
"I'm cool," Jake insisted as they pulled out of the parking spot. 
"And please, don't call my wife Dr. Tits."
"Okay, that was one time," Jake said, trying to defend himself. "At the holiday party. And I was very drunk."
"Yeah, well she thinks you're annoying."
"Hmm," Jake hummed, looking out the window. "I'll behave."
They rode the rest of the way in a silence that thankfully wasn't as awkward as it could have been. And when they went walking through the campus side by side, Jake chuckled at all of the college aged girls turning to get a look at them.
"Yeah," Bradley grunted. "It happens every time."
"Hey, some of these girls are cute."
"You're thirty."
"I don't see a problem." 
Jake held open the door to the mathematics and science building for Bradley to walk inside, and they were met with clusters of students and professors talking in the long corridor. He followed Bradley into one of the lecture halls on the first floor, and a pang of jealousy shot through him when Bradshaw's wife made a beeline their way with a smile on her face.
"Hey, Sugar," Bradley crooned, and she kissed him so sweetly, Jake had to look away. 
"Beer Boy! I can't believe you came."
"Wouldn't miss it."
"Oh, hi Jake," she said, waving to him from where she was tucked under her husband's chin.
"Hi," he replied, feeling kind of bad about calling her Dr. Tits a few weeks ago. "Rooster kindly offered to drive me home after your lecture, since my truck is currently in for repairs."
"You're sweet," she told Bradley before leaning up to kiss him again. But now he had one hand sliding down along her ass, and Jake waved as he walked away.
"Text me when you're done," he muttered, despising the feeling of being the third wheel. It happened more and more as his friends and coworkers started to pair off in serious relationships. He didn't mind being single; it gave him more opportunity to save money for a Cessna, and he didn't have to stop picking up girls from the bar. But he didn't like it when he was expected to stand there and watch everyone else sucking face and saying I love you. "Disgusting."
When he wandered back out into the main hallway, he noticed that it was 6:00 and everyone seemed to be heading into the different lecture halls. So he chose a door at random and ducked inside behind a kid holding a skateboard. If he'd had more time to consider his options, he might have looked for something different to listen to for an hour, but it just so happened he walked in as a physics lecture was starting up. 
There was a woman with her back to the room writing her name on the white board. Dr. Jessica Reed. When she turned around, adjusted her glasses and smiled, Jake tripped over a chair leg and sat down a little hard in one of the empty seats. She was beautiful. And now she was looking right at him since he'd made the chair screech a few inches across the floor. 
"Sorry," he whispered, wincing in apology. But she just shrugged a little bit and got started. 
"Welcome back for the spring semester. I'm Dr. Reed, and this is my second year teaching at San Diego State after earning my PhD in physics from Texas A&M." She paused and gestured to five men sitting in the front row. "Tonight some of my colleagues and I will be talking about propulsion and thrust in relation to aviation and aeronautics."
Now Jake was sitting on the edge of his seat. She went to college in Texas? She knew about aviation? She looked hot in her glasses, skirt and high heels? He was fascinated. She gave a short lecture, pausing to write some formulas on the board in her tidy handwriting, and he was pleased to note that he remembered some of this from his classes at the Naval Academy. He actually remembered a lot of this.
Now she was writing a problem on the board while she said, "Thrust provides the forward motion needed to sustain lift and counteract drag. It is also used to accelerate, gain altitude, and sometimes to maneuver. Propulsion is the act of moving or pushing an object forward. So if an aviator needs to prevent altitude loss because of drag, they would need to know how this formula works."
Jake sat with a smug smile on his face. He did this every day at work. And he already solved her handwritten problem in his head, because he took and aced four semesters of physics himself.
"Can anyone solve for the required thrust?" she asked, adjusting her glasses a little nervously when nobody immediately raised their hand. 
Jake glanced from side to side. The college kids either looked lost or too shy to answer, so he slipped his hand into the air. 
"Yes?" she asked, calling on him. "Go ahead."
"2900 meters per second," he answered smoothly, and her face lit up. 
"Perfect," she replied, turning back to the board to finish solving for everyone to see. She gave a few closing notes and some information about her class schedule, and when she was finished, she grabbed her notebook from the podium. Jake and a few others in attendance clapped for her as she made her way to the empty seat right in front of him. She smiled at him softly before she sat down. 
And then Jake had to endure a very loud, very cranky old man named Dr. Benson Leeland give a similar lecture. But his voice was not conducive to learning, and his handwriting was atrocious. He complained in a passive aggressive tone that Dr. Reed hadn't erased the board for him, and Jake watched her squirm a little awkwardly in the seat in front of him. That was pretty rude of Dr. Leeland. 
But now Jake was noticing the way the other physics professors were hanging on every word that this guy was saying. A few even asked for more information. But as Jake studied the sloppy equation he was scribbling on the board, he realized the answer was wrong. 
"He doesn't even have the right information," Jake mumbled, squinting at the board. 
"No," Jessica Reed whispered, "he really doesn't."
"Is he new here or something?" Jake muttered.
She laughed softly and looked at him over her shoulder. She looked so cute, and her eyes were sparkling with wit and intelligence. "He's had tenure since 1995."
"Jesus," Jake groaned, looking back to the board just in time to see Dr. Leeland cap the dry erase marker. 
"Any questions about the problem?" he barked, and once again everyone else in the room looked half asleep. Well, other than the panel of professors in the front who were hanging on his every word.
But Jake raised his hand and said, "Yes. Several."
"Fine," Dr. Leeland growled. "What would you like to know?"
Jake scoffed and stood up as he gestured to the white board. "I'd like to know why your answer is wrong."
The room went silent as Dr. Leeland turned and looked at the board. A few seconds later, he said, "It looks correct to me," but he sounded far less confident now.
"Well it's not. It's off by a thousand. And you need thrust not propulsion to rapidly gain altitude during takeoff," Jake said, and he noticed that Jessica appeared to be holding in her laughter in front of him. "So not only is your math wrong, your equation just doesn't even make any sense."
"I'm sorry, but are you a student here? Did you graduate from this program?" Leeland asked Jake.
"No," he replied with his hands on his hips. "I'm an aviator. And I attended the Naval Academy where the professors taught physics correctly like Dr. Reed."
He could have heard a pin drop, and Jessica was looking back at him from her seat with her lips parted and her eyes wide. Then a smile crept onto her face, and Jake decided that it was so stunning, he'd like to keep it there. 
Just as Dr. Leeland started to shuffle around the front of the lecture hall, and another equally geriatric professor took his place at the podium, Jessica stood, clutching her red notebook to her chest. She still looked kind of surprised by him, but pleased nonetheless. And when she was standing this close to him, Jake was having a hard time remembering why he was annoyed a few seconds ago. 
When she nodded to the doors at the back of the room and headed toward them, Jake tripped along after her. She slipped silently out into the hallway and he followed her lead. It was cool and quiet out here, and she laughed softly as soon as the door closed softly behind him. 
"Sorry, but there's no way I could listen to another lecture after Leeland put his foot in his mouth like that," she told him softly with a smile. "And it seemed like you were probably done, too?"
"That's right. I'm pretty sure I already got to hear the best physics professor give her lecture," Jake said as smoothly as he could. "No sense in staying for whatever the hell that was." He jerked his chin toward the door, and she looked delighted. "He didn't even know what he was talking about."
"Yeah," she agreed, adjusting her glasses and nodding vigorously. "He's been tenured. Since 1995. Welcome to my world."
Jake chuckled, and when he held out his hand, she juggled her notebook and shook it. "I'm Jake Seresin." Her hand was small and sure, and he had to fight the urge to pull her closer.
"Jessica Reed," she replied, pulling her hand from his all too soon. 
"I really liked your mini lecture, Dr. Reed," he said, tucking his hands into his pockets. 
She laughed and looked at the floor for a beat. "You can call me Jessica." She glanced toward the elevators like maybe she was going to leave, but then she turned back to him and asked, "You feel like grabbing a drink? There's a hellaciously shitty dive bar across the street."
He grinned. "Do they have cheap beer?"
"Oh, yeah. And they give you peanuts and let you throw the shells wherever you want to with reckless abandon," she said before biting her lip. Was she nervous to ask him? She shouldn't be. Jake would have followed her out into oncoming traffic if she said that's what she wanted to do.
"Let's go," he replied, earning himself another smile. 
"It's my treat," she said, pushing open the doors and heading out onto the sidewalk with him. "Honestly, a three dollar beer and some stale peanuts is the least you deserve for standing up for me in there."
As they walked side by side toward the corner and the crosswalk, he asked, "So you're the only competent one in your department, Jessica?" Oh, he really liked saying her name. He wondered if she would respond with one of those pretty smiles if he whispered her name in her ear.
"Yes," she replied with conviction as she crossed the street toward the bar called Chippy's. "And I'm also the youngest one, the only female, and the only one without tenure." She pushed open the door, and Jake immediately noticed the crowd of college students and the floor that was simultaneously sticky and slippery from peanut shells.
"Hey, Reedy!" called the bartender, and she waved to him before grabbing the last empty high top with two stools. 
Jake smirked. "Are you a regular at Chippy's?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes with a grin as she took a seat. 
"If you were in my shoes, you'd need a shitty beer at the end of the day more often than not, too."
And then to Jake's surprise, the older bartender stopped by the table with two beers and a bowl of peanuts. He set them down next to Jessica's red notebook. "Reedy," he said with a wink before looking at Jake like he was already on thin ice. 
When he headed back to the bar, Jake sat on the stool opposite hers and watched as she took a sip of her beer. Then she licked her lips, and Jake leaned a little closer.
"Okay, so earlier you said you're an aviator?" she asked, looking at his uniform shirt. "You're a naval Lieutenant? Top Gun?"
"That's right," he confirmed, and that smile was back. "Your lecture took me right back to my Physics of Propulsion and Combustion class from about ten years ago."
She cracked open a peanut, and Jake watched her toss the shell to the floor without a care in the world, and he laughed. 
"What were you doing in my lecture anyway?" she asked before popping the peanut into her mouth.
Jake suddenly remembered Bradshaw and his wife and his ride home. He'd gotten completely lost in Jessica and managed to forget all about everything else. "I actually came with a friend of mine, but he went to a different lecture. I just picked a door at random, and let me tell you, I'm happy I ended up in your lecture hall."
She pressed her lips together, and he crushed a peanut of his own. "Well, I hope you learned something useful today, Jake."
"I did," he replied, throwing the shell over his shoulder, and Jessica laughed. "I learned that if I'm not nice to the best physics professor at San Diego State, the bartender at Chippy's will kick my ass."
The sound of her laughter as she tipped her head back had Jake entranced. Her neck and collarbones looked soft, like they were made for his lips and fingers to explore. And her clothes were kind of sexy in an academic way. Since when was he like Bradshaw, getting turned on by math and college classrooms? 
"Yeah, you better watch your back," she said, cracking into another peanut. "What kind of jet do you fly?"
He had to clear his throat. "F/A-18. Super Hornet."
She moaned softly, and Jake almost dropped his pint glass. "One of my favorites for aerodynamics and combustion studies. I actually just read the most interesting article in the Journal of Propulsion Science about the Super Hornet. It was fascinating, because they touched on-" She froze with a peanut shell in her hand and looked embarrassed. "Sorry."
He wanted her to finish her sentence. He needed her to. She knew about the fucking physics of his aircraft! She was hot as hell! "Keep going," he urged. "Why was it fascinating?"
Jessica licked her lips again and said, "It was fascinating because they touched on the way temperature affects draft and drag."
After that, Jake was completely hooked. He listened to her with rapt attention as she told him a bit more about the article before saying, "I kept the journal. If you ever wanted to borrow it."
"Yes," he replied immediately, leaning even closer to her. "I'd love to borrow it."
"Great," she whispered, adjusting her glasses and finishing her beer. But when she set her glass down, she gasped. "I left my wallet in my office. I was going to treat you to the beer for being so sweet and essentially telling Leeland to go fuck himself earlier."
Jake was the one with his head tipped back in laughter this time. When he met her eyes again, he said, "Oh, you're cute, Jessica. But I was never going to let you pay for the three dollar beers." She giggled and covered her lips with her fingertips, and Jake asked, "You want another pint?"
But then his phone rang, and he muttered, "Sorry," as he dug it out of his pocket. 
Bradshaw
He ignored the call. All of the lectures must be over by now. He was probably ready to leave. But Jake wanted to spend the rest of the night sitting in Chippy's with Dr. Jessica Reed, throwing peanut shells on the floor with reckless abandon.
"You have to go?" she asked softly, and Jake thought she looked a little sad at the prospect. 
"Yeah," he started before his brain helpfully informed him that he could easily stay longer and just get a cab or an Uber to take him home later. 
But when he was about to tell Jessica that he actually wanted to hang out with her longer, she said, "Okay. No worries. I... should get back to my office anyway. Thanks for the beer, Jake." 
And then she stood, and he felt instant regret as he left twenty bucks on the table and followed her outside. But his phone was ringing in his hand as she turned toward the math and science building and pushed the button for the crosswalk. 
Jake answered Bradley's call with a clipped, "Yeah?"
"Meet us at the Bronco." And then the call went silent. 
He watched as Jessica pushed the button for the crosswalk two more times. "Jessica," he started, but she cut him off.
"Thanks again, Jake. Have a great night," she said, running across the street in her high heels. So he ran after her. 
"What happened?" he called after her. "Jessica!" But she was already near the doors that would take her inside to her office. She glanced back at him one last time before she walked inside, and he didn't look away until she was completely out of his sight. 
"Fuck," he shouted, turning back toward the street where the Bronco was parked. Everything had been going well. Fucking great. Jessica was smart and attractive. Funny, too. And the chemistry was definitely there. He was almost certain he was about to seal the deal with her phone number. 
As he rounded the corner, he saw Bradshaw leaning against the Bronco. "There you are," he said, opening the driver's door and sliding the seat forward for Jake to climb in the back. 
"Which lecture did you end up attending?" his wife asked as Bradley started the engine and pulled away from the curb.
"Physics," he muttered, still trying to figure out how he managed to fuck up the night. Then he looked at her again. "Hey, do you know anything about Jessica Reed?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. She's nice. Physics professor. Kind of keeps to herself, probably because the rest of her department is comprised of a bunch of old douchebags. She's only been at the school one year longer than me. Why do you ask? Ohhhh," she said knowingly and turned to look at him. "She's a genius, and she's gorgeous."
"Sounds like she's a little bit out of your league, man," Rooster said with a laugh. 
Jake raked his fingers through his hair. "More like a lot," he said, fully agreeing with Bradshaw for once.
"Don't act like I'm not out of your league, Beer Boy," his wife said. And then Jake had to endure their little cuddle fest for the rest of the drive while he mentally kicked himself for having no clue how to treat a woman who he wanted to get to know, not just get in his bed. 
-----------------------------
Give it up, Jake. You're just as bad as Beer Boy. Oh, Jessica, where did you go? I'm kind of torn between leaving this as a one-shot and writing a second part. Big thanks for @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 2
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xmalereader · 5 months
Text
PS5 Peter Parker x Male Reader
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☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆
REQUEST: May I request a PS5 Peter Parker x Male Reader. The reader and Peter used to be a thing when they were in high school but, they didn't work due to Peter's distance and cold because of him being spiderman especially when aunt May died. Years later, they encountered each other, the reader achieved his dream of being a writer, he wrote a book about him and unexpectedly, Peter came to his convention. Peter has been following the reader ever since they broke up, he always checks up on what he was doing daily without him. He visited the reader's convention hoping for a closure and confessed that he still loves the reader.
TAG: @jihanbang
WC: 4.7K
CONTENT/WARNINGS: Fluff, angst, mentions of high school sweethearts, age gap ( one year difference ), Peter is angsty, reader is a writer, break ups and make ups, request made, insomniac Peter Parker, Spider-Man, some mature language, memories, childhood, high school memories. Peter POV, OOC Peter Parker.
NOTES: I may have gone a little overboard with this one, but I don’t care. I’ve actually been planning on writing an angsty Peter about ex lovers and all and when I saw your request I just had to write it right away. I was gonna keep it short but instead took it further almost 5k! (°▽°), but anyways I enjoyed writing this and put it as Peter perspective. I hope you enjoy this shot because I know I did!
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Peter stares at the poster board plastered on the front window of the cities famous bookstore that he’d been passing by on the way out of F.E.A.S.T. He wasn’t much of a reader when it came towards books of fantasy or romance and would much rather have his nose stuck between the pages of a physics and engineering book, but he’d for sure read this new one coming out soon. His eyes drift over to the authors picture, staring at the smiling man and taking in their appearance. How long has it been since he’s last seen that smile?
Peter remembers the first time he saw that smile.
He was sixteen years old and freshly new to high school near his aunt May’s place. He’d grown nervous and anxious at the idea of starting his first year of his last three years of education before collage could even start, he remembers arriving late on his first day, flustered and embarrassed when walking into his first period only to have everyone laugh at him when the teacher points out his tardiness to the whole class.
He was embarrassed, but also lucky enough to get a seat in the back of the classroom where no one would see him. The only difference was that the only spot avaliable was next to the schools president who was a year older than Peter and the only Junior in his first period class. Peter always steered away from class representatives having experience their egos back in middle school. The good thing was that he didn’t have to deal with it all day and only for the first hour of school.
Until he found out that the president was in all of his classes, meaning that he would be seeing the kid for the whole school year and being partnered with him in various projects together. When he was first partnered with the class president he figured that he would be the only one doing the project and getting them an easy A only to get the total opposite from him.
Peter was surprised when Y/n sat next to him during class, shoulders bumping as he opens their textbooks and began to plan out their project and what subject they should look into along with figuring out where to meet up and when to get started. Peter didn’t think that the class president would actually help him out or put the work into their project.
He figured that he was only being nice because he was the schools star until he started following Peter everywhere. He’d invite him to eat lunch together or even drag him to the library in order to get started on their project it wasn’t until Peter actually freaked out when Y/n followed him home, thinking that he was being stalked and gained the confidence to stick up to the president, glaring at the junior and asking him why he was following him and claiming him to be a stalker.
Only for Y/n to laugh at Peters accusations and quickly clear up the problem by telling him that he actually lived in the same street as him, pointing out to the house just a few blocks down from Peters aunts place. Lets just say that Peter was embarrassed that day.
It wasn’t until their time together became a routine.
Y/n would be waiting for Peter every morning in order to walk to school together, visiting his place and joining his and aunt Mays dinner nights and keeping them company. There time together almost everyday caused a strange feeling to bloom deep down inside of Peter, questioning himself as to why he was feeling this way whenever he was around Y/n.
Peter liked science and like a scientist he had to experiment.
So, the teen started the process. His mornings with Y/n on the way to school were normal the two always talking about class work that was left unfinished or Y/n telling Peter about the different ideas he had in mind for the students and making sure that the year ends perfectly for everyone. There lunch together was also normal with Peter sitting across from Y/n as he eats his chocolate pudding, staring at the other teen who also eats his lunch and passing Peter his own pudding cup.
Y/n knew that Peter liked the schools chocolate pudding and always gave him his each time they got it for lunch without even having to offer it and Peter would easily take it without hesitation and eat a spoonful while they continued to converse.
Peter didn’t get that familer feeling anymore and figured that he was possibly just sick that day. Only to get that same feeling again when their both sitting in his bedroom after finishing up their project with Y/n rambling to Peter about his writing and the amount of ideas he had in mind while showing his drafts, sitting so close to each other that they can feel each others breaths.
That’s when Peter discovered that he was crushing on the class president.
Which resulted into Peter screaming into his pillow that night after going to bed. He couldn’t be crushing on Y/n out of all people why him? Since his discovery he was much more careful around Y/n, cutting their time together, leaving earlier than him in the mornings to the point that he had to fake being sick in order to avoid seeing him.
It didn’t take long for Y/n to notice Peter avoiding him and he wasn’t one to let things drag on. The day that Peter arrived to school an hour early in order to avoid Y/n he didn’t expect himself to be grabbed by the back of his backpack and dragged inside the janitors closet. He panics at first until he’s face to face with Y/n, staring at him with wide eyes and noticed how angry he looked.
“You’re avoiding me.”
Peter chuckled nervously while shrugging. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Cut the crap, Peter.”
Peter can’t help but wince softly by his stern voice, avoiding eye contact when he feels his heart race, noticing how close Y/n is being while he continues to talk.
“You’re always leaving earlier than me in the mornings which is funny because your always waking up late and I have to be the one to wake you up—you stopped eating lunch with me and your always taking sick days which never happens because you hate missing school and you never get sick!” He continued to ramble on, losing Peter half way when he’s staring at him with admiration. The fact that Y/n not only noticed Peters avoidance but also pointed out the smallest things about him that not many people knew about, not even his aunt did.
“—and then you leave me behind after school when we always walk back home together and you don’t answer my texts! So, I figured that I’d corner you before school started in order to get answers.”
Peter is pulled from his thoughts and focused back on Y/n, staring at him as he stands before him with crossed arms and a frown on his face and a raised brow, waiting for an answer.
“It’s complicated.”
“Bullshit.”
Y/n was quick to respond, surprising Peter.
The two are staring each other down until Y/n sighs in defeat, frown softening while breaking contact and rubbing his temples. “Look, I won’t push you to tell me but can I least ask…did I do something to make you act this way?” His voice is filled with concern which only makes Peter quickly speak up. “No! No you didn’t do anything its…” He hesitates to speak, growing afraid and anxious by how Y/n will react when confessing his feelings.
He’s afraid to lose the person he really cares for, but he can’t always keep his feelings bottled up.
“Peter—?”
“I like you.”
Y/n’s breath hitched when hearing Peters confession, eyes full of surprise and with a gaped mouth. Before he could say anything Peter continues on. “I didn’t know until I started being around you more often and ever time I’m around you my hearts races and my stomach makes me feel like I want to throw up. I was avoiding you because I was afraid of how you’d react if you found out and I thought it would be better for me to keep my distance in hopes of getting rid of these feelings, but it only made me feel worse.”
Peter would think that Y/n would reject him and possibly leave him alone in the closet, ending their friendship after confessing. He didn’t think that he’d pulled into a kiss, warm hands cupping his cheeks and soft lips against his own. Peters eyes were wide in and face going red, he wasn’t only full of surprise but it was also his first kiss.
“You’re an idiot if you didn’t think i’d feel the same way.” Y/n says against Peters lips when breaking apart.
From that moment on the two started dating.
Peter expected the entire school to find out that their popular Vice president was dating him only to get nothing due to them keeping their relationship private. Y/n wanted to continue enjoying his time with Peter in school without being bombarded with questions by the various popular students who liked him. The two had their peace for the first year until graduation neared.
During Y/n’s last year of school he had told everyone that he wasn’t running for president for his Senior year and instead with the extra time he had he spent it at Peters place after school. The two would listen to each others talk passionately about what they loved with Peter talking fondly about his science projects and him listening to Y/n ramble on about his writing and his book ideas that he’s noted down for Peter to read and critique.
Everything was going well until it wasn’t.
Before Peter and Y/n officially started dating he focused on his duties as the cities hero, never having to worry about keeping it a secret from anyone else but his Aunt only to find out that he’d have to eventually tell Y/n about it which only freaked him out. He couldn’t allow him to know due to the fear of ruining their relationship and perhaps putting him in danger if things were to get bad as he continued to be the cities hero.
So, little by little Peter became distant towards Y/n.
Coming up with excuses as to why he didn’t want to go out to the point that arguments started over the smallest things. Peter wanted to keep Y/n close to him but the fear of being discovered as to why he’s always late to their small dates caused him to make the worst decision ever. It was the week before senior graduation that he broke up with Y/n, making up a lie that he didn’t want to hold him back when he’s in college and should have the freedom to be with other people who were far better than him.
Peter couldn’t even look him in the eyes when he utters those words and instead runs away like a coward.
That same night he had cried himself to sleep, feeling devastated and broken by his poor decision but also telling himself that it was for the best. Peter avoided Y/n on the days that he tried to talk to him, coming over to his aunts place to try and have a conversation only to be pushed away, keeping himself busy with his Spider-Man duties and spending more time in the city.
It wasn’t until after graduation that Y/n moves out of his parents place and got himself an apartment on the other side of the city, far away from Peter. He didn’t have to worry about going outside and bumping into his ex each time he checked the mail or took out the trash even though Peter wished to see him again he knew it’s was better to stay away.
Even after twelve years he couldn’t stop thinking about the man.
As the years went on he had found Y/n on social media, checking in on his profile every few weeks and taking notice of the various pictures that are posted along with interviews and conventions about his book that is to be released soon. Peter didn’t want to look like a stalker checking his ex’s socials, but can’t help himself and do it.
After returning back home from F.E.A.S.T he didn’t expect to find MJ working in the living room. Even though the two were close friends she had recently moved in with him as a way of saving some money and making living easier for the both of them.
“What are you doing?” Peter asked when enter the house and closing the door behind him while heading towards the kitchen to make himself something to eat while he listened to MJ type away on her computer. “Just on a new article.” She answers and looks up from her computer to see Peter searching the fridge. MJ took the opportunity to close her laptop and rush over to Peter with a smirk on his face.
“An article about what?” Peter closed the fridge after taking out the orange juice and slightly jolts by MJ’s sudden close appearance, startling him and sighing deeply.
“About Y/n.”
Peter froze at the familiar name.
Even though him and MJ had been friends for years he hadn’t told her or Harry about his past relationship with Y/n he never even mentioned dating someone when he was with them. He wasn’t ashamed he just didn’t want to bring up something he regrets ruining.
“The author?” He stutters out and focused back on pouring himself a drink and setting the carton of orange juice aside while he listened to MJ. “Yeah! I got to interview him about his book and he was very nice.” She went on about her time with Y/n. “Oh! He actually gave me a copy of his book before the release date and I took today to start reading it, I’m half way through but I really like it. I think its kind of cute that he turned his life story into a little fairy tale of his own.” She chuckled while approaching the living room where she picks up the book.
Peters eyes land on the cover page and watched her open the book to where she left off, his eyes averting as he focused on drinking his juice.
“Check this out! While I was reading it I noticed that the love interest has the same name as you.”
Peter chokes on his juice.
Spitting and coughing by the action.
“Are you okay?” MJ approached him, patting his back as she looks at him with worry only for Peter to reassure her that he’s fine and that he choked on his juice, claiming that he was drinking to face when in reality he was shocked by MJ’s words.
“Can I see?” He points towards the open book that she left open on the counter. “sure.” Her approval is all he needed for him to pick up the book and scan the pages, eyes moving back and forth as he read a few paragraphs and noticed how familiar the sounded to him. He doesn’t realize how engrossed he is that MJ clears her throat. “You can borrow it if you want, although you don’t look like the kind of guy who reads this sort of stuff.” She teased, earning a small laugh from Peter.
“You’d be surprised.” He gives off a faint smile, checks turning red as he closed the book. “Would it be alright for me to borrow it? I won’t move your bookmark.” He said.
MJ chuckled while nodding her head. “You can borrow it, just make sure to give it back once your done. I want to know what happens next.”
Peter promises MJ that he’ll return it once he’s finished.
He doesn’t read it right away and instead waits until sunset when he’s getting ready for bed, finally getting the peace and quiet that he needs before he takes the book from his nightstand and stares at the cover, growing nervous by the second until he finally decides to open the book.
Peter spends the entire night reading Y/n’s writing and realizing that his story is a reflection of their past relationship only with a few changes here and there, but it felt like Peter was watching a movie about his past and the things that both he and Y/n did together. He remembers the amount of drafts and ideas that Y/n wold show Peter and how he struggled to write a good story. He remembers Y/n telling him that he wanted a story that his readers would actually enjoy a story that will pull them in to the point where they are begging for more.
The story is written in Y/n’s perspective, obviously using a different name for the character he’s writing about. It’s the way that the words are perfectly written for him to understand and remember those days of them being together. It all came crawling back to him as he nears the end only to find out that the ending was different.
Instead of both characters breaking up the story continues on with Y/n’s perspective of his life in college, not giving much detail about what happened to the relationship and ending with him finding joy in writing. Which leaves Peter questioning himself, why?
When he completes the book he sets it aside sitting in silence and thinking about everything that happened between the two. He thinks about the first time they kisses, their first date, the first time that Y/n convinced Peter to sneak out to a party, the time that Y/n snuck inside Peters bedroom window as the two snuck around like teenagers would.
He also thinks about their break up and how scared he was to even look at Y/n when ending it between the two.
It was obvious that he still loved him and after twelve years he couldn’t let go.
Peter shouldn’t be here.
He shouldn’t be at this convention when he clearly told himself that he’d keep his distance and yet, here he stands in a line full of fans that came to see Y/n and get their books signed. His hand gripped a copy of the book, growing anxious each time the line got closer only to chicken out every time he gets close and head back to the end of the line.
His anxiety washed away every time he got to the back of the line and did this almost five times until the line was cut short when announced that this was Y/n’s hour before leaving, meaning that Peter couldn’t turn back nor could he avoid confrontation. His heart raced as the line moved closer, keeping his head down in hopes of avoiding getting attention. He found out that he was the last one in line which would make the whole situation less awkward between the two.
He wouldn’t be holding anyone back and could leave whenever he can without a problem.
That was until his turn came up.
After the young girl in front of him gets her book signed and goes along her day he noticed Y/n turning around in order to get another marker due to the last one running out of ink, not noticing Peter when he approached the table. He slides the book in front of Y/n and when he turns back around his focus is on the book first, smiling as he flips it open.
“Sorry about that my last maker ran out and had to get a new one! But, good thing your the last I’m in no rush!” He chuckled out, being friendly as always as he flips to the front page where he signs his name. “who am I signing this for?”
Peter hesitates.
“Peter Parker.”
He noticed Y/n freeze mid signature, looking up slowly to face Peter.
After twelve years Y/n hadn’t changed a bit, his hair was still the same and so was his sense of fashion, remembering when he was teased for wearing a coat the minute fall started even though it wasn’t even cold outside yet.
The two stare at each other in silence only for Peter to break the tension between them. “I liked your book.”
Y/n blinks at him, focusing back on the book and clearing his throat while he nods. “Thanks…” He finished signing the book and closed the cover, sliding the book back to Peter while avoiding eye contact.
Peter wanted to wince, but it was expected. He ended things terribly between them and didn’t blame Y/n for avoiding him. As he reached out to take the book back into his hand he lets his fingers trace over the binding the tension between them growing even more as they remain silent amongst themselves.
“Why did you end it like that?”
Peters question gets Y/n’s attention, finally looking at him with a confused look. “What?”
“The story, why did you end it like that?”
Y/n licks his lips. “Because I thought it fit well.”
“Even when you know what the ending was really like?”
Peter wasn’t trying to judge his writing or criticize the ending, he was simply confused as to why he ended it when him sounding like everything was fine when in reality the ending would have been different if he had added their break up into it.
Y/n doesn’t know what to say, remaining silent as he stands from his seat and tried to keep himself distracted by cleaning up his area and pouting things away. “Why does it matter?”
“Because I know what its really about.” Peter speaks up, taking a step forward and setting the book down on the table as he watched Y/n collect his things. “You’ve showed me your writing before and I know how much you like being honest in your stories—“
“Not everything has to be true.” Y/n blurts out getting Peters attention who gets cut off mid conversation while looking at the man that he knew loved to write stories with passion who’d quickly pull out his phone the minute an idea came to minute and would note it down for later.
“What do you mean?”
His question causes Y/n to really look at him. “Yes, the story is about us and yes I changed the ending, but that doesn’t mean that everything is true. If you want the truth then I am more than happy to tell you the truth.” He glares at Peter while shoving his jacket inside his bag. “The truth is that I was miserable in college, I hated that place and the people who were there with me. I didn’t care for anyone and I stopped writing for years because every time I sit down and pick up a pen and start writing I can’t help but think about you all the time and that stupid smile on your face. I found it hard to visit my family knowing that you lived just a few blocks down.”
Peters heart races when listening to his explanation.
“So I figured, why not write our story the way I always thought it would be like?”
By the time he was done talking he had finished getting his things, giving peter one last look before leaving, brushing past Peter and making his way towards the exit while Peter stood back and watched. He felt like he was losing him all over again telling himself that it wasn’t worth it and to move on like he has been in the last twelve years, but after reading his book after getting the truth as to why he wrote it he knows he can’t sit back this time and watch as the person he still loves slip away from him.
So, Peter is quick to react. He’s rushing after Y/n and running out of the bookstore, looking both ways until his eyes land on Y/n who walked further up ahead. He’s running after him, chasing down the man and grabbing him by the arm and he pulls him into an alley way, perhaps not the best place but the only one that can give them some privacy from the public eye.
“what are you—!?”
“I’m sorry.” Peter cuts in.
“Peter—“
“No, let me finish.” He cuts in again, this time letting go of Y/n’s arm. “I’m tired of running and I’m tired of letting the best thing get away from me. I know what I did to you was horrible and it was the most dick thing I could ever to do and yes, you should be mad at me and you should hate me for it, but I never stopped thinking about it. You have no idea how many times I wanted to reach out and apologize but every time I thought about it I couldn't help but think about how I ended things and I regret everything about it.”
Y/n sighs softly, eyes softening as he leans back against the wall. “Then answer me this, why did you end things?”
Peter froze, the familiar fear crawling back to him.
“Because I.,,” He couldn’t speak. “Because I was afraid to lose you if I told you the truth. I was afraid that you’d possibly stop liking me or end things with me first before anything else.” He was rambling at this point knowing that he wasn’t telling him everything and was still avoiding the truth.
“Peter,” Y/n’s voice is enough to bring him back. “The truth, now.” His tone grew stern, glaring this time.
Peter sighs in defeat. “I didn’t break up with you because of you going to college, I broke up with you because I was afraid of telling you that I’m Spider-Man…” He finally says the words, finally revealing the truth. He expects Y/n to laugh at him or perhaps walk away without a word only to hear the most jaw dropping thing ever.
“I knew.”
‘you knew—how?”
Y/n laughed at Peters shock. “Peter I was always paying attention. I knew that something wasn’t right when you grew distant with me and I didn’t realize until I found your suit hidden under your bed. I didn’t want to believe that my boyfriend was Spider-Man until I started piecing everything together.” He explains to Peter. “You were always late to our dates, ditching classes which you never do, I even noticed the amount of muscles you gained when we were in gym together.”
Peter blushed at the last statement not realizing how much Y/n stared at him each time he changed in front of him.
“If you knew why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to freak you out and instead I decided to wait until you were ready to tell me…and this is the results.” He points a finger between the two, realizing that this all caused them to break up even when he already knew. Peter felt even worse now that he knew the truth, wanting to punch himself and feeling ashamed of himself.
While Peter cursed at himself for everything, Y/n speaks up with a small smile on his face. “So you thought about me?” Peter blushed at his comment. “Yeah.” He answers honestly, staring at the man who chuckled. “You wrote a book about me.”
“Technically it wasn’t about you it was about us.”
“Still counts,”
Y/n can only laugh which makes Peter smile feeling like teenagers again. Their laughter and smiles bring them back memories of their time together and perhaps they can make new ones
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strawberryspence · 1 year
Text
Steve is 19 when Eddie first says it. It's the night Eddie comes home from the hospital, body all bandaged up to help him heal. Steve picks him up, drops him off the brand new trailer and has to say his goodbyes. He's the one who's been staying with Max at the hospital since Lucas started going to school again. Eddie watches, seated on the door, shoulders leaning against the frame.
Eddie waves at him, hand still wrapped protectively on his middle. There's a tired smile on his face, "See you tomorrow, Steve." It's the first time Eddie ever calls him by his first name.
Steve is 20 and Eddie Munson has been saying, "See you tomorrow!" as his goodbye to him since that night. Robin thinks it's for him and for him only. Steve watches Eddie, something he does a lot these days. He watches as he says his goodbye to the kids, says goodbye to Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Argyle. Eddie never once says the words, "See you tomorrow!"
Steve waits for everyone to be gone, hitching rides from the other older kids. Eddie turns to him when everyone has finally left, "Are you staying, Stevie?"
"No. I am leaving too."
Eddie smiles at him, cheeky and dimpled, brown eyes shimmering like a fucking gem against the cheap yellow fluorescent light, "Well then, see you tomorrow, sweetheart."
It clicks. It's not a goodbye, It's a promise. Eddie will see Steve tomorrow, come hell or high water. A promise made for him, and him only.
Steve pulls Eddie by the lapels of his ridiculously shiny jacket and kisses him straight in the mouth.
Steve is 23 when Eddie and him move in to their first apartment together. It's dingy, kind of old, but hey, it's freaking cheap. They unpack boxes of things that was given by Joyce, Karen, Hop, Mrs. Henderson and Mrs. Sinclair. It's not much but it makes their bare home more livable.
They sleep on the floor with Steve's old mattress laid in the middle of the room, unopened boxes and furniture scattered surrounding them.
It's the first night they sleep together in their first home.
"See you tomorrow, sunshine." Eddie kisses his forehead, his nose and then his lips.
Eddie never says goodnight, just see you tomorrow.
Steve is 25 and it's the first time Eddie won't see him tomorrow. Eddie has to go to New York because Corroded Coffin just got discovered by an agent who wants to sign them.
It's okay. Eddie still calls every night, thank God the time differences of Chicago and New York isn't that big. Steve makes sure Robin isn't using the phone, so Eddie could call and tell him about his day with producers and songwriters and music and Steve can tell him about school essays and presentations for his Education class.
And always, always, just like every night since he was 19, Eddie ends the call with, "See you tomorrow." With whatever name he feels like that day. Sometimes it's sunshine, sometimes it's Stevie, sometimes it's love or baby or sweetheart. It doesn't really matter because it's all Steve.
Sometimes it's not true. Steve doesn't see Eddie the next day. Sometimes it goes on weeks and months on ends before the greeting finally means they get to see each other again.
That's okay. Steve's okay with it because if not tomorrow, he knows he'll still see Eddie again.
Steve is 34 when he hears Eddie say the greeting to someone else for the first time. Adoption is exhausting and repetitive and long and grueling but in the end— with a tiny little baby, cradled right against your arm— it's perfect.
Kids are always a mess. Steve knows because he has seven of them already, all grown up, all spread out in the country, all doing things on their own. And it's exhausting and takes out so much energy from you and your partner.
But with Eddie, all the weariness in his bones dissipate at the image of him, rocking their child on a rocking chair, humming a soft song as he finally tells them, "See you tomorrow, peanut."
Steve is 47 when Eddie and him finally get married. Joyce and Robin plan the wedding and as ridiculous as it sounds, they separate the two of them the night before. Steve rolls his eyes, kisses his groom on the cheek and waits for Eddie to say the four magic words.
"See you tomorrow, fiancé." Eddie whispers against his lips.
They get married the next day, under the bright beaming sun, spring flowers surrounding them as their daughter reluctantly spreads flowers for them.
Steve thinks he's heard so many variations of the greeting, but, "See you tomorrow, husband." might be his favorite from all of them.
Steve is 54 and it's the first time Eddie doesn't say it to him before going to bed. They both silently slip into the bed together, hands intertwined together like the other will float away if they let go.
Apparently being tortured and experimented with half of your childhood has some bad outcomes. It's the day they find out that El has a brain tumor.
Steve is 56 and the Party sleeps beside him and Eddie, tucked into each other like they're 15 again. The last time the Party had a sleepover was in 2000. They still all have sleepovers, don't get him wrong. What Steve means is the sleepover where they're all squished together on the floor, clinging onto each other as they sleep soundly, knowing they're safe and sound with their friends.
They have a sleep over just like that one last time.
"See you tomorrow. I love you." Eddie whispers, just as he falls asleep.
The expired eggos in their fridge gets thrown out six months later.
Steve is 65 when he gets to meet their first grandchild. Eddie is adamant that he is not crying, but his glasses make his tears more visible, making them look like actual diamonds coming out of his eyes.
Their daughter laughs, and lets them hold him for the first time. Steve is a blabbering mess of tears, holding the baby close to his chest. They stay the whole night, to help take care of the baby and their daughter.
And there's nothing more beautiful than the moment the nurse has to take their grandchild away from their daughter and she whispers, as gentle as a feather, "See you tomorrow, Ellie."
Steve is 73 when Eddie first forgets to say goodnight. It's Alzheimer's, it's—
It's not okay. It's never going to be okay. But Steve has to be okay, has to carry on for the love of his life. He takes care of Eddie, because he vowed to do so the day they got married, because he loves this man and he will do anything for him.
Steve tucks Eddie at night, after fits of confusion as to where he is, as to who he is, and kisses his forehead, soft and gentle, and says, "See you tomorrow, Eds."
Steve is 82 when he hears it for the last time.
Eddie's health has been declining. Nine years after his first prognosis, Steve takes it as a win, nine years and his love still battles it everyday.
They've been living in a nursing home, Steve is also getting too old to take care of Eddie. His bones are weary in ways that never goes away, his sight and hearing has always been bad but time has made it worst.
There's something called terminal lucidity. The doctors explain to Steve, in the most gentle way he's ever heard, "You're husband will probably, theoretically, have a moment of clarity where he remembers everything and it will seem like you have him back, but for us it is the sign of his health declining further. I am sorry, Mr. Munson."
Eddie gets it a few days later, and they talk nonstop. They talk about the kids, their grandchildren, about their friends, about how they've lived their lives. They open up photo albums, and point and laugh and smile and cry. Steve excuses himself to go to the bathroom, but only so he can call the others, so they could say their goodbyes. The kids fly in, from all around the country, to say goodbye.
Eddie goes a few hours later, warm and comfortable in his bed, cuddled next to Steve with a big dopey smile on his face, "See you tomorrow, Steve."
Steve smiles back, as Eddie closes his eyes. He stops fighting the ache in his bones, the never-ending beat in his scars.
"See you tomorrow, Eddie."
Steve doesn't see Eddie the next day, not the next, not the next, not the nex—
Until, he finally sees Eddie again.
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comicaurora · 6 months
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I've started making my way through the playlist hbomberguy made of actually good video essays by queer creators and spotted a comment of yours on the one about the relationship between Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, which was fun xD red in the wild!
Anyways, just wanted to appreciate how both you and Blue and you are very good at showing your sources! It's always nice to know that the people you've watched for years have good habits after an event like this, and I hope you guys are among the people that get some new fans after this whole debacle, because your channel definitely qualifies for "good educational videos made by queer people"
I'm glad! Blue's much better about listing his sources and follow-up reading than I am.
To be honest, I loved the video, but my imposter syndrome always flares like crazy when I watch an essay like that. It might be the ADHD or it might just be who I am as a person, but I feel like I've lived my whole life striving to make everything I do the best it can be, and still managing to fuck up and get criticised for things I could've done better if only I never missed anything. It's an actual gut-drop when it turns out a source I used wasn't trustworthy, or when in older videos I only went wiki-deep for some claims and didn't check every source to be 100% sure I wasn't being goat-fish'd. And this being the internet, I can get criticized at any time for things I've gotten wrong years ago, since it's evergreen online and to the new-viewing critic it's as fresh as yesterday. It makes it hard for me to stay proud of my work past the first moment of "oh I would've done that different now". There's a cocktail of complicated, scary feelings around this space, no matter how little I actually have in common with the bad guys of this scenario - it's less about the reality and more about who my imposter syndrome tells me I am. I saw several people saying that the video actually made them feel much better about their own work because it made it clear that accidental plagiarism on that scale is impossible, but if my anxieties listened to reason I would've successfully machete'd them out of my skull years ago. I just hope I never fuck up badly enough to deserve an hbombing of my own.
But my own stress aside, the hbomb essay exposed a level of laxness, laziness and entitlement on the part of these plagiarists that I think is almost incomprehensible to people who actually create for a living or even just the joy of it. How hollow do you have to be to take in someone else's writing and not consider it, digest it, let it reshape your views and then formulate your own interpretation on it, but instead to file off the serial numbers and pretend it's yours, trusting that the person whose thoughts and words you valued enough to steal will never be powerful enough to call you out on it? I go down research rabbit holes because I love the frustration and thrill of putting something together! How joyless it must be to skim the surface and borrow someone else's conclusions!
I've sometimes had people email asking for sources on parts of my interpretation of various myths, possibly in the interest of source-citing for school papers (a nightmare concept in and of itself) and with very few exceptions I usually have to tell them "the only sources were the english translations I used of the primary source where the myth was originally written, like I said in the video, and the part where I said I was conspiracy-boarding has no source other than my own analysis of the given source, which is why I called it conspiracy-boarding" and I was always a little baffled by those emails - half the videos are introduced like "this is The Prose Edda" or "this is in Ovid's Metamorphoses" or "this bit is Hesiod" so what else could they want - but seeing the hbomb of the week made me realize that truly original analysis might not be what most people are expecting from a "thing summarized." They might be expecting a compilation of other people's summaries instead.
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lainiespicewrites · 9 months
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Coach Syverson
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Okay, Y'all I'm trying something new and posting one of my Henry Cavill Character fics. I haven't posted a fanfic in so long it's gonna be a short story probably only a two-parter maybe 3. Let me know what you think! I loved writing this. I think it's so cute!!!!
Warnings: None for Part 1 :) Definitely will be smut in part 2!
High school football coach Sy and school guidance counselor OFC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was locked in a trance,  typing in progress notes from an early morning meeting I’d just finished with a student.  The sounds of the office, which was just coming to life outside my door, fuelled me. I almost never came in this early. But, one of my seniors was having a crisis and this was the only time we could work into her busy schedule. It’s gonna break my heart when that girl graduates this year. I get so attached to the students. I can’t help working as a school counselor. It's hard not to.  
“You’re in early,” The voice coming from the doorway made me jump. He chuckled softly.  “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”  After a brief heart attack, I finally looked up. I smiled when my eyes met his. 
“No, it’s okay, I just didn’t see you! Good morning Coach, What can I do for you?” His soft blue eyes held my gaze, before shooting me a gentle smile. Coach Syverson and I had become good friends since he started working at the school a little over a year ago. Like many good high school football coaches, they made a history teaching spot for him. Unlike others, he’s actually a great teacher! 
I met Logan Syverson for the first time in a staff meeting. Our principal introduced him at the beginning of the meeting going on and on about all the improvements he would bring to our team and our community. He certainly looked like a football player. The guy was huge! Tall, large muscles, and a full beard. His eyes were a deep blue. He had a winning smile and a southern accent. The English department was drooling. I hated him immediately. 
I figured he was just going to be a self absorbed prick like the last coach. who only cared about the popular students, peaked in high school, and got fired because he got a little too close to one of the cheerleaders. We were not at all sorry to see him go. Well, those of us with half a brain weren’t anyway. Some of the community and staff were more worried about the football program. But I digress. 
I was even more annoyed with him when I caught him falling asleep during the same meeting 30 minutes later when we were discussing the budget for new textbooks. I’m not exactly sure what came over me but I kicked him under the table. He was immediately alert. I expected him to glare at me. Or maybe even smirk. But the look on his face could only be described as apologetic. He quickly caught up to me when we were leaving the meeting. “Some first impression I made, huh?” When I didn’t immediately respond he added. “I swear I’m not some asshole that doesn’t care about education, that’s not like me, just didn’t sleep much last night. I had to take my dog to the emergency vet, she broke her leg in the woods late in the evening and didn’t get back until late and…”
“Is she okay?” I asked quickly. He looked completely dumbfounded.
“Uhm what?” He asked, clearly confused. I smiled sympathetically. I did exactly what I told my students not to do and judged him too quickly and I felt like an ass about it. 
“You’re dog, is she okay?” He smiled softly and nodded. 
“Yeah, Yeah she is. They got her all wrapped up and in a cast, poor pup, but she’ll be alright.” There was a brief pause and then. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
“The students know me as Miss Plummer, but it’s Alayna. And um.. Sorry I kicked you. I don’t  know why I did that.” I smiled sheepishly. 
“Alayna,” He repeated. And then chuckled and squeezed my shoulder “No need to apologize, I’m glad you did. That would’ve been embarrassing. Falling asleep in my first staff meeting doesn’t really look good. Thanks for saving my ass back there!”
 We were fast friends from that point on!
Sy pushed off the door frame he’d been leaning against and walked into my office. “Brought ya coffee, I was gonna sneak in and leave it on your desk but I guess it’s you surprising me this morning,” He said, setting the cup from our local coffee shop down on my desk. 
“That’s sweet of you!” I took a sip and almost choked. I expected just plain black coffee. He wasn’t the kind of guy to order fancy coffee. But this was actually my coffee order. “How did you know my coffee order?” He had a big grin on his face now. 
“I remembered it from that morning when we ran into each other in line a few weeks ago. Thought I’d be nice and bring my work wife some coffee since I was there.” He shrugged. He really was such a sweetheart. He looked tough and scary. I know he did. When he and a few of the other teachers in the history hall gathered between classes they looked intimidating. At least from a student's perspective.I knew them all well though. I’ve talked with students failing his class because they wouldn’t ask questions. When I asked why, they said they were nervous. But he was certainly no one to be afraid of. Yes, he could yell, but he saved that for the football field. The man was a damn teddy bear. 
“Thank you!” I smiled. I quickly looked out into the guidance office to make sure there were no students around. “But I know you didn’t walk all the way down here just to bring me coffee for the hell of it. You’re buttering me up for something. What do you need, Logan?” He laughed and shook his head plopping down on the edge of my desk.
“You know me too well, sugar. Two things!” He said. I rolled my eyes. “Hey now young lady, don’t get an attitude with me I’m not asking you to give up a kidney!” I hid my smirk behind a sip of coffee and nodded at him to continue.  “First, Can you look up Ty’s grades for me just at some point by the end of the day. He came into my office this morning and was all nervous about his algebra grade, swearing up and down it’s because he failed one quiz. But, I’m pretty sure,” I cut him off. 
“He’s not turning in his homework because he just started dating Caitlyn and they’ve been staying up texting all night.” He raised an eyebrow. 
“Uh, Yeah, How’d you know?”
“Caitlyn stopped in to see me this morning and we had a chat about it, amongst other things. I’ll double check but I’m sure you’re right. I’ll email it to you so you can have a chat with him. I was going to call him in  today but he listens better to you. When you talked about being a veteran and your time in Iraq at the Labor Day assembly, I think that really struck something with him. He looks up to you.” his eyes locked with mine and he smiled softly placing his hand over mine on the desk just for a second. 
“Thank you for saying that,” He said before moving his hand and leaning on the desk again. I just smiled. 
“What’s the other thing?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because you could’ve just sent me that in an email.” He smirked. And his nose crinkled a little. Oh no. 
“So our first away game is tomorrow night,”
“I know,” 
“And you’re a big football fan, and you love those boys don’t you?” He was deflecting
“What do you want, Sy?” I asked again. He let out a long breath. 
“Carol was supposed to be a student chaperone for the student fans buuuttt well, you heard her kid is really sick? I need you to come chaperone. Actually. I kinda already said you would.” He quickly stood up from my desk and backed up to the other side, like he was afraid I’d hit him. 
I just leaned back in my chair and groaned, 
“ugh Sy! What if I had plans?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. He chuckled 
“You don’t!” I scoffed 
“You don’t know that?” I retorted. He smirked 
“Yeah, what big plans do you have for Friday night?” He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. I sighed. 
“Okay I don’t! But I could’ve!” I argued. “Why, didn’t you ask one of the other guys? Like Nick or I don’t know Mike?” I asked. 
“Nick’s an assistant coach, he’ll already be there. And we both know as much as Mike loves teaching…he does not want to spend his Friday night with the kids and at a football game making sure there’s no funny business. And you love the kids.” He was pleading now. Practically giving me puppy dog eyes. “And…Maybe I want you there,” He winked playfully. I looked down and jiggled the mouse on my computer to hide my blush. 
Jessica, who works the front desk of the guidance office swears he flirts with me. But I know he’s not. We’re friends. Good friends. We tease each other to make work a little more fun at best. But that's all it is. A man like Logan Syverson would never look twice at a girl like me. He’s fit and strong and tall and handsome. I’m pretty but I’m short and round and a little too quirky for my own good. Girls like me only get men like him in the movies. And I’m not stupid enough to believe otherwise.  Moment’s like these though. I do wonder a little. But I don’t let my thoughts wander too far. 
“Oh yeah?” I joke, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I mean maybe you’re our good luck charm. You’ve been at all our home games this year and we haven’t lost a game.” He said with a cheeky smile. 
“We’ve only had two Sy.” I say matter of fact. He just shakes his head. 
“That doesn’t mean you’re not good luck, but okay,” He held his hands up in defeat. “If you don’t want to do it I’ll figure something out. I messed up and didn’t ask you first. I’ll tell the boys their favorite guidance counselor doesn’t want to come support them. It’ll break their little hearts sugar but I’m sure they’ll find,” He pauses and lets out an exaggerated sigh “Some way to pull through and play a good game of football.” He frowned, shaking his head. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows looking straight at him. 
“Are you done?” I deadpanned. He snickered softly and nodded. “Fine, I’ll go,” He smiled and walked over squeezing my shoulder. 
“You’re the best! It’s supposed to be chilly! Wear a sweater! And Free coffee,on me all night! I promise,” I rolled my eyes. 
“Yeah, yeah okay,” I chuckled.
“Seriously, I owe you sugar! I’m happy you’ll be there, I better get goin, class starts soon and I probably shouldn’t be late being that I’m the teacher,” He chuckled. 
“Get out of my office Logan!” I laughed. He smiled. 
“You’re the best!” He said one more time before finally walking out of my office. I shook my head and tapped at the keys on my keyboard to wake up my computer. I felt eyes on me and looked up to find Jessica standing in my doorway. 
“Don’t start!” I warned her. 
“Please, sugar. I really want you there!” she mocked. “He knows your coffee order, Alayna. How long are you going to ignore what’s right in front of you?” she asked exasperated. 
“It’s not like that Jess, He was just being sweet because he needed the help.” I said.
“Like you wouldn’t have done it anyway. You were trying to play coy but we both know you would have done it anyway.” She laughed. I blushed. And threw an eraser at her. 
“Get back to work!” She laughed. 
“Whatever you say… Sugar!” I snorted and we both chuckled for a minute. “I mean it Alayna, He’ll be kinda busy during the game and yes you’ll be keeping an eye on the students but take the opportunity to flirt back, he likes you, I’m not wrong!” She turned and walked back to her desk before I had a chance to say anything. And before I could spend any more time thinking about it my email notifications went off pulling me back into my work. 
The rest of my work day went by in a blur. I had meeting after meeting with students. My seniors were in panic mode, my juniors have early onset senioritis, and the freshman and sophomores came into vent about the daily woes of high school drama. Oh to be 16 again. 
With a full schedule of meetings I barely had time to eat lunch even in my office. When my phone lit up with a group text from two of my girlfriends asking about our weekly Thursday night dinner. I was quick to respond. 
(I’ll be there!) I sent the text, before packing up my desk for the evening. It had been a late night for me so it was just past 5. I didn’t bother going home first to change into something more casual. They were used to the office style by now. I felt my shoulders relax a little as I slipped into the booth next to skyler.
“Hey!” she said cheerfully, slowly pushing the glass of white wine they’d ordered for me closer. 
“You know me so well!” I smiled at her. 
“Long day?” Hayley asked from across the table, she picked up a tortilla chip and filled it with queso. I shrugged. 
“Not long in the sense that it was rough, just busy,” Skyler nodded and took a sip for her wine glass. 
“I feel that. I tried to get some school work done while the kids were down for a nap.” She runs an in-home daycare. She adores kids. But she’s also going back to school for a degree, Pediatric nursing. She’s a saint. I don’t know how she does it. 
“I commend you babe. The school is asking me to take classes, they want someone to take on the position as school psychologist. They’ve been trying to nudge me toward it the past couple of weeks. It’d be a raise but, that on top of the current workload? I don’t wanna drown myself ya know?”
“I totally get it, it’s not easy! But you should think about it. You’ve talked about it before! At least consider it.” Skyler said. 
“She’s got a point dude,” Hayley added. “Look at you guys moving up in the world while I’m stuck with an art block. If I can’t think of anything, my online shop isn’t gonna take off and I’ll be stuck at the factory forever!” She groaned and downed a quarter of her strawberry lemonade that was no doubt spiked. I looked sideways, meeting Skyler's eye. She was giving me the same look. 
“You’re just getting started Hayley.” Skyler said. 
“I know but if..”
“Ah, no buts!” I cut her off “We have to allow ourselves room for mistakes and error when we’re trying something new. You will get there. Give yourself the love you give your art! I don’t wanna hear anymore of that self deprecating bullshit from you! The people love their ghost fish!” I demanded, trying to hide a chuckle. She could be so stubborn! She was starting an online etsy shop for commissions and spreading the word through social media. She had all these fun ideas. She was a great artist. But of course it’s not an easy way to make money. And right now, things were slow. She would get there though! I know she would!
“Have I ever told you how annoying it is when you use your psychoanalysis shit on us?” she deadpanned. 
“Everyday but I still do it anyway, and that’s why you love me!”  She just laughed.
“Yeah okay buddy. Enough work talk, I lifted a bunch of heavy shit all day and I don’t wanna think about it. I just wanna eat my chips and queso and get drunk with my friends!” She said and scooped another chip through the queso. I laughed and held up my glass
“Cheers to that! Although we all know damn well it’s a Thursday night and we all have to get up early and we drove separately so drunk is relative but yes!” Skyler laughed and clinked her glass with mine. 
“Let her have her moment. Cheers to drunk Thursday dinner!” she said. 
“Fuck yeah!” Hayley added and added her glass in with ours. We all took a drink and it was quiet for only a second. 
“So,” Skyler spoke immediately. “It’s been a week, what's new?”
“Nothing for me, just still considering the offer to go back to school. My job would pay for it. Love life is still dry and I’ve bought like 3 new spicy romance books on my kindle this week!” I said laughing. 
“Fun!” Skyler smiled. “Hayley?” She asked and directed her attention across the table. 
“I went to Target and spent an obscene amount of money on fall stuff. We have a fall party coming up at work that I volunteered to do face painting for, but that should be fun! Oh there’s this new movie that came out I want you guys to come see with me I was hoping maybe tomorrow night?” she said. I started to agree. But then remembered my conversation with Sy earlier. 
“Oh tomorrow night? I can’t. I’m actually busy!” They both looked at me with raised eyebrows. 
“Since when are you busy on a friday night?” Hayley asked. Here we go. This is gonna open a whole can of worms. If Jess was good at getting my hopes up about Sy, these two were going to have me down right delusional. 
“There’s a football game. I like to support the team.” I said. Skyler snickered and a smirk spread across Hayley’s face. 
“You like to support the coach you mean?” Skyler asked. 
“That’s not true! I’ve always been a football fan!” I defended myself. Hayley chuckled
“Sure but since when do you go to away games? Isn’t it like 2 hours away?” She raised an eyebrow. I sighed. 
“Coach stopped by the office this morning, one of the other teachers that was supposed to chaperone the roadies tomorrow canceled and since he and I are friends he volunteered me to do it. He buttered me up with free coffee this morning and practically begged me to go tomorrow and… I just can’t say no to him. Plus he said he really wants me to be there.”  I swirled my wine glass and stared down at it. I knew the looks they were giving me.  I heard skyler squeal.
“Shut up! He asked you to come because he wants to spend time with you! Watch, I bet next week he’ll ask you out!”  She bounced in her seat. 
“He does not! He’s going to be busy with the team! He’s not going to have time to talk to me or anything.” I said taking a big gulp of wine. 
“Why else would he say he wants you there though. And clearly you want him to hang out with you. Or you want to hang out with him. Or you wouldn’t have given up your precious Friday night in!” Hayley smirked. 
“Okay, so what if I do. He’s not into me like that. He’s just friendly. He’s southern, it's just how he is!” I said, trying to hold onto whatever sanity I had left. 
“Really?” Skyler said. “Does he bring anyone else coffee? Ask if he can eat lunch in anyone else’s office?” Hayley but it
“Didn’t he get you a christmas gift last year?” she asked. 
“He was my secret santa!” I stated. They both sighed. 
“ I don’t know why you can’t see it but he likes you!” Skyler said. I started to  object but Hayley cut me off. 
“You don’t have to believe us. Just pay attention to how he acts around you tomorrow and the next couple of days. He's trying to make a move. And I know you have your little no coworkers rule,”
“Because if…”
“Ah, I don’t wanna hear it! He’s clearly trying to get your attention. And you work in a public high school it's not like everyone else isn’t hooking up.” She stated. 
“She’s got a point, remember all the teachers when we were in school? And he’s not just trying to hook up. He’s playing the long game,” Skyler said. “All we’re saying is IF we’re right,”
“And we are,” Hayley added. Skyler gave her side eye but laughed. 
“If he asks you out you should give him a chance. We’ve never met him but it’s clear he’s so into you. And he seems like a great guy. Don’t push him away because something COULD go wrong.” she said. At that point the waiter came up and we placed our order. I also ordered another glass of wine. But a wine buzz wasn’t enough to convince me they were right. Sy couldn’t like me. I wasn’t his type. But it didn’t matter. I will go tomorrow and have a good time watching the game and cheering on the boys and watching Sy in his element. And when it’s all said and done I’ll ride home with the student section and maybe catch the chance to say goodbye to my friend before we leave. And on Monday everything will be as it always has been. Sy and I are friends. 
I repeat that to myself as I walk the hall toward the gym after school on Friday. I turned down the hall toward the locker rooms and found his office door open. Sy was leaning back in his desk chair watching the tape from a few weeks ago. He noticed me before I spoke. He paused the video and smiled. 
“Hey you! To what do I owe the honor? You never venture down this way?”
“Just coming to double check the plan for tonight! We’re meeting back here at 5:15 and the bus leaves at 5:45?” I asked him. He nodded, running a hand over his beard. 
“Yeah, but I was thinking, you got plans for dinner?” He asked and raised an eyebrow. 
“Uh I was just gonna run home for dinner, why do you ask?” I leaned against the doorway and crossed my arms over my chest. I watched curiously as he chewed at his bottom lip for a moment. 
“I was gonna grab a bite to eat in town before the game. I won’t have time to go all the way home. Do you wanna come with me?” He finally made eye contact with me again and gave me a soft smile. 
“Oh um,” I hesitated for a second. 
“I’ll buy,” He smirked. I rolled my eyes. 
“You don’t have to do that, Sy,” I said softly. He stood up grabbing his keys off the desk. 
“I know, I want to.” He smiled and brushed his shoulder against mine as he walked out the door. “Come on, I’ll drive.” I raised an eyebrow 
“Driving me to dinner and you’re paying? Sy if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were flirting with me.” the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk and he stopped walking. He turned toward me and bit his lip trying to hold back a grin. 
“Alayna,” He chuckled nervously, “I find it hard to believe after all this time…” He was cut off by a loud whistle down the hallway. 
“Well ain’t that a cute couple!” a voice said in a horrible mock southern accent “Get it coach!” One of Sy’s boys called from just outside the weight room. Another one of the football players popped his head out the door to see what was going on and started making kissy sounds with his lips. Sy dropped his chin to his chest and shook his head but his shoulders shook when he chuckled, giving him away. He loved those boys he couldn’t be mad if he wanted to be. 
“Tyler you’re already on thin ice don’t make me bench you tonight! You too Matt. Don’t think I forgot about the little stunt you pulled in the parking lot last week!” He gave them a stern look
“Sorry coach!” they said in unison 
“It was funny though,” Matt mumbled. Sy shook his head
“Sure, You boys get out of here and get something to eat, I don’t need you passing out on me on the field tonight.” He held Matt’s gaze. 
“It was one time!” He stressed. 
“And it’s only gonna be one if I can help it. Go eat!” He barked. The boys immediately straightened up and nodded. 
“Yes coach!” Logan just chuckled and we kept walking. 
“They adore you,” I said. He smiled 
“Nah, they just know I’m not kidding’” I laughed. 
“Oh come on Sy, you aren’t that mean, or you wouldn’t care so much,” We walked out the back door to the teacher parking lot and headed to his truck. “Hey… what were you saying earlier,” He raised an eyebrow. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about sugar,” He smirked. 
“Sure you don’t cowboy,” I rolled my eyes and hopped up into the truck after he unlocked it.  He slid in next to me and started the engine. 
“Where do you wanna eat?” He looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. I shrugged. 
“Doesn’t matter to me, you’re buying,” I said flatly. 
“Sugar,” He threw his arm over the back of the seat, his fingertips brushing my shoulder, as he backed out of the parking spot. He left it there as he pulled out on the road. “Don’t be shy with me, I know you love food darlin.  I’ll drive all around town and we’ll starve until you tell me what you want.” I looked over at him just in time to make eye contact before his eyes shifted back toward the road. He shook his head and tried to hide his smirk. 
“You are so dramatic,” I teased, trying to play it cool but I could feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. 
“Oh, I’m dramatic? Weren’t you the one tearing up in her office because of a book you were readin?” He snickered. I reached over and playfully smacked him in the chest. 
“Shut up!” I laughed. He held his hand to his chest feigning hurt. 
“Ow!” He pouted. 
“That did not hurt! I barely hit you!” he side eyed me still pouting but the corners of his mouth started to break into a smile
“Over here committing spousal abuse.” He shook his head. I laughed so hard I snorted. 
“We’re not married Sy!” 
“You’re my work wife, it's the same damn thing” He chuckled. “Seriously, where do you wanna eat, I’m starving.” 
“My god Logan,” I laughed. “Um fine, I haven’t tried that new sushi and ramen place yet!” I said. He almost slammed on the break. 
“You haven’t?! That place is right up your alley, all trendy and shit. It’s real good too!” 
“You think I’m trendy?” I raised an eyebrow. He looked over for a moment and caught my eye giving me a gentle smile. 
“I think you deserve to be taken out to nice places.” And here I was blushing again. 
“Sy,” I started but my phone buzzed in my lap distracting me, I wasn’t really sure what to say anyway. It was a group chat with the girls asking me what time we leave tonight. They were going to have a field day with this. And instead of just replying I decided to start a fire. I tapped my screen to open my camera and held it up to take a selfie “Smile, cowboy.” He chuckled. 
“What are you doin over there, sugar?” He smirked but glanced over at the camera quickly so I could snap a quick photo. 
“Lighting a match.” I smirked. He bit his lip and chuckled softly. 
“You’re something else,” He spoke as we pulled into the restaurant. I quickly sent the picture to the group chat and slid my phone into my purse.
Sy was right. This place was incredible. And very trendy. 
“God I can’t get over how good this place is!” I said for like the 4th time. Logan smiled. 
“I told ya, Darlin,” The waitress came and brought out our bill and I reached for my purse. “Hey, No, I told you, I’m paying.” He said pulling out his wallet and handing his card to the waitress. 
“Thank you Sy, I appreciate it,” He grinned.
“Anytime, you deserve it,” I blushed, “ you’re really saving my ass tonight.” I forced a smile, so that’s what this is about. I told the girls this was all just because he needed something. 
“It’s no big deal Logan.” I said. I pulled my phone out and checked my messages. There were like 10 from the group chat now. 
“OMG YOU'RE WITH HIM?!”
“You didn’t tell us you were getting dinner with him.”
“UNLESS THEIR NOT GETTING DINNER ;)”
“What else would they be….oh”
“Alayna you better not be fucking the football coach right now.”
“Leave her alone Hayley she can fuck him if she wants to BUT IF YOU DO I WANT DETAILS”
“ALAYNAAAAA”
“GIRLLLL ANSWER USSSSS”
“Seriously dude you can’t just send us a picture of you with your hunky football coach man crush and just disappear.”
“OMG THEY’RE TOTALLY FUCKING”
I held back a smile and shook my head. 
“It is a big deal,” He said and grabbed my hand across the table. “I’m glad you’re gonna be there tonight.” I smiled but pulled my hand back. 
“Sure, because you needed another chaperone.” I joked. His eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head catching my eye. 
“Yeah, but I wanted it to be you, I like hangin out with you. And you’re really fun to watch in the stands. I didn’t know you could be so…aggressive.” He smirked. 
“I’m just really passionate about football!” I argued. “And how do you know you like hanging out with me? We've barely seen each other outside of work.” I questioned. 
“Well we should change that,” he said.
“Won’t your girlfriend get jealous?” I asked. I knew a lot about him but he never mentioned any relationship. I’d be stupid to think he wasn’t seeing someone. He laughed. God I loved that sound. 
“Don’t have one sugar,” He said with a mischievous grin on his face. 
“How?” It was my turn to be confused. 
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” He retorted quickly. 
“I … because…” I stuttered, unable to come up with an answer.
“Haven’t found the right guy yet huh?” He pauses, “guess that’s where I’m at, she just ain’t found me yet.” He smiled. Right then the waitress came back with his card. “Thanks honey,” He said, giving her his signature smile. He signed the receipt and stood from the table. “We oughta get going. Don’t wanna be late for the game!” 
Sy drove us back to the school and parked his truck next to my car. “Oh no!” I sighed. 
“What's wrong?” He asked. 
“I was going to grab a sweatshirt when I went home and,” I opened my car, turning on the light to look in  the back seat. “I don’t have an extra in my car.” I pouted. 
“Is that all?” He chuckled. He reached into the back seat of his truck and pulled out a black hoodie. “Here. I always have an extra in the truck you can wear mine. Don’t want you to catch a cold.” I took it from him tentatively. 
“Sy, this is your coach sweatshirt.” I said. 
“One of ‘em yeah.” He smiled. 
“I…okay,” I just shook my head and pulled the hoodie on. He bit his lip. 
“Looks good on ya,” He smirked. 
“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes. Before we could continue to tease each other the buses pulled up. And I could see some of the students' cars pulling into the student lot “We’d better head over there!” I said quickly. Logan nodded. 
“Yeah, we better get going.”
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sagephilosophie · 1 month
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⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
┃ RINDOU H.
ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ! ʀɪɴᴅᴏᴜ ʜᴀɪᴛᴀɴɪ x ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ ᴀᴅᴍɪʀᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ
𖧧 Tags : SFW, high school theme.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
ϟ Crush!Rindou whom you took a liking on ever since he started going to your high school with his brother after their time in juvie, they earned immediate popularity then and gossips spread like wildfire how their rich father bribed the principal to enroll them.
ϟ Crush!Rindou that couldn't care less about the whispering in the classroom going over his gang life and recent fights, your friends were warning you not to go near him because of his sadistic nature, but observing him doodling something boredly in his copybook made you think,"He is pretty cute though..."
ϟ Crush!Rindou that joined the school's football team on the first try and kept skipping classes frequently, so you eventually began showing up at every practice and game to watch him play.
ϟ Crush!Rindou who was the indirect reason the entire football team teased you after every match for not missing a day, one of them being a classmate that started a rumour how you liked him instead, but you brushed all of them off saying you just like the sport.
ϟ Crush!Rindou who ignored you the whole time, all he did was take any water bottle or towel you handed to him, and didn't even answer your compliments or small talk about the game, unlike his brother who sits in the stands with you from time to time, and immediately catched on to the hearteyes you were giving his brother, although, with the no-change in Rindou's behaviour, the former likely didn't tell him.
ϟ Crush!Rindou that kept testing your patience with his indifference, after everyone you know has noticed you had a crush on him except Rindou himself, so you stopped showing up at the football pitch since it's useless at this point.
ϟ Crush!Rindou whom you managed to get your head off of for the rest of your highschool years, only until the final week before graduation, when it occurred to you that this is perfect time to visit the stands one more time.
ϟ Crush!Rindou that was the only one in the field by the time you got there, doing some tricks, and as expected didn't acknowledge your existence, until he heard clapping after his football juggling.
ϟ Crush!Rindou that spoke to you for the first time since his arrival and asked if you wanted to try, you said yes and joined him, but the ball couldn't balance and he was starting to mock you.
"One would think you learned something from the time you spent watching me."
"I wasn't watching you."
"Oh yeah ? Why do you only look for me when the whole team surrounds you then ?"
"...you noticed ?"
"It's hard not to, besides, Ran told me."
"Huh... Then you were giving me the cold-shoulder on purpose ?"
"Mhmm answer this, what are your plans after highschool ?"
"Go to college, pursue a career..."
"Well, i saved you time i could've wasted, all i plan to do is rule Roppongi streets with my brother, you could guess how i'll be a terrible partner."
"I didn't necessarily want you to be my partner... maybe you're taking this the wrong way, with your athletic skills and talent there's a better future than you think still hiding, i would know that, i've been observing you..."
"Yeah, stalker."
"I'm serious! There's at least one thing you want to do later on..."
"I think probably, own a night club."
"See ? You do have a goal, then what was that about distancing yourself again ?"
"You're still gonna regret getting close to me."
"We don't know that for sure."
"There's only one way to find out, what will you be doing after graduation day ?"
"Nothing, you ?"
"Also nothing, should we go do nothing together?"
"Good idea."
ϟ Crush!Rindou whom you managed to talk him into finishing his education and has finally became your ever loving boyfriend throughout college.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
@sagephilosophie
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pxuvalentinx · 1 month
Note
Woah like imagine talking about having a family with teen kento ‼️ requesting anything on this plsplspls
a/n: i actually kinda really like this idea waowww !! i've been so slow with requests lately :') i'll get to them soon pinky promise. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST THOUGH !!! tags/warnings: obv teen pregnancy, slight angst, fluff, nanami is a sweetheart, established relationship (lmk if i forgot anything)
Teen Dad! Nanami, who at first wasn't too sure about this. He always tried to be safe with you, but I guess accidents happen. Nanami honestly thought it was a silly prank of yours at first, but when you showed him a picture of the positive pregnancy test, he lost his composure for a second.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who told you that he needed some time to think about it and really realize what's happening. Once the shock was over, he came running to you, telling you that he'd be more than happy to support you and be with you regardless of the situation. Telling you that he'll support both you and your kid to the best of his abilities.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who now would take on more missions to make some extra money to be able to support you through everything and also save up for the future. Since his plan was now to put a ring on your finger someday.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who often came home exhausted, pissed off that he had to work overtime and also that he had less time to spend with you. Regardless of that, he always made sure to get you whatever you craved, to massage you whenever your back hurt too much, and to help with chores around the house. Nanami would also take notes for both of you in class; education is important after all.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who tried to keep as calm as possible when your water broke (he was panicking on the inside). He read somewhere that panicking will only make the pregnant woman panic too. So he kept calm, calling an ambulance as he held you close, grabbing the little hospital bag you two packed together (he also read about that).
Teen Dad! Nanami, who tries his best to even support you during birth, holding your hand. Sadly, he couldn't really bring himself to watch it happen, only ever glancing over. Nanami hoped it was enough for you.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who becomes the best dad ever regardless of how young he is. He'd start taking on a bunch of chores and duties, just to let you rest.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who calls Shoko every day just to ask silly questions that should've been obvious. Shoko answers every question anyway, wanting to support you and him. Nanami always wrote everything down.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who supported your spending addiction when it came to buying toys and outfits for your little one. In the end, he couldn't deny just how adorable it looked in all of those outfits you buy.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who started looking for other jobs he could do after he graduated from high school. He knew he wouldn't be able to do Jujutsu sorcery forever.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who your little one always throws up on. It's like, as soon as he holds your little one, it just gets the urge to throw up. Gojo definitely makes fun of him for that (until he holds the little one and it also throws up on him, earning a teasing smile from Nanami).
Teen Dad! Nanami, who loves you just as much as before, not caring about any of the changes the baby or being pregnant made to your body. If you're insecure about it, he'll reassure you a lot.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who spoils you and your child as soon as he gets the chance to. When your baby grows up, he won't be able to say no to anything they ask for.
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qyxzun · 2 months
Text
🕸️┆𝕻𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄.
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╰┈➤ ❝𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐘𝐘𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐓'𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, my name is Y/N L/N. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for about two years, I've been the one and only spider woman. I'm pretty sure you know the rest.
Been fighting other bad guys, helping cats off trees, saving plains from crashing into buildings, you know—the basics.
I lost my best friends when I realized one of them was my nemesis.
but that didn't stop me from fighting for the better!
I just wish I wasn't alone. What if there was another universe where someone understood me?
whatever, probably just my imagination.❞
𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝟗𝟐𝟔-𝐙, there was you, sleeping in bed so peacefully before your loud blaring alarm on your phone started to ring for the fifth time. You groaned when the sound disrupted your sleep before you finally picked up your phone to check what time it was. your eyes completely widened. You were late for school.
"Shit!" you cursed, pushing yourself off the bed and running to the bathroom to take the quickest bath you could. Taking off your clothes, dosing yourself with the shower's water, and quickly soaping up your entire body. As quickly as you entered, you almost tripped, going out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your soaked body. You ran back to your room, sloppily but quickly putting on your Brooklyn Visions Academy uniform. You still think that school is elitist, but you can't complain for now.
With no time to spare other than lacing up your shoes and taking your unzipped bag, you ran out of your dorm, forgetting to lock the door. You started to quickly jog your way to the school with your bag slung in front of you in an attempt to zip it closed with your papers and work securely inside. Traffic was booming like crazy, which made you groan impatiently. "My luck should really not be affecting my school," you grumbled.
The light finally turned red, letting pedestrians pass. You pushed past multiple people, apologizing when you ran through them as you continued to sprint to the school's entrance. When you finally stepped inside the school, you ran to your locker, put your bag and stuff away, and sprinted so fast to your class before the bell could ring. You arrived just in time, holding your textbooks by the door while a bead of sweat ran down your neck.
You panted, out of breath from running the entire morning, while your professor looked at you, unimpressed that you were late for how many times?
"Tardy again, Y/N. Keep up if you want to pass this year." She said, obviously hinting that you were someone who didn't care about education. Rude.
You nervously walked to your seat with your heavy books in hand while your classmates watched you sit down. Your professor passed by and gave you multiple papers stapled together as your exam. You skimmed through it, and the questions were almost a big blur for you when you saw how hard you should've studied instead of fighting other criminals on a daily basis. You held your mechanical pencil tight, wondering what to write while your other classmates were all silent and focused on the exams, unlike you, who had no idea. You wrote down what you knew, but you still felt anxious. You really didn't want to fail this exam; it could be your last before you would have to move to another school. You liked that option, but your parents worked too hard, climbing the ranks so you could have an easier life once you passed your exams. Since when was life decided by a piece of paper?
Minutes into the exam, suddenly, you heard a loud explosion near the back of your school. It was muffled through the thick walls, yet it was obvious something dangerous had happened. Your spider senses tingled, and you lifted your head abruptly while your class looked around, wondering what that could be while the teacher noticed their confused and worried expressions.
"Everyone calm down! Form a line and carefully leave the school through the front," your professor ordered, yet most students had already started running out of the classroom, ignoring her orders.
You quickly ran out too, pushing past the rest of the students while you navigated back to your locker. You grabbed your bag from inside and forgot to close it, prioritizing the situation at hand as you went to the bathroom.
"Guess I have to do my job again," you sighed while you quickly locked the toilet stall. You opened your bag, your spider suit folded neatly and tucked between your other textbooks inside. You took off your uniform, changing into the tight spider suit swiftly. You made sure to keep your mask securely on; protecting your identity was the most important part of it.
Finally dressed for battle and your bag slung on your back, you climbed out through the restroom's window, flicking multiple webs out of your fingertips. They swiftly stuck to one of the school's large pillars, and they allowed you to swing away quickly. You swung from building to building easily, reaching the back of the school to see seven vehicles crash together, causing a fire to spread throughout the school's background. Multiple police cars and ambulances were parked nearby, with the paramedics taking as many victims as they could on stretchers and transporting them to the ambulance crew.
You saw many policemen trying to save the injured under the rubble and from the fire as well. You knew they could get in the way of your job, so you created a diversion. You shot a web inside the policeman's car, the sticky string immediately reaching and pressing on the accelerator as it slowly moved forward, catching their attention.
"Woah—woah, woah—hey!!" one of them hollered, trying to reach the advancing car alongside his other colleagues. It gave you enough time to reach the exploded area with your webs.
"This is a whole mess," you mumbled to yourself under your mask as you reached another building's wall. You quickly climbed higher and swiftly shot individual webbing from your fingertips, each web reaching pieces of heavy debris on top of the injured. You held and wrapped all five webs around your palm, pulling the rubble off of the victims with your bare hand as your webs carried them to the side.
The concerned police officers ran to the injured with paramedics, yet the fire persisted, causing another explosion near the colliding cars. You were thinking of a plan to somehow save all of these people while you internally grew more anxious.
"What the hell is causing these explosions?" You grunted, frustrated. You loathed seeing people get injured while you tried to think of something. You jumped from the high wall, plunging down as you shot webs toward the heavily injured near the fire. You pulled them close, carrying more than three people while their blood smeared on your spider suit.
You quickly rested their bodies near where the ambulances could see them before you swung back to the high roof of the building. Your spider senses suddenly tingled before you turned around. On the building's edge, you saw the villain behind it all.
"Who the hell is this guy?" You said, looking down to the edge, and saw a lizard... or a goblin? You didn't know. You shot webs once more in its direction, propelling yourself up before you landed a harsh kick in its face. It let out a loud grunt as saliva was knocked out of his mouth. You sent him flying to another building's wall before he collapsed on the ground.
You walked over to it cautiously, a foot on his chest as you stepped on it harder. You glared down at him, looking down at a vile creature who hurt your people. It coughed, its vision blurry before it looked up to you, it started chuckling with your foot on his scales. "We meet again Peter," it said, smirking.
"Who the hell is Peter?" You retorted, raising an eyebrow behind your mask while it looked at you as if you were playing with his head.
"Oh, don't lie now, Peter... I know all about—" The vile lizard was about to continue, but it was cut off when it saw your features more clearly. You had more of a feminine body. Your muscles weren't as built, but you were strong enough to consider its enemy, like Peter. You had bigger hips and smaller shoulders than a man. Not to mention the obvious, your suit wasn't one it recognized. Its expression turned from smug to confused. You weren't the Peter it knew.
With rage blinding its confusion, it growled and grabbed your ankle with its large clawed hand, pulling your foot off its chest as it caused you to almost lose balance.
"Who are you?" It glared, looking at you with disdain and anger. You, on the other hand, were confused about why it didn't know you when you were literally the spider-woman.
"I'm spider-woman? The hero?" You rhetorically responded before it sneered and tossed you to the side of the building. You reacted quickly as you shot webs at its face, blinding it and pulling on the webs before you could hit the wall with its heavy weight. You adroitly landed on the floor again.
"Okay, dude—that's not nice," you pout under your mask while it growled in frustration when your webs blinded its field of vision. The creature almost tore off its eyes, in an attempt to take the sticky web off its face while it bled. The oversized lizard was raging mad before it charged toward you at full speed. You were about to swing burning wreckage to its face with your webs before a sudden brightness appeared from above.
You both looked up in confusion before you suddenly saw a red web hastily tie your green rival into scarlet webbing. It came out of what seemed to be a bright light formed with hexagons while it glitched. You haven't seen anything like it, thinking it could be another threat. "Argh!!!" The creature thundered before you saw what seemed to be another spider-man go through the portal. He promptly punched the lizard's head, blood coming out of its mouth, before it crashed into another building's wall.
The mysterious man stood up once he apprehended the green goblin with his webs. He tied it with his webs effortlessly while you approached him, his head slightly turning to look at you.
"So, like, who are you?" You asked, putting a hand on your hip before he turned around to fully face you.
"Classified," He spoke with a low tone, keeping it short and cold. You hummed, thinking of who he could be.
"You Peter? That green, uh, creature was looking after Peter or something. I don't know," you shrugged while the man was still silent, like he was judging you secretly with that glare.
You cleared your throat, a bit uncomfortable that he wasn't responding to your question. "Well, anyway, gotta deal with the fire and stuff. Gotta go blue panther." You were about to walk to the fire, mostly to save more victims before he stepped in front of you.
"It's alright, kid. I'll take it from here." He responded, his tone still cold, while his hand was slightly raised, telling you to stand down. Your spider senses tingled after he said that. You looked up behind him as you saw the green goblin manage to escape his webbing and cause more havoc behind the tall, muscular spider-man. In a fit of rage, the creature threw a burning truck in your direction.
"Oh, shit—look out!" You yelled, shooting a web at the spider-man's chest before pulling him away from the landing truck. You quickly moved away as well, but suddenly hissed in pain and fell near the fire. You groaned when you saw your burned forearm and noticed that your spider-suit was covered in cinders after smelling something burning.
"Puta madre--!" the spider-man growled before claws started to grow out of his hands. With animalistic ferocity, he chased after the goblin, shooting a web on his way to get to him faster. His speed never slowed down as his legs ran faster and faster, almost like a car on a highway.
Meanwhile, you winced when you pushed yourself up before your senses started to go haywire again. You turned around and saw more people in the burning debris while firefighters arrived and started to put out the flames. You hastily followed the spider-man from before by crawling up on top of a very tall building. Your eyes quickly scanned the area, searching for him. You spotted the lizard causing more trouble as it climbed up the building in front of you. His claws dug into the wall, causing more debris to fall, almost hitting more pedestrians. The other spider-man turned his head around, watching as the debris started to rain down on the citizens. He was so conflicted; he was so close to catching the goblin, yet the civilians were in danger.
"Fuck!" The man cursed, shooting a web to catch the debris, yet he failed. He grunted, turning his attention back to his target. He continued to chase the green goblin. You, on the other hand, thought fast and jumped down while shooting multiple webs to make a gigantic spider web to catch all the falling debris. Your webbing was strong enough to carry the heavy rubble and the burning damage before it could hit the others. Once you were sure it was holding everything in place, you shot another web, swinging yourself to the injured, who couldn't move. You picked them up— two on your back and one in your arms. They were barely alive when you gently laid them down somewhere more safe.
Your head lifted when you heard a cry. "M-Mama! Please! Help!!" A child screamed while you put all the victims away near the policemen. You turned your head back, realizing one of them was still stuck in the fire. You didn't hesitate to run back, propelling yourself into the air to see where the kid could be. You then saw her crawling up into a ball, a toy in her arms, while she looked around with tears in her eyes, afraid of the fire. She coughed profusely, almost running out of oxygen, while tears prickled her eyes. Even with the burnt forearm, you quickly and nimbly landed in front of her, picking her up easily while she didn't know what was happening. Yet she held onto you tighter than her toy. You shot another web at a building, pulling the two of you up before swinging away to where it was safe.
When you slowly descended to the ground with the child hugging your neck tightly, you saw a weeping woman on the ground with multiple injuries. Your eyes softened, worried behind your mask. You looked back at the kid, noticing she looked like she could be her child. You approached her. "Ma'am," you called out to her, getting her attention before you put down the kid in front of her. She gasped and brought her into her arms, pulling her into a very tight hug while they both wept.
"Thank you," the woman whimpered before looking up at your masked face. "Thank you for saving all of us." She smiled while sobbing, looking around at the people you saved. Even though they were injured, you managed to save all of them. You nodded your head, smiling behind your mask as you flashed her a thumbs-up.
You heard a thump behind you, hinting that the tall spider-man was behind you before you turned around to see him holding the green lizard with his red webs. "Hey," you said, looking up to him. "Caught the lizard?" As you chuckled, you noticed that he still had that unfazed look on his face. It seemed like he was trying to put up a brave front in front of the crowd. After a brief pause, he cleared his throat before responding.
"Follow me," he ordered with a reserved tone as he shot a web and pulled himself up to a very tall skyscraper. You followed behind him, the wind blowing into your face before you landed gracefully on top of the skyscraper.
There, you saw him tap on something on his wrist before another portal opened, the same bright orange hexagons forming the strange entrance while they rotated slowly. Your eyes squinted from how bright it was, while he still had the same expression as before. He got ready to throw the lizard into the portal, while it struggled and squirmed under his tight webs. "This is not the last time you'll see me, Peter!" It yelled, glaring daggers at you and the tall spider-man, until he was thrown into the portal. It created a short blast before the portal returned to normal.
You were quiet for a bit, not knowing what to say. He then turned around to face you, the portal closing very slowly while he approached you. "I'm from another dimension," he admitted while you gasped dramatically, knowing the obvious.
"You are.?! Woahhhhh.." Your eyes were wide behind your mask. He glared at your sarcasm, crossing his arms as it showed his muscles behind the tight suit.
"Take this seriously, chiquilla," he monotonously replied before clearing his throat and looking away. There was a small pause before he spoke. "You showed great abilities when you saved all those people." As soon as you received the compliment, his eyes shifted back to you while yours lit up with joy. It felt like you were a kid again, basking in the glory of a teacher's praise for acing a test.
He didn't say anything else. He looked down at his hand and slowly formed a fist. You watched him, wondering what he'd be doing. You tilted your head to the side, trying to see what was in his palm when it slowly opened. After a few more moments, he opened his fist.
"A watch?" You looked confusedly before he tossed it to you; you easily caught it, observing it. "What the hell is this for?" You asked, looking back at him. You finally noticed that it was the same watch he had on his wrist.
"You'll feel more at home," he responded stoically. He took the watch and helped you put it on properly. "... and we can use the help," he said.
"Who's we?" You asked, bewildered, becoming more baffled than ever. You'll feel more at home, he said. What did that even mean? You took off your mask, getting a clearer view of him, as you had a concerned face. "Who even are you?" You replied like you were annoyed for not knowing the entire truth.
His mask slowly distorted into pixels as it showed his face. "Miguel O'hara." He simply responded, looking down at you with his intimidating, tired brown eyes. He then slowly turned around, walking to the portal that hadn't been closed yet. You watched him enter the bright hexagons before you watched him disappear in front of your eyes.
You gripped the watch tightly.
𝕾𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄.
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