#I can't believe my teacher approved this

[greengoblinswifey]

My Pretty Girl

Eddie Munson x Fem!Cheerleader!Reader

Summary: (Spoiler free) Eddie's horny and he needs you, even if it means taking you in a random classroom.

Warnings: Smut, praise kink, classroom sex, fingering, oral sex(f receiving), pet names, creampie, spit as lubrication.

A/N: not my gif and requests are open!

Eddie was the absolute love of your life, something no one expected. You were the pretty, popular cheerleader dating the weird cult leader of the Hellfire club. It was a bit cliche to you, maybe not? Everyone expected you to be with someone like Jason but he was a bit of a dick. Eddie was sweet, funny, passionate about his club and he loved you--and weed. 

"Hey baby," he greeted, closing your locker. You hadn't seen him all morning. You smiled brightly and he tilted your chin up to kiss him. You cupped his cheek and melted into the kiss but pulled away when Dustin shuddered. 

"Please don't eat each other's faces off in the hallway," Dustin said. 

You playfully stuck out your tongue at him and waved goodbye as he left. 

"Love that shirt on you," Eddie smirked, referring to the Hellfire Club shirt over your cheerleading top. Despite not officially being in the club you'd wear Eddie's shirt or the one you owned around school earning stares and whispers. Let's just say the school didn't quite approve of your relationship with the 'freak' but no one ever said it for you to actually hear. Even if they did, he was the one you wanted, you didn't care about what they thought.

"Why thank you kind sir," you giggled.

He wrapped his arms around you and you laid your head on his chest, inhaling his scent that brought you comfort. 

"Are you high?" you chuckled, knowing the answer.

"That and I'm also horny." You couldn't deny that being so close to him made you horny, even if you were at school. 

"Well, we can't do anything about that right now can we Ed?" you shrugged and turned to walk away. He did exactly what you wanted him to do. His rough hand gripped your wrist and pulled you flush against his chest.

"You and me both know we can," he said, leaning down into you ear, sending shivers throughout your body. God, how did you get so lucky.

He lifted you up, catching you by surprise and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was passionate--hungry, and he walked with you, breaking it periodically so he could look around and open the door of an empty classroom. He laid you on the teacher's desk and locked the door behind him. Thankfully, you were on lunch break and the halls and classrooms were empty so he could have you without being interrupted.

His soft lips attacked yours again before he moved down to your neck, nipping and sucking. You let out breathy moans when he reached the sweet spot on your neck. You'd probably have to borrow some concealer from Chrissy to cover up the mark he would surely leave.

"I have the most beautiful girlfriend in all of Hawkins," Eddie beamed. He wasn't just saying it to make you feel good, he truly believed it. He never imagined you would give him the light of day a year ago when he asked you out but to his and everyone else's shock, you agreed to the date and you had been inseparable since.

"And I have the most handsome boyfriend in all of Hawkins." He didn't bother pulling your tops from your body, only riding them and your bra up so he could place his hands on your breasts. 

"Eddie," you moaned when he pinched your nipples. He swore his cock throbbed in his pants when you moaned his name. No matter how many times he heard it the effect was always the same.

"Need you so bad," you whined. 

"Patience princess." He spread your legs and slipped off your panties and tights. "I'll be keeping these," he winked, placing the lace black panties in his back pocket. You vividly remember there being a box of your underwear under his bed or maybe you were just high out of your mind.

"Always so wet for me. I'm in love with you," he smirked. All you could do was moan his name in response as he leaned down and licked from your sopping entrance to your clit. Pleasure coursed through your veins and your body shivered when he continuously flicked your bundle of nerves. His skilled tongue focused on your clit and he slipped a finger into your hole.

"J-just like that Ed," you moaned, your back arching off the desk. He slowly pumped his finger inside you, curling it and hitting the spot inside you that made your toes curl. The flicking of his tongue sped up, and he felt your walls clamp around his finger.

"Oh you gonna cum princess? Wanna cum for me sweetheart?" 

"Yes, please, please," you pleaded, feeling the knot in your abdomen close to snapping.

"Go ahead my pretty girl, cum for me," he said, huskily. As soon as Eddie gave you the go ahead, the coil burst and your toes curled as your orgasm washed over you. His tongue lapped up your juices and he took his finger from your pussy and brought it to your lips. You obediently took it into your mouth and sucked off your juices. 

"Taste how sweet you are?" he asked, unbuttoning his black jeans. 

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath from the after effects of your high. He pulled out his pink, veiny cock and put his hand to your lips. You spat on his hand and he used it as lubrication for his already wet cock and stroked it slowly.

"Eddie, please," you begged, needing to feel him inside you before the lunch break came to an end.

"As you wish darling." Your jaw dropped feeling him fill you to the brim. Eddie was no small man, and no matter how many times you had sex, his size and how good he felt always left you amazed.

"Fuck, you feel so good, clenching around me so well," Eddie moaned. His chocolate brown eyes rolled into the back of his head as he rolled his hips to meet yours, relishing in your wetness.

He nuzzled his nose into your neck as he fucked you, rocking the desk as he did. It was a bit romantic, really.

"Oh- oh fuck me Eddie," you whimpered, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. Your hands gripped his long, brown hair, tugging and pushing him into your neck. 

"That's exactly what I'm doing princess," he said, letting out a breathy chuckle. His hands roamed your body and found your breasts again, squeezing them and adding to your pleasure.

Hearing your soft whimpers and moans in his ear made his balls tighten and he knew he needed to cum. But not until you did.

"Oh God, yes!" Eddie!" He kissed your lips to contain your loud moans as he fucked into you rougher and faster. He was deep in your guts, exactly where he always wanted to be.

Your walls clenched around his cock as his strokes grew more powerful.

"Ed- shit, I'm gonna-" You were unable to finish your sentence before your orgasm ripped through you like a sharp knife and you chanted his name over and over like a prayer.

"That's my good girl, my pretty girl, my perfect little cheerleader," he praised. He continued fucking you through your high, holding your hips tightly so you wouldn't topple over.

"You feel so good baby, just gotta cum inside you," he moaned. You didn't answer, just the thought of Eddie releasing inside you, was enough to make you moan.

Feeling you clench around him even tighter, indicated you wanted it as much as he did. 

"That's it. Fuck. Take my cum, take all of it like the perfect girl you are," he growled. His warm release spurted inside you, filling you to the brim. Your pussy milked him of all he had and he allowed his cock to soften inside you before he pulled out.

"Good girl, my good girl," he said, pecking your lips. 

You played with his long hair as he fixed your shirt and your bra. As expected, you didn't get your underwear back, all you could do was pull up your tights under your short skirt and pray no one would see the large wet patch in the middle.

#stranger things #stranger things season four #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader smut #stranger things fluff #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn #dustin henderson #chrissy stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things vol 1 #steve harrington #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

[grnherbs]

eighteen plus only, mdni !! cw for corruption kink, virginity kink, abuse of power, teacher/student (both over eighteen!), size kink, innocence kink, cumplay.

professor!wesker who can't get enough of you, the way you tap your pen against your lip as you seek out his approval on your essays and dissertations, shyly and sweetly, gentle, begging for praise and worship.

professor!wesker who craves how soft your skin looks, brushing up against you slyly whilst he helps you with any note taking questions you may have, close enough to feel his breath on your skin, skimming the apex of your neck, goosebumps lining it.

professor!wesker who smirks when you stutter over sentences, asking if you can stay behind and if he can proof read your assignments, virginity seeping from you.

professor!wesker who leads you in by the small of your back, strong hand planted, pinky drifting towards the cheek of your ass before pulling away and adjusting the seat for you to sit, eyeing you up as you practically beg to be ruined snd tainted.

professor!wesker who notices your heart rate pick up as you cross your legs tightly when he speaks to you, doe eyes searching out his as he licks his lips.

professor!wesker finding some bravery as he pulls you into his lap, spreading your legs with his own, running his muscled arms and hands up and down your exposed thighs beneath your skirt.

professor!wesker who bucks up and forces you over his desk, small beneath his large frame, skirt splayed over your back along with his hand pushing you down as he ruts his hard on into your plush ass cheeks.

professor!wesker who pulls your smooth lace panties to the side, gathering the slick wetness that lies there, berating you for being "such a dirty slut" and pulls his own trousers to his ankles, pushing the tip into you with a sharp thrust "so small and pretty, surprised if my cock doesn't shred you open, darling"

professor!wesker who fucks you better than anyone else ever could, thick length reaching every spot in a way your fingers certainly never could, the overwhelming sound of his cock jutting against your wet cunt filling the office space, along with the creak of his wooden desk beneath you.

professor!wesker who begs to "fill you up nice and warm full of" his cum. watching it leak out of you once he pulls out, using his fingers to fuck it back into you as you cum clenching around thick, long digits.

professor!wesker who chucks a towel at you, demanding you "clean yourself up" harshly, but kisses you all the same, a sweet spot for his favourite student, "i can't believe you let me corrupt your sweet cunt"

#herbs thoughts #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker imagine #albert wesker smut #resident evil albert wesker #albert wesker blurb #albert wesker dbd #albert wesker headcanons #albert wesker resident evil #resident evil #resident evil imagines #resident evil smut #herbs simps for wesker xoxo

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Fake Love Part 1/8

I think this is my best work yet. Y'all don't know what you're in for 😝

Reader is a kindergarten teacher. Nothing more nothing less. But following an accident whistle vacationing in Dubai, she somehow makes her boyfriend believe that she does somthing else for a living, something that earns her way more money than she has. Her boyfriend, Ruben, is just happy to have found someone who understands him so well, someone who doesn't want him for his money since money isn't an issue for neither reader or himself. Or so thinks. Would finding out the truth ruin their newfound relationship? Readers thinks so, and does everything to keep up the lie, although it has some bad people from the Middle East looking for her.

Enjoy!

It all began with a tragic accident. If saving a child from a fire counts as something tragic. No. The tragic part is that it happned on your first week of vacation. First week out of six, meaning you'd spend the rest of that time caring for the burn wound on your thigh. The accident happned in Dubai at the resort that you were staying. The hotel had ended a night with a magnificent firework show for all guests to partake in. However, one malfunctioning rocket sparked flames into the crowd capturing one family in their private tent. Everyone managed to escape except for a young boy. Hearing his cry, you did not hesitate to sprint through the flames, no second thought of what might have happened to you. Those worries came later.

"Mashallah. Bless you woman."

It was strange, being embraced and cared for by strangers. Turns out that the boy you saved was the nephew of a very powerful business man in the Middle East. Both the resort and family thanked you by paying for the rest of your stay, as well as all of your medical bills and any other expenses whilst you were a guest in their country. It did not end there, the family insisted on paying for your flight back home to England, business class of course. And they did not mind for you to make a longer connection in another country. They would pay for your stay there too. That's where your story begins, on a connection flight to Portugal, where you met Ruben.

"Champagne?"

You were on the plane, shifting uncomfortable in your seat, when a flight attendant came down the aisle carrying a trey with two flutes of Champagne.

"Um, we didn't order that?" You said turning to your best friend Alicia. She poked her head out from behind her seat that was more of a private booth. She shrugged, looking equally as confused at the two glasses of Champagne.

The flight attendant smiled, handing each of you a glass anyway. "It's complimentary from Mr Muhammed Siddiq." She said and disappeared with the trey down the aisle.

"Fancy." Alicia said, taking a approving sip of her drink. "So whatever you want he pays for?" She asked, talking about the arrangement that had been made by the family which child you had sacrificed your skin to save.

"Seems like it." You said, although you weren't all that comfortable having a stranger pay for your expenses. Your friend however...

"Sweet." Alicia leaned back in her seat. She pressed the button that would alert another member of the cabin crew, a man this time, dressed in a well tucked suit.

"You called Miss?"

"Yes, can we have a bottle of whatever this is?" She said, raising her glass.

"Alicia." You groaned, slightly embarrassed.

"What? You know I get nervous during long flights. Might as well order a whole bottle of alcohol."

"A bottle it is." The flight attendant nodded. He turned to you. "Anything else for you Miss?"

"Um, no. Thanks."

You waited for him to leave so that you could throw a pillow across the aisle, hitting Alicia in the head.

"Ouch. What was that for?"

"Stop ordering things that we can't afford."

"Maybe WE can't afford it, but Muhammed Siddiq certainly can."

You rolled your eyes.

"Wait until we get to Portugal." She giggled. "They said they got you covered there too, no?"

"Yes, but only for two nights. Until our connection flight back to London."

"Great, enough for us to have some fun."

"Alicia."

"What? You deserve it. Six weeks of our vacation has gone down the drain because you wanted to jump into the flames and save that kid. Now look at you, barley able to sit with all that dressing underneath your skirt."

You tugged at the hemn. Even the draft creeping down your leg was painful to your burns. Alicia noticed the discomfort in your face and leaned forward, grabbing your hand. "You are a hero Y/N. So let's make the best of these two days, you deserve it, even our sponsor Mr Siddiq think so."

You huffed a laugh.

"Now, let's google the most expensive hotels in Lisbon." Alicia pulled up her laptop. You sighed, leaning back in your seat.

"What is there to do in Portugal anyway. Isn't it just ocean and sand, along with perverts in speedos?"

"I dunno." Alicia shrugged, typing away on her computer like the Reddit bully that she was. "Maybe we could book a guided tour around the city."

"I can't walk."

"Right. Rent a car it is."

She typed away, her newfound passion amusing to you. At some point your eyes began to flicker, the last couple of days, catching up to you. Suddenly something blew past your head, grasping the top of it.

"Fuck." Alicia gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

"What?" You sat up, looking where Alicia was pointing towards. "What did you do?" You hissed, since she had that guilty expression you knew too well.

"Your pillow." She whispered. "It's over there."

Alicia's aim was apparently terrible. Your pillow had eneded up in the booth next to you. Alicia must have seen you falling a sleep, wanting to hand it to you. The words hand it to you, not occurring to her.

"Should I get it?"

"I'll do it." You sighed. You needed to stretch your legs anyway.

It was a big plane, with two floors and three seating aisles. Being a passenger of the business class forced you to circle the whole second floor to get a view of the booth next to you. It was great way to obtain once privacy, but boy was the walk painful for a first time burn victim.

"Um, excuse me?"

You were in excruciating pain arriving at the booth next to yours and it did not help that the man assigned to it was chatting away with two other guys seated across and beside him.

"Um, excuse me?"

They ignored you, however you were pretty sure that they could see you standing in the middle of their aisle.

"Excuse me?" You said, raising your voice.

The man in the booth next to yours turned his head to meet your eye, but quickly diverge his gaze back to his friends.

"Oh for fuck....I'm looking for a pillow that flew this way. Have you seen it?"

"You mean this pillow?" One of the guys said, the dark skinned one. He held up the pillow in front of him, letting you have it.

"Sorry." You muttered, visibly embarrassed. "My friend can't aim."

"You mean she has perfect aim." The guys laughed, however not the guy in the booth next to yours. He looked mad, mad at you.

"Yeah?" You said unsure.

"Yeah." They nodded. "She hit my friend Ruben here with a perfect headshot."

You turned to the guy next to your booth, the one they called Ruben. "I'm so sorry." You said and really meant it. He however, continued to treat you like thin air.

"Oh come on Dias, don't leave the girl hanging now. Show her some of that Portuguese hospitality. We're not all perverts in speedos."

You flushed as the guys erupted in laughter once more. Of course they had overheard your conversation with Alicia. And of course they were portuguese. The plane was heading to Lisbon for god sakes. Who else had found your comment utterly offensive You turned your head, expecting a old man in his fifties to ambush you, throwing his purple speedos in your face.

"Nah, we're only joking. Right Ruben?"

The guys looked to their friend, who was still looking at you, well not at you, but somewhere below you.

"What happened to your leg?" He asked. Very blunt of him, you thought.

"Now Ruben, just because a girl is wearing a short skirt doesn't mean you get to be unpolite about it. Let's not fuel her impression of us portuguese. " His friends laughter drew the attention of other passengers, making you crumble with the embarrassment.

"No, I wasn't." Ruben stuttered, for the first time looking other than sure of himself. "I wasn't I swear." He reassured you.

"I know." You nodded. "I've burned myself. It was an accident. The dressing is supposed to mend the pain." You said, although the way your legs trembled told him otherwise.

"Is everything alright here?"

It was the flight attendant from earlier. The one having served you and Alicia Champagne. She had a serious expression on her face, a professional one, as if she had just received urgent complaints from other passengers about a disturbance in row sixteen.

"Um, yes everything is okay, I was just about to..." You turned around, the pillow pressed to your chest. You took a few steps down the aisle but hesitated as there was low whipsers behind.

"....You gotta do it it. Can't you see the way she's walking, she's clearly in pain."

"Come on Ruben..."

"No buts, you can sit with her friend."

You turned around, a frown on your face. "Are you guys talking about me?"

"Um, yeah." The guy called Ruben stood. You tilted your head not having realized how tall he actually was. Nor how built he was. His frame took up the whole aisle. Even the flight attendant had to tilt to the side to be visible behind him. "We were saying that the two of you should switch seats."

"Who?" You frowned. To which Ruben threw his friend a deadly glare.

"Me." His friend sighed, gathering his things to make his seat vacant for you.

"Um, what is going on?"

"You're hurt." Ruben said, not hiding the fact that he was staring at the dressing up your thigh." Our seats are better than yours. Here you can lay dow."

It was true, they did have the better seats. Although the leg room of a business class seat was not to be ungrateful for, laying down is really what you needed to elevate your leg, easing the pain.

"Please." Ruben said, gesturing towards the booth next to his. "My friend is more than happy to switch seats with you. Right Fabio?"

His friend did his best to fix a smile, showing off his bleach white teeth. "Gladly." He gritted.

"Okay." You said, not completely sure what you were agreeing to. However the flight attendant mumbled somthing about having to inform her colleagues. Nevertheless she disspeared whilst Ruben and his friends made the necessary room for you.

"No, leave the pillow." Ruben said, snapping at his friend who was still in the process of gathering his things.

"But she has a pillow." He groaned.

"Yes, and now she has two."

Ruben's friend left his seat looking displeased with life. Wait until he was introduced to Alicia, who refused to advocate for grumpy men.

"Please, have a seat." Ruben insisted once everything was cleared. The guys even made the effort to pick up after themselves, although thier mess wouldn't really effect you.

"I'm Ruben, this is Theo."

The three of you went about shaking hands as you sat back in your seat.

"Nice to meet you Ruben..." You were terrible with names, you thought he had introduced his full name. He looked at you slightly baffled, perhaps shocked that you had already forgotten what it was."

"It's Dias." He said, not leaving you hanging.

"Dias. Ruben Dias." You nodded. "Nice to meet you my name is Y/N  Y/L/N.

He smiled in a slightly amused way. Nevertheless he let you sit back and relax. The conversation having died out. Only then, back pressed to your plane seat, did you realize that you just shook hands with the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst

[woneuntonzz]

competitive academic rival!eunseok x overachiever, afab!reader

“ started with a spark,¹ now we're on fire.² ” ; (1/2)

warning/s: cussing, violent thoughts

content: songfic, enemies to lovers, academic rivals, fluff, incy-wincy bit of angst, very lovey-dovey i'm actually attached, mention of other idol names for world building !!

wc: 5.7k!!

⋆⭒°｡⋆ i feel like we've made it pretty far, now we're stargazing ☄️ ; inspired by The Neighbourhood's Stargazing 🎶

“Stupid algebra.”

Eunseok was never the type to grumble, but in this particular scenario, how could he not? 

You were getting too good at math, better than him even. You were assigned by your teacher to create two algebraic word problems by pair. You were most certainly not expecting to get paired with him.

Your school life could've been perfect if it all had remained as simple as it was, but he had to pop out of nowhere to ruin everything for you. You've been a straight A student ever since stepping foot on a school, unfortunately for you, so was he. 

A second year transfer from the pits of hell.

“Are you trying to say he's hot?”

“Ew, no. Why'd you even ask something that stupid.”

Your friend shrugs at you. “Cause hell is hot?”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” 

A stone-faced egomaniac, just as much as you were a people pleaser that strived off of sarcasm. 

If you thought he was jerk-of-the-year, he thought you're pathetic, and for that reason he paid you special attention. He saw you as this pretentious overachiever that got everyone's approval for a reason he could not understand, either way he refused to understand.

But now you had him caged, tied down, crawling in the dark because of a math problem that you created. It was humiliating for him, but even more so redeeming and amusing for you. 

“Is this a trick question? you sure you're not trying to make a fool out of me?” you scoffed at the frustration being hinted in his tone and his mouth moved fast, apparently not as fast as his brain should've been.

“Uh, yeah. I don't like wasting my time —just admit you can't solve it, geez.” the sound of his pencil hitting his desk followed right after you. “Are you mad at me?”

You looked at his face. Not an ounce of expression could be seen from it. This would be the pinnacle of your hatred, how he's just so good at hiding how annoyed he truly was that you could outsmart him, outperform him in oral recitations, that both teachers and students seemed to be so fond of you. 

You avert your gaze from him. “What an interesting story it would be, Y/n staring at me.”

Halfway from lowering your head to recheck your equations, your head would snap back at him. 

“Don't get too cocky now, the numbers and variables won't solve themselves.” you went back to your paper, expecting to hear not another breath from him.

“So you were staring?” 

You held yourself back from cursing right at his face, pulling on the ends of your skirt as you readjust your position. “No, I believe being a smartass would have granted you the ability to conclude that I simply just refuse to acknowledge your bold assumption.”

You heard him scoff. It was such an excruciating sound, like nails against a chalkboard. He wouldn't speak again for another ten minutes, and when he did, he had already snatched your notebook from you.

“Being respectful and asking isn't in your list of attributes?” you retort, but he remained unbothered, flicking through your notebook and dismissing your foreboding stare. 

You watched as his eyes scanned through your notes. 

“Hmm…” his menacing hum sent shivers down your spine. “No wonder why.” he scoffed again, throwing your notebook into your hands with forgiving force. 

He had a smug look on his face that you wanted to wipe off with such pressure that could erase his entire existence.

“You missed a step, miss know-it-all. Try harder next time.” 

Your notebook hit the top of his head, exerting all the strength you had left in you. The impact was so loud and potent that he could no longer speak —is what could've happened if you weren't so patient. You're not a child after all, so admitting to your mistakes came easier unlike then. These hostile thoughts would only arise because of how tenacious he could be. 

He was right, you missed a step and he saved your project. You would never be in the mood to be thankful, you still wished he could get one of his feet bitten off and not show up in class again. You doubt he was the same with everyone, well, sure, he kept displaying impassiveness towards everyone, but you'd prefer if he'd stay that way and not contest you in anything and everything. 

You wished your misery would end at that, but he'd go on about it everyday. It was definitely on purpose, purposely letting you answer first when both of you had your hands raised, and then answering after, giving a much more impactful stand and if it was a bad day, he'd go on to correct you one way or another and oppose your opinions. You've learned to wait for him to finish answering before you raised your own hand. He picked up on it quickly, you should've known, so he'd go all out when answering, not leaving a single detail out for anyone else, especially you.

Both of you were never certain just how much of an effect you had on each other, but it was there and very undeniably so. Your classmates could see it, your teachers were no exception —your teacher's and other school officials being the few he'd spare his enthusiasm. 

Nobody knew just how far the two of you would go, but it wouldn't take long until he'd finally pushed your buttons down in place. 

“With all due respect Ma'am, Mr. Song and I aren't even friends. I don't think it would make sense for us to copy off of each other's work.” a frown fell upon your face, bracing yourself for whatever Eunseok had to say after shaking his head.

“Ma'am, you must know by now that I would never even attempt such a thing… Miss Y/s/n however…” with slightly knitted brows, the grip of your clasped hands became tighter. “I mean, where's her fair share of well written essays anyways?”

Utter disbelief washed over you. You had a lot to say, a lot of daggers to throw at his chest. 

“Miss Y/s/n, got anything to say for yourself?” It took you about eight seconds to have enough courage to look your English teacher right in the eyes.

“I stand by what I said. I did not copy off of anyone.” 

At the end of the day, you'd walk out of the teachers' faculty room in tears. However, you'd never let anyone catch you in that state of vulnerability and you'd be out of their sight by the time you broke down.

“Y/n!” it was that stupid voice of his again, now it called for you. 

Wiping your tears away, you weakly seek for the cockiness that he'd proudly carry around you. But there was none —he had nothing on him that you could see through your watered eyes.

“Y/n, can we please talk?” the way he grabbed your wrist made your cringe, immediately pulling away before he could even get ahold of you.

“Oh, you wanna talk now? Why didn't you tell her? Why didn't you say that the essay you were holding was not yours?” you tried your best to hold your composure, but halfway into it, your voice cracked and your tears continued to flow.

“Yes, I knew it wasn't mine, but how would I know that it wasn't you who copied whoever wrote that—”

“Are you that fucking shallow? you've been making my life fucking miserable just cause I could do some things a little better than you —you had no reason to hate me —why do you hate me?”

Why did I hate you again? —he searched within the crevices of his mind, “Why wouldn't I when everyone else loves you—”

“Everyone? you know nothing, don't pretend you don't hear others spreading rumors about me.” —the thing is, he never heard them. 

He never cared about everyone else, in his world, he had only one nemesis —you, the only one he thought was worth his thoughts, and his precious time.

“I didn't copy, and whoever did that can—” you had to stop yourself from spewing out anything from your jumbled mind. “Get off my back, fuckface.”

He watched as your feet almost stumble on nothing as you rushed out of the school building. The paper he held whilst he humiliated you in front of your teacher was not his. He went back to the faculty room to ask his teacher why he was called in when the paper had no name or class number written on it at all. 

“The writing is excellent, I couldn't really think of anyone else capable of this. While Miss Y/s/n does have a lot of potential, the sudden shift of word choice and the incredible transitions between the points were flawless.” Eunseok's eyes grew a little wider.

“But it really isn't mine. I haven't submitted anything yet, I was facilitating an org program all week.” 

“Is that so?” the teacher held her chin as she hummed. “Well, we owe Miss Y/s/n an apology, don't we?”

Eunseok nods hesitantly, answering the teacher only in his mind —Only mine, my apology.

“We just have to figure out who submitted that nameless paper.” 

“I'm on it.” Eunseok had only mindlessly gotten himself into something he knew he didn't have a knack for.

While he was familiar with the faces he often saw around school, he'd never really waste his time on familiarizing himself with the attitudes, the eyes and the voices. He has friends, but they were all in his org, with the same motivations and skill level as him.

The next couple of days, he'd observe, but would fail to be inconspicuous. 

You ignored the eyes that lingered at your direction, you thought he was sick for even daring to look anywhere near you. 

He was trying to see who stuck around you, especially when you were at your most useful. 

He was lucky when three days later you were assigned to conduct a trio experiment project on microbiology. The one that seemed to be your best friend was pulled into another group, while two other girls who he'd never seen you hang around with as often would pull you to them.

“You're ours!” The pitchy exclamation from one of the girls inflicted pain to Eunseok's ears.

He fanned his apprehension away to the people who dared to approach him and slowly made his way to you, walking closely behind you as you exited the classroom after briefly greeting your groupmates. 

You could feel his lanky figure following you, but you were persistent. 

“Y/n.” his conceit would shatter when you continued to walk as if he was just a lone spirit cursed to follow you. 

When you were near the library, he swiftly got in front of you, blocking the door. You rolled your eyes at him, turning your feet around to go back, to where? —you didn't have anywhere else to be. 

“Where are you going?” His question halted your steps. 

You finally faced him, mimicking his stoicism. You didn't answer, he didn't deserve an answer. 

“There'll be one duo for the project since there's forty-two of us.” you just stood there and waited for him to speak again. A scoff almost broke out of you when you watched the movement on his throat as he gulped in search of his next words. “Be with me.”

He picked the wrong words and it shuddered your core, he saw it, looking into your eyes as he added with haste, “Be my partner for the project.”

His heart sinks, seeing your eyebrows nearly touch each other. “Did you seriously think I'd even consider it?”

You shook your head, moving towards the door behind him making him move aside warily. You were sane enough to not slam the door at him, and after all you were entering a library. Shh —at that point you had no idea if the librarian had shushed you or if it was just the voices in your head. I hate him, he's just another jerk.

All he had to say was he had already talked with the teacher, and that he's helping —or offered doing all the work himself in finding the culprit responsible for your misfortune. The affliction could've easily been avoided, he was only now starting to realize how much of an asshole he was three days ago. 

Everyone loved you —loved was in the past, people would prove to be ever-changing. 

“I'm really not surprised she plagiarized, she's such a try-hard.” it was meant to be a whisper, but Eunseok could hear it, finally.

“I know right? is it that hard to admit that Eunseok is better—”

“Shh! he's right there!” 

He'd only subtly shake his head at their lax attempts to keep quiet, it seemed as if they wanted him to hear. He felt small under their disparaging mouths. They were all way below him, but somehow they've evoked his frailty with running gossips. 

The cluster of students would flinch at the loud sound of his chair's feet grinding against the floor as he stood. 

Without facing them, he spoke, “She didn't plagiarize anything, she's better than all of you, better than…” his eyes shifted from ahead of him to the floor beneath him. “...me.”

And he could only say so because you weren't there to defend yourself, even then, you wouldn't have the strength to speak up against them.

He'd run into you on his way out of the classroom, and he would stand there and stare into the empty hallway as you walked past him with your headphones on and textbooks in hand. 

He hoped you would see it —he had left you a note under your desk. Be my partner (please?) ;It had a drawing of keroppi, you grew to despise that character. You'd always see it doodled around his notes, and that time you were in the same group for a mosaic project where he had sketched the frog in pencil on multiple spots of your worksheet.

“Keroppi is cute, you should accept his offer.” you almost gagged at your friend —Yunjin's suggestion.

“No, after what he did? Why should I?” Yunjin shrugged at you.

“Maybe he has something to say, maybe he might even apologize.” you avert your eyes from your laptop, giving yourself a second, and more to think.

Apologize? him? with that inflated ego of his he might as well just tell everyone I plagiarized his work. —you vigorously shook your head. “He wouldn't.”

Scrolling through an article in your laptop, your eyes glided over an ad that read, Looks tough? look again., the image of Eunseok's dismay flaunted by his usually stoic face flashed in your mind. You swore you have never seen him that way before. 

He had never raised eyebrows at you or looked at you for more than ten seconds. You both held the same high regard for your time, and for as long as you've started this enclosed war with him, you've had this unspoken vow to never waste a minute of your time on each other unless it was necessary for you to accomplish your goals. 

“Well, are you really going to group up with Yuri and Ahra? they've been milking you like a cow.” you chuckled despite your friend's genuine worry.

“Well what can we do? They need us.” you watched Yunjin shake her head at your response, a bitter smile spreading across her lips. 

You had no choice. You would definitely tell your teacher if they had no contributions, but they tried.Most of the time their work would be utter garbage, but as the assigned leader for every group work and a renowned top student, you were obligated to put up with their shit and correct every mistake and redo it if it was completely useless.

It's this aspect of yours that Eunseok could never compete with, more of a reason for him to despise you. You could easily talk your way in and out of your classmates' favor, and he thought it was unfair. 

Was it your stupid smile? your gaze so sweet it could kill a man? nonetheless, it was unjustifiable. You can't just be perfect.

He knew you weren't perfect, that you still made errors. When he read the copycat of the essay you made for yourself, he could tell it was definitely yours. The copy was plagiarized word for word, technically he was reading through your very essay. There was an overlooked grammar error, you missed a word in one of the sentences of your conclusion. 

For a minute, he loathed the chuckle that escaped his mouth when he spotted that error. It was very unlike him and he noticed a few of his classmates looking at him like he was an extraterrestrial. Ridding of his immersion, he swiftly folds the paper he was reading, hiding it under his desk. 

You were so flawed, yet he hated you for being perfect. 

“Hate's a strong word.” Eunseok didn't even dare to look at Shotaro as he spoke.  

His left leg was restless, bouncing up and down continuously putting it to an abrupt stop as he replied, “Yeah. So, maybe it's not hate.”

As much as he'd like to deny, he knew he fixated on you —your best qualities— as much as he did his studies. Perhaps it was envy, but it wasn't like he tried ousting you from everyone, he would only watch from a distance whilst you connected with others, and he disconnected himself from the world, too preoccupied with the thought of you. Sure, he could never stare at you, but your image in his mind was crystal clear. So it must be jealousy. But was he really jealous of you, or the people you chose to be involved with?

──────────﹒★﹒﹒──﹒﹒★﹒──────────

School hours have ended, the bell rang and it was soon followed by heavy chattering and some laughter. You could also hear some pained groans, must be because of piling deadlines —you thought as you walked past the rambling crowd. 

You are one amongst those who had no time to wander outside of school perimeters for trifling activities like hanging around. You had responsibilities, responsibilities that did not stray far from your academics, responsibilities that kept you busy and distracted from the sorrows of your life. 

“Y/n! hi! I was wondering…” you turned around, being met with the pretty-faced Yuri and by the look in her eyes and her disheveled cheer uniform, you already knew her purpose of approaching you. “I'm really busy with cheerleading these days, we have a big recital coming up. I was just wondering if you could help me with our oral comm project.”

Busy? busy fucking the jocks? —you hid your hostility behind a lenient smile. “Yeah, sure. Will do.”

“Thanks so much!” you yelped when she had —almost aggressively— pecked your cheek before she ran out of the school building.

Well, the help was only writing a five-page transcript accompanied with unfabricated evidence that you could only hope she'd study for her own sake. You couldn't really say no. You didn't play a major part in the student body org or the literary club, and you were still not accepted in the journalism team. There was no way you could say that you were busy too.

Taking another step, you feel a tap on your shoulder. Three quick taps, whoever it was, you felt their aggression falter in between those taps. You turn around again, thinking it might be Ahra. 

“You saw the note, right?” an exasperated sigh leaves your lips.

“The groups are finalized. Find another partner.” you spoke as you turned your back against him, your tone was a mimicry of his. 

“But…” you halt your steps. Pathetic. —you thought he sounded pathetic, and it was amusing, somehow made you want to hear whatever he had to spew.

“But I want you.” When he saw you shake your head and continue to shun him, he promptly added, “We need to talk, please.”

You were already out the door. It was like a scene in a drama, a very melancholic scene. 

For the first time in Eunseok's life, he'd feel like he made the biggest mistake of his life.

“Oh, sorry!” he kept his eyes straight ahead when Yunjin bumped into him. 

He watched you through the glass, as Yunjin ran after you with a query, “Is he asking you to be his partner again?” 

You sigh again, weakly nodding your head. You felt his gaze through the glass doors, instinctively, you looked back. He was at a great distance from you, but you could see his apologetic eyes. Still, you refused to accept them, shying away from his stare as your subconscious drives you to grab Yunjin by the wrist and pull her away with you. 

Writing an argumentative essay is nothing for you, but why can't you just say it? —he was frustrated with himself, his misguided words, his hesitancy. All he had to say was, I spoke to our teacher about your essay, we're trying to find out who did it. I'm sorry. —just as simple as that. 

He kept his eyes on his feet as he walked to the bus stop, vanity hanging low, wondering when he should try again. If he were to do so, he must do it soon. 

──────────﹒★﹒﹒──﹒﹒★﹒──────────

You had left your study music playing as you rushed back to your classroom to grab your favorite pen. It was the best pen, the best brand that fit your handwriting. It made your writing look effortless and pretty, and you hated when you'd use another pen that makes your writing look like you missed all writing days in kindergarten. 

Before you could reach your classroom though, you were stopped by your English teacher. You almost flinched thinking she'd still have this condemn attitude towards you. 

“Hi Miss Y/s/n, i'm sure Mr. Song had already told you about, you know, the essay.” she looked expectant, but you were still clueless.

“Oh, Ma'am, I actually haven't heard anything from him.” —anything other than his constant, piteous pursuits of having you as his partner. 

“Oh, I thought he would've told you by now —well, anyways…” your teacher holds on to your forearm, moving the both of you aside, out of the way of passersby. “We're trying to find out who plagiarized your work, Mr. Song has offered to help as an apology.”

Your eyes widened by itself, shifting and blinking to the melody of your teacher's short hum. “I have three leads, two of them might've not passed their essays yet —and one is the culprit. A Joo Yuri, Choi Jiung, and Matthew.” you nod along with your teacher's words.

It's Yuri again. —you knew all too well.

“Make sure to inform Mr. Song about this too, I apologize for my inconsiderate assumptions.” she holds your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as she finishes speaking.

You nod hazily, his name still blurry to your auditory canals, “Will do Ma'am.” your utterance was faint, like you were going to break down into a sob. 

Your teacher leaves you a small hug before walking away.

You clear your throat to no one, almost forgetting why you were there, where you were supposed to be. Why didn't he say anything? —was all you could think about as you made small steps to your classroom. Maintaining your pace, you went to your desk, looking and feeling for your pen, but it wasn't there when it should be. You had one knee making contact with the ground, you remained still next to your chair, unsure of where else to look. It wasn't like you constantly shifted places in the classroom, even during vacant times you were always just sitting pretty on your seat. 

You stood up after another minute, and there you saw him from the corner of your eye. He was only two seats behind you, the image was blurry in your peripheral vision, but you knew he was looking at you. You pretend to fix your uniform, fingers clumsily gliding through your shirt's collar and tugging your skirt down a bit. With a quiet sigh, you would turn your back against him again, but instead of lifting a foot and head back to the library, you just stood there. 

He hoped you had a reason for not moving as fast as you'd usually be, one that would lead you to finally accepting his offer. He was obviously oblivious to the fact that you already knew about his personal little mission, so when you rushed near his desk and said, “Wait for me by the drinking fountain near the exit.” the distinguished fire that he had in soul would form sparks. 

His hopeful eyes watched your figure hurry out of the classroom. He knew you'd ignite his flame again, and with an unspoken promise to himself —and to you, he'd grow to treat you as his equal. 

He took anxious steps to meet you later that day, he still wasn't so sure if you had called him there to slap some sense into him or not. 

He'd be a few meters away when you spot him, keeping your gaze at him as he got closer. When he finally stood in front of you, your mutual eyes would meet. It was the closest he'd seen your eyes, and it reflected his own. It was overwhelming for him, and he'd look down to the floor at his right.

“I'll be your partner.” he snaps his head back up to meet your expectant gaze. 

His eyes were the widest you've seen them, you almost wanted to laugh. You tried your best to keep the corners of your lips from rising, but he saw it. It was small and short lived, but it was something worth his own smile spreading across his face. 

However, you would never see that smile since you'd left him after two minutes, but the watchful eyes of your school saw —those who knew him for being so aloof wanted to ask him what made him that way when they had never seen him smile like that. 

“Won the lottery or something?” Shotaro had come up to him from behind, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Huh? Why'd you ask?” Shotaro only shook his head at him, not minding to explain further.

Eunseok seemed to be indifferent to his own feelings as he'd never realized then just how odd he looked to everyone else, especially Shotaro —who had known him since he transferred, swore he'd never seen him make a face like that. 

“You have got to tell me what happened.” 

It was a soft urge, but Eunseok gave in so easily, words slipping off his tongue like they've been sitting there, “She said yes.”

Shotaro had to stop him for a moment, confused as to what he was referring to. Did he ask someone out? —then he remembered the little mission that Eunseok had about asking you to be his project partner. It felt like centuries for him to finally succeed, and when he did he still he thought it was all because of his own effort.

The next day however, his theory would be debunked, finding out that your English teacher had beat him to it.

“It's either Yuri, Jiung or Matthew according to Mrs. Cho.” you were clear-cut with your words, giving him a good three minutes to think of what to reply. 

You were situated in the school's microbiology lab, seated close enough for the two of you to have a comprehensive conversation as you prepared for the project.

“It should be Yuri, right?” the words that fell from his lips had caused a stagger in your movement. 

“What makes you say so?”

“She sticks around you often —during group assignments. She seems so desperate to have you around, and for what? only to make use of you?” 

Your eyes lingered at the side of his face, unbeknownst to you, he's been looking at you the whole time when you weren't looking at him. He'd slowly look back at you, a low chuckle escaping his mouth when he saw a speck of shock on your face. 

Your eyes only grew wider at the sound of his voice, it was unlike his conceited scoffs, and he did not present himself as usual, there was no arrogance in him it seemed.

“I hope you don't call her your friend. She's not. Friends don't use you, friends don't keep you around because they need you to maintain their B pluses and get a few A's.” his voice had a hint of softness in it, it made you avert your eyes from his.

“I know that. I have a friend —I have Yunjin.” you could see him nod from the corner of your eye. 

“That's good, but maybe stop saying yes to those idiotic low-lives.” as harsh as his words were, his tone contradicts them, sounding like a fresh breath of air on a summer night.

You stared at the poster at the other end of the room, a poster about culturing. You two were like pathogens, slowly growing to understand each other. 

He'd keep the image in his head. He could only see one side of your face, but it was enough for him to see your eyes softening as you zoned out, still refusing to smile wholly. 

Later that day, he walked to the teacher's faculty, straight to Mrs. Cho's desk and he bluntly states, “Joo Yuri, it's Joo Yuri who copied Y/n's essay Ma'am.”

The English teacher would tell him shortly after that she'd already figured it out since the two other leads had already passed their essays earlier that day, but she still thanked him —and reminded him to pass his own essay before the end of the week. 

He'd finally rid of the needle stuck in his mind, it was just that now, he'd find himself a different reason to stick around you. 

──────────﹒★﹒﹒──﹒﹒★﹒──────────

Yuri and Ahra had seated themselves with you and Yunjin in the cafeteria, confused as to why they were now grouped with some other brainlet and not you. You would carry on to explain to them why as you ate your food, but Yuri would interrupt, “Isn't it unfair for you and Eunseok to be in the same group?”

And Ahra would butt in. “Tell me about it, like, share some brain cells guys.”

You and Yunjin exchanged looks with each other, and your friend would subtly shake her head.

“You know what, we could've asked Eunseok first. He's not only really smart, he's like, really cute too.” you softly bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing a scoff as you listened to Yuri babble on about your project partner.

“Yeah? Do you fancy him now?” you ask with a slight laugh.

“Well, yeah. There's no way a little touch won't break him out of his shell.”

You and Yunjin would exchange looks again, this time visibly disgusted. 

There was no way Eunseok would fall for someone like her, right? But he was just another guy, and guys are so unpredictably predictable, if that even made any sense. 

In a span of a few days, you would walk in the classroom seeing Yuri seated next to Eunseok, almost squishing herself into him. You'd meet eyes with him, and you'd immediately look away, almost rolling your eyes as you walked to your seat. 

Once you were seated, you'd hear them converse, or more accurately, here Yuri ramble as Eunseok gave her the driest replies you've ever heard.

“You should tutor me, you know. I feel like you could make me a better student. Maybe we can hang out at your place? study? or anything else you have in mind?”

“I don't do commissions and my family doesn't welcome strays.” Your back faced them so they couldn't see you holding back your laughter as you quietly sat and listened, pretending to read something in your textbook. 

The bell rang minutes later, you remained seated watching everyone else run out of the classroom to get lunch or go on about whatever they had to do before you got up yourself. When you stood up, you felt a slight nudge. It was Yuri, she held out a tiny piece of paper with what you could only make up as numbers —a phone number in Eunseok's handwriting. “I got him.” she whispers, wearing a smug smile after.

You waited for her to disappear from your sight before you shook your head. It wasn't impossible for Eunseok to not give in to her, she's pretty, she's skinny, her hair is healthy, so why not right?

When you had tidied up your space, you turned around to make your way to the door, only to be met with him. It's been more than ten seconds when he realized you were looking right into his eyes, and he'd shy away for a bit before finding your gaze again. 

“What happened to saying no to low-lives?” an innocent chuckle left your mouth as you spoke.

“Oh, that? it wasn't my number.” he smirked, glancing at the ground for a short while. “I saw it on a flyer for pest control.” 

You almost guffawed at what he said, but you maintain your composure. “That's too bad, I thought you'd consider tutoring her.” you started taking steps to the door, and he'd follow closely behind you.

“Me? tutor her?”

“Well, yeah. She's a pretty girl. You could ask every guy in this school and they'll tell you they'd hit.” 

You two were already out of the classroom, walking side-by-side as you made your way to the cafeteria. It was silent for a while, until he spoke again to reply,

“Maybe that's true, but I'd rather have you than her.” he said, almost in a laugh. 

It wasn't quite clear to you what he meant, but you assumed it was just his way of telling you that he'd prefer an intellectual over someone who's just in for play. You two would part ways once you've stepped foot in the cafeteria, giving each other one last glance before heading your separate ways. 

A playful grin greets you when you sit down next to Yunjin who says, “You seem happy today.”

“I do?” it was a genuine question, but Yunjin couldn't help but laugh at you. “What?”

“I see you got yourself a new best friend.” she would then wiggle her brows and point at Eunseok's direction with her head.

“He's not.” a smile would creep up to your lips, shaking your head at the same pace you spoke. 

“Well, you two were definitely not fighting. That has got to count for something.” you would end up quietly laughing with her. 

You couldn't tell if it was just the pity he felt for you that one fateful day at the teachers' faculty room, or if it was something in the air —perhaps something you had said to him that had led him to take a second look. Hate is a strong word, and when he'd look at you again, he knew it wasn't hate, nor resentment. Maybe it wasn't the others' favor that he yearned for —maybe it was yours.

do you want to stargaze with me?

> yes <33

> no :(( (thanks for reading!)

#riize #riize au #riize fanfic #briize #riize x reader #riize fluff #riize eunseok #song eunseok #riize imagines #songfic #spotify

[dduane]

Hi hi! Hope you are doing well! Would like to say I absolutely adore your works, and am very happy to have found you.

(Apologies in semi-advance for any grammatical or spelling errors, English is not my native language.)

I understand that you do not write Star Trek any more, and have not for some time, but I have a question regarding the spoken Vulcan that was seen in Spock's World. Particularly "Hwath ta-jevehih tak rehehlh kutukk'sheih nei ya'ch'euvh" seen on page 111, and "ekhwe'na meh kroykah tevesh" on page 227 (or at least in my copy). There are no translations or suggestions of such for either one. I was simply wondering what you were thinking they or what you believed they were expressing while writing it, if there was any. It has been on my mind ever since I read the book, and despite my best efforts, will likely continue to be unless addressed. If you have already answered this question elsewhere, then do direct me that way.

Regardless of your response, I would love to express my joy over the book as a whole. I read its entirety in a single day. Between how you crafted the worlds in such vividly visible detail and beauty, and the way you portrayed Sarek, Amanda, and Leonard, and frankly all of the characters, really made my day.

Thank you! :D

Hi there!

Since in the first one McCoy's discussing with Kirk how he learned Vulcan, and Kirk asks him whether he'd taken a "listening course" or a "speaking and listening" one, McCoy's response almost certainly means something along the lines of "Like I'd have had time for that while I was on leave!" (In any case. McCoy had taken a series of tailored messenger-RNA treatments to acquire basic fluency in the language.)

The p. 227 excerpt comes during McCoy's address to the population of Vulcan during the secession debates. Having said "Hell, no!" to the question of whether he approves of the concept, McCoy then asks pardon for slipping into his native idiom when he might "more correctly" quoted Surak by saying—and he says it in archaic and period-correct Vulcan— "Better even rude* truth than craven refuge in silence." (The kroykah in the Vulcan phrase, which we've heard canonically in ST:TOS s2e1, "Amok Time," is here used in its sense of "be still" or "be silent", with an inferred positive inflection from the "-'na", instead of "Stop" or "Cut that out right now".)

In both these cases I didn't translate because I wanted the reader to have a chance to experience the slightly-at-sea sensation then being experienced by the POV character. In both cases the meanings aren't necessarily going to be important to the reader, but the usage itself goes to the issue of the moment: that Vulcan is being spoken (a) relatively easily and (b) with significant effect.

I can't take credit for the technique. I picked it up from C.J. Cherryh, who as a language teacher is absolutely flawless in the way she handles alien languages in her work. Whether I pulled it off as well as she does is a judgment best left to the readership.

Meanwhile, thanks for the query! And I'm delighted you enjoyed the book. :)

*In the sense of "rough" or "ill-formed", not "impolite".

#Star Trek #Star Trek novels #Leonard McCoy #Spock's World

[rockinrobinst]

EDDIE X Bookworm/Romance Reader.

Warnings: F reader, loneliness and mentions of bullying. Use of Y/N.

~~~

You'd graduated far past shame at this point, so it was with a 'i don't actually care if you see' attitude that you'd packed a romance novel in your bag to read during lunch that morning. You were new and did not have many people to speak with at this stage and no one seemed particularly interested in changing that

It was almost cliche, that whenever you expressed an interest in anything someone within the school would find a way to make fun of it. You'd been humiliated when you'd said you like to read fantasy books in a class introduction in English.

You'd had your books knocked out of your arms for saying you didn't really enjoy a certain movie, and the same for saying you did enjoy another.

Highschool was just like that you supposed. So, rather than sit in the cafeteria you'd found a shady spot by a tree and curled up with your latest Judith McNaught novel and your lunch. You'd been so engrossed by the novel you'd not actually heard the bell ring, and by the time a teacher caught you, you were 15 minutes late. In your hurry, you left the damn book there.

--

It wasn't there when you got out of class. You swore up a storm as you stomped your way to lost property. While the office ladies were not sympathetic, they said they'd call your parents if it was found.

It took Two. Fucking. Weeks. But they called, and your book was back in your hands, after a slightly judgemental look from the office lady. You raced home, enthusiastic to keep reading. After showering and changing you lounged in the bed, opening the book to find it'd been defiled.

Someone had written in your book. You were angry, for a moment, and hesitantly started reading before you noticed it wasn't name calling, just messy annotations in the margins.

You quickly flipped back to the beginning, and sure enough there were notes in the margins the whole way through. Little chapter summaries on the first page of the next chapters.

The notes weren't. . . Approving necessarily but they weren't bullying. You closed the book and tried to identify how you felt about it. You were a little pissed that someone wrote in your book but from the little notes you'd read so far, it was like having a friend read with you. It felt exciting.

You started from the beginning, reading all the little annotations and laughing harder than you normally would at the book. You firmly disagreed with some of the points and took to marking those points in red so you could argue back with your anonymous reader.

You read all through dinner, and stayed up late to finish, spurred on my comments like "wow, what a coincidence" when the two leads met 'by accident' and "What does that even mean" to a flowery line description of the Hero.

The comments continued, though the steamy scenes ("Does gravity even work like that?", "There is NO way that feels good", "... Adding that to my bucket list" )

Through the drama ("JUST TALK TO EACHOTHER", "Please for the love of god just FUCK" and "Jesus. H. Christ)

And to the conclusion of the book, with the characters happily in love ( "FINALLY" "This would have been better with monsters" and "I can't believe she's pregnant!")

You finished the book at one in the morning, turning to the last page and seeing a phone number scrawled in the messy writing you'd come to enjoy.

"Call me" was written underneath.

You didn't even hesitate, scrambling down the stairs and dialling the number in the darkness of the kitchen. Anxiety hit you once the phone was ringing. It was late who would even-

"Hello?" A groggy voice answered and a rush of humiliation ran through you as you heard the deep voice. A guy then, you thought.

You wanted to say so much. You wanted to say that that was the best way you've read a book, or that you appreciated his thoughtfully designed annotations but instead you came out with "Is this the asshole that wrote In my book?" There was a beat of silence and then loud, boisterous laughter came down the phone. You could feel yourself blushing just at the sound and snapped, out of embarrassment "Was this some kind of joke!? It's not fucking funny"

The laughter stopped as suddenly as it started and the person on the other line said "No . . . What makes you think that?"

You huff "You're laughing at me"

You can hear the smile in the voice when they reply "Not at you."

You're clutching the phone tighter when you spit out "At what then!?". Through all the anxiety and humiliation fuelled anger you do notice the voice sounds friendly. You kind of ache a little at that, wanting a friend here so badly it knots your stomach.

The laughing voice comes back with "I wasn't expecting a call for fucking ages. It took me two weeks to read that book. What, did you skim it?"

Oh. That settles the anxiety in your stomach a little and you let out a viable breath, shrinking on yourself a little when you say back, quietly "No, I just read quick. I stayed up."

"I see, you're a bookworm then!" The voice sounds so fond somehow, so endearing that you burst into tears.

You try to muffle it, you do, but the intake of breath carries across the line and with a panicked "Shit, I'm sorry! What did I say?!"

You giggle at that, laughing through your tears as you take a steadying breath "No no, it wasn't you." Another sob leaves you "it's just- nice."

"Nice" the other person says, confused.

You hum in agreement, still crying but quieter now "no one's been this nice since I got here" you say, shyly.

An understanding noise comes through the line "ah" they say, suddenly shy as well.

You take a few steadying breaths before saying "Thank you"

"You're welcome" they say, the smile back in their voice "So...."

That makes you laugh again "So..." You repeat, in a slightly teasing matter

They laugh again. It's loud and happy. It make you smile and you're sure they can hear your quiet laughter through the phone.

"Do I get to know your name, little bookworm?" The voice is teasing. Deliberately light but you can tell there is a little flirting in there.

Oh. Your blush is back.

"Y/n" you say, quiet, "Do I get yours?"

"Eddie" they say and for the first time they sound nervous.

You're quiet for just a moment before you ask "The Eddie that makes scenes in the cafeteria?"

"Yeah...."

"Oh! You're in my math class." You say, excited, not mentioning that you'd never actually seem him attend said class, but glad you found a point of connection.

A relieved laugh comes through the line and it makes you smile as he said "Am I now?" You only him lowly in agreement before he asks "Do you have anymore books I can write in?" He asks, voice heavy with suggestion.

A huge grin breaks out on your face and you close your eyes "I've got a better idea" you tell him

"Oh? And whats that?" He asks, voice still flirty

You try and match his tone when you say "we could just read em together? My books can stay pen free"

He laughs again and you join in "Alright little bookworm, it's a deal. Mine or yours?"

"Mine. When?"

"Where do you live?" You tell him "I can be there in 10"

"It's a date" you say, breathless.

"See you soon, little bookworm" he says, the fondness that had made you cry back in his voice.

"See you soon, Eddie." You say.

It's not until you hang up the phone that you realise the time. It takes you all of ten minutes to plot a way to sneak your new friend into your room. Just as you're finished dumping water bottles, snacks and spare blankets in your room you see lights outside, via your window, and see a van pulling up.

He had arrived.

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female character

[lone-wolf-nergiganos]

Anyways my idea was male reader is a student at ua and his father is really abusive and one day his sleeve comes up and aizawa sees it and asks to talk to him after class. And maybe he calls cps. Anyway sorry for asking so late. And could it be a one shot? (I’m so smart I used copy and paste!!)

Sure, request approved.

Aizawa X Abused! Student Male Reader

This morning wasn't the best morning for you, because you had to deal with your father, who is unfortunately abusive to you before going to school. You aren't the only target however, because your mother has to deal with the constant abuse your father inflicts upon you as well. She tried and still tries her best to get a divorce, but she is under the influence of your father's manipulation to the point where she can't do anything until the right moment.

You didn't talked about this long term situation to anyone, not even to your friends. You try so hard to pretend that you are living a good life, but deep down you just wish you could get out of the hell your father puts you and your mother in.

You were currently in your classroom while completing assignments for your teacher, Aizawa. You were sitting in the front row so it's easy for Aizawa to see what you are doing. You then began to notice that Aizawa is staring right at you, you were confused at first but you soon realized why he was staring at you. One of your sleeves were up, but that wasn't the only thing that worried you, it was the exposed bruises and scars from your father.

Aizawa quickly got up before walking up to you, you covered your bruised arm to hide it from him, but you knew it was too late at this point. "Y/N, do you want to talk about something?" Aizawa asked while whispering, you nodded while looking away.

After that you two walked out of the classroom before Aizawa asked you, "what happened to your arm Y/N?" You looked away before saying, "It's nothing Mr. Aizawa, I tripped while walking to school." He didn't believed this, "I know this isn't true Y/N, please be honest with me." You looked at him while trying to hold back your tears, "it's about my dad," you confessed.

"What about your dad?" Aizawa asked even more concerned, you continued to hold back your tears but couldn't hold back any longer. You mustered up all the courage to answer the question truthfully while crying profusely, "he's abusive, he's the reason why I have all of these bruises and scars on my arm!" You yelled while still crying, Aizawa hugged you tightly before saying, "don't worry Y/N, we'll put an end to this, I promise." You hugged him back before saying, "really?" "Yes Y/N, you don't deserve to have a father like that, you deserve a better one."

After he said that, you felt like all of the weight you've been carrying for most of your life has finally lifted. "Thanks for being honest with me Y/N, I promise I will help you get through this no matter what," Aizawa said. "Okay, thanks for helping me Mr. Aizawa," said while smiling slightly. After that you two went back in the classroom before it ended.

After getting done with school you walked back home only to see police cars in the front yard of your house, you were very confused at first but you realized why they were there. You saw your father being taken to one of the police cars while in handcuffs. After witnessing this scene, you felt free, free from the abuse that you thought would never end.

It didn't took long for you and your mother to finally press charges on him for everything he has done, and the divorce was easy and swift for your mother. Now the pitiful excuse of a father is finally behind bars and will remain there until he dies. Since then you thanked Aizawa for helping you get out of the seemingly neverending hell you've endured for too long.

Years had passed since then, and Aizawa and your mother even started dating before eventually getting married. He may not be your actual father, but he would always prove that he cares for you and your mother and would be there for you when times get hard.

#my hero academia x male reader #mha x male reader #bhna x male reader #aizawa x male reader #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa angst #x male reader #male reader insert #male reader #tw abuse

[rosewaterandivy]

10. a kiss is not enough

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

W.C.: 4.5K

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations - SMUT & idolatry (my usual bullshit), real-talk with Nancy Wheeler, idiots still being idiots, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: Holy shit, I can't believe we've come to the end (or is it 👀) of this series! When I started this, I had no clue how many people would respond to Trouble and Steve's idiots-to-lovers story - but I'm so glad that they did! This series will always be near and dear to my heart, for a variety of reasons, but primarily for the people it brought into my life (here's lookin' at you, babe!). This isn't a goodbye from Trouble and Steve so much as a see you later - don't hate me too much! Poetry excerpt from John Keats. 18+ mature content (minors dni). Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, please let me know what you thought; enjoy & thanks for reading! 💜

series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!

Trouble’s playlist from Steve: trouble will find me

Steve's playlist from Trouble: rebel without a clue

previous || epilogue

Now, May, Finals Week

“Just think about it, kid,” Hopper says on his way out your classroom door. He’d requested a meeting during your conference block, when normally he’d amble in under some pretense just to shoot the shit.

You nod, at a loss for words. It’s not like you needed yet another thing on your plate— waiting to hear back from admissions and not spilling to Steve or the gang was bad enough.

Yeah, you’d applied for grad school (even though grad students were the worst) and Hop had been contacted as a reference, which prompted his little visit today. Apparently, the district had approved a stipend and sabbatical for faculty furthering their education in graduate school.

“I’d like to recommend you,” Hop said matter of factly, sitting in a desk across from yours. “Maybe not for the sabbatical until you’re further along in the program, writing your thesis and whatnot.”

“I, uh–” you stumbled to find the words. “Cart, horse. I haven’t been accepted yet.”

He leveled you with a look, “Are you shittin’ me? Of course you’re getting in.”

You swallowed audibly and busied yourself emptying your desk for the summer, “Well, time will tell I suppose.”

“This isn’t—” Hopper paused in thought. “This isn’t about Harrington, is it?”

“Huh,” you nearly yelled, clutching the cardboard box for dear life. You had been so careful too.

He cracks a smile, “I saw the pair of you at graduation, you think you’re so slick.”

That brings a smile to your face, good ol’ Hop sussing out the goings on like he’d never left the force. 

“It’s nothing.” You assure him, “We haven’t— We’re professionals, okay?”

“I know,” he nods, voice lowering as if he could spook you. “I’m happy for you, really.”

A small smile breaks across your face, “Yeah, uh, thanks.”

Finals done and grades posted, you’d never been so happy to get home. Had plans to pour yourself onto the couch and not move for 72 hours. 

But life (and Steve) had other plans.

He was sorting through the mail, chucking envelopes into various piles on the countertop. The loft was quiet that afternoon— Eddie had a gig in Indy that evening and Robin was crashing at Vickie’s for the night. Steve hummed a tune to himself, the occasional slap of paper hitting the granite punctuating it.

“Oh hey,” Steve turns with a large envelope in hand, “This looks important.” Tosses it with freakish accuracy, the white paper landing with a thwack where your shorts had ridden up against your thigh. 

Distracted by whatever drama was unfolding on TV— something about a crew working on chartered private boats— you mindlessly slip your thumb beneath the lip of the envelope and tear it open. 

It’s only once you’ve pulled the papers from it that you glance to see what’s what. The university’s crest shines like a beacon, your thumb worrying over the topmost letter. Steve, the bastard, has stopped his mail sorting and turned toward you.

He leans lazily against the counter, a knowing smirk fixed on his lips. You scramble up from the couch with the papers, too nervous to see for yourself. “Here,” you say, thrusting the envelope and documents to his chest. “Can you—”

Pulling you to his chest with an arm, he brushes his lips against the crown of your head. “Sure, honey.” You wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest— warm and familiar.

“You know,” he drawls, “The big envelope generally means something good, right?”

“I know,” muffled against his shirt.

He chuckles, hand coming up to cradle your head. Steve clears his throat, reads the opening of the letter in his best announcer voice. “Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that…”

The rest is drowned out by the rushing of blood in your ears, the tears pooling in your eyes breaking free to cascade down your cheeks. He squeezes you tight abandoning the acceptance letter and letting it flutter to the floor in favor of drawing you closer. Steve kisses you, licking your own tears into your mouth, your taste onto your tongue. And it’s so weirdly hot that your heart starts fluttering again, like you’re seeing him for the first time.

Because of course, just as things were going right something had to come and throw a wrench into things. 

Plans for lazing in the early summer forgotten, the next few days saw you coming and going from the university campus for orientation, meetings with faculty, so on and so forth. As you were leaving the grad student mixer, a professor peeled off from a group of faculty to flag you down with a call of your name.

You turn, not recognizing them from the English department. She’s an older woman, has maybe a few years on your mother, and is swathed in a lovely linen dress— the cool elegance of minimalist style.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Holland,” she says shaking your hand. “I’m on the admissions committee and was very impressed with your work on Dante Alighieri.”

“Oh, thanks!”

“And you studied Italian as an undergrad?”

“Certo.”

That brings a smile to her face. “Perfetto,” she says with a perfect Italian accent and waves over another faculty member. “I only ask because there’s a summer intensive in Italy beginning next week that I think you’d be perfect for.” 

Your mind reels. The new professor introduces himself and echoes Dr. Holland’s sentiments— a summer session of classes in Italy, in partnership with Università di Bologna, the oldest university in operation in the world. Scholarships that would cover the cost of tuition, travel, and accommodations for you to peruse.

What the fuck.

Vision swimming, you somehow come back to the conversation at hand. Dr. Holland presses a folder to your hand, “I know you were planning on taking the introductory grad school courses over the summer, but I hope you’ll consider joining us in Italy instead.”

You nod, gobsmacked and make your way to the car. Settling into the sweltering seat, you start the car and call Nancy. If anyone would know what to say in this situation, it would be her.

“That’s the thing,” you sigh, wine glass in hand as you slump on Nancy’s couch. “We’re not anything, haven’t discussed it. I mean, sure, we fuck like rabbits, but aside from that?”

She blows a raspberry and sips from her glass. “He’s in love with you, get over it.”

You jerk up, “Okay, maybe,” you allow. “But he hasn’t said anything.”

“And you won’t pony up to do it yourself?”

A scoff as you drain your glass. “I’m sorry, have you met me?”

Nancy laughs at that, loud and bright. “Unfortunately, yes!” She refills your glass before continuing, “Let’s be honest, you’re both hopeless when it comes to eachother.” She raises her brow before you can balk, “Full offense intended.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

She hums at that, head cocked to the side in thought. Her nail taps against the glass with a soft clink. A bite to her lips before she heaves a sigh, “Sometimes he just needs a push.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “I am absolutely not telling him he’s bullshit, if that’s what you’re after.”

Nancy, to her credit, winces uncomfortably at the memory. “No, no,” a shake of her head. “Absolutely not, you would never.” She sets her glass down carefully, giving you her full attention. “What I’m getting at is this: do you want to be something with Steve?”

She lets the question hang in the air between you. 

“Because if you don’t know Trouble, you should back away now.” A low warning tone. “You’re it for him, have been since he laid eyes on you, but you’re both too scared to do anything about it.”

You drain your glass to the dregs and hastily take your leave. At the sound of the door closing, Nancy grabs her phone and brings it to her ear, “Hey Harrington, I need a favor…”

Returning from a less than helpful hang session at Nancy’s, you find a post-it note left on your bedroom, door that reads ‘meet me at our spot on lover’s lake. - s.’

Prizing it from the wood grain, you make your way back to the kitchen to scavenge for something to eat, in an effort to soak up the remnants of wine in your system. Opening the fridge you spy another post-it stuck to the topmost shelf: ‘get your ass down here, i’ll feed you soon enough. - s.’

With a laugh, you let the fridge door fall shut and grab your keys.

_

He can see you now, just barley, even in the indigo dark. Wonders to himself, how are you even real? How is it that you’re mine? An explanation that won’t ever come. 

You slip into the cool water of Lover’s Lake like a dream, with nary a sound. Steve stumbles after you on the piles of clothing you’d left behind—bunched up denim shorts here, a threadbare tank-top over there, the silk of your thong musky and damp. 

Fisting his shirt to pull it up and over his head, it falls to the forest floor behind him, jeans shucked off and tossed elsewhere, boxers joining your lingerie by the shore. His patience is wearing thin as you wade further and further from him out into the lake. 

Little minx, he smiles and takes a breath before diving beneath the waves. Arms cutting through the placid water at a quick pace until he’s occupying the space between your bare legs, and coming up for air. 

One arm drags you near, lazily pressing you close, tight around the small of your back as the tide breaks around your waist, minute movements almost imperceptible— the slow roll of your hips against his.

Water shallow enough to tread and keep you buoyant. Steve kisses you slow and sweet, pulling you flush against his chest while you writhe under the water’s surface. Body slick and wanton and arching into his own. 

His dick jumps when you lift yourself to drape your arms around his shoulders. A sharp breath replaced with a shaky exhale as he brings his forehead to rest on yours, dark eyes taking in the exhilarated flush of your body. 

And Steve knows, under his skin and tucked into the cage of his ribs, near the beating of his anguished heart, that you’re the only thing left in this world worth worshipping. To keep you, and render you a flightless bird, to clip your wings, would be all for naught.

He has to let you go again, and so soon after you found him. From perihelion to aphelion before the moon’s full turning. The soft curve of your throat drawn taut as you glance upward, marvelling at the stars and planets in the northern sky. 

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” Your voice is a husk, low and hoarse, in the dark. “Its loveliness increases, it will never pass into nothingness.” Your eyes, once fixed on the sea of stars above, shift to him once more.

Closer to the shoreline now, and unbeknownst to you, Steve had gently waded you both inshore, until he could draw you toward the dock. 

You let him walk you back until you’re flush against a mooring pole, wood rough against your moon-bathed skin. Body yielding to him as both his hands slide beneath your bottom, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before he pulls you forward by the hips.

“S’okay, honey,” He mutters—right into your panting mouth with a sultry pull of his lips. “I’ve got you.”

“Steve,” You gasp, “This is unfair.” Your body jerks with every teasing kiss from his lips that he laves and sucks to the column of your throat.

He ignores you, crawling his hands onto your hips to keep you from squirming. Works his thigh in between your legs for good measure. Once you’re settled, he moves one hand to your center a finger trailing up and down your slippery folds. His mouth latches onto the spot that makes you keen, just behind your ear. You fist his hair in both hands at the same time he slips a digit inside.

But Steve doesn’t move. Other than his tongue’s soft licks on your neck and into your kiss-bitten mouth, he doesn’t move at all. He happily lets his finger rest inside of you, gathering your juices all over his hand.

You whimper, trying to shimmy against them, anything to create more contact. Its intrusion lights a terrible match inside of your body, and goddamn it, you want to a forest fire.

Calming breaths in and out. Steady head, steady heart. When you’re able to meet his gaze again, you take a moment to see him as he truly is: dappled in moonlight, forelock hanging in front of his eyes, his entire focus trained on you.

It feels like an eternity passes before he finally lets you have another—adding one more thick finger inside, stretching you as he moves them both around, curling them, scissoring them, pumping them in and out.

Steve sucks enthusiastically on your sensitive skin and lips, fucks you with two fingers almost wildly, and your body responds with fervor. You gasp and moan, arching back into his hand, goosebumps blooming all over your shoulders and down your arms and legs.

You shake like a leaf in his arms, not knowing if it’s from the cool night air or due to the man before you. 

Instead of increasing his pace, Steve continues to stroke you with his fingers, slowly prodding at your entrance with a third. Your eyes roll back and get lost in your head as you lean back with a whimper.

“Just trying to get you ready.” He murmurs, so soft and low that your heart stills.

Your legs wrap around his back loosely as he holds you still, his previous two fingers pushing inside gently. The third finger meets resistance as you tense up. “S-sorry,” You whisper, “I’m…” 

Your head knocks back against the wooden pier. But you move his hand back and try again. He’s so tender and sweet with you as he turns his head to place kisses on your cheek and ear.

You blink owlishly, trying desperately to weave your threads of thought together. A shake of your head to rattle them loose. A sweet smile up to Steve, a barely there kiss to his lips.

Your eyelids are heavy, breaths heaving from your chest. Steve commits to memory the way your lids flutter when he touches you.

You gasp and moan, arching your chest into his and pulled as taut as a bow sting—back forming a crescent-shaped arc, a sliver of the moon radiant in the inky blue reflection of the water.

“C’mon, that’s it, honey. You’re so close. Almost there… Good girl… Good girl.”

With a cry, you come undone, rolling your hips every which way as you reach orgasm on Steve’s hand. His voice continues to praise you, lips kissing your sweat-slicked collar, bristles on his cheek and jaw tickling your sensitive skin.

Coming back to yourself, you shiver bodily. And Steve looks at you as if you hold infinities in the palms your hands. 

You reach for him reverently, desperate for his shape of beauty and noble nature. A dream realized, a wish granted, gentle and true. You feel brave enough to shift and stroke him with determination.

You whisper, "Missed you," eliciting a shudder from him as your palm grips him tenderly. 

Relishing in the temperature of his body, you sigh. Spreading the beaded precome at the tip of his cock up and down his shaft. Steve groans, head falling to yours.

“Missed you more,” He hums, eyes heavy-lidded and lustful. 

Gasping as Steve guides your hips with one hand, and grips himself with the other. Slowly and without haste, he fills you inch by inch until he’s so deep inside you think he could burst from your throat.

You whimper. There aren’t enough words to describe it— the gratifying sting, an all-encompassing and chilling burn, a mystifying and utter fullness that nearly brings tears to your eyes. You’re fearful to move, to lose this sensation, and afraid to feel what comes next. But you know that you want it.

Steve kisses your lips tenderly, babbling praise, whispering affirmations, soothing the shock that surges up your spine with his warm palm. Slowly, he rocks you back, as water lapping against your thighs, holds onto your body with one hand, smoothing the hair that falls over your face with the other.

You’re gripping him so tightly it takes some effort to slide even an inch of him out— and there’s many inches of him. Sweat collects on your brow as you grind, dragging against his length, forcing shudders to course all over both your bodies. “Is this okay?” you cry, delirious, “Steve? You feel so good.”

He moves in you, like a prayer.

A groan escapes him as his hand squeezes your back just a little too hard. He’s holding back, trying to prolong your pleasure, but his own is chasing him down, only a few steps away from pouncing.

You coax it towards him with faster snapping of your hips against his, clawing at his back, nibbling on his ear. “Come on, lover… just a little more.”

With a grunt and a shudder, and a hard kiss to your lips that makes your teeth clack against each other, Steve thrusts one last time as deeply as possible, riding out his orgasm as he pulls your hips against his. 

The two of you feel rooted together, sticky with sweat and so tightly flushed that you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. Your body slumps as you drape your arms over his neck. Steve turns his head to kiss your shoulder before making the effort to pull away, your shaky legs held in his secure grasp.

The black slik of night gives way to the earth’s rotation, stars and moon bending to the will of gravity. Splashes in its silent, dark depths as you broach the shore. A little shaky on your feet, but he’s close behind, sultry and brilliant like the summer morning quickly approaching.

Whispers and murmurs tucked between fervent kisses as you dress. Fabric sticking to damp skin as his hands roam. Frenetic movements as he backs you up against the car, the coolness of it causing you to shiver. 

“You should do it,” he rasps against your lips. “The Italy thing, you always loved it there.”

“How did you–” you sputter.

You can’t see him roll his eyes, but you just know. “Nance, who else?” 

The warmth of Steve’s body burns against you, a hand threading through your hair half-convinced the moon is hiding there, hanging like a jewel in the night. And you’re a mess when you kiss him. Your breath is warm and so sweet, and the center of his chest squirms like something alive. 

In that moment, you love him but can’t tell him, not yet. You decide the sun that will kiss freckles to his face will do it for you.   

The song of summer sings out as you load your suitcase into Nancy’s car a few days later. The trunk slams closed and your back is pressed against his chest, his arm hanging casually around your collar. It is the end of May, the first bloom of summer balmy on your skin.

Steve had not taken the news of Nancy driving you to the airport well.

At all.

A sponged necklace of kisses to your throat as the light creeps in. Sheets kicked to the edge of the bed so you’re tangled up in him. Skin already glinting gold in the summer sun. Twisting in his hold, desperate to glance at the time. “Steve,” muffled against the heft of his shoulder, “I gotta go, Nance will be here soon.” 

The turn of his weight bearing down, trapping your body under his. A cruel circle of his hips has you shuddering. His breath ghosts along your skin, “Baby, baby please.” Nose trailing down from your sternum to the swell of your stomach. Pausing there for lips to lave kisses on the curves that trailed to your hips. 

Eyes dark and heady with promise, “Just a taste.” Lips and mouth delving lower now, fingers parting the cleave of your cunt with a squelch. He hooks them back into his mouth with a groan. “Mmm,” he slurs, drunk off your arousal. “You taste good, sweetheart,” His nose bumps against your clit, “Like honey.”

Breath stuttering in the cage of your ribs, you fist his hair in one hand and tug. Steve moans overtly, pupils blown wide while he’s face deep in pussy. “Steve,” Your voice trembles. He glances up, smoldering and glorious, drinking you up. “Ah—fuck,” before you’re overtaken again.

You’re desperate, and he can hear it in your voice. A quiver in your throat, you swallow thickly mouth falling open in a pant. His fingers work into you easily, dragging exquisitely along your channel—warm and wet, only growing more so with every thrust of his hand. You mewl, hips bucking up as he sucks your swollen clit. 

Legs thrown over his shoulders, as he cants your pelvis forward, arm heavy against your stomach to bully you in place. “Sweet girl,” He coos, lips ruddy and wet with your slick. “Doin’ so well for me.” You shiver in his hold, sunbeams hazy with orange glow, the refracting light makes a halo to crown him and for a second you feel blind.

Then you feel something pulled taut in your belly. A chord stretching like a rubber band before it snaps. The wind up is excruciating, Steve’s litany of devotions falling in hushed murmurs from his lips. His fingers plunging up into the chasm between your legs, pulling away wetter each time.

He bends back down, tongue circling your clit at a dizzying pace. A third finger slides in impossibly, a keen igniting from your throat—high and whimpering. God, you’re so close. You babble, hands scrambling purchase against his dewy skin.

“Come,” he commands, “Come for me right now and I’ll fuck you through it, how you like. Then I’ll make you come again and we can go.”

“Oh my god,” you thrash on the bed, hair sticking to the sheen of your face, hanging on by a thread as his fingers drive into you, on a mission to break either the bed frame or your brain, both were fine. In a rush. Can’t quit now. A little bit more. Your entire body is folded against him, insides fluttering desperately, maddeningly.

“Everyone’s gonna know,” Steve promises, “You stumbling in there.”

The image flashes through your lust-addled brain, the telltale sign of him screwing you stupid— lips swollen, legs wobbly, outfit crumpled up, smelling like him and sex in front of all your friends.

“You want it, don’t you, want them to know you’re all mine?” He smears your wet around the sides of your cunt— spit, slick— up to your clit. And then he pushes you like a button, flicking the pad of his thumb upwards and grins at the way you jerk in time.

“Stevie,” you mewl, “Steve.” The syllable breaks, your panting comes out in choked babbling.

You drily sob out something broken, a tiny echo of affirmation as he keeps fucking into you like he could break through. He’s really abused your pussy this morning, maybe gone too far, but every time you come like this, it’s like he’s seeing something holy. 

“Oh my god…!” It’s a small shout as you shatter, and it makes Steve’s spine light up as you rub your face further into the pillow.

“Praying to me, sweetheart?” but doesn’t stop those tiny, hard circles, doesn’t stop melting into your body, his dick pulsing as he ruts against the sheets. “You can keep doing that,” he urges, “I like that.”

So, you’re not surprised when the two of you stumble into a nearly finished breakfast, as predicted, in a terrible disarray, and Robin crosses herself before promising, “I’m getting you two a goddamn chastity belt.”

On the couch, Eddie clicks the remote to a new channel, snapping his ring-clad fingers with an offhanded, “A-fucking-men.”

As much as you tried to tell yourself that this wasn’t goodbye but instead see you soon, it didn’t stick. But the ache in your gut did—low and menacing, growling like an animal. 

Eddie and Robin were easy, promises to stay in touch and bring back the best candy. Your parents were less so, tight hugs and dried tears on cheeks. 

Steve, however, you needed to brace yourself for. Short of chaining yourself to Nancy’s car, you weren’t sure how you’d escape with your dignity intact. He was already kissing on you, soft and sweet, as Nancy slid into the driver’s seat while Eddie and Robin waved goodbye walking back inside.

You slip from his grasp in a flash, pulling him by the belt loops to knock hips. “Stevie, lover mine,” you sing, his palms cupping your ass as his hands slide into your back pockets.

Lover.

What a word.

You think about it every waking second—the way he stretches in the morning, how he sings in the shower, dances in the kitchen, smiles and beams at anyone who passes by—how good he is.

How you love him.

“Mm—” raspy, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Feet walking you closer and closer and you’re pressed against him. Nosing along the column of his neck, nipping at the delicate skin there, watching as his throat bobs when he swallows. 

Hands free themselves from denim confines, a thumb caresses the small of your back. Steve pries your hand from his chest, and brings it to his mouth, placing a tender kiss against your palm. 

You hum as his lips brush your skin, observing as he meanders to the thin flesh of your wrist. Hazel eyes near golden in the morning sun as Steve looks to you, face open and fond. Lips featherlight when they kiss your thundering pulse.

Only then do you start to break. 

You thought you were prepared. But it steals the breath from your lungs, levelling you to ruin, a creeping sense of hopelessness in its wake. 

He’s quick to notice, crushing you to his chest and hand cradling your head. Soothing murmurs of “S’okay honey, we’ll be alright,” and the rasp of your name. Fingers brushing hair from your face with a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

And it is hard to leave him, but you can do difficult things.

Forehead bent to yours, back warm in the sun’s decorous rays, a searing tear-laden kiss and you’re off. Turned back in your seat to see him recede in the distance until he’s a mere speck on the horizon as Nancy tugs you forward.

All the goodbyes had all been said, save one thing lodged in the depths of your throat. 

I love you. 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfiction #the kids aren't alright rosewaterandivy #modern!steve harrington #teacher!steve

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

An (incredibly long) "I want"-style song dedicated to the most unruly of trios: John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and George Harrison.

The setting is the late 50's – it's deliberately a bit of a mish-mash :-)

Lyrics below the cut!

John: Green Paul: Blue George: Purple P&G: Pink J&P: Red JP&G: Neutral Liverpool gave up on me the first day of preschool Teachers called me unruly cause I don't suffer fools And my aunt who says she can't believe I’d throw it all away Quarrybank, that school for cranks suspended me the other day

All those lads who quit this band to learn a proper trade Think that I don't understand the facts of getting paid But you both see, It's them not me, it's us and this here prophecy

Do you see us five years on – well Maybe three, that's sort of long As they're writhing for our songs And “Your group's on now, John "

Earning some preposterous wage Free of this less-town-more-cage As we enter center-stage In our gold disk age

And the birds will have to queue For a single peck at you Then, emboldened by the view Watch them molt on cue

And all we need is not to quit, They'll call us Great Britain's Newest stars, brand new guitars, guaranteed not to split

Picture us: the favourite band With a record deal in hand Going deaf from screaming fans As per my new masterplan

Where we going, fellas? Where we going? Where we going, fellas? Where we going? (To the topper-most of popper-most of popper, to the topper) To the toppermost of the poppermost!

I hear music in my head Wherever I go It's like it's bursting out my soul It's something I cannot control

Every night When I get home I watch dad roll his eyes "Heard of this thing called a comb? " I sigh as he implies That mum would be So unhappy and so disappointed in me

Meanwhile I can't drop this tune However inopportune There's a decade dawning soon Shooting for the moon

And John may seem unreasonable But his dream is feasible Sometimes yes, guess he's a gull I'll appease him though

And then I see how for we're come Joined, we're greater than our sum See, the rhythm's in the strum Of the guitars and then some

Playing my part in your vision, I'll Grab a pen, so much to discover Let's produce another Lennon-McCartney original

For the day he and John met And Yes George, I didn't forget! We become a matching set Writing tete-a-tete

Where we going, Johnny? Where we going? Where we going, Johnny? Where we going? (To the topper-most of popper-most of popper, to the toppermost) And where do I fit in? And when do I come in? Is there a spot for me at the To the toppermost of the poppermost!

I'm the youngest, there's no day when they let me forget But the part Paul will not say: I'm their safest bet See the fact is they don’t practice systematically like me I know my chord charts, strings, fretboard, parts of my soul, sorted by key.

Still the world is their playground And I am watching from the fence I can't yet jump with confidence But mum taught me about patience

I still feel Julia's arms around me every time I play What would my mum say? (She tells me) Anything I set my mind to  (She taught me everything) The heights I'll climb to (She wanted everything) My time soon Anything to prove I'm worth it (Wouldn’t approve) Move the earth, they'll learn…

I had to learn to be the only one believing in me And ever since she's gone, I can hardly stand it (Mum says I can stand it) No one understanding (Don’t quite understand it) The thing she saw in me

And dad, he just wants me to be practical She’d call me her rebel without applause and tell me Just keep making noise, always play in your own key I will wait patiently He may believe in me but not my choice They will have no choice but to love me

Where we going fellas? Where we going? To the toppermost of the poppermost!

Liverpool has no idea what’s coming Liverpool will never be the same They’ll put up posters of us Like on this truck John, that’s a bus! Put your glasses on, Jesus! And dad will be non-plussed when Walking down the street he’ll see John (John), Paul, George (George) of the… Johnny and the Moondogs… What! Definitely not. The Shoes! The Quarrymen… Nononononono, JaPaGe3!

Insert band name here.

Liverpool has no idea what’s coming Liverpool will never be the same When they all see us one as three the blasphemous song trinity.

Everybody’s bitching Where’s that old ambition That got you essay prizes and into the institute? I’m not a delinquent I’ve just been rethinking No one realizes I’m still just as resolute Just keep making noise Always play in your own key They will have no choice But to love me

Anything I set my mind to The heights I’ll climb to My time soon Anything to prove I’m worth it Move the earth They’ll learn from me.

Where we going, fellas? Where we going? Where we going, Johnny? Where we going, fellas? Where we going? (To the topper-most of popper-most of popper, to the topper) And where do I fit in and when do I come in? Toppermost of the poppermost.

#the beatles #beatles #you would not believe how much time went into this lmao #or maybe you would #GOOODNESSS #main-tagging this. I've Earned It! #also sry if the colours are fucked up it's tumblr's fault not mine I corrected this twice already #my voice #fiona.docx #fic #friends.jpg

[generalluxun]

Honestly its kind of funny in a tragic way that elements of bad/cruel behavior seen in Chloe can also be seen echoed in her parents but also in the fact this kind of makes her even more weirdly tragic because of how normalized it is to her.

Firstly there's just the general rudeness & disregard, her mother doesn't remember her name and belittles her constantly unless she somehow interprets a slight against Chloe as against herself. Chloe still adores her.

Like when she rips up Rose's letter to Prince Ali this is undoubtably a cruel thing to do, but its also very much how her own mother responds to her own gifts and Chloe still loved her & pursued her approval.

Then there's how her father and everyone around her is just OK with this or at worst does the most minimal intervention. "Darling you can't fire our daughter" like my gods, grow a spine Andre.

What this adds onto things for me is how this plays into how Chloe perceives her position amongst her peers.

Because she seems to oscillate wildly between "Everyone loves me" & being confused & upset when they don't. Or "being "Everyone hates me and I don't know why and or how to fix it".

Because to her this is just like... Normal behavior, it does hurt her, but she still loves the one's who do it so why wouldn't she also still be loved? At least it feels that way anyway, I'm honestly not sure, especially cos of how her self awareness and self image shifts a lot.

Honestly the only out of sorts thing we've seen her do that I don't think her parents have done to her was trapping Juleka in the stall. Which was indeed a really horrible thing to do & possibly the worst she does on her own? I kind of fell off around S3 so only vaguely know the rest of the outline & don't want to offer an opinion on it due to not watching. Plus even then the stall is still learned behavior as far as "Use force to get what you want" goes so its still taught behavior.

Yeah, Chloé has learned her behavior from her parents, clearly. Most of the learned behavior is from her father (She directly references him as her role model twice when doing bad things.) her mither is more about openly aping while not being too familiar with it.

The Juleka thing I am always torn on, because people overstate it so often. It was clearly a bad thing to do but Chloé wasn't *bullying* Juleka with a purpose. She wanted to be beside Adrien. The only reason Juleka got the lock was she was the one to go to the bathroom. Anyone else? They would have gotten the same. I fully believe Chloé would have locked the photographer in the bathroom, shoved a camera in the art teacher's hands, stuck herself by Adrien and had the picture taken if she could.

Chloé had no way of knowing(and probably wouldn't care but still didn't know) how badly being left out of a class picture would affect Juleka. It wasn't malicious in that way. Like, do people think Max was bullying Juleka when he raised his hand directly in front of her face in the old picture? 🤣

#ask #miraculous ladybug

[theseasasleep]

Story of Kunning Palace, E05 (semi-live reaction)

Of all the ways I thought Ning would handle the proposed slander against her beloved Zhang Zhe, the way she actually handled it did not align with my imaginings in the slightest. Sometimes what plays out is really better than the fiction in your head, hee. I did not see her calling out, not the dumb fiancee but the You-daughter. Nor did I foresee her half-drowning her in a jar full of goldfish.

FIERCE

Judging by the all the clips I have gorged on, this particular love line will be quite strong and trend for a while. Sigh. A decade plus of drama watching has whittled my patience for second lead to first lead love lines to whisper-thin nub but everyone keeps commenting on how amazing Zhang Zhe is so.... I guess the wait and watch won't be too grating.

...

I'm not sure I understand.

Zhang Zhe broke or bent his principles to help her on the oath that she'd become a good person thereafter.

Sometime later, Zhang Zhe is condemned to death for this.

Did he naturally get caught? Or did she deliberately sell him out? Was it more similar to the Yan Lin situation in which her people made moves without her knowledge and when push came to shove, she didn't make the necessary moves to upend the conspiracy for the sake of remaining Empress?

Whatever the case, it's clear Ning did many terrible things - some in ignorance, some in knowledge - to accomplish everything she achieved. I think she squared most, if not all of it with herself when weighing it against the ultimate end result... until Zhang Zhe ended up on the chopping block. I don't think she would have been able to write this sin off and once one stone in her ambitious bedrock was overturned, the rest likely came apart. It's why when she knew she was going to die she wanted her death to mean something, to be a reparation of sort to the only person remaining who might accept it because he thought she was worth something, because he's that good.

...

Oh. Oh. Look at the expression on his face as he listens to the patronizing, sexist drivel:

My scrumptious proto-feminist

...

LOL, he did a dignified catwalk and every lady in the room forgot to think and breathe!

I understand, ladies, I understand.

Geez, Ning, Xie Wei had them open a window for you, and only you, so you would have fresh air and bright light, to improve your mood and chances! Not to silently accuse you of being a potential cheat!

Wow, this is all up hill climb, my guy. Get your shoes with the best tread on, Xie Wei.

I know not a drop of Chinese and even I can see that's atrocious. And what did she draw in the corner. A flower? A dancing sun? A really fat, disproportionate hand with a vestigial finger?

And she asks, did she put too much effort into [failing]? Girl. It's so obvious she'd bring out the contrarian impulses of a saint. But maybe it's worth it since we get this face:

Teacher does not approve.

What I am enjoying so much in this scene is the action and counteraction. The way they each boldly challenge the other. She sent up an exam paper so abominable as to be a mockery [of him]; he passes her. She tries to expose her "stupidity" to the rest of the class; he threatens to critique the entire class, turning everyone against her idea.

point:

Counterpoint:

Concession:

Me:

...

I'm not even touching the "dementia." Rolling my eyes and moving on.

But, but, but... How was he so spot on?! How did he guess at reincarnation?! I mean, yeah, he said he doesn't believe in the supernatural but it can't be a coincidence to the narrative that he's the first to come closest to the truth?

Xie Wei: Ning, what's your relationship with Yan Lin? I NEED TO KNOW... *whispers* for science.

Oh, your father asked me to take good care of you in the palace... Yan Lin asked me to help you... By the by, that study partner list? Yeah, another ministry generates it but ultimately it has to run by me. The moment I saw your name I marked you for the palace. After going to so much trouble, it would be stupid of me to release you from palace duties now!

Xie Wei, be like:

...

God. I Hate Ning's Mom.

#post #tv show: story of kunning palace #teevee #cdrama #xue ning #bai lu #xie wei #zhang ling he #gif #references film: young frankenstein #references film: the little mermaid

[prodbyblush]

Kuina having a little sister? (around 19-15)

ｎｏｗ ｌｏａｄｉｎｇ …

▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 100%

ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ!

・❥・ requested

→ fem!reader

• she may nag you a bit but hey she means well. all kuina wants is for you to study and eat well. it stems from her pure love and adoration for you. • the sweetest and loving big sister! • though you're almost at the brink of adulthood, she'll always see you as her little baby sister! • likes to raid your closet as if it's an extension of her closet. • "mom, look at older sister! she's wearing my top!" • "mom, look at older sister! she's wearing my top!" she'd mimic you, sticking her tongue out before running away as you try to catch her. • your problems are her problems too! • accidentally killed someone? she'd help you hide the body. someone's making fun of you? she'd chop their neck. • listens to all of your high school gossip and dramas. • "today, naomi got her ass dumped by her boyfriend!" • "as she should! she's a two faced bitch! no wonder even her own boyfriend can't stand her!" • "my english teacher is getting married!" • "no way! is it with your math teacher or history teacher?" • helping each other do nails and exploring which skincare works best on your skin! • has a whole album on her phone dedicated to your ugliest angles, candid pictures and your pics turned memes. • is basically your second mother! • "i tried to make a new pasta recipe. can you try and taste it?" • supportive of what you want to do in life. always makes sure that you are happy and safe. • worries a lot when you're still outside and it's night. • worried about your future? don't know what you're exactly doing? afraid of what's to come? she'll sit down with and have the deep conversation. even if you're lost in life, kuina believes you'll figure something out with what you want to do and she'll be cheering for you. • if she approves of the person you're dating, you'll notice how kuina talks to them casually. if not, she'll look at them as if she can see all the sins they've committed in the past. • her main goal, as your older sister, is for you to be happy and always know that she has your back.

TAGS: @retrospacealien @chishiya-of-diamonds @boowoomuu @ang3liclov3ly @kenqki @shadowheads-shitshow @lunoxxy @supercoffeeblogs

#imawa no kuni no alice #imawa no kuni no arisu #alice in borderland #alice in boderland x reader #hikari kuina #kuina hikari #kuina alice in borderland #kuina fluff #kuina x reader #aib x you #aib x reader #hikari kuina x reader #kuina hikari x reader

[zykamiliah]

they didn’t say that a 20 y/o dating someone in their early 30s was pedophilia though? they said it was a power imbalance, and that it doesn’t disappear as soon as they are a legal adult. look, i enjoy svsss, but it’s true there is a mental gap. and a student pursuing a teacher doesn’t necessarily make the teacher’s reciprocation okay. i think there’s room for nuance here that neither you nor the other blogger is realizing

they were relating the feeling of weirdness they got from reading svsss to the power imbalance of a real life teacher/student relationship or actual pedophilia.

like i said, the power imbalance is part of the conflict in svsss and bingqiu's relationship. No one in this fandom believes they were the perfect soulmates from start to finish, Healthy and Unproblematic. But it's one thing that their dynamic was unbalanced and toxic because of the their misunderstandings and communications problems, and another entirely different what that other blogger was saying.

by the time binghe comes from the abyss, he has already grown into his own power and become a demon lord. when they meet again, sqq is not the one leveling his power against sqq, but the opposite.

here I talked about why i don't think bingqiu is toxic, if you'd like to read my analysis on it.

now, for the mental gap, what exactly are you saying here? Because if we're going to compare mental age gaps, we need to take into consideration that binghe and shen yuan are from different worlds, and that their upbringing was very different. lbh practically grew in the streets as an orphan before his adoptive mother took him in, and the he went back to that after her death, before entering CQM. shen yuan, on the other hand, grew with a loving family, was a rich and pampered young master and never had to go through the struggles that lbh went through: starvation, mistreatment, poverty, loneliness, being homeless and parentless, with no one to care for him or protect him. so really, between the two, who has more worthy life experiences?

okay, let's get at it from another angle. through the entire novel, and specially after the sqq's death, lbh is very honest with himself about his own feelings and thoughts. he knows his mind really well, even under the influence of xin mo. he knows how to manipulate dreams, after all. you could said that his most unhealthy habits are his codependency and the way he internalizes his self-hate, and the subsequent self-harm he does to his mind and body because of this. i'd say his most childish moments are in the Jinlan arc, where his actions contradict themselves, as he's both resentful toward SQQ and trying to win his approval at the same time.

shen yuan, on the other hand? emotionally repressed. he doesn't process his own thoughts and emotions and pushes everything under the surface. queerphobic. homophobic. deep in denial of his own queerness and gayness, oblivious to everything gay going own around him, runs from his problems, self-sacrificial to the detriment of his own well-being, so tsundere it backfires on him sometimes, unable to understand why someone like airplane would write shitty porn to pay the bills; even thought at his core he's kind to must people, he spends a great part of the novel being very vitriolic towards sqh. it's because he can't let go of his hatred towards the authors, who he partly blames for the bad things that happen to him.

taking all this into account, i really can't say what their true mental ages are, and if the gap is really that big, or if it really has such a huge impact on their relationship.

and a student pursuing a teacher doesn’t necessarily make the teacher’s reciprocation okay.

maybe you're right on this one, but are all cases of teacher/student relationships the same? must we, just as sqq did, ignore lbh's agency and own wishes and do what he thought was best?

there's thinking that teenagers under 18 have no way of making rational decisions when it comes to love and sexual attraction, and there's thinking that a 25 years old's agency in regards to who he wants to be with is meaningless.

#svsss #svsss meta #bingqiu #shen yuan #mention of queerphobia #mention of homophobia #zykamiliah-svsss #oh boy this got long

[diospore]

Color Wheel Meme except it's my MHA OCs

Version without effects under break, and also names and basic info.

Red

Nami Aizawa

Shota's middle-school-aged little sister. She goes to a normal school in Tokyo and lives alone, but he doesn't know she lives alone.

Quirk : Activation, her quirk forces any quirk within sight range to automatically and uncontrollably activate. Limited by her nearsightedness.

Orange

Akemasa Usamimi

I did a whole post about him but in summary, he's a UA hero student with a single father and a love for technology.

Quirk : Rabbit Ears, his antennae can control technology via signals they let off. Incredibly sensitive to interference and touch.

Yellow

"Prometheus" "AFA225220"

Also got his own post but in gist, he is a child experiment made from the DNA of AFO and All Might. He is used as an execution method and a way to control heroes under the HSPC.

Quirk : "Prometheus", An AFO variant with the ability to give and take quirks but their power is boosted upon being received. (IE. Small Objects Telekinesis -> Full Range Telekinesis.) However, the quirk taken can never be returned to the owner as the body rejects it and must be given to a new host. The user can't keep too many quirks either or he becomes ill.

Green

Akamu Midoriya

Izuku's estranged evil twin. This one was just a joke but I love him he is my evil son.

Quirk : Heat Sink, he is capable of altering the temperature of things he touches with his palms. He can transfer heat between objects and even build it up if he holds multiple. However, if he does too much, he will give himself a fever or chill and need to stop.

Teal

Yukuto Midoriya-Yuga

A child created during a quirk accident. Also a joke but I love him.

Quirk : Laser-breath, he can fire lasers from his mouth. His teeth hurt if he does it too much.

Blue

Homura Todoroki

Endeavor's secret lovechild-- created with a quirk in an attempt to get a new "masterpiece" during Shoto's rebellious not-using-fire period. He has multiple illnesses and does not have a quirk.

Purple

Usagi Shiro

Usagi : 卯沙伎 (卯 - Rabbit, 沙 - Sift, 伎 Art/Skill) Shiro/Shirou: 紫朗 ( 紫 - Purple, violet, 朗 - Cheerfulness)

The rabbit-heteromorph general education art teacher at UA. He's known for being incredibly cheerful and has a high approval rating among the public. However, he's kind've an oblivious idiot sometimes. Would unironically believe you if you tell him your dog ate your homework.

Quirk : Brain Trick, your basic telekinesis-telepathy mix. Works by using the electricity in the brain.

Pink

Kiryuu Senketsu

A normal guy with a demon quirk who is constantly mistaken for a villain by people around town. He hops from job to job as he gets fired quickly when complaints come piling in. Even his own sweet old grandmother thinks he is a villain, but she is weirdly supportive of it.

Quirk : Demon, he has the physical traits befitting a demon and can use basic "magic". Uses it for menial labor and to get the chips from the kitchen without having to wake his grandma up.

#mha #my hero academia #bnha #mha ocs #bnha oc #original characters #oc art #color wheel meme #dio's art tag

[levmada]

headcanons about how dad!levi would be with a pregnant s/o? i sent an ask about it before but some of mine haven’t being going through lol. although if you’re not comfortable writing about it that’s totally okay!!

nooo it's okay! tumblr def ate it<3 i woulda remembered getting an ask like that. n what a good premise...

at no other time is Levi more protective than when you're pregnant, even when you're sick. you might as well be his queen ok

when you first break the news to him?? he needs to stand there for a moment just to reel and ask if you're sure about two dozen times, not because he's unhappy (literally the polar opposite) but bc he can't believe it.

if the pregnancy was an accident, he would feel guilty - no doubt in my mind. i don't see him apologizing explicitly, not if you're glowing you're so happy, but it's entirely up to you what you want to do about it before he even thinks of giving his opinion (he is equal parts scared and thrilled).

he'd be trembling as he embraced you, already mindful of your belly that is the furthest thing from showing just yet.

as a prospective father, Levi's self-doubt would simply be crippling. the only father figure he had was less of a father and more of a teacher, and as harsh as they come given Kenny was a literal serial killer.

that 'What to Expect When You're Expecting' book would become his bible. he's at your beckon and call. your feet hurt? prepare for a full-body massage. feeling sick in the morning? he's shooting out of bed (c'mon, he was probably already up) and holding your hair, rubbing your back and brewing some ginger tea to help with the nausea. any cravings? he'll go as far as he needs to satisfy you, any store in the thirty mile radius; he even keeps a list of them.

it's how he compensates for how... useless he feels while you're going through it carrying his child. the highest of gifts you could give him. don't expect any less than Levi treating you like royalty.

as the months pass, Levi gets in the habit of stroking your belly, including at awkward moments, and especially when you feel the baby kicking. his eyes just blow wide, and he'll ask, sheepishly, "Can I...?" and when you nod, reluctantly press his ear to it.

no matter how far into the pregnancy, he can scarcely believe the life growing inside you, a combination of both you and him. and once again, Levi is hoping the baby takes after more of your traits than his.

he becomes a borderline bodyguard whenever you have to go out. to the point of annoyance he's asking how your feet are, whether you need to sit, whether you're hungry ("You're not the only one eating," he argues.), whether anything.

baby clothes, toys, he's seeking your approval when you're beyond the 8-month mark.

"Newborns don't need toys, honey," you laugh.

"But they will. It's better to be prepared," he states, his arms full of cradle mobiles.

he becomes a nervous wreck when your due date is a few weeks incoming. he takes off work, cooks the meals, cleans the house, and takes care of you most of all, worried that you'll go into labor at a time he's unprepared (he couldn't be more prepared).

and when you do go into labor, he's holding your hand. Levi is the picture of calm confidence, even at times when he wants to pace and tear his hair out, he's so nervous that something will go wrong. he's lost so much; what other reaction could he have...?

listening to you cry and moan in pain drives him crazy, and worst of all there's nothing he can do besides stroke your hair and praise how well you're doing.

when your newborn is nestled in your arms, finally, expect tears. Levi doesn't cry outright, but his eyes are wide and shiny, hands trembling as he pets your pasty hair away and gazes at his baby's sleeping face, because he falls in love immediately.

overall, just. expect the BEST when you're pregnant with Levi's child :(( he's so good to you, yk?

🏷️: @ackermandick | @midtwenties-angst | @sckerman | @halloweenmedic | @katty | @jayteacups | @notgoodforlife | @peace-for-levi | @chaotic-nick | @b-o-n-e-daddy | @levisbrat25 | @oh-my-bakura-akefia | @happybird16 | @svftackerman | @galactict3a | @s0levis | @rouge-variant | @sparkywrites25 | + link to sign up

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi ackerman x female reader #aot levi #levi.thoughts #dadvi

[fakeagatha]

Mrs Fletcher | Prof!Eve Fletcher x Fem!Reader

Chapter Three

A/N: For my own reasons, I got very inspired to continue writing for this series fic. I had already planned out the story, but I changed my mind a few days ago about how I want it to go, and what to include. Please let me know of any errors, and enjoy!

Words: 1055

TWs: Alcohol

Your mind was a complete blur as you woke up on the floor, your bed a mess. You knew Steve was with you, so you assume you must've sent him back to his dorm out of exhaustion.

You wondered why everything was fuzzy, until you noticed the bottles of wine on your desk. That explains it.

You have class, and your head was still hurting. Surprisingly, you didn't seem to be too hungover to the point you couldn't function, though you still can't miss out on your education that your parents are just barely affording. So, after finishing up in the bathroom, you took your things and left.

You smirked after realizing your first class was with Mrs Fletcher. Something inside you made you admit to yourself that in fact, maybe you do like her. It's a disaster of course, but can you control your feelings? Unfortunately not.

You entered her class and sat next to Steve, who also seemed to be in a bit of a state.

"When did you leave last night?" You mumbled.

He blinked, and simply shrugged, "I don't remember... Are you hungover?" He randomly added.

You grimaced in response "No, not really, I feel a bit tired, but I'm doing okay. You?"

"Same." He replied, scratching his head.

When your professor entered the room, you acted casual. Now that your feelings were confirmed to yourself, everything felt more real. Your eyes widened as she brought up the work that was due, but quickly relaxed after realizing you'd completed it a few days ago. You handed her your text book, and she smiled at you.

Eve's hand brushed yours as she took the book from you, and she blushed. She couldn't believe she felt this way about her student. She wasn't sure why, but you were different to her.

The conversation she had with Amanda the night before switched something on inside of her. She knew that she must remain professional, even though she was crushing on her student. It was very new to her, as this was the first time she had accepted any kind of feelings she had for anyone after Amanda, and Julian, literally being her son's old classmate.

Eve cleared her throat, holding her hands in front of her as she got everyone's attention.

"So, I have an exciting announcement to make..." She smiled softly to herself, "We've been approved for our yearly school trip to Europe!"

You gasped, your eyes shining slightly. You've been to Europe before, Germany specifically, but you've wanted to go again, you wanted to travel.

Eve took a breath, "We'll be going to Malta, and the cost is 400$, but that includes tax, as well as the sight-seeing and museum costs."

Everyone looked around at each other excitedly, already discussing their plans before Eve could even give them any more information. Eve lightly hit her desk with her palm to get everyone's attention again. "Can everyone who would consider attending raise their hand, so I can write their names down and let the principal know?"

In an instance, several hands went up, except for one or two students, who either weren't interested or were disappointed about the expensive cost.

You hesitated to raise your hand, since you weren't sure if you could cover the cost, though you did anyway, smiling when Steve did the same. Then, Eve interrupted your thoughts. "You might be wondering which professors will be joining you," Everyone went quiet to listen, "It will be me, of course, couldn't miss it," She chuckled, "Mr Rogers, Miss McDavies, and Miss Evanora." She bit her lip as a few students groaned at the last name.

You turned to your best friend, "Hey, a lot of teachers behave differently out of school, Evanora might not be that bad!" You whispered, and he shrugged, "I guess so, well, I hope so honestly. She's... quite the character." You both laughed quietly.

Then, after a few moments, you smirked to yourself. Eve is coming with you! You absolutely have to go now, you just can't miss this trip. Also, you've never been to Malta, and you haven't even traveled a lot before if anything.

Your parents were out of state, back in New York where you grew up. They both still work, and even though you don't usually like to ask for help, you figured that they both would be more than happy to help with the cost of your trip. You glanced back up at your professor as she spoke,

"Our flight is on..." She looked through a sheet of paper she was holding, "May 12th! So it's just less than three months from now." She nodded,

"Perfect! That gives both me and my parents plenty of time to gather the money!" You whispered to Steve, and he smiled "Yeah, same! We're gonna have an awesome time."

And you knew you would...

The rest of the day went by smoothly, to your surprise, and even some stricter professors were quite chill. After the day ended, you got the chance to call up your parents. Not only to ask for money, but also to check in on them, as you haven't spoken yet this week.

Both of them happily obliged, feeling happy for you and the opportunity to travel with your peers. You thanked them continuously, and after hanging up, you had to tell Steve that your parents agreed.

Y/N: Steve! My parents are helping me pay for Malta!

Steve: Just called mine... They said we can't afford it :(

Y/N: You're kidding, right?

You looked at your screen, watching the text bubbles reappear as he typed,

Steve: Lol yeah I am kidding. They're gonna pay half!

You rolled your eyes,

Y/N: You're an asshole, but I'm pleased we can both go.

You sighed, putting your phone down, and opening up your diary.

January 16th, 2019

Miss Fletcher just announced our annual school trip! I asked mom and dad for some financial help, and they agreed! Eve is coming with us, and that makes it all the more exciting! Miss Evanora is coming too, but me and Steve figured that she might be more laid back on our trip, unlike how she is in school. I already know, for my own reasons, that I'm going to have an unforgettable time in Malta.

#agatha harkness #kathryn hahn #eve fletcher x reader #eve fletcher #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #mrs fletcher