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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you��d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #marvel

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sleeperswakewriting · 3 years

Text

After Class

For @himebee-5's prompt!

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

Rated: E

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

Word count: 3.2k

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

She was distracting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh really? What do the reviews say?”

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

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

“See you next week, Professor!”

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Professor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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alyasgf · 3 years

Text

Private Tutor Adrinette April- Day 10 Tutor

Previous || Next || All

Summary-

Marinette hates Adrien. But who else is lining up to tutor her in Algebra 2 weeks before the exam?

Word Count- 1223

AO3

Begin

Marinette hates Adrien. But who else is lining up to tutor her in Algebra 2 weeks before the exam?

It all started with their second to last mock test. Marinette had been out fighting an akuma late the night before and hadn’t had a chance to study. Needless to say she got a 60%. Her teacher told her to either find a tutor or have her parents called.

Adrien was top of the class. That in itself peeved Marinette off. Especially considering had she had less responsibilities she surely could’ve gotten better grades.

She hadn’t liked Adrien since the beginning of the school year and she certainly wouldn’t start now.

Unfortunately, when Adrien offered to tutor her she had already been turned down by about half the class due to busy schedules.

“Y’know Marinette my dad wouldn’t mind you coming over after school weekdays for studying.” Adrien offered with a small smile.

Marinette wasn’t sure of what his angle was. Gain her trust and then spill all her secrets to Chloe? Find out her secret nutmeg allergy and use it against her? Either way she didn’t have a choice.

So when the final bell rang and everyone headed to the school gate, Marinette had no choice but to wait for Adrien.

“He’s not that bad Marinette.” Alya tried for about the 20th time. “Nino hangs out with him constantly. If he was trying to pull something he’d know.”

“Do you not remember how the first day of school went? He put a piece of gum on my chair. I caught him firsthand.” She huffed, sitting on a bench and looking around for the blonde.

“Maybe there’s some sort of explanation. That doesn’t sound like him.” Alya attempted to reason, knowing how stubborn her friend was. “All I’m saying is give him a chance. A fresh start. He might surprise you.”

“I doubt it, but its cute that you’re so positive.” She teased, tapping her friend lightly on the nose.

Just then she saw a sleek black car pull up and Adrien head towards it. He turned and waved her over.

“There’s my cue. I’ll text you if he decides to torture my secrets out of me.” She stood up and walked towards the car.

Adrien held the door open for her and she slid in without even a glance towards him.

“I’m so glad we can finally spend some time together.” Adrien said in a hopeful tone.

He almost seemed genuine. Still Marinette stuck to her resolve.

“This is for studying. It’s not exactly hanging out with a friend” She almost felt bad for that comment as she saw his face fall.

They were silent for the rest of the ride.

————————————

Most of the studying was done very businesslike.

Marinette would solve a problem, Adrien would tell her she did it wrong, and she would correct it. She would leave at 4:30 sharp without a goodbye and that would be that.

It went on like that for almost a week. By Thursday Adrien seemed to have broke.

“Marinette, why do you hate me? Everyone else gets to have such a loyal, brave, and amazing friend, and all I get is a cold shoulder.” He said once they sat down at his desk.

“Adrien, are you kidding me?” She replied astounded by his audacity. “You put gum on my chair on the first day of school and all you do is defend Chloe! How can I be friends with you? You’re just like her.”

“Actually Marinette, Chloe placed that gum on your seat. I was trying to take it off when you caught me. I know Chloe’s not perfect, not by a long shot. By she was my first friend so I wasn’t going to throw her under the bus. All I’ve wanted since the first day of school was to be your friend.” He finished, sighing and looking down at the floor.

“Oh.” Marinette too looked down bashfully. “I had no idea.”

“I’ve tried to tell you before, but you always managed to avoid me.” Adrien said quietly.

“God I’ve been such a jerk huh?” Marinette began to think back on how she had treated the boy for the last year.

“Something like that.” This time Adrien laughed a little.

That was a good start.

“Can I just say I’m sorry?” She now looked up at him, hoping to catch his eyes. “I’d love to be your friend if you gave me the chance.”

Adrien met her eyes. “I’d love that.”

After that their sessions became full of laughter and jokes. Everyone at school was surprised at Marinette’s sudden change of heart, but fully supported it.

Marinette even began to look forward to tutoring every weekday. She told herself it was because Adrien was such a good tutor. Still, she couldn’t help but notice how his eyes shone like emeralds in the light or how her skin heated up with every slight contact they made.

She also noticed the slips of his personality that always surprised her. She never would’ve expected him to enjoy puns so much, yet he couldn’t control himself every time the opportunity struck, meaning she couldn’t go a day without hearing one. Between him and Chat Noir, she couldn’t decide who was worse.

“Well I guess we only have 10 minutes left of our final tutoring session.” Adrien sighed leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms above his head.

Marinette’s eyes drifted to the sliver of skin that was exposed and just as quickly looked away blushing.

“Thanks to you I think I might actually stand a chance at passing tomorrow. I appreciate you offering to help me, no matter how rude I was toward you.” She replied sheepishly.

“Hey it’s no big deal. If it weren’t for this, we probably still wouldn’t have been friends. I’m gonna miss seeing you every.” He confessed.

“Well maybe we could hang out more? You can come over for pastries from the bakery any day.” She offered hoping he’d accept.

“Father wouldn’t like me eating sweets.” He began and Marinette’s face fell. “But what he doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.” Adrien finished with a smirk.

Marinette beamed.

——————————————

The next day, Marinette finished her exam with time to spare.

After about a week of waiting they got their scores back. Marinette got full marks.

She was bouncing in her seat with excitement. She only had one person in mind when she thought of who she should celebrate with. Unfortunately he didn’t have Algebra the same block as her so she’d have to wait until after school.

When she saw the tuft of blonde hair walking towards her, she sprinted and hugged him.

“I got a hundred!” She squealed into his ear.

He responded by spinning her in the air.

“Congratulations Marinette! I knew you could do it.” He laughed into her shoulder happily.

Once he put her down the smiles on both their faces were so wide they didn’t think they could grow anymore.

“Do you want to go get some pastries to celebrate?” Adrien asked, almost nervously.

“Are you asking me on a date Agreste?” She joked.

“Yes?” Adrien said as though it were a question. He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. He smile had dwindled slightly.

“Oh then um I’d love to?” Now it was Marinette’s turn to blush.

Adrien’s nervous smile disappeared and was replaced by another wide grin.

“Really?” He looked at her so fondly all her anxious thoughts immediately disappeared.

“Really.”

@adrinetteapril

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percysaysfuck · 3 years

Text

THREE OLD BITCHES KNIT THE SOCKS OF DEATH

I was used to the occasional weird experience, but usually they were over quickly. This twenty-four/seven hallucination was more than I could handle. For the rest of the school year, the entire campus seemed to be playing some kind of trick on me. The students acted as if they were completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Kerr—a perky blond woman whom I'd never seen in my life until she got on our bus at the end of the field trip—had been our pre-algebra teacher since Christmas.

Every so often I would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference on somebody, just to see if I could trip them up, but they would stare at me like I was psycho.

It got so I almost believed them—Mrs. Dodds had never existed.

Almost.

But Grover couldn't fool me. When I mentioned the name Dodds to him, he would hesitate, then claim she didn't exist. But I knew he was fucking lying.

Something was going on. Something had happened at the museum.

I didn't have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Mrs. Dodds with talons and leathery wings would wake me up in a cold sweat.

The freak weather continued, which didn't help my mood. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.

I started feeling cranky and irritable most of the time. My grades slipped from Ds to Fs. I got into more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her shit faced friends. I was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.

Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked me for the millionth time why I was too lazy to study for spelling tests, I snapped. I called him an old sot. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but it sounded good.

The headmaster sent my mom a letter the following week, making it official: I would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

Fine, I told myself. Just fine.

I was homesick.

I wanted to be with my mom in our little apartment on the Upper East Side, even if I had to go to public school and put up with my obnoxious fucking stepfather and his shitty poker parties.

And yet. . . there were things I'd miss at Yancy. The view of the woods out my dorm window, the Hudson River in the distance, the smell of pine trees. Id miss Grover, who'd been a good friend, even if he was a little fucked up. I worried how he'd survive next year without me.

I'd miss Latin class, too—Mr. Brunner's crazy tournament days and his faith that I could do well.

As exam week got closer, Latin was the only test I studied for. I hadn't forgotten what Mr. Brunner had told me about this subject being life-and-death for me. I wasn't sure why, but I'd started to believe him.

The evening before my final, I got so frustrated I threw the Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology across my dorm room. Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters doing one-eighties as if they were riding skateboards. There was no way I was going to remember the difference between Chiron and Charon, or Polydictes and Polydeuces. And conjugating those Latin verbs? Fucking forget it.

I paced the room, feeling like ants were crawling around inside my shirt.

I remembered Mr. Brunner's serious expression, his thousand-year-old eyes. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson. I took a deep breath. I picked up the mythology book.

I'd never asked a teacher for help before. Maybe if I talked to Mr. Brunner, he could give me some pointers. At least I could apologize for the big fat F I was about to score on his exam. I didn't want to leave Yancy Academy with him thinking I hadn't tried.

I walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of them were dark and empty, but Mr. Brunner's door was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway floor.

I was three steps from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question. A voice that was definitely Grover's said ". . . worried about Percy, sir. "

I froze.

Shit.

I'm not usually an eavesdropper, but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your best friend talking shit about you to an adult.

I inched closer.

". . . alone this summer," Grover was saying. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too—"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing him," Mr. Brunner said. "We need the boy to mature more. "

"But he may not have time. The summer solstice deadline— "

"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can. "

"Sir, he saw her. . . . "

"His imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that. "

"Sir, I . . . I can't fail in my duties again. " Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean. "

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now lets just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall—"

The mythology book dropped out of my hand and hit the floor with a thud.

Fuck.

Mr. Brunner went silent.

My heart hammering, I picked up the book and backed down the hall.

A shadow slid across the lighted glass of Brunner's office door, the shadow of something much taller than my wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked suspiciously like an archers bow.

I opened the nearest door and slipped inside.

A few seconds later I heard a slow clop-clop-clop, like muffled wood blocks, then a sound like an animal snuffling right outside my door. A large, dark shape paused in front of the glass, then moved on.

A bead of sweat trickled down my neck.

Somewhere in the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. "Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice. "

"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn . . . "

"Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow. "

"Don't remind me. "

The lights went out in Mr. Brunner's office.

I waited in the dark for what seemed like forever.

Finally, I slipped out into the hallway and made my way back up to the dorm.

Grover was lying on his bed, studying his Latin exam notes like he'd been there all night.

"Hey," he said, bleary-eyed. "You going to be ready for this test?"

I didn't answer.

"You look awful. " He frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Just. . . tired. "

I turned so he couldn't read my expression, and started getting ready for bed.

I didn't understand what I'd heard downstairs. I wanted to believe I'd imagined the whole thing.

But one thing was clear: Grover and Mr. Brunner were talking about me behind my back. They thought I was in some kind of danger.

The next afternoon, as I was leaving the three-hour Latin exam, my eyes swimming with all the Greek and Roman names I'd misspelled, Mr. Brunner called me back inside.

For a moment, I was worried he'd found out about my eavesdropping the night before, but that didn't seem to be the problem.

"Percy," he said. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's . . . it's for the best. "

His tone was kind, but the words still embarrassed me. Even though he was speaking quietly, the other kids finishing the test could hear. Nancy Bobofit fucking smirked at me and made sarcastic little kissing motions with her lips.

I mumbled, "Okay, sir. "

"I mean . . . " Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, like he wasn't sure what to say. "This isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time. "

My eyes stung.

Here was my favorite teacher, in front of the class, telling me I couldn't handle it. After saying he believed in me all year, now he was telling me I was destined to get kicked out.

"Right," I said, trembling.

"No, no," Mr. Brunner said. "Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say . . . you're not normal, Percy. That's nothing to be—"

"Thanks," I blurted. "Thanks a lot, sir, for fucking reminding me. "

"Percy—"

But I was already gone.

On the last day of the term, I shoved my clothes into my suitcase.

The other guys were joking around, talking about their vacation plans. One of them was going on a hiking trip to Switzerland. Another was cruising the Caribbean for a month. They were juvenile delinquents, like me, but they were rich juvenile delinquents. Their daddies were executives, or ambassadors, or celebrities. I was a nobody, from a family of fucking nobodies.

They asked me what Id be doing this summer and I told them I was going back to the city.

What I didn't tell them was that I'd have to get a summer job walking dogs or selling magazine subscriptions, and spend my free time worrying about where I'd go to school in the fall.

"Oh," one of the guys said. "That's cool. "

They went back to their conversation as if I'd never existed.

The only person I dreaded saying good-bye to was Grover, but as it turned out, I didn't have to. He'd booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as I had, so there we were, together again, heading into the city.

During the whole bus ride, Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the other passengers. It occurred to me that he'd always acted nervous and fidgety when we left Yancy, as if he expected something bad to happen. Before, I'd always assumed he was worried about getting teased. But there was nobody to tease him on the Greyhound.

Finally I couldn't fucking stand it anymore.

I said, "Looking for Kindly Ones?"

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat. "Wha—what do you mean?"

I confessed about eavesdropping on him and Mr. Brunner the night before the exam.

Grover's eye twitched. "How much did you hear?"

"Oh . . . not much. What's the summer solstice dead-line?"

He winced. "Look, Percy . . . I was just worried for you, see? I mean, hallucinating about demon math teachers . . . "

"Grover—"

"And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you were overstressed or something, because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and . . . "

"Grover, you're a really, really bad fucking liar. "

His ears turned pink.

From his shirt pocket, he fished out a grubby business card. "Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."

The card was in fancy script, which was murder on my dyslexic eyes, but I finally made out something like:

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

(800) 009-0009

"What's Half—"

"Don't say it aloud!" he yelped. "That's my, um . . . summer address. "

My heart sank. Grover had a fucking summer home. I'd never considered that his family might be as rich as the others at Yancy.

"Okay," I said glumly. "So, like, if I want to come visit your mansion. "

He nodded. "Or . . . or if you need me. "

"Why the fuck would I need you?"

It came out harsher than I meant it to.

Grover blushed right down to his Adams apple. "Look, Percy, the truth is, I—I kind of have to protect you. "

I stared at him.

All year long, I'd gotten in fights, keeping bullies away from him. I'd lost sleep worrying that he'd get beaten up next year without me. And here he was acting like he was the one who fucking defended me.

"Grover," I said, "what exactly are you protecting me from?"

There was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.

After a few minutes clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off. Grover and I filed outside with everybody else.

We were on a stretch of country road—no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On our side of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the other side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

The stuff on sale looked really fucking good: heaping boxes of bloodred cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks Id ever seen.

I mean these socks were the size of sweaters, but they were clearly socks. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn.

All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.

The weirdest thing was, they seemed to be looking right fucking at me.

I looked over at Grover to say something about this and saw that the blood had drained from his face. His nose was twitching.

"Grover?" I said. "Hey, man—"

"Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those socks would fit me?"

"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all. "

The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors—gold and silver, long-bladed, like shears. I heard Grover catch his breath.

"Were getting on the bus," he told me. "Come on. "

"What?" I said. "It's a thousand degrees in there. "

"Come on!" He pried open the door and climbed inside, but I stayed back.

Across the road, the old ladies were still watching me. The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that snip across four lanes of traffic. Her two friends balled up the electric-blue socks, leaving me wondering who they could possibly be for—Sasquatch or Godzilla.

At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.

The passengers cheered.

"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!"

Once we got going, I started feeling feverish, as if I'd caught the fucking flu.

Grover didn't look much better. He was shivering and his teeth were chattering.

"Grover?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you not fucking telling me?"

He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"

"You mean the old ladies? What is it about them, man? They're not like . . . Mrs. Dodds, are they?"

His expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling that the fruit-stand ladies were something much, much worse than Mrs. Dodds. He said, "Just tell me what you saw. "

"The middle one took out her scissors, and she fucking cut the yarn. "

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but it wasn't. It was something else, something almost—older.

He said, "You saw her snip the cord. "

"Yeah. So?" But even as I said it, I knew it was a big deal.

"This is not happening," Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. "I don't want this to be like the last time. "

"What last time?"

"Always sixth grade. They never get past sixth. "

"Grover," I said, because he was really starting to fucking scare me. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me. "

This seemed like a strange request to me, but I promised he could.

"Is this like a superstition or something?" I asked.

No answer.

"Grover—that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to fucking die?"

He looked at me mournfully, like he was already picking the kind of flowers I'd like best on my coffin.

Fuck.

#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson and the lightning thief #percy jackson and the olympians #PJO #Percy says fuck

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silentexplorer18 · 5 years

Text

Into the Viper’s Nest: A Jughead Jones Short

Summary: After finding herself in a life of trouble, a bright student steps into the viper’s nest, meeting some rather charming snakes.

Paring: Jughead Jones x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of being beaten and a few curse words.

Read it here on AO3.

Masterlist

You’d lived on the South Side for as long as you could remember. Although you didn’t want to encourage the prejudice the North Siders had against everyone on the “wrong” side of the tracks, you had to admit that your life on the South Side had been far from ideal.

Your father had been involved with the Ghoulies, mother scribbled out of the picture, and you learned that gangs were harsh, cruel things, not anything you ever wished to be involved in. But that wasn’t really your choice to make. At thirteen, your father had traded you to the Ghoulies to settle his debt, retaining his freedom at the cost of your own.

You weren’t a member of the gang, merely a servant to their whims. They kept you locked away from the world, trapped in a basement and schooled in obedience. However, that obedience was fear based, not based on your ethics. You didn’t believe in the Ghoulies, and knew wholeheartedly that what they did to the South Side was wrong. That didn’t matter, though. At risk of being burned, beaten, and/or cut, you practiced a silent obedience toward their harsh, unforgiving orders.

Typically, they kept you removed from the world. Although you went out on occasion, you spent three years of servantry primarily in a Ghoulie basement until they decided keeping you hidden wasn’t enough. They needed you for more jobs than that.

Apparently such a job was being a Serpent spy.

Of course, you were too timid to be a real Serpent, but they insisted that you needed to get close to the action in any way possible, utilizing your silence to gather intel for the gang.

You started school again.

Stepping foot into Southside High for the first time, it felt like the eyes of everyone in the world crawled against your skin like slimy cockroaches. You felt lost, alone, dirty. The Ghoulies would harass you in public as to “not blow your cover.” However, you knew it was really just another excuse to litter your skin with bruises and mind with hateful remarks. The Serpents didn’t approach you. They noticed your arrival to the institution, if you could even call it that, and the way you tried to avoid everyone. You were quiet, skittish even, in their eyes, nothing to waste time on.

But you were bright.

No one was prepared for that, neither the Ghoulies nor the Serpents.

You weren’t boastful of it at all, sitting toward the back of the class away from everyone else, bashful whenever the teacher called on you for an answer, always correct.

It was only a matter of time before your teacher informed you that you needed to get involved more with the other students, introducing you to Sweet Pea and Toni. They barely regarded you, and you only gave them a small, shy smile in return. When your instructor said that you would need to tutor them, your eyes grew wide at the thought, Ghoulies snickering behind you, knowing you’d gotten an opportunity into the viper’s nest. Toni and Sweet Pea scoffed, turning to march out the door, before the teacher’s harsh voice rang out. “If you do not get tutored by (y/n), we will hold the both of you back a grade. You will be repeating this class and several others next year.”

“That’s not fair!” Toni growled, Sweet Pea grumbling similar sentiments.

“I’m giving you a solution,” the teacher said, gesturing toward your trembling figure. “Take it,” she hissed before stepping out into the hallway.

Your eyes met theirs, round and saucer-like in terror. “Whyte Wyrm. After school. Don’t be late,” Toni spat, whirling around with her gangmate and slithering down the hall.

The Ghoulies left in the room surrounded you.

“Don’t screw this up, whore,” one spat.

“Yeah. You know the price,” growled another.

A few reached out, slapping your face and batting your head, reminding you that obedience was absolutely necessary.

After a few more hours of uneasy existence, you padded up to the bar, eyes tracing the door warily. Quite literally, you were about to step into the snake pit, and you were far from ready.

The door clicked as it closed behind you, the embroidered eyes of snakes on leather jackets greeting you. Without meaning to, you let out a shaky breath.

“Sit down over there,” someone shouted. Looking up, you saw Toni behind the bar pointing at a table in the corner. You nodded to yourself, settling softly into the shadows. Placing your mathematics textbook and copy of Pride and Prejudice on the table, you studied the scene before you. The room was dark, but lively and warm compared to the dank areas the Ghoulies would lurk around town. Booze and brawn rippled through the area as people chatted, played pool, and threw darts.

Eventually, Toni and Sweet Pea ambled over to you, eyes dragging your moth eaten clothes and skittish eyes. “So you’re gonna keep us from failing?” Toni addressed you. You nodded shyly before she continued, “This is Sweet Pea. I’m Toni.” She paused for a moment, staring you down. “And you are?” she drawled out in an annoyed tone.

“(Y/N),” you murmured quietly.

She nodded, pulling a book and some paper out for her and her less than studious counterpart. The night was rather awkward, you timidly explaining things they didn’t understand as they plundered through algebraic expressions and basic trigonometric equations. The rest of the week followed in a similar fashion, you arriving at the bar and explaining enough for them to pass without insulting their dignity too much, each night being beaten by Ghoulies for not retrieving any useful information about the rival gang. Hiding bruises and diagramming problems had become your two strongest skills, though, so you didn’t have much of a problem keeping the Serpents from becoming too suspicious of your unsuccessful spying. Earnestly, you were really beginning to like the Serpents; their gang proved to be almost homey in a way the Ghoulies never had.

Yet the rhythm couldn’t just continue as normal; life would be too easy that way. Eventually, the Serpent King himself had to stride into the bar. Only, sillily enough, you hadn’t the faintest idea who he was.

Toni and Pea had been working on a study guide for the latest exam, and, to be honest, they were doing really well. To pass the time, you were now nose deep in The Great Gatsby, eyes fluttering over Nick Carraway’s exhilarating adventure. Typically, you blocked out the idle chatter of the bar, but a clear, confident voice broke through your reverie. “Gatsby? Isn’t that a tad elementary?”

Your eyes drug up to meet his icy blue gaze, feeling your face pepper red in shame. “I didn’t get to read much where I used to live,” you said softly, glancing back down to the worn pages of the novel.

The boy arched a brow at you. “Where you used to live?” You nodded, eyes back to scanning the page again in an attempt to avoid his question.

“(Y/N), this is how you do this, right?” Toni asked, shoving the paper in front of your face.

Scanning the page, you nodded. “Make sure you carry your tens, though. It should be 62, not 52.” She let out a curse under her breath and continued working.

The dark haired boy smirked slightly before continuing his questions. “Where are you from?”

“Here and there,” you replied softly, avoiding his gaze.

Toni finished her paper, smacking it down on the table with a grin the size of the Cheshire Cat’s. “Done. Sweet Pea, you good?” He nodded, scratching down the numbers on his last problem. “Right in time for the meeting. Sorry, (y/n), you’re gonna have to leave. Official Serpent business only.”

You nodded, gathering your things carefully. “Monday, then?”

Needless to say, as your nervous figure slipped from the bar that evening before the meeting even begun, the Ghoulies took the weekend to remind you who you belonged to, fists and hot metal meeting your sensitive flesh as a reminder of your worthless behavior rang through your hot ears.

Things moved on in a fairly regular pattern, you helping the Serpents with their studies, and occasionally you and Jughead (you’d finally learned the crowned boy’s name) would discuss novels. You were surprised by his intellect, and he yours. However, there was something about you that he just didn’t understand. You were so shy, skittish. It didn’t matter if it was Toni or him or some stranger in the bar, you seemed to be afraid of everyone, jumping at sudden words or actions, eyes widening slightly every time someone entered the bar.

Yet the cool of Riverdale’s fall soon permeated the air, adorning the world with frosty, slushy rain. You’d been able to walk back to your residence, a makeshift box beneath a bridge near Sweetwater River, after being confronted by the Ghoulies each night. But tonight was different. The wind was howling, rain piercing the ground like bullets, and you were dreading the thought of going out in the cold. Of course, it wasn’t like you had much of a choice.

So after pulling on your backpack and wrapping your arms around your already frigid frame, you stepped out into the war of weather, trembling as you tried to push toward the storm.

You weren’t that sneaky, though. Although Toni had been too distracted behind the bar to notice you pad off into the storm, Jughead had not failed to notice your foolish escape. Pulling his leather jacket on, he marched out into the cold, jumping on his motorcycle and racing down the block to find you.

“What are you doing?” he shouted at you above the wind. Your eyes were wide as you gazed at him, lips already beginning to pale. You didn’t know what to say. Oh, you know, just going back to my box under the bridge where I’ll probably freeze to death unless I get killed by a Ghoulie first. What about you? “Get on!” he shouted again, handing you a helmet. You stepped near his bike, placing it on your head, but not clipping it.

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” you said back. If he hadn’t been listening closely, he wouldn’t have heard it over the deafening wind. But he did.

Reaching out, he clipped the buckle under your chin. “Get on.”

You never imagined to confront Jughead Jones’s home that night, but as his roaring motorcycle rumbled to a stop beside his trailer, you didn’t argue against his welcome inside from the cold.

Sopping wet and slightly frozen, he ushered you inside his house, pulling the door shut and locking it tightly.

Pulling off his beanie and shaking out his damp locks, he asked, “Where have you been staying?”

You looked down, not daring to make eye contact with him. “Don’t worry about it, Jughead. I’ll just wait for the rain to stop and then get out of your hair.”

“No,” he said a little more forcefully, “Where have you been staying?”

Your eyes met his, and embarrassment filled your chest. “Under Foxcole Bridge.” It was barely more than a mutter, but he heard it.

His first instinct was to be mad you hadn’t said anything to anyone, but standing there staring at your trembling figure, he knew there were more important things to rectify at the moment. Turning on his heel, he pulled an old shirt and some sweatpants out of his room as well as some socks, offering them to you. “Take a shower. You’ll be warmer.”

You stared at him warily for a moment, but the absolute numbness of your feet drug you from your position near his door into his bathroom.

Within twenty minutes, you had showered and dressed in his warm clothes, and Jughead had dried off his hair, changing into dry clothes and sitting down on the couch with his laptop.

When you emerged, curiosity drew you toward the boy whose hands flew across the worn keys. He didn’t look up to you at first, finishing the last few of his sentences before clicking his laptop shut and turning toward you. You’d sat next to him, eyes gliding over his every movement, but now it was his turn to survey you.

Devoid of makeup and clad in a tee shirt, he’d managed to expose the exterior you’d been hiding in the Whyte Wyrm. Bruises, cuts, and scars all littered your battered arms, revealing the truth behind your nervous behavior.

He moved cautiously, attempting not to scare you. “Who?” he queried, scarce more than a whisper, as he trailed a fingertip down your arm.

Realizing with shame your fatal mistake, you jumped, from the couch, turning away from him and wrapping your navy kissed arms around your figure. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

“No, no,” he said softly, rising from his seat. “I’m sorry. That was a little forward of me. Here, sit down. Let’s just talk.” You eyed him warily, but the invitation of a blanket soon lured you into a spot next to him, socked feet curled under your body. “What book are you reading now?” he queried softly, attempting to tread gentle ground to make you comfortable.

“Frankenstein,” you said softly.

He nodded. “Are you liking it?”

You smiled to yourself a little, finally glancing up into his eyes. “The scientist is kind of a whiny bitch, but the actual writing is really good.” He chuckled, a smile cracking on his own lips. “How is your novel coming?” you queried softly, earning a confused glance from him. “Toni said something about you liking to write. I just figured…” you gestured toward the laptop beside him.

He gave you a reassuring smile. “You’re more astute than I gave you credit for. Actually, yeah it’s-” His words were broken off by a sharp banging on the door. You looked at one another warily as he got up to answer it.

He cracked the door open slightly, two dark eyed Ghoulies gazing back at him through the cold, one obviously drunk. “Where the hell is (y/n)? We saw her leave the Wyrm with you,” one spat, the other glaring at Jughead menacingly.

“I dropped her near the bridge. Said she’s been staying out there for a few weeks now, camping or something,” Jug said gruffly, glaring right back. “What do you want with her?”

“She belongs to one of ours,” the drunk Ghoulie spat back.

Jughead scoffed. “Then maybe you should find her before she freezes to death.” With that, he slammed the door, turning the bolt to lock it, and silently ushering you into his room away from the windows.

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” he asked softly, sitting across from you on his bed. “Those were Ghoulies at the door.” Your eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but notice the way you uneasily glanced toward the living area again, terror flashing across your face. Your fingertips curled around your arms, wrapping yourself in a small layer of protection, though you knew that the Ghoulies entering the trailer would make said protection worthless. His eyes followed yours, glancing back to your worried figure. “Will they hurt you?” You avoided his gaze, but nodded, letting your hair fall in front of your eyes. “Would they try to break in to get to you?” You’d barely finished nodding before Jughead was up, yanking his phone from his pocket and dialing.

Within a half hour, the trailer was full of snakes. They milled around for a while, conversing and planning what to do. Toni sat on a chair in Jughead’s room, you snuggled into his sheets. She was telling you something or other about how the Serpents took care of their own, how the Ghoulies wouldn’t be able to get to you, but as your eyelids began to slowly droop, lulled by the comfort of a real bed, Toni slid from the chair, reuniting with the snakes in the hall.

They were taking shifts guarding the door, the rest forming sleeping bodies curled on chairs and the floor. When you awoke, startled from the roar of thunder through the thin walls of the trailer, it was an ungodly hour. Frightened from the dark and unnerved by your surroundings, you rose from Jughead’s bed, padding gently down the carpeted hall. You found a den of sleeping snakes, Jughead sat on the floor, raw eyes staring at the front door. His body was illuminated by the television, flickering white light across his glossy Serpent jacket and dark shocks of hair. The sound wasn’t on, and the snores of Serpents littered the room.

“Jughead, what are you doing up?” you whispered softly, kneeling beside his stiff frame.

“Keeping watch. No Ghoulies are getting in. You’ll be safe.” His eyes never left the door, and his diligence brought a small smile to your lips.

“You need to rest.”

He rolled his eyes, but it only accentuated just how dark the bags under those oceanic orbs were.

You didn’t know Jughead that well, and you could feel shyness bubbling up in your chest, but you were determined to make this right. He was sacrificing too much for you. “The Ghoulies are too dumb to try to break in at this hour, Jug,” his eyes flickered to you at the use of his nickname, “Besides, I can keep watch while you get some rest. You’ve done enough for me. Tomorrow morning, I’ll leave and everything will go back to normal.” Your voice caught at the end of the sentence, and though you tried to mask the fear that caused your voice to waver, Jughead could see right through it.

“No. You’re staying, (y/n). You’ll be safe here. I’ll protect you, we all will.” His eyes had left the door, fixated on you as he gently reached for your arm. “I don’t know what normal is, but I have some guesses, and you’re not going back to any of that.”

His action of comfort was empowering, and you gave him a gentle smile of encouragement. “Then come protect me in the bedroom? I don’t like the loud noises,” you said, gesturing toward the window shyly.

With a sigh, he rose, triple checking the locks before stepping over dozing snakes on the way toward his room.

He tried to sit down on the chair Toni had occupied earlier, but you grabbed his arm, yanking him from his position and pulling the stiff jacket from his exhausted figure. He attempted to object, but after some prodding, you were able to get him into his own bed. You climbed in with him, the air chilly in the trailer despite the influx of bodies littering the floor.

You were facing one another, his eyes already drooping as you jumped, the thunder reverberating loudly around you. As tired as he was, he still managed to notice you jump, gently placing a comforting arm around you. “You’re safe,” he murmured. “The Ghoulies won’t try to break into the snake’s den.”

You hummed, letting yourself fall back into a peaceful slumber in rhythm with the Serpent leader’s slow breathing.

You woke to the pale gray of morning filtering through Jughead’s thick blinds. Your back was to his chest, his arm protectively around your battered frame. He was so warm, so safe compared to the life you’d always known, and you felt yourself slowly realize how happy Jughead Jones could make you feel.

He shifted awake, mumbling an apology and going to pull his arm away. You rolled over to face him. “It’s okay,” you whispered back. “It’s nice.”

He almost went to argue with you that it would be kinda creepy were it not him, a vaguely familiar boy holding you while you sleep, but then he realized that you probably hadn’t gotten that much affection in a while if the Ghoulies were the ones blossoming your skin with blue and violet bouquets. Laying there amongst the early hours of the morning and staring into your lovely eyes, he realized that was something he needed to address.

“Listen, (y/n), I have to ask,” he began gently, “can you tell me what’s been going on? I want to help you, and I will,” he reassured, “but I need to know what we’re dealing with here.”

You took a shaking breath, momentarily unsure if you should tell him you “belonged” to the Ghoulies, before divulging the words you’d never imagined you’d say to another living person, eyes glossing over at the quivering tales of your family, the Ghoulies, your eventual befriending of the Serpents. By the time you had finished, tears were slipping from your eyes, and you tried to quickly wipe them away, but Jughead still saw them. Reaching forward, he said softly, “Can I hug you?” You nodded, and within seconds were pulled against the soft tee shirt, arms enveloping your world worn figure. “You’re gonna be safe here. No more Ghoulies. Not ever.” He rubbed your back soothingly for a while before you pulled back and noticed his glossy eyes. You didn’t have to ask why; he could see the question in your eyes. “I’m just sorry I didn’t notice. That’s why you were so eager about going to the Wyrm, wasn’t it? To get away from the Ghoulies? And the books, that’s why you were so excited about the books.” He sighed. “I’m just so sorry I didn’t realize what was going on.”

You shook your head, the fervor pulling him from his guilty reverie. “No, Jug, don’t be. You weren’t meant to notice. It would have been worse if you had.”

He gave you a sad smile, pulling you back against his chest gently. “But I know now. I promise, I’m never letting anything bad happen to you again.”

And lucky for you, Jughead Jones found himself exceptionally skilled at keeping promises.

A/N: Thank you for reading my story! Let me know what you think, and feel free to shoot any suggestions or requests my way! I hope you’re having a lovely day.

#jughead x y/n #jug x reader #jughead jones x reader #jughead jones #forsythe pendleton jones iii #jug #serpents #riverdale serpents #riverdale #ghoulies #toni #sweet pea

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real-pcy-exo · 5 years

Text

Baekhyun x reader (superpower au, fluff)

A/N: Never wrote a superpower au before. Hope you guys enjoy it!! (´(エ)｀)

Almost all the other kids from your class had already left with their parents but yours were late just like usual. The elementary school was not that big but had a pond in the back. Usually students were prohibited from going there but jokes on them, you still struggled to read so you ignored the signs. Going near the pond you took a rock in your hand and crushed it turning it into butterflies. It was something you discovered that you can do few weeks ago. But none of your friends could do it so you thought if you told anyone, they might think you're a weirdo. You didn't want your parents to be disappointed in you for being weird so you told no one about this. Since you could basically crush anything into butterflies, rocks were your favorite. Because the rocks in front of the ponds were so ugly but turned so beautiful when they became butterflies.

You didn't realize that a kid found you going towards the pond and followed you there. "Woah!" A kid exclaimed behind you making you look back to find the most mischievous boy in your class, Baekhyun. "Do it again! Do it again!" He kept requesting while you tried to shush him. "Don't yell please." you said, "Teachers will find us here."

"But Baekie wants to see more butterflies."

"Do you like butterflies Baekie?"

"No, I don't. They are also insects, my mom told me so. Insects are scary." You looked at him confused, "Then why do you want me to make more butterflies?"

"Because you look really pretty while making them."

"But you don't like them."

"But I like you!" You blushed, "Yah punk! You better not tell anyone about this."

"I won't if you won't tell anyone about my secret."

"Stupid Baekie, you didn't tell me your secret." He chuckled before coming closer to take your hand and lead to a classroom. He made you stand in the middle of the classroom and stood in front of you. "Look at my hands!" He wiggled his fingers in front of your face then held your hand. "Yell 'come' when you want me to turn on the lights and 'go' when you want me to turn them off."

"Silly Baekie, you're standing here with me. How can you turn the lights on or off?"

"With my superpower! Try it, go ahead."

"Come!" To your surprise, the lights flickered on by it self. "Go away!" And the lights turned off again. "Are you really doing this Baekie?" You asked the boy. He had his eyes closed with determination written all over his face and a small pout in his lips. He opened his eyes and looked at you, "Yes! Don't judge my ability. I can control light with my mind like a magician."

"He can!" You jumped at another voice coming from behind you. Chanyeol, Baekhyun's best friend who could also be considered a brother from another mother for Baekhyun. "Don't worry, Yollie knows my secret. He is a dragon that's why!" Baekhyun had exclaimed with a loud voice only to be shushed by you. "Chanyeol, what does Baekie mean by a dragon?" The said boy came forward and stood beside Baekhyun with a shy smile. "I can control fire." He said in a tiny voice, "But mom always said fires are dangerous so I don't do this often." He put his hand in front of you and slowly a fire started to appear out of nowhere. "Yah yah yah Yollie you're being really cool but don't impress her more than me. I like her!" Chanyeol just smiled taking back his hand after making the fire disappear, "Don't worry Baekie. I only want to be her friend." You took Chanyeol's hand with your free hand, "We can become superheros when we grow up! The three of us!" You were smiling and jumping while Baekhyun was explaining Chanyeol that you were special just like them.

"Everybody freeze!" Few men in black cloths and masks came in a bank with heavy guns. Screams and cries for help erupted through the small building and panic started to spread. Few moments later those men were able to push everyone down on the floor and begin looting the bank. Suddenly a window was crushed and butterflies were flying everywhere distracting everyone from what they were doing. "Prepare for trouble!" A young boy screamed while jumping into the building followed by another young boy screaming, "And make it double!"

"Guys no! Act natural! NATURAL!" A girl kept saying while following them inside. They looked like three highschool students in some cheap Halloween costume. "Do you kids have death wish?" one of the armed man asked them annoyed watching three kids dressed up in red, blue and green similar to the powerpuff girls costume. "We're not kids!" The shorter boy in red replied, "See X right here who is really beautiful and also my girlfriend so hands off, has a full proof back story of us that should be adapted by Netflix." The taller boy made a face at that, "Dude no. They'll add unnecessary stuffs and 18+ things. Unlike us who like to keep things PG."

"Maybe because we're still underage?" The girl sassily replied with her hand resting on her hips. One of the armed man came forth and started shooting on the roof, "Yo slut, get your boyfriends to shut up!" That triggered something within the two boys. The shorter one had a murderous face that could have been seen even through the mask. "Did you just call my girlfriend" he slowly stepped forward while speaking, "A slut?" The taller boy rested his hand on the said boy, "B, let's not get violent. You don't play fire with fire. Then nothing will be left but ashes." Meanwhile the girl crept away and hid behind a counter. "Team Rocket blasts off at the speed of light! Surrender now, or prepare to fight!" She yelled out. The boy in red grinned and waited for few seconds to see if anyone surrendered before the inside of the building turned pitch black. The only thing that was visible was the taller boy in blue with fire in his hand. He kept waving his hands around as if he was doing something big. On the other hand, the girl put night-goggles on and started working. She went in front of every armed man and put slight pressure on their weapon turning them into butterflies. In pitch black seeing a guy with flames doing fancy stunts while they're weapons were disappearing and they couldn't see what was flying around scared them. The armed men soon became weapon less and the three teenagers left the scene sneakily not to get caught by any police and left the men for the authorities to handle. While leaving, the boy in red looked back and yelled, "The day is saved, thanks to the powerpuff girls!"

"B, no!" The other two had screamed in disappointment.

The scenery of sunsets were always really beautiful. Specially when you had people you cared about around you. On your left side, your boyfriend was munching down his sandwich with such enthusiasm as if it was his last meal. He had his mask off, making him really seem like just another teenage boy cosplaying. On your right, your best friend who was your boyfriend's best friend at first but kinda became both of your brother of some sort. He was looking ahead of him lost in his thought. "Yollie, why does Baekie always call me X while being on a mission?" Baekhyun still giving all of his attention to the sandwich in his hand left you two to talk. Chanyeol thought for few seconds before looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "See Baekhyun being Blossom, he is sweet and spice. He can be serious yet playful at the same time. I'm Bubbles, I'm everything that is nice. That's where you come in. The chemical X that has the power, the sole thing that made us special. Together, we're the powerpuff girls!" Chanyeol bumped his fist in the air at the end. Finally finishing the sandwich, Baekhyun joined the conversation, "Also because the k-pop band CBX. We have C and B but we needed the X. So you're the X." You sighed at tactics of the boys. "First we're team rocket, then the powerpuff girls and now a Korean boyband? What's next?" Baekhyun hummed, "Don't know yet. We'll swing it." Chanyeol laughed at that, "Did you know Baekie over here cried watching that Swing Kids movie?" Baekhyun gasped dramatically, "Why are you making me look like a crybaby in front of my girlfriend?"

"Because she already knows you're a crybaby Baekhyunnie." Chanyeol mocked back.

Chanyeol had to leave early because of an algebra exam the next day. Baekhyun being a self proclaimed gentleman decided to walk you home. "Hyunnie, do you think I love you?"

"Well young lady, let Dr. Byun ask you some questions." You giggled out a small "Okay."

"Does your heart beat fast when you're with me?"

"So fast it feels as if I'm in a race!"

"Do you feel jealous when other people hog up my attention?"

"A teeny tiny little bit of a green monster called jealousy does accompany me within me at those times."

"Do you like spending time with me?"

"Now that is debatable."

"Yah! What do you mean?"

"Just kidding! I love spending time with you."

"Well then I have to diagnose you with the ol' disease 'in love with Baekie' then." You scrunched your nose, "Oh no doctor! Is there any cure for this?"

"I'm afraid no. You're in for a lifetime." You laughed along him, "I wouldn't have it any other way my dear Baekie." Baekhyun suddenly let go of your hand and held his jaw while groaning as if he was in pain, "Ugh my teeth!" You got worried and became frantic because he was okay even moments ago. "What happened?" You asked him, "Do we need to go to the dentist right now? Talk to me!"

"No no. My teeth hurt because of cavity caused by my girlfriend's sweetness." You punched his shoulders weakly, "Yah punk! Don't scare me like that. Ever!" Baekhyun just smiled and hugged you knowing you secretly liked his antics. Whole holding your hand, he walked you back to your home. You kept complaining about classes, exams etc. Nothing out of ordinary as if you both were not a part of a superhero team with the town's safety in your shoulders. Right then and there, you both were just two young kids madly in love with each other. But just like you, Baekhyun wouldn't have it any other way.

#baekhyun drabble #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun x you #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun oneshot #exo fluff #exo fanfiction #exo drabble #exo #exo oneshot #byun baekhyun #baekhyun #exo boyfriend #exo bbh #exo byun baekhyun #exo baekhyun #exo blurb #bbh-net

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the-amazing-spider-bi · 5 years

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Prompt: Write a scene about the Hargreeves as children, please! (Vanya is my favorite, please include her too)

hi anon!! thank you so much for prompting me anon that is so so so nice!!!!i almost had no idea what to write until i remembered that the Hargreeves canonically went to school since Allison got into the soccer team and like… iconic. where’s the breakfast club au. anyway i’m not sure this is was you wanted but here it is anyway (or on ao3 if you like that better)

As Vanya and Five talked about extensively, her sitting under his bedsheets with crossed legs and a flashlight, they couldn’t understand why Dad insisted on making them attend middle school.

He insisted even though he didn’t approve on any of their friendships with the other kids - not Five and Vanya’s, of course, who had no friends because Five didn’t like people and Vanya was as painfully shy as she was terrible at small talk, but the others who were better than them at talking to people. He insisted even though Pogo, Grace and he could certainly teach them better than any of the people employed there. He insisted even though all the parents kept protesting due to that time a supervillain tried to murder them in their Algebra class and ruined everyone’s grade on their finals. (Five thought they were just bad at Maths. Vanya stuck through the worst of it and got a passing grade. God, he got a B+, and he was fighting the supervillain for, like, half the exam.)

Dad, of course, didn’t care much for soccer parents’ opinions, or activities for that matter - he had never been to any school event in his life, which the other parents disapproved of in hushed tones in between glasses of mimosa. In his own words, their kids were no more unsafe from supervillains than from lone gunmen and it wasn’t like the government was doing anything about the later, so why should he? The world was dangerous, and you could die any day, they should just get on with their lives, pay for some self-defense classes for their brats, some Maths tutoring while they were at it, and stop bothering him.

And that was how they got stuck in assembly, which was the single most useless thing on Earth, in Five’s opinion. (Vanya had started listing useless things to pass the time as they ignored the speech in front of them: man’s tailbone, mosquitoes leaving bites when they sucked your blood, ties, itchy sweaters, sporks. Five only corrected her accurateness for some of those.)

So it was here, in the middle of the hall, as everyone else in school sat there on uncomfortable folding chairs that made Five’s back hurt like an old man’s and pretended to pay attention, Klaus gasped dramatically and pointed at Vanya.

That in itself was not an unusual occurrence: Klaus, after all, did everything in a dramatic way, and was known to be rude to his siblings, and so Five decided to do what he did best and ignore him.

Klaus, on the other hand, would not let himself be ignored.“Five!” he called out.

“That’s my number, yes,” Five answered, refusing to turn around, and Vanya hid her smirk by ducking her head.

“Five,” Klaus insisted, and he grasped his hand. Five stole it away quickly, because his siblings and him were twelve now, and they didn’t do silly things like holding hands, like babies.

Klaus pouted and tugged at his sleeve and repeated: “Fiiive.”

“This could go all afternoon, you know,” Vanya pointed out, still pretending she was not smiling. She was right, of course. Vanya often was, and this was why she was his favorite.

In that case, she was especially more so than usual, since they were hiding in the back of the room pretending to listen to some weird lady with homemade puppets who had been invited to the assembly for mysterious purposes. Allison was on another corner of the room openly laughing with some of the other girls, but no one was going to bother her for not listening, because she was class president and popular and also could make people do whatever she wanted anyway. Luther was sitting behind her and falling asleep on Diego’s shoulder, about five minutes away from being violently shoved away - Five was watching them with riveted eyes waiting for the inevitable disaster, and Vanya pretended to think he was being terrible but also watched as if she was at the movies.

Klaus, on the other hand, was sitting with Ben right behind them, and not content with being quiet until the lady stopped talking about bullying and the dangers of cliques.

“She is right, you know,” Klaus pointed out, useless. “I am nothing if not persistent. In fact, one could say this is my real power right here.”

“Being a pain in the ass?” Five supplied, enjoying a little the way Vanya squirmed uncomfortably at the swear word. She was such a goody-two-shoes.

“Yes. That’s how I beat the Magician, you know - I just kept talking and talking and talking and talking and-”

“He threw you out?”“No, actually, he tried to kill me and set off his own trap, but you know,” Klaus shrugged. “Anyway, as I was, in fact, saying,” he inhaled before bellowing: “Fiiiii-”

Vanya clamped a hand over his mouth fast, shushing him in panic. The teacher shot them a dark look. Five did his best to look innocent (unconvincingly), and she froze like a deer in headlights, sheepish as she almost always looked. Klaus didn’t even care, and instead licked Vanya’s hand, prompting a disgusted eww and her taking it off and pouting as she wiped it on her blazer. She didn’t punch him, because she was Vanya and she didn’t shove her siblings nearly as much as they shoved each other, so Five took it upon himself and kicked his chair. The teacher decided to move on. A wise woman.

“Stop being a jerk, Klaus,” Ben said absently, turning the next page on his book. He had taken it out about five minutes into the speech and had not been reprimanded by any teacher, because he was everyone’s favorite, and rightfully so, but still - unfair.“

Thank you so much for the help, Number Four,” Five said.

“You’re welcome.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I know.”

“What did you want to tell us, Klaus?” Vanya said in a whisper that was very much like a plea.

Klaus pouted. “He’s not even listening to me.”

“When am I ever?” Five said before he added when Vanya narrowed her eyes at him: “What is up with you then, Klaus?”

“Loads of things,” Klaus said most unhelpfully. “I have a very fascinating life and I’m full of insights.”

“No he doesn’t,” Ben interrupted.

“What do you know about it, tentacle boy?” Klaus snapped, but Ben only smirked. “Anyway, I was thinking-”

“Dangerous pastime,” Five said. Vanya chuckled quietly.

“-because, you know, I was sitting right behind you, and I was trying not to pay attention to creepy puppet lady because I met her eye and I swear to god she winked at me-”

“In your dreams, maybe,” Ben quipped.

“-which is scandalous since I’m saving myself for our Lord and savior Jesus Christ, thank you very much. Who are they even letting into our schools these days? God, everything is falling apart. Anyway, as I was saying… What was I saying?”

Vanya rolled her eyes so deeply Grace would warn her about getting stuck like this, and Five tried not to laugh at the face she made.

“Yes! Five. Right,” Klaus began again. “I was looking at your backs, and, lo and behold! You finally grew taller than her. Hurray! Can I get some applause for our little brother over here? I feel like we should applaud.”

Five turned to Vanya so fast he might have gotten whiplash and - for once, Klaus wasn’t lying. He was taller than her, for the first time since forever. Not that Five cared about petty business like that, except for how he did and he couldn’t shake the elation as his sister glanced up and down at him and grimaced in displeasure. (She used to be taller than all of them before they turned ten and Luther, Diego, Allison and Klaus started outgrowing her. Five and Ben still trailed behind. It was becoming embarrassing.)

Even then he just shrugged lazily and said: “Yeah, and?”“Come on, you can’t pretend you’re not happy about it.”

“Unlike you, Klaus, I don’t care about your nonsense, because I’m not a baby.”

“We’re literally all the same age,” Vanya pointed out.

“I was obviously talking about a metaphorical baby.”

“Well, you’re a metaphorical jerk,” Klaus said, trying very hard not to sound whiny even though he totally was.

“Oh, that’s very clever-”

“Guys,” Vanya complained. “If you don’t stop talking so loud the teachers are going to yell at us-”

“So what? What are they gonna do? We saved this city, like, three times,” Klaus said, propping both his arms behind his chair lazily and starting to rock it.

“I didn’t,” Vanya said, voice very small and entirely too bitter for a twelve-year-old.

“I’m so sorry, but that sounds like a you problem,” Klaus said, shrugging.

At that, Vanya looked down and bit her lip and sat very still on her chair. Ben elbowed their brother in the ribs with a disapproving frown, which was probably meant, as Five would reason later, to prompt him to apologize to Vanya for hurting her feelings so callously, but only made him yelp very loudly in the middle of the hall and fall from his rocking chair in a tumble of lanky limbs.

Somewhere on the other side of the room a very similar yelp and a very similar tumble of limbs echoed just as much as Luther was violently pushed off Diego’s shoulder and woken up from his nap.

The silence that followed this was very, very heavy on Five’s back, the only sound Vanya popping open her pill bottle - then looking up at Five with a gasp and a guilty look. Maybe it was because of the other kids craning their necks to see Klaus and Luther lying on their back in improbable positions. Maybe it was the puppet lady pausing her show for them. Maybe it was the calm before the teacher fell down on them with a hand too tight on their biceps and a snarl.

Anyway, even as their teachers berated them with threats of detentions they wouldn’t dare give out, Five couldn’t help feeling giddy. He was, after all, finally taller than Vanya.

Of course, years and years later, he would learn that Vanya would be forever stuck at her twelve-year-old height and that every one of them would grow up to tower over her. Still. It was nice at the time.

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cispicious · 3 years

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JUNE 2, 2011

Hey there. I doubt (people will read this) that journals are supposed to be used for advertising, or propoganda about oneself. I'm guessing it's what normal journals are used for: to document the day to day trials of human life. Yea, but I'm not human. So I guess my definition of a journal shall be, "Trials of a Nephal" If you don't know what a Nephal is, ask God. Oh, and in case you're far too lazy - or just don't care about my looks - to go check my pictures, I can give you a short description right here: * I'm the same height as Taylor Momsen, my favorite celebrity. <3 * [redacted because holy shit this was bad] * I'm Jamacain and Scottish, and my hair is a sort of red-brown-blonde color. * [redacted because holy shit this was bad] So, are you looking for a biography of my life? I'm not sure I want to type that much. I guess I'll summarize it and make it even less of a biography by telling you things about myself:

I was born on January 2nd, 1996 in New York. I moved down to Florida with my family when I was 12, and have been here fro three years. (Can you calculate my age?) I'm bisexual, but I lean more towards girls. I may [redacted because holy shit this was bad]. My life revolves around music and sarcasm. My English 2 Honors teacher wrote in my yearbook to never forget the essence of my spark. Lol, no. My teacher's not Taylor Swift. She actually told me to never lose my sarcasm, and who am I to defy a teacher? .... I like to think that I'm humorous enough to start a YouTube webshow, but even though I have an HD Camcorder, I can never find the willpower to do such things. Maybe because I'm really sensitive and insecure, and I doubt I can take the hate comments....right. Anyway. People think I'm a player because of the rather extensive list of people I've been with. Honestly, I used to be a player. I've only been turned down once in my life, and only God knows why. Because it can't be my dashing good looks or humble personality, right? Oh my, looks like I've hit the irony button again. I'm actually in love right now, and I can't tell you who, just in case you jealous bitches go on a rampage.

Anyway, shall I post about my day? I'm in 7th period - Speech and Debate - right now. My friend Barbara and I are the only girls on this side of the room. It's not like we ever do anything in here. We're too effing smart, so we just keep quiet while the bumbling idiots around us try to keep up with the teacher, and stumble over words like oppression. I just showed her that. She laughed. x) Oh, um, the rest of the class is either playing games or watching The Great Debaters. I saw it in 8th grade. I don't need to see it again. The boy, Junior, isn't exactly eye candy. Finals begin tomorrow. Me and my science project parter don't have to take a Biology final, because we won the science project competition. (We - I - made an action movie about the project, pretending to be spies who had to solve the Problem, or else the White House would blow up.) Let's call her Erica. I'm scared to be alone with her, if we have to go to a different room, because she has a crush on me. And she doesn't even know I'm bisexual. She makes people move so she can sit next to me, touches me innapropriately, and told me that she knows that we're supposed to be soulmates. Save me. So here's my question of the day - supposing I write everyday and that any of you care - : What do you do when you want to make someone stop loving you, but you don't want to stop being their friend or hurt their feelings?

JUNE 3RD 2011

I'm only making this 'cause someone's making me. Let's have a recap of my day, shall we? 6:33 - woke up over an hour late. I didn't shower and merely tussled my hair, and I ate breakfast in the car. Got to school on time, despite what my dad thought. Realized I didn't have my Biology textbook which was due today. Panicked for a second, then decided not to give a shutzpah. In Latin 2, I spent like, ten minutes on my final. I had my AE do it for me, then I went to sleep in the chair on the other side of the room. It smelled funkeh. In Biology, I didn't have to take a final so I went to the Media Center with Jackie, and not Erica. Fank chu, Lawd for making her not come. So I sat down in the back, and Jackie - constant bully that she is - made me sit on the floor so that she could read comfortably on the place where I was lounging. It was cold in there. Um, nothing exciting really happened. My sister is annoying the hellzpah out me and I'm gonna kill her. Question of the day: Why isn't it possible to go back in time yet?

JUNE 6TH 2011

Hello, ladies and gents. So, today is the second day of finals and the beginning of the end. That's right. IT'S THE LAST WEEK OF SCHOOL!!!11!!111!! I took my English 2 Honors and Algebra 2 exams earlier today (actually I just finished my Algebra) and I have to say I was dissapointed by the lack of imagination by my teachers. I mean, these tests were a bit too easy- not that anything's wrong with that. But you ever get that feeling that once you believe something to be incredibly easy, turns out you got every damn thing wrong? Yeah. That's how I feel. Anywho, this guy I think is adorkable (and he's a skater, swoon!) opened the door for me and made a cute joke. Now before you say "oh dear Lord is this just another hopeless romantic?" let me tell you that he only does it for me. When anyone else is at the door, he just stares at it like it's the door to Armagaddeon or something. I have a question: Do any of you believe in alter ego's? Do you believe it's possible to seperate your body from yours? (Google!) I have one. My friend named her Cali, don't ask. But if any of you have had encounters with your AE's, PM me. We need to discuss something. But that wasn't my question of the day. The real question is: Is it possible for your Alter Ego to become their own person?

JUNE 7TH 2011

But I set fire to the rain Watched it pour as I touched your face Well, it burned while I cried 'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name When laying with you I could stay there Close my eyes, feel you here forever You and me together, nothing is better 'Cause there's a side to you that I never knew, never knew All the things you'd say, they were never true, never true And the games you's play, you would always win, always win I'm in love with this song. I cried hearing this girl sing it. I think I'm in love with her now. WHY CAN'T i HAVE A VOICE LIKE HERS, GOD??????? I'm gonna cry. This song makes me cry. Her voice. So damn angelic. Anyway, about my day: IT SUCKED. The only fun part was during homeroom when we were playing Scrabble, [redacted because holy shit this was bad]. Oh, and I talked to my friend Ella for the first time in months. I swear, I'm just going to keep promoting this girl. I wonder if I can get her number....sigh. If only she had red hair. LAWL. I'm just joking guys. My heart belongs to Caraquel. Yanno, when she wants it. Anywhom Question of the Day: What makes you laugh?

JUNE 8TH 2011

Tomorrow's the last day of school. I finished my Speech and Debate class early, so I'm coming here. I'm about to pour out my feelings here. I'm about to get deep. Like, 6 feet underground deep, brah. So, I think I'm in love. With the fucking world. I have this problem where I love too much. I suppose there's a gap in my heart from not getting enough love when I was a kid, or maybe my brain is just fucked up. I've fallen two feet, I've been dropped, I've had a glass cup of coffee fall on my head all before I finished kindergarten. Maybe that's why my brain is fucked up. There's a lump in my head, and I'm not sure if that's normal. I think it messed up my mouth-brain connection, where I don't say what I think. Like, if I think "Mr. John's class is nice." I'll end up saying. "Mr. John has a nice ass." or something, when the guy is like 1,000 years old and looks like Santa Claus. And the sad thing is- I can never remember saying it. Sometimes I think it's Cali saying these things, and other times I think I'm just special. I love my girlfriend, my ex, and my two best friends. (But I love Cara the most.) I get jealous beyond belief when they so much as mention another person. The thing is, I should only love my girlfriend. 'Cause she's the only one that (I think) even wants to marry me. And that's the only reason I'd ever be interested in a person- because I think they're worth it for the long haul. I really should get over all the others, because they're taken and they don't want me for the long run. They want me for the here and now, I guess. Or maybe they want me for the here and now so they can see what they'd be getting in the long run. I'm so confused and I'm hurting, but I just can't stop loving. My girlfriend's favorites on Twitter are chock full of gay boys telling her they love her. And I get jelly because I'm the first - and only - girl she's ever liked ('cause I'm just that rockin') but she could probably change their sexualities. My best friend, Cara, I just...I just love her. I'm crying right now IN EFFING PUBLIC because of how much it would kill me to not have her in my life, to not have her love. And if you are reading this Caraquel, I love you. I love you. I know Cali said she was helping me get over you, but I don't think it's possible. Every time I think about you...it's not possible to live without you. But yeah. I need to get my cranium checked. This just ain't realistic. I mean, whenever my friends come to me about their relationship problems, I think "Oi, if only it were possible for me to love you all." but mostly because I hate it when they cry over some chick who doesn't give two flying shits about anyone but herself. So, my questions of the day are: Is it possible to have fucked up the love gland in your brain? Is it possible to love more than one person? Is it possible to die from heartbreak?

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yourplasticlittlespastic · 4 years

Text

ᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴇʙ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ – Peter Parker fanfic (7/of many)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 SERIES

"What about this verse on page 17?... yes, Miss Lorens..."

Gradually, their voices fade into the background with each thought I have, my eyes exploring my notebook as the most entertaining thing in the world. I feel a sting in my bottom lip. I've beeing bitting it intently. Worried.

'psss' I hear someone at my right 'pssssss!'

I turn to see Peter who waves at me so I wave back to him, he gets his phone out and signals me to do it too

I wait for an answer but when I turn to see him, Mr. Solis is asking for his phone, Peter nods and gives it to him. I wince and mutter a "sorry". At biology and Chemistry, I waited for him to talk to me but I think he's shyer than I thought. At recess, I look for Harley...

Harley! Oh shit.

What about what happened yesterday? Maybe I shouldn't overthink or maybe I should? I sigh leaning against my locker waiting for him. Fast steps across the hall and he rushes to his locker.

"You've been waiting a lot?" he catches his breath opening his locker and putting back his books

"Nope, just a century maybe. But don't worry"

"ha ha funny" he closes his locker and walks to me, my hands already clammy "are you ok?"

"Yes, just hungry" I mumble and he claps in excitement

So we walk to the cafeteria for him to get his food.

"So ummm, are we not going to discuss the fact that you kissed the corner of my lips?"

'Just rip off the band-aid, Tannie... being like that will save you lots of horrid moments' Nat voice sounds in my mind

He almost drops his tray and looks at me "I was planning to talk to you at our usual spot..." his blue eyes dancing to both sides

As quietly like we never are, we pace to the benches to sit down

"Do you mind that while we talk I begin to eat?" I say already with my sandwich in my hand

"Dig in....... I like you" he adds exactly when I try to take a bite of my sandwich, I stop and look at him

"Holy shit" I simply say

"Well... that's a reaction" he laughs and starts eating

"Is that no one ever told me they like me before" I snort and cross my leg

"That's not true! many guys from my year always talk about you and that they already told you to go on a date with them but you said no"

"What??! no! they never did that" I confess "Seriously they talk about me?" I ask in surprise taking another bite

He rubs his temple "Yeah... they see you like an heiress or something yet everyone is a little uh... unsure to talk with you... you know, for your attitude"

I quirk a brow "My attitude? what attitude?"

"You're very intimidating and absolutely direct and trust me, I've dealt with your dad but you're something else..."

I snort " proceed with the compliments, please"

Harley rolls his eyes and swallows "listen... you don't have to say anything ok? but that's the latest..."

I shift and look at his eyes "I think I need to uh think deeply all of this but if it helps... I don't hate you" I click my tongue and he laughs

"What about if we don't make it awkward?"

I sigh in relief "Hell yes please!!"

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

Music, blah, blah. Art and Robotics, fortunately, went by fast. Harley told me that his distant cousins were visiting so he needs to go and help his mom. I quickly jog out and find Happy.

"How was school?"

"Not a bad day today" I smile at him "You know something about dad?"

"Yep, he just called me... he's coming here in some hours, his flight arrives at 5:30 am"

I buckle my seatbelt and sigh "Great! good news then... I miss him"

When I arrive I prepare myself some food and knock Wanda's door and leave her a tray with comfort food. I then go to do my homework while I search with Friday more news about Steve but they're off the radar. Minutes into variables I lift my head with the sudden reminder that there's a lap pool so I grab a towel and a swimsuit and start looking for it, 20 minutes later I finally discover the room. Still with the same white walls and marble tiles.

Already preparing for sleep I text with Harley who is mocking his cousins, I set an alarm earlier to see my dad.

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

I growl at the sound but quickly my mind remembers that my dad is almost arriving. I change and kill the rest of the time preparing breakfast. I hear the doors sliding and I quickly run to the shadowy figure.

"Dad!!" I jump hugging him tightly

"T!!" he returns the hug palming softly in my back "I'm so glad you're safe"

A crane almost crushed me but ok...

"There was an accident at the centre you were in... are you ok? apart from that black eye"

"super-duper! now I'm an active-duty non-combatant and it feels weird" he says gently pushing me to walk with him upstairs "So uh... do you like this place?"

"I do, I'm still discovering shortcuts... oh, I made breakfast if you want"

"uh, yes... toast" he grabs a slice and some strawberry preserve and starts eating "how's your mom?"

I gulp looking at his knitted brows "she's been busy these days but she seems fine, I guess uh, so what's your plan for today?"

"Going to Queens" he simply says filling his mouth with more food

"Why?"

"Oh, I need to talk to a friend there and I'll grab some pizza on the way back" he states "What's your plan T?"

"Well... today I have an Algebra quiz but I'm me so..."

"What do you know about Spider-man?" he suddenly asks "Pop culture is your thing, right?"

"umm I just know that everyone talks about him... they call him the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. I t's so weird because he webs and hangs all around the city dad, I don't know how he does it"

my dad grabs a napkin rubbing his mouth "So... you think he's a good person?"

"Yeah, he helps grandmas and cats, but he needs to seriously change that onesie he wears" I laugh "and maybe the glasses..."

"So now you're Joan Rivers or something?" he says and I slap him on his arm "I'll be at my new office ok?"

I grab my backpack "and I'll be at school, love you"

I walk to the car and see Happy there, all the way to Midtown he told me about the new episode of Downtown Abbey. With long steps, I walk to my locker and then to Geometry running into Ned.

"Hey, Ned! ready for some geometry?"

"Of course! I printed our work, I'll handle it don't worry"

"Thanks, so... have you seen Peter lately?"

he shifts his backpack in his shoulder "Yeah, why?"

"You're his best friend and maybe you know what is bothering him...?" I whisper stepping into the classroom settling in our seats

"I also told him he seemed strange and distracted" whispers back rapidly nodding "but he told me he feels the pressure of everything right now..."

I frown at that "It seems that's his generic answer for everything"

"...Maybe his body is changing or something..." he pauses looking at me for what he just said and both of us blurt in laughter

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

I search and I search and I search. Where the Flying fork is locker 1184? I moan in relief when I spot his neatly brushed-back hair and slim figure.

I stride towards him "Peter!"

He rubs his forehead "Tannie hey! it's physics right?"

"Yeah, it is... ready for the first Algebra quiz?"

"Totally, I've been studying nonstop" he smiles "by the way, thank you for offering me advise" His eyes dart to my face for just a second

"Sure, when you feel ready I'll be there, by the way, I like your pizza slash equation shirt" A toothy smile forms in his face and then someone grabs my shoulders making me flinch

"'Sup, Peter! Tannie..." Harley smiles at me squeezing my shoulder

"Hey! I-I see you in class" Peter awkwardly steps away from his locker into the crowd

I jerk my head "What's up Keener?"

"Just to tell you that you look decent today" he bounces in his feet

I snort "Is that your way of telling me I look nice?" I poke his chest making him laugh

He quickly walks to the other way of the hallway and spins to me "Nah don't flatter yourself" he's gone with a wink and my cheeks suddenly feel hot

I enter to Physics with a little smile plastered on my face.

"I like your smile T" Flash winks at me and as fast as the smile formed in my face it drops away

"Thanks, Eugene" I singsong his real name knowing he hates being called like that

Throughout the class, I tried to answer all the questions with the intention of getting Peter's attention and annoy him but he was deep thinking. While going to Algebra I rush to sit and review one last time the important stuff, yes I consider myself a Know-it-all.

"ok class! listen up, I'll give you the questions and some blank sheets for you to fill, complete name and date, no cheating please" the teacher instructs

I'm not trying to brag or anything but in less than fifteen minutes I finished the quiz. Earning some looks from the people in the class including Peter. I was allowed to wait in the hallway so I sit down on the floor leaning against the lockers. Absentmindedly scrolling through my phone.

"That was fast"

A pair of blue sneakers appear in front of me. I look up and see Peter bouncing on his feet

"Come, sit" I move a little for him to sit

"Thanks... care to tell me how on earth you did it so fast?" he leans the back of his head against the metal doors

"Oh, that's all my brain" I snort "ok that sounded cocky... but you also finished fast"

"I uh like exams... it's silly I know"

"No, it's not... I like them as well, the best part is when you see everyone stressed and confused" he laughs stronger and I throw my arms in the air " finally! a true laugh! I did it!"

he clears his throat "Yeah... you did..."

"Have you talk to Liz?"

A sudden shade of pink crawls to his cheeks "Oh...ummm... no... why?"

"Maybe you should? she's a senior I get it but she's cool, you're cool... I don't see anything wrong"

A faint goofy smile appears in his face "Yeah, she is... what about Harrold? is Harrold?"

"Oh, you mean Harley? what about him"

He rolls his eyes. First time I see him flashing some sassiness.

"I think he likes you, he seems nice"

"He is... but I don't know... I am a handful" I shrug wrinkling my nose

"If someone wants to be with you... in the end, they'll be with you, you know what I mean? maybe not, I suck at advising" we laugh seeing how more people are coming out of the classroom.

"Hey, Penis Parker!" Flash walks past us holding a hall pass

"I'm gonna kill him" I whisper

"Get in line, Tannie"

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

I spent recess with Harley again at the benches, then I went to the changing lockers for P.E. I'm currently playing volleyball with some girls while boys are stupidly daring each other to climb a rope.

"wuuuu Tannie! show them who's the best" I hear a shout at the end of the benches, the voice echoes all around the gym

Soft giggles from the girls beside me. I spin and see Harley leaning against the wall so I quickly jog to him

"a lot of enthusiasm I see..."

"You need a cheerleader, moral support" he smiles scanning me from head to toes "never seen you in sports uniform..."

I grunt and walk backwards "Please don't be a pervert and stare at my legs"

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

I feel how my head falls forwards but someone pokes my arm to stay awake. I flutter my eyes and realize I'm still in Ethics. I turn and see Peter.

"Thanks" I whisper rubbing my cheeks "what's that?" I jerk my head to something coming out of his backpack

"Uh, Ned asked me if he could borrow my DVD... he just returned it to me"

"Oh... is that a new backpack? I've seen at least three different in the last days"

he scratches the back of his neck "I ummm... I'm clumsy so... I spill coffee or milk..."

"So... now that you don't have any clubs... what do you do the last period?" I slightly lean to him careful that the teacher doesn't notice us

"I-I go to the library and do my homework so when classes end I already finished everything" he assures me

----------

Making my way to the street, I receive a text from Happy saying he's stuck with work between the compound and the tower and that I can take the subway only if I call him at every point. I rush across the street fully enjoying the freedom I'm granted today. I bounce with a smile on my face. Just walking through busy streets like a normal person even enjoying the traffic noise from the city. I take out my phone and open the GPS to walk to the nearest subway station. I study the route and decide to take the shortcut.

Kinda lame if I think about it. A New Yorker who doesn't know how city life is? Pitiful.

Minutes into the shortcut and debating if I got lost or not, I stop in a corner just in front of a set of buildings. I pinch the screen of the map and sigh in annoyance but my eyes stop in a bright orange spot just across the street. A car. An Audi. My dad's Audi. What? I jump back and quickly hide behind a pillar, only peeking my head. He's getting out and reads something on his phone. He enters the third building. When his figure is gone I cross the street and start following him.

The music inside is loud and the chattering of people echoes everywhere. I stop when I see him in front of the lift. Rapidly he enters and once the doors shut I read the counter... and it stops on the sixth floor. I gasp and use the emergency stairs, dodging people who are blocking the way up. He's visiting his friend, I guess.

I catch my breath when I arrive on the floor. I warily open the door and peek inside. He's just stepping out of the lift so I follow him quietly hiding behind a wall. He stops in a door, knocking only twice. A woman answers, I only cath her hair because my phone starts ringing and my heart skips a beat. I pat my pocket and quickly answer.

"He-hello??" I whisper covering my mouth to stifle the sound

"Young lady, I thought we had an agreement?" Happy says in the other line

"I was about to call you!, I'm entering the subway and I know signal could be bad in here" I chirp trying to sound as innocent as I can

"Good, I calculate at least ten stations, ok? be careful"

I hurriedly end the call and spin to see where my dad was standing but he's no longer there and the door is shut. I slide myself to the floor and just wait. So... hs friend is a woman, huh? Minutes later I hear the buzz of the lift. Slowly, the doors slide open and I spot the familiar backpack with orange coating on its sides and the DVD Player.

"oh fuck!" I whisper and try to get up but I slip on the floor and quickly turn my back on him

Peter?

He lives here?

I lift my head to see where he's going and What. The. Hell? he opens the door my dad just knocked on... What? What is happening?... the only thing to do now is to wait.

A/N: Hope you liked it! Also available in Wattpad! https://my.w.tt/sw2CZNdCv1

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