#Sometimes you can wait to learn how to read until the third grade
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I love drafts. If you're not a multidraft writer, especially for bigger projects, I highly suggest trying it. Sometimes when you feel stuck where you are, if you multidrafted, you can go back to where you started. It's so rewarding to see how far the story has come, which can feel motivating. Other times you may realize something you really liked in an early draft got lost, and you can bring it back in the current draft to make things flow better. Having multiple drafts cuts down on the chances of accidentally losing or completely deleting a fic. So! much! good! in! drafts!
#I'm digging through early drafts of House We Share#it's crazy how much that fic grew and changed#I miss working in the writing center#Writing is such a craft#it's not just a talent#some people have natural talent undeniably#however some people don't and still become competent writers#Sometimes you can wait to learn how to read until the third grade#fail 7th grade English#be dyslexic#and keep going#to one day teach people how you figured it out#coley's rambling
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this is on a bus back from camp
im thirteen and so are you
before i left for camp i imagined it would be me and three or four other dudes
i hadnt met yet running around all summer getting into trouble
it turned out it would be me and just one girl thats you
and were still at camp as long as were on the bus
and not at the pickup point where our parents would be waiting for us
were still wearing our orange camp tshirts we still smell like pine needles
i like you and you like me and i more than like you
but i dont know if you do or dont more than like me
youve never said so i havent been saying anything all summer
content to enjoy the small miracle of a girl choosing to talk to me
and choosing to do so again the next day and so on
a girl whos smart and funny and who if i say something dumb for a laugh
is willing to say something two or three times as dumb to make me laugh
but who also gets weird and wise sometimes in a way i could never be
a girl who reads books that no ones assigned to her
whose curly brown hair has a line running through it
from where she put a tie to hold it up while it was still wet
back in the real world we dont go to the same school
and unless one of our families moves to a dramatically different neighborhood
we wont go to the same high school
so this is kind of it for us unless i say something
and it might especially be it for us if i actually do say something
the suns gone down and the bus is quiet a lot of kids are asleep
were talking in whispers about a tree we saw at a rest stop
that looks like a kid we know
and then im like can i tell you something
and all of a sudden im telling you
and i keep telling you and it all comes out of me and it keeps coming
and your face is there and gone and there and gone
as we pass underneath the orange lamps that line the sides of the highway
and theres no expression on it
and i think just after a point im just talking to lengthen the time
where we live in a world where you havent said yes or no yet
and regrettably i end up using the word destiny
i dont remember in what context doesnt really matter
before long im out of stuff to say and you smile and say okay
i dont know exactly what you mean by it but it seems vaguely positive
and i would leave in order not to spoil the moment
but theres nowhere to go because were on a bus
so i pretend like im asleep and before long i really am
i wake up the bus isnt moving anymore
the domed lights that line the center aisle are all on
i turn and youre not there
then again a lot of kids arent in their seats anymore
were parked at the pickup point which is in the parking lot of a methodist church
the bus is half empty you might be in your dads car by now
your bags and things piled high in the trunk
the girls in the back of the bus are shrieking and laughing and taking their sweet time
disembarking as i swing my legs out into the aisle to get up off the bus
just as one of them reaches my row
it used to be our row on our way off
its michelle a girl who got suspended from third grade for a week
after throwing rocks at my head
adolescence is doing her a ton of favors bodywise
she stops and looks down at me
and her head is blasted from behind by the dome light so i cant really see her face
but i can see her smile and she says one word destiny
then her and the girls clogging the aisles behind her all laugh
and then she turns and leads them off the bus
i didnt even know you were friends with them
i find my dad in the parking lot he drives me back to our house and camp is over
so is summer even though theres two weeks until school starts
this isnt a story about how girls are evil or how love is bad
this is a story about how i learned something and im not saying this thing is true or not
im just saying its what i learned
i told you something it was just for you and you told everybody
so i learned cut out the middle man make it all for everybody always
everybody cant turn around and tell everybody everybody already knows i told them
but this means there isnt a place in my life for you or someone like you
is it sad sure but its a sadness i chose
i wish i could say this was a story about how i got on the bus a boy
and got off a man more cynical hardened and mature and shit
but thats not true the truth is i got on the bus a boy and i never got off the bus
i still havent
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Wanda Maximoff / Reader - The One Where You Punch Tony Stark - Chapter Three
Gif is not mine, but i love it.
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 4 || Read on AO3 (Complete Work)
Summary: When the rumors that you punched Tony Stark in the face spread around your school, some interesting events unfolded.
Warnings: 18+; Enemies to Lovers; Angry Sex; Underage Sex; High School AU; Violence; Fights; Inappropriate language; Fluff and Smut; minor mentions of Reader x Carol and Reader x Jessica Jones.
Notes: This work was already finished on AO3, but i forgot to continue this on Tumblr. I hope everyone who thought that was a one shot, enjoy the rest of it.
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Chapter Three - Sometimes it’s just a date
You don't like water polo. Actually, you don't like watching the water polo team.
With next week being finals week, you would like to have a quiet period. But then, the track and field and water polo finals are making the athletes restless, and you have to deal with the excitement of your colleagues around the halls.
Maybe Natasha is right, you are pretty grumpy when it comes to socializing.
Participation in a sports team is mandatory from the first year on. Principal Thanos had approved this rule as an "incentive to healthy living," and only students with a medical condition could get away with it. You considered falsifying a medical history many times, but eventually you agreed to join the lacrosse team. You kept your performance average, just to maintain your grade. And even when the coach saw potential in you, you told her that you had no interest in participating in the championships.
And then you were sitting on the team bench, watching your team play on the field while the crowd cheered as you watched. All sports were encouraged, after all, usually all students attended all kinds of games. You watched Natasha wave to you from the stands, and you smiled back.
You were almost falling asleep, then a chorus of startled exclamations coming from the audience startled you, and you looked quickly at the field.
Your teammate, Gamora, suffered a foul and was being helped off the field by her teammates. You looked down the field with a frown, hoping that she was all right. But then she was taken off the field on a stretcher, her knee bandaged. It didn't take long before the coach came to you and signaled that you were going to have to replace the girl.
Letting out a grumble of protest, you stood up, grabbing the bat the coach offered you, and stepped onto the field.
Your approach to playing was interesting. You were aggressive and impatient, but efficient. You scored three points, and tried not to be bothered by the attention you were getting. And then, when your team won, you tried not to push the girls who jumped on you during the celebration.
As you joined the team in the locker room, the coach asked to speak to you privately.
- I wanted to say that I was surprised by your performance, but in fact I always knew what you could do. - She commented as soon as you were alone in her room, inside the locker room. You shifted the weight of your feet, awkwardly.
- Thanks, I guess. - You say, and the teacher smiles tenderly at you.
- Tell me, Y/L, do you have plans for college? - she asks, leaning on her desk.
- Not really, Coach. - You say. - I sent some applications, but after my suspension, I don't think I will have much of a chance.
- You know that something like a position on a regular team can count in your favor. - She comments, and you shrug.
- I have only played in two games so far. - You hit back. She smiles.
- Oh yes, and you performed flawlessly. - She says. - What I'm saying is, I could write you a letter of recommendation. If you commit to play with us until the end of the school year, of course.
You frown, thinking about it.
- I wouldn't want to take Gamora's place.
The teacher laughs, shrugging her shoulders.
- Don't worry about it, we can arrange the team for you to play together. Besides that, unfortunately Gamora will not participate in at least two games because of her injury. And she will be happy to know that you are helping the team to win.
You nod, putting your hands in your pockets.
- Okay, I'll take it then. - You say. - Only for the letter of recommendation of course. - You joke, and the coach goes to one of the drawers. She pulls out a first team uniform. - This is yours. - She hands it to you. - And please try to control your temper on the field.
The coach winks at you, and you laugh slightly, accepting the uniform. You nod slightly and walk out of the room toward the showers.
- I can't believe you're a jock now! - Natasha jokes when you tell her you joined the team. You laugh, pushing her slightly. You are sitting at the tables in the outdoor cafeteria during the second break.
- Please don't say that. - You say playfully. Nat just smiles, taking a bite out of her snack.
- But anyway. - she says after a moment. - Are you still going to the concert on Saturday?
You let out a sigh and Nat looks at you curiously.
- I'll tell you something, and you promise not to hate me?
Nat laughs, imitating a promise sign, and you shake your head, smiling.
- Go ahead, say it. You're making me curious. - She asks. You laugh, trying to build up courage.
- I have to tell Carol I'm not interested. - You begin, and Nat raises her eyebrows in surprise. - I'm liking someone else.
- Wow, Jones really got to you? - She assumes, and you laugh, denying it with your head. - Wait, there's a third girl? My God, you're unstoppable.
You laugh ruefully, and Nat follows you. You swallow dryly before speaking and look at the table where you are sitting.
- I am in love with Wanda Maximoff.
Nat lets out a surprised exclamation, and then laughs, thinking you were joking. And then she notices your expression, and widens her eyes in surprise.
- My God, you are serious! - she exclaims. But then she smiles at you, and puts her hand on your forearm. - Hey, I don't have a problem with that. I was just a little surprised.
- Really? - you ask with a sigh of relief. Nat smiles at you.
- Now explain to me how this happened. - She asks, cupping her face in her left hand as she looks at you intently. You take a sip of your soda before speaking.
- Actually, this has been going on for some time. - You confess. - Me and Wanda... well. The first person who knew I liked girls was her. - You tell, and Nat lets out a surprised exclamation, but does not interrupt you. - We have been in the same class since elementary school. When we were in eighth grade, she saw me kissing Mary Jane Watson behind the soccer fields. I asked her not to tell anyone, and she never did. - You say, and Nat listens attentively. - And then she became who she is now, and any interaction we had seemed like we were going to jump around each other's necks at any moment. - You sighed. - And then, after the soccer game, I gave her an orgasm against the locker room wall.
- Wait, what? - exclaimed Natasha in surprise. - My god, you had sex with Wanda Maximoff? - She practically screamed and you raised your hands and waved for her to keep her voice down. Nat laughed with a mixture of disbelief and excitement. - I can't believe it. I don't even know what to think about it.
You mumbled with embarrassment, looking away.
- Just keep it down, please. - You asked, and Nat laughed.
- Are you two in some kind of secret relationship now? - she asked, and you laughed ironically.
- Not at all. - You say. - She completely ignored me after that. And then we argued during Ms. Hill's class.
- Shit, I'm sorry about that. But are you still willing to take this anywhere? Since you are going to dismiss Carol.
You blink slightly, thoughtfully. Then you shrug.
- I'm only going to dismiss Carol because it's not fair to be with her while thinking about another girl. - You explain. - And I don't expect Wanda to want anything to do with me anyway.
- I see. - Nat says, giving you a sad smile. - But I think she would be very stupid to let someone like you slip away.
You smile sadly, and you go back to eating. Before long the break is over, and you share Nat's displeasure at having to go to the health class.
Health classes are awkward. At least now that you and Natasha were friends, you were distracted by her jokes. Professor Wade Wilson was known for his humorous and completely unfiltered attitude during class. He made jokes and pranks, and didn't care much if the students were actually learning something. You remember when you were learning about the effects of alcohol on the body and he brought a bottle of whiskey and shared it among the students. Counselor Fury was not happy at all.
But occasionally you learned very important things in class, like how to clean wounds made in laboratories, for example.
You figured he would follow the programmed curriculum, but you should know better. Wilson came into the room, sat down at his own desk and signaled for everyone to go to their seats. Nat exchanged an amused look with you.
- Good morning, brats. - He said as he took something out of his pocket. The room erupted in giggles and comments as he held up a rubber penis and vagina. - Let's talk about sex today.
- Finally, eh Mr. Wilson! - shouted Tony Stark ironically, causing the class to laugh. You saw him give Pepper Potts a mischievous look, while the girl just smiled and fiddled with her hair.
- Well, I need to teach you how to put on condoms first. - says the professor with a slight irony in his voice. - Because of course you are all innocent in this matter.
The class laughed, but you were distracted scribbling in your notebook. The professor leaned over to read the attendance list on his desk.
- I need two of you to demonstrate your knowledge to me. - He says. - Stark and Y/L/N come forward please.
Nat nudges you with her elbow and you frown. She nods toward the desk, and Professor Wilson is already looking at you. You mumble a "shit" before getting up and walking to the front of the room.
- Please demonstrate. - He says handing a condom to you and one to Tony, who gives you an angry look, and you roll your eyes. Tony moves toward the plastic vagina, but Wilson laughs, putting his hand in your way. - The other prosthesis, Mr. Stark.
You watch Tony's red cheeks with disbelief, and you also hear the giggles that circulate around the room. Tony quickly opens the condom with his teeth and puts on the rubber penis with his shaking hands. Then he turns to the class, putting his hands in his pockets.
- Who can tell me what Mr. Stark did wrong? - asks the professor, but no one raises their hand. You wonder if people just don't want to say that Tony Stark was wrong, or if they really didn't know. - Really, guys, nobody?
- He bit the package, sir. - You grumble, feeling all the stares on you. Wilson lets out a happy exclamation as he looks at you.
- Yes, exactly, Miss Y/L/N. - He says, looking around the room again. - When you bite the condom wrapper, you can damage the condom, and consequently, take away its effectiveness. The class takes note of the information passed on. - Now, Y/N, please. Demonstrate how to use the female condom.
You let out a sigh, and turn to the table, without preventing other students from seeing what you are doing. Quickly, you open the package and put the condom on the prosthetic. Professor Wilson lets out a chuckle, congratulating you for handling it correctly, but as you turn around, you hear Tony Stark comment loudly:
- With so much practice in real life, it should be easy. - He says, and the class bursts into giggles.
- Stark. - The professor says with a scolding tone, but you assume a wry posture.
- Don't be like that, Tony. I'm sure Steve will be happy to let you practice with him. - You fight back, and the laughter swirls around you.
- Look, here you bitch... - Tony steps forward and the professor stands in front of him, with a serious expression. You think this is the first time you've seen him angry.
- You two come with me immediately.
And so you end up sitting in Nicky Fury's office again, with Tony Stark in the chair next to you. You both stand with your arms crossed and looking straight ahead as Professor Wilson explains the confusion in his class. Fury nods and says that he will handle everything, and the professor gives him an understanding smile before leaving the room.
- I have been waiting to talk to you two. - says Fury as he sits down at his desk. - Who would like to start?
- I have nothing to say. - says Tony in a harsh tone. You want to punch him again.
- That's too bad, Mr. Star. - says Fury. - You will stay here until someone tells me the nature of this conflict.
You let out an irritated snort.
- I've told you before, Fury. - You say. - Stark is an arrogant piece of shit who has no respect for anyone.
- You're fucking insane, girl! - Tony cuts you off, and you refuse to look at him. Fury lets out a sigh.
- Please, I will not tolerate this kind of verbal aggression in my office. - He says. - If you don't answer me, I will simply recommend that you both be expelled.
You and Tony are silent, both with furious expressions. But then you remember the promise you made to the coach, and let out a sigh.
- I punched Tony in the face at his eighteenth birthday party. - You confess, surprising them both.
A moment passes, and you think Fury is finally going to expel you, but then Tony speaks up next to you.
- I provoked her. - He confesses. You look surprised, and Fury just waits for Tony to clarify. He lets out an impatient sigh before speaking. - I followed her out and said some rude stuff.
Fury is thoughtful for a few minutes, and then he makes some notes in his notebook. You began to drum your fingers against your thigh, uncomfortable.
- Would you like to tell me exactly why you did that Tony? - Fury asked.
Tony let out an impatient grunt. And many moments passed before he spoke again.
- I don't know, okay? - He says, running his hands through his hair nervously. - I only saw her kissing a girl and then I was outside. I didn't want her at my party.
- I should have known you were a homophobic jerk. - You say, and Tony tells you to go fuck yourself. Fury warns you both again.
- Tony, I've heard rumors about your relationship with Mr. Rogers. - Fury begins and Stark straightens his posture, his face red. You think the conversation is getting interesting. - Don't you think, perhaps, your reaction to seeing Miss Y/L/N has something to do with it?
- I don't want to talk about it. - Tony grumbles. You stand there thoughtfully, understanding what Fury meant. He had suggested that the only reason Tony hated you so much, besides being a complete idiot, was because he rejected his own sexuality.
- We're going to talk about this privately, Mr. Star. - Announces Fury. - That will be my last warning to you two. No more fighting. If I hear that you two have renewed conflicts, I will recommend your immediate expulsion.
You and Tony nod, and Fury releases you with a detention card. You grumble, but leave the room, closing the door while Tony and Fury stand talking in private.
You never imagined that you would see Pietro Maximoff in detention. But when you thought about it, it actually made sense.
Sitting in the back of the room, you were even more surprised when he looked up at you, and gave you a shy smile. You blinked in surprise and looked away.
Professor Charles Xavier only taught history to the senior year, which left him with many free periods throughout the day, so he was also responsible for the detention class. It worked well, since it seemed that no one could hide anything from her, and detention ended up being quite efficient.
He came into the classroom with a book in his hand, and sat down, staying for many minutes without saying anything at all. And then he asked everyone to pair up, and you looked incredulously at Pietro Maximoff as he sat down in front of you.
- You're kidding me, right? - you said as soon as he arrived. Peter laughed, shrugging his shoulders.
Before Pietro could say anything, Professor Xavier announced that the class should make a short summary of the last subject he taught in class, which drew a disgruntled gasp from the few students present.
You started to take the materials out of the backpack and put them on the table.
- I wanted to thank you. - Pietro said as the professor sat down. The class was buzzing with murmurs, all the students talking about their work, and Charles didn't seem to care, focused on his book. You looked at Pietro with your eyebrows raised, and he smiled wryly. - For helping me that day.
- It's a natural reaction, Maximoff. - You retort, looking away from him and start writing in your notebook. Pietro chuckles.
- Yeah, I know. - he says. - But still, thank you. The nurse told me that if you hadn't been so quick, I might have had an injury that would have prevented me from playing football.
You shrugged, not knowing what to say. You were silent for a few moments, each concentrated on his summary, and then Pietro stopped writing and you felt him looking at you.
- What is it now? - you asked without taking your eyes off the paper.
- Do you like music? - You raise your eyebrows incredulously as you look at him.
- Everybody likes music, what kind of question is that?
Pietro laughs awkwardly.
- Sorry, you're right. - he says humorously. - I actually meant, do you know "The Panthers"? They are a rock band. They are playing in town on Saturday and…
- Are you asking me out? - You blink in confusion. Pietro shrugs.
- As a thank you. It's not a date. - He adds quickly when he sees your expression. - I'm going to the show with some friends.
- I'm also going to the show. - You retort, and Pietro assumes a surprised but happy expression.
- Great, we can see each other there then!
- I guess. - You grumble, turning your attention back to the summary. Pietro smiles, and a moment passes before he hands you a small piece of paper with a phone number.
- Text me when you get there. So it'll be easier for us to meet. - he suggested.
You blinked in surprise, but remembering that Fury had told you to avoid conflict, you just put the paper in your pocket, and you and Pietro finished the exercise. He handed your summaries to the teacher, and sat down in front of you again. You left your hands in your pockets as he turned to you.
- What did you do to be here anyway? - you asked. Pietro stretched out his legs, leaning his back against the wall.
- I followed your lead. - He said humorously, and you frowned uncomprehendingly. He laughed, then clarified. - I punched Tony during practice.
You raised your eyebrows in surprise.
- Wow, I didn't see that one coming. - You say. - May I ask why?
- He said some things about my sister. - Pietro says, locking his jaw as if remembering the conflict. - And then I punched him in the mouth. - He grimaces and imitates the move with his hand, making you laugh slightly.
- What did he say? - You can't help the question from escaping your lips. Pietro doesn't seem to mind though, shrugging his shoulders.
- Stupid comments about her, sex stuff. - he says. - We were training and he decided he was free to talk about her body to everyone on the team.
You swallowed your anger, not wanting to show it to Pietro, choosing only to nod.
- When he does it with other girls is it okay then? - you tease without holding back. Pietro frowns, denying it with his head.
- Of course not. - he says, and straightens up. - Look, I know you have an opinion about me. But I'm not a complete idiot. I don't treat girls that way.
- Oh, right. - You say it with irony. Pietro laughs, knowing exactly what you're talking about.
- I am serious. - he says. - I know what the school says about me. I don't like commitment, and I've been with a lot of girls. But I didn't cheat on any of them. - He clarifies, shrugging his shoulders. - And I don't treat them like objects.
- Congratulations for doing the minimum. - You say a bit harshly, and Pietro laughs.
You fall silent again, and then Professor Xavier dismisses the class.
Pietro waves and smiles at you as you leave detention, and you think that maybe you have been teleported to a parallel reality.
Carol picks you up at your house. You both put on your leather jackets, and she thinks it' s pretty hot.
The Panthers' concert is very crowded, and it is held in an open field on the edge of town. When you arrive, Carol holds your hand to lead you to your group of friends. You don't mind.
You hug everyone, and mention that you like Thor's new haircut, who had cut his long hair and was wearing an earring in his left ear. You were talking for several minutes in the food cart area, since the show was going to take a while to start.
Then Pietro Maximoff saw you and waved excitedly, and his friends looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and incredulity. Natasha laughed softly in your ear before he approached.
- So glad you could make it! - he said cheerfully. You decided not to mention his choice of clothes, since Pietro came with the team jacket.
- Hi Pietro. - You greet awkwardly, but he looks cheerful, and greets all of your friends with a smile.
- Hey, you're owls, aren't you? - He says. - I've seen you at state when we played there last year!
Your friends smile and nod politely, and then Pietro looks around, and waves. A group of people join you all next. You feel your body tense up the moment Wanda Maximoff walks up to you, and then a deep irritation hits you as you notice a tall boy with his arms around her. You think you have seen him before in geography class. Also in the group are your classmates Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, and Peter Parker, the last being a freshman. You barely register the words of introduction that Pietro makes, your attention completely on Wanda, who looks surprised and slightly embarrassed to see you.
Your friends greet Pietro's group, and you look away from Wanda to pay attention to his words.
- If you guys don't mind, can we all stay together? - Pietro suggests, and you want to scream that you can't bear to stand next to the boy holding Wanda without strangling him, but your friends agree, looking excited to interact with new people.
- Let's stay in the north stands, it's better to see. - Said Valkyrie signaling the direction, the group agreed and you started walking. Natasha hugged Clint and gave you a suggestive nod in the direction of Wanda, which made you roll your eyes in humor. And then Carol threw her arm over your shoulder, and you wanted to laugh at the deadly expression Wanda threw at you before looking forward. Carol didn't notice.
When you arrived at the chosen area, you sat down on the grass. The group was well-mixed, and everyone seemed to be talking to each other. You felt Wanda's gaze on your back, but you refused to look at her. Thor and Bucky handed out the snacks that they had bought with the group, and as you drank your soda, you felt Carol's hand on your thigh.
And then she kissed you, and you knew you had to talk to her. You asked her to walk with you, and you walked back to the entrance of the show, which was now completely empty.
It was quick, and impressive easy. Carol smiled and said that everything was fine, and said again that you never made promises to each other. She gave you a kiss on the cheek and went back to the group. You told her you would buy some candy before you went back.
When you reached the snack bar area, someone pulled you behind a pillar.
- I want to talk to you. - Wanda said angrily. You rolled your eyes impatiently, putting distance between your bodies.
- I'm all ears. - You said with irony.
- I don't want you dating anyone else.
You let out an incredulous laugh.
- You've got to be kidding me. - You spoke in anger. - Are you even listening to what you're saying now?
- Why are you going out with that girl? - Wanda asks in the same tone.
- You're a damn hypocrite, you know that? -You accuse her, moving closer. -Wanting to impose demands when you're having sex with that jerk.
Wanda rolls her eyes, and you think you might explode with rage. And then you grab her around the waist and push her against the pillar behind her. Wanda lets out a surprised exclamation and her gaze falls directly to your mouth.
- You think I don't know how you feel, don't you, Wanda? - You whisper, looking at her with a mixture of seriousness and desire. - Tell me, do you pretend it's me touching you when you're with him?
Wanda lets out a sigh, but lifts her head, not responding. You let out a wry laugh, and then you press your knee firmly against her core, and she shivers and lets out a low groan, closing her eyes tightly.
- Don't forget to moan my name tonight. - You say it against her ear, and then let go.
You walk back to the group, feeling hot and bothered. You exchange a look with Natasha, but say nothing.
Wanda comes back a little later, and during the entire show, you feel her looking at you.
You refuse Carol's ride when the show ends. She waves with a smile, and leaves. And then you wave goodbye to everyone, and decide to leave by bus. You liked public transportation because it helped you to think while you looked out the window.
- Be careful, troublemaker. - asks Nat as she gives you a hug goodbye. She is sleeping at Bruce's house and will not accompany you on the way back.
Pietro has had a few too many beers, and gives you a tight hug when he says goodbye, saying that the night was incredible. You laugh at his reaction. You don't say goodbye to Wanda.
And then you are walking to the bus stop, with your headphones on, and you almost stumble in shock when you feel someone touching your shoulder.
- Fuck, girl! - You complain as you turn around. - What is it now?- Go on a date with me. - Wanda says looking at you.
- What?
- Go on a date with me. - She repeats, smiling.
You blush, and look down at the floor, suddenly feeling very warm. You wave your hands inside your jacket pockets.
- Now?
Wanda nods, and you bite back a smile on your lips.
- Okay. - You agree.
You turn and sit down at the bus stop. Wanda sits quietly next to you. You raise your hand and take out one of your headphones, offering it to Wanda. She smiles when she accepts, and you listen to some music together while you wait for the bus.
Since the vast majority of places in town were closed at this time, you took Wanda to a place that wouldn't be.
When you worked at the junkyard, you discovered many interesting places when you had to pick up equipment for your boss. One of these places was the city's port.
You knew that there was a secluded area of the municipal harbor with an incredible view of the sea, and so you guided Wanda through the bars and down the concrete path. You sat on the edge, your feet dangling a few feet from the ocean below.
- How did you find this place? - she asks, staring at the landscape.
- Working at the junkyard made me explore the city. - You answer also looking straight ahead.
You are silent for a moment before you ask:
- What should we talk about, Wanda?
- Anything. - She says. - Or nothing at all.
You smile.
- I don't know what is going on between us. - You confess, and Wanda lets out a sigh.
She says nothing and you almost give up trying to talk about your relationship, and then she puts her hand on top of yours, looking at the ocean in front of you.
- I'll tell you one thing, and you promise not to freak out, okay? - she asks, and you nod.
Wanda looks down at her own lap, and takes a deep breath, as if she is taking courage.
- I think I'm in love with you. - She confesses, and you feel your heart race. - It's been a while, actually. I guess I just realized it now.
- How long?
- Do you remember when I saw you kissing Mary Watson in the eighth grade? - She asks and you nod. - I just... I didn't know why it bothered me. And then, you told me to keep it a secret and I got so jealous that every time I saw you I just wanted to slap you. And then we started to fight and I pushed all the feelings aside hoping they would go away. And then game night happened.
You remained silent as you absorbed Wanda's words. She spoke again before you could.
- Damn, I know this is a lot to absolve. - She says. - I understand if you just want sex. Or if you'd rather not talk to me anymore.
You interrupt her monologue with a kiss on the lips, which makes her gasp. But you pull away, smiling shyly at her.
- I'm in love with you too, Wanda. - You confess, and watch Wanda's cheeks turn red.
Wanda brings your mouths together again, and you kiss her intensely. You giggle with relief and happiness, and then Wanda hugs you around the neck, and you let your arms wrap around her tightly, sinking into her body heat as you close your eyes.
You hold each other for long minutes, until you break the embrace to look at Wanda tenderly. You find her to be the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. Running your fingers over her face, you smile tenderly.
- What will happen now? - you ask, and try not to be intimidated by Wanda's hesitation.
- I don't know. - She says. - I want to be with you.
- Are you ready to admit this to everyone?
Wanda closes her eyes for a moment, and you think she is going to deny it. But then she nods in agreement, and you feel a new surge of excitement hit you.
You let out a relieved laugh, and kiss Wanda's cheek, pulling her into a hug. She giggles against your grip. You then settle down, sitting side by side as you put an arm around her shoulders and she leans her head on your chest. Wanda intertwines your hands in her lap as you gaze out over the ocean in front of you.
- Do you really think Darcy and Elizabeth wouldn't be together? - she asks, and you laugh, not moving away.
- Actually, I just disagreed with you, because you're hot when you're mad. - You joked, making her laugh.
The night went by quickly after that. You and Wanda cuddled while talking about various random subjects. You watched the sunset together, and she kissed you hard before getting on the bus to her house.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#high school au#marvel imagines#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x reader#wandaxreader
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we’re fools. (bucky barnes x reader)
summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.
(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)
pairing: college au!bucky x reader
warnings: alcohol, mentions of depression, angst, bucky is a cocky bitch, but bucky also needs a hug
(other parts) (masterlist)
part 1/3:
It’s December, his sophomore year of college and Bucky’s watching you again. From afar, always from afar. He’s scared if he goes near, something will give him away and you’ll laugh at him. He doesn’t remember when his fixation started but he’s certain it’ll pass. A load of girls on campus like him. Sometimes he thinks he likes some of them back. But not you. Bucky doesn’t like you. He’s beyond you. (Actually, you’re beyond him. He would never admit that.) He watches you and notices how your fringe has grown the last few weeks and how a few strands are falling down your eyes. You brush them away and keep writing your essay. He decides it’d be better if he started writing his too. You’re a year younger but he knows you’ll probably get a higher score than him anyway. You’re good with words, he has noticed.
-
It’s March, your freshman year and you breathe out. You’re leaving the library, arms wrapped around books about Hamlet and Shakespeare, when you see him. Lately he seems to be everywhere you are. It’s getting annoying. You promise yourself you won’t stare at him again, but you cheat a few times. He’s wearing one of his overpriced shirts and he smiles at a sophomore girl. You know Bucky Barnes. You’d known him even if you didn’t want to. Because everybody does. Because that’s who he is. Everything you dislike about the world distilled into one label-whoring, conceited, 5′11″ tall boy. And everybody seems to be smitten with him.
He comes to you first.
“It’s destiny, Y/N,” he says, a smug look on his face, “third time I bump into you today.”
You tense. This is new. Usually, you don’t talk to each other if not for arguing in Romance Literature class. It’s one of the two classes you share.
“I must be very lucky.” Bucky chuckles and it’s somewhat engaging because he hasn’t given you a smile since the first day you met him.
“Admission office is on the left, doll”.
You had thought he was nice then. And beautiful. God, he was so beautiful. Please, he’s not. He’s an arrogant smartass. And now he’s standing here and for some seconds he laughs and you can see the dimples in his cheeks. You blink.
His light eyes divert to the books you’re holding.
“Try not to have too much fun.”
He mocks and walks away.
-
It’s July, end of sophomore year and Bucky joins a summer book club. (He doesn’t tell anyone. He enjoys his facade.) Every morning he grabs an iced latte and a butter croissant and he goes to the meetings. He reads a lot. And he loves it. It helps him feel. It’s a getaway. Bucky always stands proud and tall, trying to hide how easily he can be torn.
Running one finger along the starched collar of his shirt, he reads quietly and he considers the ever-changing art of literature; words and metaphors that allow him to imagine entire worlds and fathom his own sensitivities. He almost feels vulnerable. He decides that reading together with another person is an intimate act and he’s thankful he doesn’t really have any interest in anyone in the club.
But then it’s Monday and his teenage dream walks in, hair falling gracefully your shoulders, Gone with The Wind in your left hand. And it could have been the sun gleaming through the windows, but Bucky swears his whole being flickers. In a way or another he always responds to your presence.
You sit two rows behind of him and when he involuntary turns to you, you look surprised and yet you smile.
He tries to avoid you and he’s good at it, until someone decides it’d be fun to present the next book in groups. You’re the only two without a friend there and you end up paired together.
“I don’t like this.” he says.
“Oh, I know.” you whisper.
You spend an evening in his dorm, discussing the author and the plot holes. At first, he talks a lot, trying to impress you. But then he lays on his back, listening to the summer rain outside and you reading out loud. Regardless of what you feel for each other, he thinks it’s a beautiful sound.
Next morning, he buys two butter croissants instead of one.
-
It’s October, your sophomore year and you’re not exactly friends. Or enemies. Bucky has stopped teasing you and you think it’s because of your days in the book club. Actually, it’s because he’s dating Natasha Romanoff now and he promised he’d be kinder.
You realize sooner or later and you say it’s obvious you don’t care. (Who is it obvious to?) The girl is pretty, clever and vibrant and she’s a good person. You like her. You just can’t figure out what she sees in Bucky.
-
It’s January, his junior year and he’s not doing well. He knows it’s his fault (he always loved half-heartedly) and that makes the hurting worse. It’s guilt driven. He tries to get Nat back but she’s not ready. And it’s awful because nobody warned him and he didn’t know; it’s hard to feel lovable after a break up. He desperately needs a distraction. He pushes himself past his breaking point. Carves his grades into the back of his neck. Devours facts and theorems. Almost joins the football team for extra credit. But to be honest he’s never been that much into sports. Debate team, it is.
That’s where he truly learns to despise you. Who do you think you are? The proud jaw, those smart eyes, your feet planted on the ground as if the world’s wisdom belongs to you. You’re at your best while he’s at his lowest point.
He watches you and then he watches himself.
“Your last argument was weak,” you say, raising your eyebrows, “you should concentrate more.”
Bucky bites his lip in frustration.
“You’re not the boss around here.” He says, crossing his arms in his chest, “You may think you are, but you’re not.”
(Technically she is, Bucky. She’s the captain of the team.)
“Don’t start again.” You sigh. “I just want us to win next week.”
He rolls his eyes at you. He would never admit it out loud but a part of him is enjoying this. Feuding with Y/N feels natural. It reminds him of who he is. And he feeds on that.
He takes a step towards you.
“Of course, so you can take all the credit.”
You just stare at him. Sometimes you don’t understand what Bucky is trying to prove. That he’s better? Or that you’re worse? You hate it. How quickly he can make you lose your temper.
(How quickly he can exhilarate you.)
“If you don’t like the team,” you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze, “you’re free to leave.”
Bucky laughs. This is how you are. This is how you will always be. Both strong, you just, him lost.
“You need me to win, Y/N,” he sets his shoulders back and smirks, “I’m good at this.” He remains close to you and refuses to look away. He can see you parting your lips for a second or two.
(Did he just glance at your lips?)
“I know you are,” you breath out and Bucky is incredulous, “so start acting like it.”
(Did you just compliment him?)
-
It’s the first day of February, your sophomore year and you think you’re losing your sanity. Bucky invites everyone at his dorm to celebrate their victory at the National Debate Championship. And it’s strange because Bucky never really invites anyone he doesn’t like. If you didn’t know him, you would have bet that he’s been feeling lonely.
You don’t want to go at first. But you’re glad you do. Under the green lights he has installed and all the alcohol in his body, he looks different and it’s the first time you genuinely see him. A boy with silky black hair, blue eyes and skin that looks like it’d be cool to touch. There’s something attractive about him, in a rugged way, and you’re seeing it again after a long time.
Your allergies must have gotten in your head.
He doesn’t talk a lot that night. Not to you. Not to anyone. You deduce pretty early that Bucky just wanted company to drink. You wonder if he’s still messed up because of the break up.
Probably. Everyone on campus is talking about how Natasha was hanging out with that boy, Clint.
He tells you, you don’t have to, but you still stay to help him clean up.
“Why are you doing this, Y/N?” His voice is low.
You started taking a new antihistamine, maybe it’s the side effects.
“It’s called being nice,” you say firmly, “you should try it.”
Bucky makes a little humming sound and keeps collecting plastic cups. The room is quiet, but for the sound of trash bags and you count the seconds before you speak again.
“How are you?”
“I’m not that drunk, don’t worry.” He half-answers, half laughs but he pronounces the last word with enough irony.
“No, I meant,” you breath, “Is everything okay with you?”
“Seriously, you make no sense Y/N.” He’s careful not to look at you.
“I just wanted to say,” your voice sways for a second, you’re a novice in talking with him about anything different than books and words and that makes you weak and nervous, “You’ll be back with Natasha, I’m sure.”
Bucky’s face hardens around the edges, his eyes saying more about him than any words could. He comes close to you and it could have been the smell of alcohol but you feel like you want to throw up.
“You and I, we’re not friends.”
You don’t blink. You stare blankly at him, waiting for what follows. But he just leaves the room.
You promise you will never go to any of his parties again.
...
feedback is so appreciated and motivates me tons, thank you :)
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#college au#au!bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#hassandra#bucky barnes x you#sebastian stan#alternate universe#alternate universe bucky#natasha romanoff#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan x reader#fools
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YOU WON’T PLAY, YOU’RE NO FUN — PROF!CHRIS
summary: chris evans is your professor with whom you’ve had an affair with since the beginning of the semester. you meet with him over zoom with your fellow teammates to discuss your project, but you can’t seem to get into the right mindset. instead of providing the group with clever comments and ideas, all you do is test the limits of chris’ patience and self control.
warnings: don’t have sex with your prof please, mentions of online classes, smut including: established dom/sub relationship & teacher/student relationship (abuse of power used strictly as a joke, they are both 18+ and consensual), degradation, masturbation & mutual masturbation, edging. MINORS DON’T READ NOR INTERACT.
word count: 1500
notes: rail me daddy :) i’m a hoe for teacher/student if you can’t tell already. i do keep it vague by not mentioning any majors, don’t worry! it’s my first time writing for chris, so please, be kind!!! i hope you enjoy reading this mess!!!! ily <3
gif credits: capsgrantrogers blessing us with this low quality webcam goodness.
“Miss /Y/L/N, would you mind staying a little longer? I need to talk to you.” Chris’ voice resonated as your classmates went quiet before they waved their cameras goodbye and left the two of you alone.
Uh oh.
“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” By the time you were done with your question, you noticed that his face was frozen. “Mister Evans! Chris?! I think there’s an issue I can’t — hear you.” You sighed and rolled your eyes. You seriously needed to get that Internet connection checked. You had your hand on your laptop, ready to close it up when you heard the familiar noise of a video call, but this time it was a private conversation.
“Don’t want anybody to walk in on us, right?” Chris winked and smirked at you. You had a flashback of that one time you hooked up in his office and realized his door was left ajar when you could hear the secretary of the department arguing with the printer. You thanked your guardian angel (who must had been very disappointed) that you were just on your knees blowing him off, and that nothing too serious was going on.
You laughed, for a second you thought you were in trouble.
“What was that all about?” Chris questioned, his smirk disappeared and was replaced by a dark expression.
“I have no clue what you’re referring too.” You shrugged lightly and looked at the screen, wishing he had chosen another shirt that showcased his tattoos. You were lucky enough to see his arms from the short sleeves, you felt as aroused as royal men back in the day when they saw a woman’s ankles.
Chris clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Oh, really? There is no explanation to the attitude you’ve been giving your teammates and me all morning?”
You sighed again, loud enough for him to hear you. “They’re idiots and I’m sick of their shit. They’re not doing anything on the project yet they show off in front of you just to —“
“Got it, they’re dumb and you’re smart.” He put the emphasis on the last few words. “Tell me, Miss, if you’re that smart, how come you’ve made the very stupid decision to be rude to me as well?”
You swallowed thickly. You were just so pissed off, exhausted from the all nighter you had to do in order to complete the requirements for today’s class. “Chris, look, you know it wasn’t about you...” You heard him cough. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
“I’d call you a good girl, but good girls don’t talk back and they certainly don’t act so bratty. What a potty mouth, you swore in front of everybody. Do I have to teach you manners too? I’m afraid that’s not listed on my tasks as your professor, too bad.”
“I said I was sorry! You know how much I hate them!”
“Do I have to give you a bad grade for not cooperating? Not everybody is as understanding as me, you need to learn that.”
He sounded so arrogant, so condescending. As much as you hated it, it turned you on. You were all squirmy on your chair, and he caught up on that.
“Tell me, what’s on your mind, princess? Why are you on the edge?”
You looked up through your lashes, letting out a complaint. That fucker. The last time you met, which was over a week ago, he had an emergency and had to leave his apartment to go on campus. How convenient, you had not finished and you were left breathless and worked up on his bed. He made you promise not to touch yourself without permission on his way out. He knew just how impatient you could get. All the needy texts you sent him while he was looking over his other classes during an exam; all the begging you did over the phone while he insisted on doing small talk.
“You won’t play with me,” you pouted at the screen. “You’re no fun.”
He chuckled, his voice sounded lower than usual while he sat up on his chair. He loved this game with you, probably as much as you did if not more.
You noticed his arm disappeared out of the frame. You’d do ten other team works with your stupid colleagues if it meant you’d be the one to take care of his hard on at that very moment.
“Oh, baby wanna have fun? Is that it? You should have told me sooner!” He cleared his throat when he heard you sigh again, giving you a warning. “Get those fingers nice and wet for me.”
You obeyed, sucking on two fingers of your dominant hand. You picked up on the back and forth movements of his arm, he was palming at his crotch. You caught a glimpse of him standing up — he was in tight Calvin Klein boxers — and sitting back down, his cock freed from his clothes. “I’ve been good, Sir. So good.”
He nodded slowly, after spitting in his hand and starting to fist his cock. “Oh, really?”
You nodded frantically. “I haven’t touched myself since you left,” you pulled your hand away from your mouth, a string of saliva fell down your chin. “I’ve been so wet for you, Sir. You’re all I’ve been thinking about.”
“Then think about my fingers rubbing your clit.” He groaned, the speed of his arm motions increased.
You jerked on your chair at the contact of your fingers, your panties were soaked from your arousal. “Sir!” You moaned out when you circled faster against the bundle of nerves.
“You’re so fucked up for me, you’d rather cum on your fingers than on my face, huh?” You felt tears pooling in your eyes. “Stop touching yourself and answer me.”
You pulled your hand away, showing it to the camera so he believed you. “I want to cum so bad, Sir! Please, just once! And I’ll wait until we meet again. I need it!”
“And I need to fuck that tight little cunt of yours and you don’t hear me complainin’.” His bicep flexed in his tight shirt, his breathing got heavier. “I waited for you the entire week. I didn’t text you in the middle of the night begging like a desperate slut.” He nodded, indicating you could start rubbing again.
You moaned loudly, throwing your head back. He was edging you, again.
“Eyes on me, Baby. Need to see you.”
It took so much energy just to keep your eyes open.
“Faster.” He growled, he was so close too. You could feel it, even if he was far away.
“Sir, please!”
“Stop, stop right fucking now.” He pulled away from his swollen cock at the same time as you did. “I won’t tolerate attitude like this again, you heard me?” You nodded, mouthed a ‘yes’. “I don’t want to repeat myself. You’re such a dumb little baby sometimes, I’ll probably have to.” The more he mocked you, the more you needed to touch yourself again. “Next time you act like a bitch in my class, you’ll regret it.” You never took his threats lightly. The first, and last, time that you did, you ended up bent over his knee with the belt of his dress pants spanking your ass red like the ink from the pen he used to grade papers
“I’ll count to ten. At ten, you’ll...”
“I’ll cum!” You spoke excitedly.
“Yes, Babygirl. You’ll get to cum.” He licked his lips and stroked his beard, his hand holding his sensitive cock. “Ready?”
You replied with even more enthusiasm and he started to count up.
“Slowly, 1, 2, 3...” He swallowed thickly. “Add more pressure now, 4, 5, 6,” he tightened his grip around his cock. “Faster, 7, 8, 9...” he jerked himself up at the same speed as you. “Now, cum for me. Make a mess like you’d do on my cock. That’s right, cum for me, Princess.”
The knot in your stomach finally snapped and you released yourself on your hand. You were panting and clenching around nothing, wishing you were with Chris right now.
He growled loudly as he released himself on his hand and shirt. “Look what you did to me, Baby.” He sat up just enough to show you, causing you to laugh at the sight of his messed up top.
In exchange, you showed him your slick coated fingers before you licked them clean. Blood rushed to his cock again, but he took a deep breath to calm down. “All good now?”
“Yes! Thank you, Sir.” You smiled, content and satisfied.
He wiped his hand clean with his shirt, after he removed it and let you admire his broad chest and inked drawings. “I’m giving you extra homework.”
Your smile disappeared and you squinted, mentally preparing for more readings or an extra essay on how good he fucked you. It would be your third or fourth, you ran out of synonyms to explain that he made you feel like you were on cloud nine.
“Take a shower and a nap, I’ll get to this meeting and meet you back home, okay?”
Your face lit up again, and you clapped happily.
“See? I can be fun when I want to.”
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second best.
tanaka ryūnosuke x reader; tanaka ryūnosuke x kyoko shimizu
genre: angst, heartbreak, cheating
word count: 1.5k
cw: insecurity
She was beautiful. Her silky black hair, perfect nose, nicely framed glasses, and a cute mole on her chin. Anyone could see it, every volleyball team in the tri-state area attempted to get her number. Kiyoko Shimuzu was her name, and you could not help but see the way your boyfriend looks at her.

The three of you went to school together, since primary. A trio, one would call it ever since the third grade. At recess, kids would say, “It’s no surprise that Y/N, Kiyoko, and Tanaka are all partnered together.” and during a specific game of soccer, you accidentally tripped over the ball and skid your knee. You bit your lip hard, trying not to cry in front of everyone. Your eyes were watery, at the fact that your knee hurt like hell and now everyone was staring at you. To your surprise, Tanaka ran over to you to help you up and guide you to the clinic. When you got there, the nurse sat you down and poured alcohol onto cotton balls. Tanaka offered his hand, and you gripped it lightly, with a slight shade of pink on your cheeks. It was a cute moment until the nurse dabbed onto your joint. Then, you tightly squeezed Tanaka’s hand and screamed some very colorful words. That night, your mom scolded you and sent you straight to your room. While you lay on your bed, you could not help but smile at the event that happened that afternoon. This was the start of your attraction towards Tanaka Ryūnosuke.

When you got to middle school, puberty started to hit you like a truck. The rapid growth of hormones made your face acne-infested. While everyone told you it was normal, you could not help but question why does Kiyoko’s face not look like this then? Her skin was clear and had a nice dew to it. The amount of money spent on drug store products could buy you a whole store. Acne was inevitable, already eating at your brain, and planting their seed called insecurity. Tanaka would always call Kiyoko terms like, ‘gorgeous’ and ‘goddess’ while you had what- ‘funny’? The summer going into high school, you decided to get medical help. Immediately, you were put on accutane. You did not want to see anyone during that whole summer, especially Tanaka. Accutane made your face very dry, crackled, and forced you to put on chapstick every minute. Locking yourself into your room all summer, made you lonely.
Sometimes, you could hear Tanaka and Kiyoko walk by your house and hear them say, “Has Y/N ever responded to your texts? It’s like she’s a ghost.” Tanaka asked.
“Nope, she hasn’t even answered to get our nails done, she must seriously be ghosting us,” Kiyoko responded.
You tear up at the guilt of ignoring your closest friends, but it’s hard when you’re in love with one of them and envious of the other. You did not want your toxic mindset upheld against them, so you justified that it was just for the best.
When fall came around, it was back to school. Your first year. The Accutane, though traumatizing, worked. In addition, being trapped in your room all day introduced you to makeup. Looking in the mirror, you actually started to like what you saw in the mirror. You’ve learned self-care and it paid off. Scanning the sheets on the wall, it looked like Tanaka was in your class and Kiyoko was in the honors one.
“Class 2-B” you read aloud to yourself and sat down at a desk. You left the one seat open next to you, just for Tanaka. When you saw him walk in, your heart skipped a beat. He looked different, in a good way. His hair was shaved, taller, and looked more mature. When you waved over to him, he just glared at you and sat at the seat farthest from you. This made your heart drop. Why was he acting like this? Did I do something? Does he not want to be my friend anymore? Questions rambling in your head. During lunch, you headed over to his desk and pulled the chair behind you to sit down. He just stared at you intently, furrowing his brows signifying anger.
“Ryo-channn, look what I brought,” you gleefully rang, knowing that he would never in a million years refuse your mom’s onigiris. When you took out your bento, you grabbed the onigiri with your hand and put it near his mouth. Still looking at you angrily, he took a bite from the onigiri in your hand and looked away from you.
“What’s wrong?” you worried. He did not respond, so you asked again. “You can’t just act like I don’t exist Ryo, especially if you’re eating from my invisible hand.”
“That’s funny, me acting like YOU don’t exist when you ghosted me for three months? I thought we were best friends, Y/N.” Now, you finally understood why he was so upset. Before you could speak up, there was a knock at the entrance, “Ryo, want to grab lunch together?” Kiyoko said in a monotone voice. It seems that Kiyoko too was also mad at you. You could not help it though, you and Kiyoko were basically sisters up until that summer. “Yeah, let me grab my stuff,” Ryo picked up all his belongings and left you in the dust.
That day, you waited for both of them after practice. Kiyoko was a manager and Tanaka was on the team. Two birds, one stone. When they walked out together, they both saw you. Murmuring to each other. You took a deep breath, “Listen, I’m sorry for not texting you guys back and not spending time with you during the summer. I-it’s just that I felt so i-insecure with myself, I didn’t want to bring you guys down with me y’know?” Tears started welling up in your eyes, you continued, “I would hear you guys talk about me when you passed by my house, and it took everything I had to not just run out and hug you guys. But, I couldn’t. I hated myself for the longest time and I was scared that you two would start to notice it. So, I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore, but you guys needed an explanation.” You sighed and started to turn around and leave. You fell to your feet, with two bodies tackling you down. “G-guys?” your eyes are still watery. Laughter emitted from their voices, “Don’t do it again or else we will kill you,” Kiyoko threatened.

It was the final set, both teams were tied. Yamaguchi was serving and Aoba Johsai hit it back with ease. The rally probably lasted around a minute, but to everyone, it was slowed down. Until, Tanaka passed the ball to Kageyama, and everyone thought he’d set it Hinata. Instead, he setter dumped. The crowd was silent, not realizing what just happened. Karasuno just won the preliminaries. Every student screamed and chanted at them. You and a couple of other people ran down to congratulate. You ran up to Tanaka’s arms and squeezed him. He swung you around joyfully, and you pulled your face back. There was a moment where it felt like it was just the two of you. The adrenaline of winning finally got to you, and you impulsively kissed him. It lasted maybe around a second or two before you finally realized what you were doing. Mortified, you were rambling with apologies.
“Can you please just forget this ever happen-” he cut you off. Warm lips were pressed onto your lips. You were shocked at first but slowly sunk into the kiss. This was the start of your relationship with Tanaka Ryūnosuke.
Kiyoko never spoke about her feelings about her best friends dating. In fact, she hated it. But it was out of character for her to be so opinionated. She could not stand the fact that you guys would cuddle during movie night nor how he would hold your hand during the walk home. She did not necessarily like Tanaka that way, but she did miss the attention he gave her. Who wouldn’t want someone calling you pretty 24/7? And to reject them was a power move. No one would ever know, but he was the reason why her confidence shot up. The confidence to reject handsome men on different teams. All started because of Tanaka. Although, now that he was with you, the flirting stopped. She could feel herself start to become jealous and it started to infect her brain. During practice, Yachi would gush about how cute you and Tanaka were while Kiyoko just had to listen.
“Y/N is too cute,” Yachi cheesed. Kiyoko couldn't take it anymore, “Listen, I am way prettier than Y/N and Tanaka could do much better” it just slipped out. She was surprised at what she just said, and even more surprised that she didn’t even feel an ounce of guilt.
“Like you?” a voice appeared. It was Tanaka. “R-Ryo,” she muttered. “We should talk outside.”
Once they were both outside, Tanaka spoke first.
“You don’t get to do this. You rejected me countless times and now t-that I’m with someone you can’t just profess your feelings for me.” Tanaka hissed.
“I-I know, it’s just- I didn’t realize what I had until I lost it. Imagine how I feel seeing you guys together, the man I love with someone else. Someone who is inferior to me.” Tears welled up in Kiyoko’s eyes.
“Do you even hear yourself right now? Love? Please. You don’t love me. You never will.” He bit his lip sharply.
Silence.
“Then look at me and tell me you don’t love me. Because not once have you said that you didn’t feel the same way, you only said that you were dating Y/N” Kiyoko sobbed.
“You know I can’t do that,” Tanaka whispered. Then, Kiyoko leeched on him, pressing her lips against his. He wasn’t kissing back, but he wasn’t pulling away either. He was conflicted. He was too dazed and decided to just give in.
Little did they both know, there you were watching at the scene. Well, now you were hiding behind a wall, peeking at them, kissing. You could physically hear your heart-shattering. After wiping the nonstop tears flowing on your face, you left.

Grief turned into anger. You threw every picture, gift, and sweater into the trash bag. Your eyes only saw red. Your room was left bare and cold. The bedroom door knocked in a rhythmic beat that only one person did. When he walked in, his eyes gazed at every spot in your room. It was empty.
You looked down at the ground, “I always knew I was second best in your heart.” You whispered, tears threatening your eyes. “What?” His face contorted in a confused stance. “I should’ve seen it coming y’know? But I just thought maybe— maybe he’d pick me.” You continued. He started getting worried, “What’re you talking about?” The fact that he was here, blatantly lying to you, gives you all the answers you needed.
“Please don’t act like that, not with me”
“Act like what?”
“Clueless. Ry-Tanaka,” you corrected yourself. “If you love her, then go for it. But don’t act like you’re still in love with me. It hurts-” Your voice broke mid-sentence.
“It was a mistake,” He pleaded.
“A mistake? No, mistakes happen impulsively. T-This whole thing with Kiyoko was premeditated. All my life, I have been trying to compete with her. Grades, appearances, and even you. And when I had you, I thought, I had won. I won the best prize ever. You. But now-” You dropped to your knees, “I don’t even have you.”
He wiped your tears with his hands, “But you do, you do have me,”
“No, no I don’t,” you denied.
“Yes you do baby, I’m right here. I choose you.”
You were not some decision, you were his girlfriend and yet, he thought that would make you happier. “Nonono, you don’t get it. I don’t want you anymore. These tears aren’t for you, they’re for me. Seeing you kiss Kiyoko? I felt nothing and that scared me. Maybe I wasn’t in love with you, maybe I just wanted to beat Shimizu that bad. Who knows? But, by the looks of it, I did win. I got to you first.” You punctuated every word, prying his hands off your face. Of course, you were lying your ass off. You’ve loved this man ever since that day in recess. Revenge had poisoned your heart though, and you wanted him to feel an ounce of you were feeling.
“We’re done. There I have let you go, now you are free to do anything you want with Kiyoko. Date her or reject her, it’s not my issue anymore.” Tanaka couldn’t even recognize you anymore. Though it was your voice and your physical look, it was like your soul had been drained, and in replacement was someone who was cold and emotionless.

A/N: I’m back! I’ve fixed my writing style so everything is capitalized properly. Requests are greatly appreciated! Just shoot a message. Also, this story was inspired by my drabble and a person actually asked me to write one for Tanaka, so here you go @aestheticno !
likes & repubs are greatly appreciated. :D
#haikyuu angst#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fanfiction#tanaka x you#hq tanaka#tanaka angst#hq kiyoko#tanaka fluff
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"Watanabe."
Sato spoke in a firm tone as he leaned against the wall behind him, arms crossed with difficult-to-read expression across his face. He was never a fan of lecturing his students like this, but it needed to be done every now and then. Kids were getting more and more stubborn nowadays, and he's not sure who to blame.
"We've discussed this in the past during our classes. Have you forgotten? Tell me." The teacher waited for an answer from the injured boy, his voice loud and clear with instruction.
A soft huff came from the boy. He felt like he was somehow dying and dead at the same time. Everything hurt. Everything felt terrible.
"... I was winning." He croaked. Whether that was really true or not didnt seem to matter. Maybe he fried his brain a little...
"You were winning in a losing battle with yourself, Watanabe." The teacher had raised his voice a little with urgency, "So many times. I've told you to never overuse your quirk like that." Even while wearing the mask it was clear how loud his voice was getting as he spoke, a growing exasperated appearance on his usually calm face.
"Do you understand the risks you physically take when you pull of stunts like these, Watanabe? Do you?"
....
He turned his head away from his teacher, grunting lightly. Hell, even that simple movement hurt like hell-- "Everyone's quirks b-.. Backfires somehow." Sniff. "... 's not my fault-... Not my fault mine sucks." If he had just gone a little further he could have knocked her out of the ring. Could have proceeded. Hell, he might have won the entire event!
A sigh.
He was crying. Sato took a deep breath to calm himself down and massaged the bridge of his nose.
"You're not listening to me, you can't even answer my question." His brain really was that close to getting melted, his student's basically delusional at this point. He can't think of anything else. Sato really is grateful to have a co-teacher like Lucca to act as referee. Their special class of unique students were a bit stubborn, almost comparable to the current third years when they were younger.
"I've told everyone in class to not overuse their quirk, not just you." The teacher leafed through Taishiro's medical papers, briefly going through the history of his quirk. "Do you understand where I'm going, Watanabe?" Based on the student's expression alone, he knew he wasn't listening.
Previous records of burns. Overuse. Overheating in summer. Some brief notes about malnutrition and possible neglect from a few years back-
"......"
Was he listening? Tired? Or did he fuck himself up and needed longer to think? Oh lord.. ".... Ss.." ow
".... Sato-sensei... I-- gh... You don't get it at all." sniffle. Ow existing is painful. "... I-i have to."
"You don't." His voice stayed unyielding, but kinder. "You don't have to, Watanabe."
Sato set the papers beside away, handing it to Recovery Girl who watched with a worried expression. "It's...a high school event," he approached, sitting at the foot of the bed where his student rested. "Watanabe. It's a sports festival. You are a sixteen years old teenage student who shouldn't be focusing on studies and making friends."
"...."
Sniff
".... You d.. you don't get it-" It felt like no one did "You just-- S-sometimes you just gotta deal with a little pain- UGH-" Yoshie look what you did you fucked up the kid- He squeezed his eyes(?) Closed. "T-... To get where you need to.."
"A little." He repeated, "A little pain." Sato felt a nerve pop at how Tai's words, but let it slide. Take a deep breath, you're past your prime, Osamu. It's his story, not yours. Don't make it about you. The kid needs this. He needs you right now.
The teacher pointed to his pitch-black hands, his injuries, his bandages, his current state of being. There was even a constant, soft whirring of a fan as his student recovered in bed. "You're going to get yourself killed before you can get where you need to, Taishiro. I can't let you do this."
His hands twitched. There was an attempt to ball his fists, but the pain didn't do any favours.. If he kept this up then he'd lose the functions in his hands entirely, if not the hands themselves.
"W-" An attempt to sit up. Very short lived though. "Y-you're not kicking me out of the tournament are you?!" Owie his throat. "You can't do that!"
"Stay still, Watanabe-kun!" Recovery Girl raised her voice from her seat, upset. "You shouldn't move around so much in your condition. You're going to stay here until you've stabilized." She crossed her arms. "Anything happens to you, and it's going to be on me!"
"You heard the boss," Sato turned back to his student, putting a sympathetic hand on Tai's blanketed knee. "Please, you need all the rest you can get. You need this more than anything else right now."
B- but that's not fair!!!" He shook a little. Pain? Anger? Who knows. "I was so close-- You can't do this to me, Sensei!!!" Oop tears ahoy
"Close to dying, if that was your goal." The teacher's expression was solemn, serious. This conversation was getting nowhere, and his student continued to be stubborn and in denial. He wished he could stay here for him, but he's got his job as a homeroom teacher cut out for him. He has other students to tend to, but this one...he might not be enough for Tai.
"I don't want you risking your life out there, against your own classmates. It's. A sports festival. You're supposed to be having fun out there." Sato pointed to the window, where the stadium could be seen from the clinic, "You enrolled here to become a hero, didn't you? What's the point if you don't make it to fighting villains? You won't be anywhere close if everything ends here."
"If I can't handle a sports festival how am i going to handle villains?!??" Angy.. "I-its not my fault I was matched with someone powerful!!"
"No hero gets to choose who they'll fight on the battle field. That's exactly what you're here in UA, Watanabe." Sato raked his fingers through his own locks, giving his student a meaningful glance. "To learn."
The usually tired teacher's eyes began to blaze with passion. "You're going to exactly learn how to, without endangering yourself. I've been teaching you how to, haven't I?" He didn't enroll into education for nothing, after all. "Or perhaps my classes really are that boring, hm?" Sato passed a joking glare towards Taishiro, recalling his grades and current standing.
".. I was winning" Huff "You should be happy about that... One of your students was doing good.. And now you're blocking him from winning"
He's not listening. Teenagers really are a different breed, huh?
The bed shifted from Sato's weight as he slowly moved towards the other student before gently, softly, enveloping Taishiro in the warmest hug he could give without adding pain to his injuries.
"You've done amazingly, well beyond my expectations...and now you need to rest. I'm so sorry I have to stop you here, when you're so close. I really am." Sato brings a hand behind Taishiro's head, carefully caressing his brightly coloured hair. He strokes the back of his head gently, speaking in a voice just as tender.
"I'm more than happy, Watanabe. Thank you for being a proud, strong student of Class 1-X."
He flinches a little from the pressure. Ow- Injury--
Whens the last time someone pet his hair like this? Not since he was tiny, probably. It was nice. Reminded him of snoozing on his dads lap on the way home from the park.
...
Sniff.
Sniff sniff-
The tears were already there, of course, but this just made it worse, thick black tears pouring from his eyes(?) Mann.. Even after all of that. After almost melting himself alive. After being so stubborn..
He was still just a teenager.
Hic-
He trembled, hiccuping as his lip trembled... And finally fully giving into his tears. Wailing onto his teacher. Sorry Sato your shirt is gonna get stained
It's not the first time Sato's shirt got stained with black tears. If anything, he's just happy to be there for his students in their time of need. He continues speaking what's on his mind, all the while hugging and comforting him via headpats.
"You kids are going to be the future. You guys are going to protect us when the time is right," voice low and soothing, he kept going. "So as your teacher, I can't have you risking your life as early as now. It would be my fault if something bad happened to you, it meant I didn't teach right."
He leaned back, breaking the hug. Even with the mask, Sato's smile was evident as his eyes crinkled with encouragement and pride towards Taishiro. "So with that, please continue being a good student, 'kay? Study well and become a great hero."
Hic hic hic--
Oh he's a mess. Aw man the bandages are gonna get stained too. :C
He kept shaking. Pained. Both emotionally and physically. God he was so tired-- "I-i'm trying!!"
"Trying a bit too hard, I'd say." Sato laughed softly, if not a bit cocky.
"You'll need some extra remedial classes if you want to be a good hero. And maybe some extra focus." Before he could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. Ah, right on time. Recovery Girl glanced as Sato put away his phone into his pocket, did he contact someone?
"Come right in, sir. The door's open."
Sniff...
He lifted his head. Another doctor maybe? Who would- ...
"Taishiro-!"
Oh lord-
Yoshie wastes no time. He's still in his pizza place uniform. Pizza smell. Pizza man.. He dashes over to grab and hold his son, of course causing the kid a little more pain but- Hey he could deal. Proabbly-
"D- Dad?!"
"Tai- Taishiro i saw everything--" He grabbed his son by the shoulders, face full of concern.
"How could you do that to yourself?! Do you know how dangerous that was?!?!"
"Dad...-"
"No! You can't-- Son. You can't keep doing this!!"
"I was winni-" "YOU WERE KILLING YOURSELF, TAI."
...
Oh
Tai is pulled in for a tight hug again, his father tearing up as he holds his son protectively, tai looking stunned for a moment.
"You can't do that-- Why would--" A sniff. From Yoshie this time. "..You're my only son, Tai! You can't do that to yourself!"
The father turned his head a little, looking at the teacher. ".. I-is it possible for me to take him home? Watch over his recovery?"
Sato hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well...it's a miracle the match ended before things for irreversible. It's another miracle that we've got such an amazing nurse on our side, too." He glances over to Recovery Girl for an opinion. "What do you say, Ma'am?"
"He's still a bit unstable, so we need to watch over him a bit more. He did too much work this festival, so..." The school nurse herself huffs, always with the tendency to scold those she heals up. "Learn to control yourself, young man! You're still a teenager, don't risk yourself at this age!" She raises her cane, gesturing to all the other students in the ward. "And that goes for all of you, too! Got that?!" A collective groan from the injured students follows, sounding like a "yes, ma'am."
The teacher decided to continue for her, "He should be okay to bring home by tomorrow." He placed a hand on Yoshie's shoulder, kind but firm. "Don't worry Watanabe-san, your son is in good hands."
"...."
A small nod, before he turns back to his son, cupping the students face.
"Tai.. I know it's not been easy. I know-.. I know i've not been the best father to you-" Two idiots be crying "... But this-..You can't do this. Not for my sake.." Looks like he saw the rin match. oop. "You have to do things for yourself. Make friends! ignore your work-- Hell, get another piercing- Just.. Don't give up your youth for me, Tai."
"D..."
All of this was for him.. All of this was.. All... "
... D-daaad-!!"And back to wailing he goes, his father chuckling a little through his own tears, holding him close. and letting his son cry it out. There was a lot of healing to be done, but at least this time he'd fight like hell to be around to help with it.
Sato watched as the two cried in each others arms, relieved that things turned out pretty well in the end. He excused himself from the clinic, waved goodbye to the nurse, father, and patient.
Now, then...
As soon as he closed the infirmary door behind him, Hikari, the redheaded girl from the other class was clutching her cellphone anxiously as she stuttered to find her voice. He wasn't well acquainted with her, but knew she did rather well in his class knowing that she received some sort of prior training from her pro hero relatives with that unfortunate quirk of hers. And she's the last of Class 1-Y standing...if anything, he's a bit worried considering Lucca's most anxious student is going to fight his scariest, angriest student.
"It's okay. He's doing well." He craned his neck as he looked up at the towering high schooler, "It's not your fault."
Taishiro didn't know Hikari's immunity to heat and fire. Trying to pull off a stunt like burning himself up in the inside to try and fry her only backfired completely. She couldn't do anything either, doing her damnedest to keep herself in the stage even if he kept rewounding time. Lucca must have noticed her student's distress in trying to get close to Taishiro to stop him. I really have to treat her to drinks sometime, it's tough being a teacher.
"S.....S-Sensei...."
A broken whimper stopped his trail of thought.
"Ah, sorry. You want me to escort you back to the stadium? Don't worry, I know Fuwa is scary and all, but--"
"........it's not th-that...."
Sato raised a brow and observed her movements. She's always trembling, but...she's shaking pretty badly. The student looks like she just finished crying, puffy eyes, nose and all. She clutched her phone close to her body before opening her mouth again. Hikari recalled the conversation she had on the phone and mustered up all the courage she had.
"I...I need to go home."
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Number Nine
Kageyama Tobio X FemReader
Part 1
About: You were introduced to the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball club during your second year. Yachi needed help after Kiyoko had taken her leave, so she asked you to join her. Although, it would have been smarter to look for a first year, but you were new and looked lonely. When you met the boys you were bit overwhelmed but they grew on you in no time. Kageyama was a little rough around the edges at first, he was awkward and couldn’t hold eye-contact. He was a blushing baboon for the first few days. He was sure to keep his distance but you only found it exciting and hilarious. Sure enough you two became friends from all your taunting and teasing. You’re about to enter your third year, and this was your make it or break it. You had to start thinking about your own future- and so did Kageyama.
The First Drop
You looked at the clouds and watched as they glided through the sky. The weatherman said it was supposed to rain later this afternoon, so you tried looking for that one cloud that hinted towards that. You were so busy looking at them you nearly tripped over a step if it wasn’t for Kageyama grabbing onto you.
“Your head is literally stuck in the clouds, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes when he tilted your head to look at him. “You’re going to fall and hurt yourself.”
You grabbed onto his sleeve and proceeded to look up again, “I won’t fall because you’ll be there to prevent it, simple.” You were so confident when you said it, it made his cheeks turn a shade of pink.
“I should let you fall so you can learn your lesson,” he pushed his glasses up his nose. He had started using them every now and then because of his sucky eyesight, all those late nights watching videos finally catching up to him. You glanced to your side watching him- he was staring straight ahead with a small pout and the same shade of pink on his cheeks. He was pretty.
He didn’t tug away from your hold, he never does now. He let you watch the clouds and was your guide through the tricky streets and potholes. You were walking to your house so you can set up your notes and help Kageyama with some homework. It became a routine last year when you learned he failed another test even though Yachi was helping both of the dummies during her lunchtime. When he showed up at your desk during lunchtime, he was ushered away by some classmates. You sleep during your lunch, and you are not to be disturbed. He remembers how you threw a book to his head when he got fed up. How are you going to give him a whole rant about grades during practice and then not tutor him during lunch!
You eventually set up a study session after practice at your house since it was nearby. Shoyo and Yachi would join you on specific dates (mostly when there was a big test coming up). But Kageyama went every day, even when there was no homework. On those days, he’d watch you read or you’d watch volleyball videos together and geek out over the professionals, which led to talking about his future; how he wanted to become the best. You loved watching his eyes shine as if he could physically see it, right then and there at arms reach.
Your mom thought you two were dating in the beginning. You would start a rant about how that wasn’t the case and how he was too dumb for you and he would say how much of bossy pants you were right to your own mother! (Although, she agreed with him). “Could’ve fooled me,” was her last comment about the subject. She got tired of you two freaking out over any small chance of her bringing it. But she loved having him over, he complimented her cooking every time.
“There it is!” you said excitedly, you pointed at this gray cloud in the distance. You grabbed Tobio’s hand and tugged him towards the cloud that was coming your way. He let out some grunts and apologized to some people you passed by and accidentally shoved. You reached a river rail and he thought he had to hold you down by the way you wanted to keep chasing after it.
“Y/N! It’s coming towards us! No need to run after it!”
You were excited, no- that’s an understatement. Was there a word for what you are?
Beautiful, he thought but quickly cleared from his mind. That’s not really what he was trying to look for. He was never good with synonyms. But you were... good with synonyms that is, well you are beautiful too- he was just thinking about the other stuff. Anyways! The cloud!
The cloud got closer and you could hear the rain. Tobio got his umbrella out and opened it up, ready for impact. When he tried to cover you with it, you let go of his hand looking at him before you shook your head. Suddenly the absence of your hand was louder than the drops, did he not notice you still holding it? You moved away and waited for the first drop to land on you and he watched you close your eyes and smile blissfully. He gulped when his heart skipped a beat. The rain was cold, he could feel how it lowered the temperature around you two, but you enjoyed it.
“Y/N,” he complained, “you’re going to get sick.”
You opened your eyes and caught his worried ones. All you could do was smile. Rain was blissful weather- it wasn’t a downer like everyone says it is, it’s therapeutic. It’s scary when it rumbles but there’s nothing like its soft drops. They refresh you and let you stop to just feel everything and nothing at once.
This was your limbo, he thought. Your perfect state of mind. He didn’t want to disturb you, so he just watched silently until you turned to him again with an idea dancing in your eyes.
“Dance with me, Tobio.”
“Wha- what! Hell no! I’m not going to join you in your sickness!” He staggered, “I don’t even know how to dance.”
“Please Tobio, one dance and we can go home and get changed so you won’t get sick.” Your eyes pleaded and he wavered instantly. He usually wins in debates, but when it was something you really wanted... how can he say no?
“Fine! But just one and we go okay?” He put his umbrella away and let the rain drench him as it had to you. You smiled at him and jumped with happiness.
“That’s exactly what I said!”
He put his hand on your waist and the other out for you to grab. You jumped into position and stepped closer to him making him go red and look away from you. You didn’t have to look at him, but you did and you enjoyed every second of it. There was no music, and it surprised you that he didn’t try to use that as an excuse, but you swayed with him. His hair was now wet and dripping drops onto your nose and it made you smile again.
Kageyama was smooth on his feet, which must be a perk from being an athlete, but you always saw him as only-on-the-court type of smooth and a clutz everywhere else. But he guided you swiftly, twirled you every now and then just to bring you right back to him. You laughed and he smiled whenever he did it. As it was coming to a halt, you rested your head on his chest and he hugged onto you. Can he just stay here? Holding onto you and you to him.
“Y/N…” he said softly breaking the trance. Of course not.
You stepped away and gave him a sad smile. “Alright, let’s go princess.” You grabbed your stuff from the floor and picked up the umbrella that he had. Kageyama didn’t move from his spot, instead, he took a deep breath and held it as you covered both of you under the umbrella. You were going to say something witty but the intensity in his eyes stopped you. “Kags?”
"Sorry… I just… uh- nevermind."
He grabbed the umbrella from your hand and set it up a bit higher. You offered a comforting smile instead of pressuring him to tell you, and he silently thanked you. As much as you loved to taunt him, you never wanted to tease him about his struggle to express himself. You'll go all day talking about his grades and clumsiness or when he messes up a serve during practice. But not this.
You and Kags walked back to the route of your house, your ETA increasing after your little detour. There was an annoying silence settling in, so you decided to compliment him.
"I didn't know you could dance, Tobio." You looked over and saw that pink shade go a little darker over his cheeks. He didn't reply so you pressed on, "Once you get a girlfriend, you have to treat her to a good dance."
You were gleaming and being supportive again. That comforting smile was stitched onto your face permanently it seems, but he didn't mind. What did bother him though was this talk about a girlfriend.
"That's ridiculous," he mumbled under his breath. You didn't catch it entirely, but it wasn't something you didn't expect from him.
You stared ahead and thought about the previous year. Kageyama had a small little fan club of admirers from a variety of students, according to Yachi, it had picked up even more during their second year. Some would give him notes during lovely holidays, hell- you'd eat his gifted chocolates with him during those days. Some of them really knew how to pick the right sweets… But you've never seen him gift one of them back. Sometimes, you wondered what would happen if you… if you would bring him sweets with a heart sketched onto a note. What would he do?
"Hey, Kags? Why don’t you date?” You didn’t mean to bring it up or maybe you did… But you didn’t want to know the answer. No matter what it was.
He shuffled a bit uncomfortable thinking it was another joke or something for you to tease him about. However, when he glanced down at you to tell you to mind your own business, he saw a rare blush. He can count on one hand the times he’s seen that blush, each memorable in their own way. His favorite was when he caught you staring while he took his shirt off in the gym and right when he was about to tease you, you denied such action and said you were daydreaming about some fantasy world.
So, he thought about it. Genuinely trying to come up with an answer. What does dating even look like? It must take up some time… He was never the best at time management, and if he’s already thinking about that it would feel like just another chore. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
“I don’t think it’s possible for me to date,” he explained, “with volleyball and practice and stuff, it’ll just be a waste...”
Oh, you thought. That is the most logical answer he could give. But you felt… you felt like that wasn’t fair. Was volleyball really going to take up all his time?
Yes, it is! He lives for the sport. It’s his everything, that’s the very same thing you love about him- admire- admire about him. So… would you be hurt if he had to cut you out, too? Are you going to just be waiting for him to leave you behind whenever his volleyball career gets more serious? You’re already taking up most of his time. Like now. The last thing you want to do is hold him back.
While you struggled with your thoughts, you were quiet and sulking outside. Kags noticed it right away.
“Are you okay?”
You snapped back to reality and gave a forced smile. “Yeah, of course.” He caught on pretty quick but instead of thinking you were bothered by it, he thought you were petty because of his answer.
“Were you planning on asking me out?” He raised his eyebrow and teased you.
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. That serious sad gleam in your eye was disappearing along with it.
“You wish, simpleton.”
You teased each other along the way, your anxieties dying down for the rest of the evening, and it was all normal for a bit. Until he left for the day, and as you watched him walk away you got that lonely feeling again.
#lovehate#tobio x y/n#KageyamaTobio#tobiokageyama#haikyu x reader#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu#fanfic#writing#story#KageyamaXreader#hq tobio#angst#hq angst#haikyuu anime#anime
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You're four years old. You still share a nanny with your little sister, but most of the time, she pays attention to you. She talks differently. The shows she watches and the calls she takes are in a jumble of sounds you don't recognize but you want to, because you want to know everything and you're always bored. So you listen. You listen to her and you learn and you practice at night by yourself until one day she's on the phone while you eat your lunch and she asks why her sister is in the hospital. When you ask if her sister is okay in that same strange language, her face turns white and she leaves for a long time. Dad calls you into his office. Your nanny talks to you in her words and you talk back because you can, and you've been working so hard on it. You ask your dad if you're in trouble and he says no. The next day you meet another woman with long braids and she makes you read in this strange language and practice it with her. She says it's Spanish. You don't know what that means. But you learn, because it's something to do. Your nanny calls your baby sister Princessa instead of just the baby and you ask her why. She says because everyone should have a name. The two of you call her Princess and Princessa and sometimes you're allowed to help brush her hair.
You're six years old. Kendall is in trouble again but you don't know why, and his homework is spread all over the table. He spends hours on it every night and sometimes cries when he can't get it done. You sit down while he's yelled at by your dad and pick up the math worksheet to do it because you want to help. It's easy and it's fun. You think Kendall will be excited he doesn't have to do it, but when he sees you scratching the answers in pencil his face turns red and he asks you if you want to see something special. He leads you into the basement. There's a dog cage. You didn't know you had dogs. Kendall tells you that you don't, and it's for people because that's Dad's job, and you'll have to do that job too. He opens the door and says to get in and locks the door. It's so that when you're older, it doesn't scare you. When you tell him it scares you now, he rolls his eyes and leaves you there. You cry for a while, scream for him to come back for a while longer, but eventually you get tired and just bury your face in your knees and wait for someone to come find you. Eventually Kendall brings you your dinner because he loves you and you eat it in the cage like a feral child, and only then does he let you out. He asks you how it felt. You tell him you were scared and sad the whole time and you don't understand, but he promises that someday you will. Every time you think you're doing something good, Kendall makes you go in the cage again. You miss a lot of meals. No one ever comes looking for you.
You're eight years old. You skipped the third grade but fourth grade is still too boring and too slow for you. It's hard to concentrate in class. You still learn Spanish after school every day and now you're learning French too, and sometimes you get the words all mixed up and use the wrong language with the wrong people. When you slip over an English word and substitute the Spanish at dinner, your father hits you so hard your ears ring. Kendall yells at him. Princess- Siobhan now, her name is now Siobhan- gets you an ice pack and tells you that you'll be okay and Dad didn't mean it. After you've gone to bed, Kendall comes to visit you and he has a black eye and a split bottom lip, but he tells you he loves you and it'll be okay. He also tells you he has to leave, but he'll come back soon. You're told not to make Dad angry. He gives you a little white pill that makes you sleep well without nightmares.
You're ten years old. When you graduate from fifth grade, Kendall isn't there because he's working. Connor is, though, and he ruffles your hair like you're a baby again and asks you if you're excited for middle school. You aren't. Kendall hates you for being smarter than him already. Your chest hurts and you can't breathe sometimes, especially when Kendall tells you to go to the basement. He doesn't make you get in the cage anymore because you know it's easier to just sit there yourself. He doesn't bring you dinner anymore. One night, Connor finds you and he looks angry but he's kind to you and reminds you he loves you. When he lets you out, you have to go talk to your dad and he tells you all about the family business. You're told that you have to work too. Kendall goes with you to keep you safe every time, and no matter how badly things go, he doesn't let you get hurt. You learn CPR after the time Kendall needs it and you don't know how, so a paramedic does it and brings him to the hospital. You go home alone. Your dad doesn't ask where Kendall is.
You're twelve years old. Kendall killed a little girl in pigtails in front of you and both of you came home covered in her blood. No matter how hard you scrubbed in the shower or how hot the water ran, you felt like you couldn't get it off of you. You never wanted to hurt people. Maybe you don't have the stomach to hurt people. It keeps happening anyways, sometimes in front of you and sometimes because of you. You hate yourself for doing it. There's no way out anymore. You tell your sister to stay away from this because even though she's growing up she's still your baby sister and you don't want this for her. Even this young, you're smart enough to know that no one, especially not a child, should live like this. When you remember that you're twelve, you ask Kendall if he still gets high at night. He shares his stash with you. You fall into the pool and can't find your way back up. It feels like you're dying. Then he pulls you out and dries you off and holds you like a child in his lap while you cry and gasp and shake, careful not to let anyone see you so you don't get in trouble. Afterward, he still shares.
You're thirteen years old. You just started high school at the same one as your brother, but he transfers out a month in to go somewhere else. He doesn't want to be at the same school as you. You pretend it doesn't hurt because at least now that you're older and spending less time together, he finds less occasion to lock you in the cage. Somehow you never get over your fear of cages. It just gets worse. You keep remembering that girl your brother killed. Some nights you sneak into Siobhan's room and lay on top of her frilly pink covers and just hold her the way you wish someone would have held you all the nights you were afraid and alone. You call her Princess like she's a baby again. She cries sometimes and you do too, even if neither of you will acknowledge it. One night she asks you why Dad won't tell her what her name is, and you realize you have to be the one to tell her that she doesn't have one because your dad never saw her as her own person. It's hard. You can't keep it secret anymore because she deserves to know. The light dims in her eyes.
You're sixteen. You're supposed to graduate this year and you never got around to applying to college because there's no point. You'll just keep being so bored in different rooms with people you don't know as well as you do your classmates now. You work a lot, but you always make up your schoolwork because it takes a matter of minutes. Your dad trusts you to secure a relationship with someone he wants more than anyone else in the world. His name is Stewy and he's pretty in the way that glass marbles are pretty, with strong hands and soft eyes and lips that you imagine kissing even though you've never kissed anyone unless it was for work. Maybe this could be work. That's what you're good at. You feel warm when you look at him and it never goes away. He likes your brother more than you. Your brother hates you for liking him. Neither of them view you as anything more than an insolent child.
You're twenty. Kendall didn't protect you this time because he's never there anymore. You don't know where you are. Everything is dark and cold. There's blood all over you but you don't know where it came from. It's hard to tell what time it is. You cry a lot because you know who's keeping you here and you just want out. You're sorry, you're so sorry that you'd die if it would mean forgiveness. You want them to still love you. After all these years watching everyone else do the dirty work, you tried to be good enough. Instead you're nothing but a waste of space. You're smart and your dad tells you so but you're so stupid for never knowing when to shut your mouth and keep your head down. One of your teeth is missing and sometimes the socket bleeds. You don't know why everything has to hurt all the time. You wrap your dirty fingers around the bars of the dog cage and scream for someone to put you out of your misery but no one does. When you see sunlight again it hurts your eyes.
You're twenty five years old. You lace your brother's drugs. You don't want to hurt him, but he shares them with Stewy and maybe this way you can hurt Stewy for the way he hurts you by not loving you. He doesn't ever make you bleed. Sometimes Siobhan does because she hits harder than Dad ever did. Dad was fixing you. Shiv just hates you. You don't know what you did wrong, except you do. It's the fact that you make friends easier even if they're not real, and that you're smarter than her. The two of you are always in competition over it. Whenever she starts learning something, you have to learn more and do it faster to prove you're worth keeping around. Kendall still protects you when he's there. You don't remember what Connor looks like anymore. Stewy asks you if you know where Kendall is and you don't. You try to kiss him. You don't remember what happens next because both of you are high on something from Kendall's dresser drawer at Stewy's apartment.
You're twenty nine. Kendall is dead. Stewy calls you and asks you what you did to cause this. You don't know. Kendall can't be dead. He's indestructible. Stewy calls you every hour or so demanding information. You ask your dad's favorite lawyer what to do and she buys you a ticket to Brazil and tells you to lay low just in case. You call her a lot while you're gone. She's mean to you but you like it because everyone is mean to you and at least she's making sure you feel good in the process. It takes a month before she tells you to come home. Kendall is at family dinner. No one mentions that you all thought he was dead. He has more scars. He checks his phone often. When you ask him what happened, he says not to worry about it.
You're thirty four. Dad's favorite lawyer lets you buy her dinner. It's just a business dinner. She doesn't love you, or maybe she does and that's why it hurts so bad all the time. Every love you've ever felt has hurt for every moment. You don't know if you want to love her because if you do, then you might hurt her. She's there when you kill someone for the first time. It should make you feel powerful and in control but you feel more out of control than you ever have in your life leading up to this moment. She helps you wash the blood off you and gives you her clothes to dress in because you're not at home. You wear the same size sweatpants and her favorite hoodie is baggy on both of you. You call Kendall after the cleanup crew because you need him to tell you that it's okay to keep going after you kill someone. When he answers he tells you to get high and get used to it. Stewy, in the background, chastises him for it. Your dad is getting old and maybe one day he'll die. Sometimes you fantasize about killing him yourself, followed closely by each of your siblings. Even Connor. Especially Connor. You ask Dad's lawyer if you have to kill someone when you love them. She distracts you with a kiss.
You're thirty six. Your sister wants you dead. You don't even remember why anymore. The last time you were cut up everything was taken from you. Your face is scarred and you will never have the children you never wanted in the first place because you're scared they'll turn out like you. Siobhan wants kids with her husband who hasn't fucked her in months but you suspect she only wants them to be more useful to Dad. You remember Kendall has kids. You don't think you've seen them since they were toddlers. It's better that way. Business partners and tentative allies try to be with you like they used to but you can't let anyone touch you. Being touched makes your skin crawl and your heart race. It hurts because they love you. Love will always hurt.
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May I request pining➡️confession shortfic with Sasara?
genre: pining, confessions, slice of life
warnings: n/a [mentions of alcohol]
pairing: sasara x reader
you got it!
I’ll admit, when starting this I had no clue how to write for Sasara, but then I wound up writing three pages of fic so... enjoy! lol
I added a little wing man Rosho in there too :) he cares for Sasara
Sasara bounced his leg nervously as he impatiently sat waiting on a bench outside the school’s gates. He glanced at his phone once every thirty-seconds, frowning at the lack of notifications. There were about ten more minutes till school got out, ten more minutes of agony.
You were introduced to Sasara by one of your coworkers, Rosho, when you went to his apartment to drink one evening after work. Rosho had pushed the two of you together because apparently you “had an annoyingly high amount of things in common” and “Sasara can annoy another teacher that isn’t me”. You were sure Rosho truly didn’t mind Sasara’s company, especially since they’d been friends for so long, but you appreciated the gesture. Sasara had immediately piqued your interest. He had a demeanor that instantly drew you in, a personality that made you curious to learn more. Following that first night, the two of you exchanged contact information and had been texting each other since. Sasara always made the effort to bring you lunch whenever he stopped by to speak to Rosho about division matters, sometimes with another mysterious man. You felt like you were dancing circles around Sasara, toeing the line between flirting and being close friends.
It had been going on for months. Once Rosho introduced the two of you, Sasara could rarely keep his mind off of you. He made the excuse of having to come to the school you and Rosho worked at to speak division business just to bring you lunch. Every time Rosho saw him in the halls he’d roll his eyes. He introduced you to him so he would have someone else to talk to, to get him to not bug him at work, but instead, Rosho’s plan backfired and Sasara was now constantly pestering him for information about you.
“Sasara! Hey!” You waved to the man on the bench as you ran out the school gates to greet him, grinning as you stopped in front of him, rocking back and forth on your heels. “Rosho said he had to stay late to finish grading some exams so he won’t be able to join us for drinks tonight, so it looks like it’s just us!”
“Ah man, he left me with you? Does he want to torture me?” Sasara teased, chuckling nervously as he looked at his phone. There was a message from Rosho that read: ‘hope you don’t mind the rain check, I figured it was about time you took the training wheels off and asked y/n out’. He shook his head and slipped his phone into his pocket, smiling at you as he stood. “Welp, now that Rosho isn’t joining us, that means more drinks for us!”
You laughed and nodded your head, “Thank goodness! This week was rough, you’d never believe what happened on Tuesday…” You chatted with Sasara as the two of you walked towards the bar a short way from the campus you worked at, filling him in with all the teacher gossip and rumors you overheard in the halls.
“Oh! And the craziest thing happened today too! Someone dropped off roses at the front desk for me! I have no clue who it was though… there wasn’t a note or anything... I did put them in a nice vase in my classroom! Do you think I should have brought them with me?”
“A-ah, Nah, I think they’ll be fine.” Sasara’s heart skipped a beat as you mentioned the roses he’d dropped off earlier in the day. So you did receive them. He wasn’t sure since you hadn’t mentioned anything or had them in hand, he didn’t know whether or not to be relieved or more nervous. He was hoping that you’d bring them out with you so he could tell you they were from him…
Once the two of you got to the bar, the bartender ushered you to your usual seating, raising a brow at the lack of the third member of your trio.
“Oh, Rosho had to stay at work late! Exam season, ya know? Left me all by myself with Sasara, could you believe that?”
The bar was surprisingly slow for a Friday night, with only a few couples scattered throughout the venue. Maybe it was the time of year where a lot of businessmen, educators, and students were busy, or maybe it was just an off night. You ordered your drinks and a few snacks, your insides warming as the alcohol touched your lips. Sasara laughed at every little joke you made, which was extremely flattering coming from him. You weren’t sure if it was the lighting in the room or the beer, but you could have sworn that you saw him blush at a few of your flirtatious comments. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room, hell the only person in the world. Maybe you were imagining things… you had to be. Sasara excused himself and stood to use the restroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Was this a date? Were all the times the two of you hung out when Rosho couldn’t make it dates? You liked him, obviously, but did he like you? You pouted your lips and rested your chin in your hand as you leaned against the table, tracing the rim of your near-empty glass with your finger.
In the bathroom, Sasara stared at himself in the mirror. You had been flirting with him all night… maybe. You had been, right? He wasn’t drunk enough to misread that, right? He sighed and pulled out his phone to text Rosho, cursing him for leaving you two alone. He didn’t answer. Of course, he didn’t. He knew this was Sasara’s challenge to face, not his. Right. So how to go about this… should he just tell you? Or should he be more discreet about it? Maybe straightforward was the way to go. He took a deep breath before exiting the restroom and making his way back to you.
“You ok?” You asked as he slid back into the seat across from you. Sasara looked pale.
“Yeah, yeah, no I’m fine! Great actually! Uh…” He locked eyes with you and reached for his drink, shooting the rest of it back for some last-minute bravery. “I wanted to talk to you about somethin, actually.”
“O-Ok? What’s on your mind?”
“Well, you see, tonight has been really great, with just the two of us, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Mmm, yes I suppose~ It is quite nice to just enjoy your company, keep it all to myself.”
Sasara grinned. “Y/n I have a proposition for you if you’ll hear me out.”
“Sure! Shoot.”
“Go out with me. Like this, except maybe at a nice restaurant every now and then, or a festival. Movies at my place maybe? Wine on the couch kinda thing? I’ll get you more flowers too.”
“Those roses were from you?” Your eyes widened as a smile spread across your lips. “Aww~”
“Don’t make it embarrassing! God… I haven’t felt stagefright in a long time until now.”
“Stagefright? Sasara, I think what you’re feeling is being in love.” You reached out and took his hand from across the table. “I would love to go out with you, Sasara. However you’d like.”
#hypnosis mic#hypmic#hypmic fic#hypmic x reader#hypmic writing#hypnosis mic: rhyme anima#hypnosis microphone#hypnosis mic x reader#hypnosis mic writing#sasara nurude#nurude sasara#sasara nurude x reader#nurude sasara x reader#rosho tsutsujimori#tsutsujimori rosho#wingman rosho#sasara embarassed boie#pining#confession#hypfic#hypfic-requests
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camp
this is on a bus back from camp. im thirteen and so are you. before i left for camp i imagined it would be me and three or four other dudes i hadnt met yet, running around all summer, getting into trouble.
it turned out it would be me and just one girl. that's you.
and we're still at camp as long as we're on the bus and not at the pickup point where our parents would be waiting for us. we're still wearing our orange camp t-shirts. we still smell like pine needles.
i like you, and you like me, and i more-than-like you.
but i don't know if you do or don't more-than-like me. you've never said, so i haven't been saying anything all summer, content to enjoy the small miracle of a girl choosing to talk to me, and choosing to do so again, and the next day, and so on.
a girl who's smart and funny and who, if i say something dumb for a laugh, is willing to say something two or three times as dumb to make me laugh, but who also gets weird and wise sometimes in a way i could never be.
a girl who reads books that no one's assigned to her, whose curly brown hair has a line running through it from where she put up a tie to hold it up while it was still wet.
back in the real world we don't go to the same school, and unless one of our families moves to a dramatically different neighborhood, we won't go to the same high school.
so, this is kind of it for us. unless i say something.
and it might especially be it for us if i actually do say something.
the sun's gone down and the bus is quiet. a lot of kids are asleep. we're talking in whispers about a tree we saw at a rest stop that looks like a kid we know.
and then i'm like, "can i tell you something?"
and all of a sudden i'm telling you. and i keep telling you and it all comes out of me and it keeps coming, and your face is there and gone and there and gone as we pass underneath the orange lamps that line the sides of the highway. and there's no expression on it.
and i think just after a point, i'm just talking to lengthen the time where we live in a world where you haven't said yes or no yet.
and regrettably, i end up using the word "destiny". i don't remember in what context. doesn't really matter.
before long, i'm out of stuff to say and you smile and say, "ok". i don't know exactly what you mean by it, but it seems vaguely positive and i would leave in order not to spoil the moment, but there's nowhere else to go because we're on a bus.
so i pretend like i'm asleep and before long, i really am.
i wake up, the bus isn't moving anymore. the domed lights that line the center aisle are all on. i turn and you're not there.
then again, a lot of kids aren't in their seats anymore. we're parked at the pickup point, which is in the parking lot of a methodist church. the bus is half empty.
you might be in your dad's car by now, your bags and things piled high in the trunk. the girls in the back of the bus are shrieking and laughing and taking their sweet time disembarking as i swing my legs out into the aisle to get up off the bus - just as one of them reaches my row. it used to be our row, on our way off.
it's michelle, a girl who got suspended from third grade for a week after throwing rocks at my head. adolescence is doing her a ton of favors body-wise.
she stops and looks down at me. and her head is blasted from behind by the dome light, so i can't really see her face, but i can see her smile. and she says one word: "destiny".
and her and the girls clogging the aisles behind her all laugh, and then she turns and leads them off the bus.
i didn't know you were friends with them.
i find my dad in the parking lot. he drives me back to our house and camp is over.
so is summer, even though there's two weeks until school starts.
this isn't a story about how girls are evil or how love is bad. this is a story about how i learned something and i'm not saying that this thing is true or not, i'm just saying it's what i learned.
i told you something. it was just for you, and you told everybody. so i learned to cut out the middle man, make it all for everybody, always. everybody can't turn around and tell everybody. everybody already knows. i told them.
but this means there isn't a place in my life for you or someone like you.
is it sad? sure. but it's a sadness i chose.
i wish i could say this was a story about how i got on the bus a boy and got off a man - more cynical, hardened, and mature and shit. but that's not true.
the truth is i got on the bus a boy. and i never got off the bus.
i still haven't.
#donald glover#childish gambino#camp#that power childish gambino#writing#short story#i cant get over this outro#so good.
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“Pretty Boy” Oliver Wood Smut
Requested by: savannah117230 on wattpad "Can you do an Oliver Wood smut? They could be best friends since 3rd year but she is a Slytherin so they kept their friendship a secret but in their 5th year their friendship is exposed. You can make up the rest because I'm not that creative lol."
A/N: I really like this idea! I'm going to switch it up a bit but I still really enjoy this! I did a bunch of drinking towards the end of it so if there's anything wrong just lmk lmao.
Warnings: SMUT, cursing, a brief instance of sexual assault, oral (male and female receiving)
Word count: 7,473
Guide: Y/N: Your Name Y/L/N: Your Last Name Y/H/C: Your Hair Colour
*************
I was the presumed heiress of Slytherin, both my parents were very prominent and well known Death Eaters. I was even sometimes called Slytherins "princess" just waiting for another noble Slytherin to come and sweep me off my feet. Marcus Flint, a boy in my year, was convinced he was my "knight in shining armour" and would try to get with me every chance he got. Typically, it always ended with me saying, "I'm sorry but who are you again?" But it never stopped, he was really persistent. It was kind of sad though, but I had to just deal with it. It was a big shock, to my fellow housemates, when I showed up at Quidditch trails. I walked out onto the pitch and just saw all these mouths agape. I looked at every single boy on that pitch with confusion. "We just weren't expecting to see you here Y/N." Our captain, Duncan Pucey said with almost as much as confusion drawn on his face like the rest of the boys standing there. "You boys seem to forget my father was a keeper his entire time here AND played for years on the Falmouth Falcons. Now, can we please stop gawking at me and start trials already?" I retaliated. It was no surprise when I made the team, but it was a surprise when I was placed as a chaser. I for sure thought I would be keeper just like my father. Duncan pulled me aside the last practice before games officially started, "I want you to know that you're brilliant in any position you play, but I need you as a chaser. There's a boy on the Gryffindor team, his name is Oliver...Wood? I think it's Oliver Wood and he knows Quidditch almost as well as you. I need you to keep the chasers on the best path to keeping us winning." He explained as he patted my back and then sent me off to the locker room. And that's exactly what I did. I was keeping the chasers in check, including Duncan. We made plays that no one dared to mess with and were almost impossible to beat. I wasn't entirely like my father, no no. My mother was the brightest witch of her time and it was clear I was following those footsteps as well. Best of both worlds one would assume. I wasn't some Slytherin who only did enough to pass class, I was going above and beyond each time and I quickly made it to top of my class.
The end of our second year wasn't super eventful, until Oliver and I were paired together for what seemed like the millionth time in Charms. Professor Flitwick rarely ever let us choose our own partners which would typically would be fine with me, but I was just continuously paired with Oliver Wood. Once I saw his usual grades, I immediately knew why. He was doing enough to pass, such a shame because he actually was brilliant. Our last class of charms before final exams came and went, but Professor Flitwick surprised me when he called Oliver and I up to his desk after class. "Is there something wrong Professor?" I questioned, shifting my bag behind my shoulders as I pulled my Y/H/C out from behind the bag. "Not per-say Miss Y/L/N. But I am concerned about Mr. Wood. He seems more concerned about Quidditch than his grades." "But I don't need good grades to get recruited for Quidditch." Oliver butt in, to which I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "But you need good grades to graduate Mr.Wood," Professor Flitwick turned to me, "Miss Y/L/N, could you be his study partner?" Professor Flitwick almost pleaded with me, but I didn't have the heart to turn down one of my favourite professors. I let out a long sigh, "I suppose." I replied as I crossed my arms across my chest and moved my weight onto my right leg and hip. Professor Flitwick beamed with delight, "Brilliant! 20 points to Slytherin. Now you two have a good rest of your day." He said as he started to clean up his classroom, Oliver and I made our way out of the classroom and toward the dining hall. Oliver opened his mouth but I responded quicker, "No, you are not getting any Quidditch secrets. Meet me in the library tonight at 7 or I will find you and drag you there myself." "Is that a threat or a promise?" He asked with a smirk. "Wipe that fucking smirk off your face before I decide to hex you instead." The smirk dropped off his face and we entered the dining hall and went our separate ways as I rolled my eyes, eager to let my friends in on the trauma of Oliver Wood I will endure for the foreseeable future.
Our third year came up a lot faster than expected, but I was still excited. I entered Platform 9 3/4 with my parents, and immediately we were met with stares and whispers. We quickly said our goodbyes, but not before my father handed me a broom. As he handed me the broom, he hugged my mother closer and smiles grew on their faces when they saw the excitement in my eyes. "A Transylvanian Barb! They're brand new! But why?" I asked, confused about the gift, but still excited nonetheless. "Our beautiful girl deserves only the best. Keep breaking records out there darling." My mother said before they pulled me in for one last hug and kiss before I boarded the train. I made my way to the back where the Slytherins were, but I couldn't help but notice all the stares and whispers now directed toward me. Directed solely toward me. I just hurried to the Slytherin car and I saw all my teammates waiting for me. We were all so excited for the new year because a new year meant new Quidditch plays. But a new term also meant that soon enough, you were Olivers study partner. It wasn't the ideal situation, but if it meant that the only person close to your skill was still on the pitch, and I was willing to make sure I had a worthy opponent. Soon enough, Oliver was asking for help in all our classes. I didn't mind, I got to keep him accountable, but it took up a lot more of my time. Eventually, it was nearing the time final game of the year. Gryffindor against Slytherin. Both of our teams were practicing as much as we could. I almost had no time to breathe, but this would all be over soon and everything would be a lot better and easier. I found myself in divination class, seated next to Marcus and Terence at our table. We were learning tessomancy, the divination form that requires you to read tea leaves. This class was meant to focus on soulmates and finding their initials in our leaves. Terence was struggling to figure his out, while Marcus just smirked at me. "It's your initial, looks like you really are my soulmate babe." Marcus said with a smirk. I shot him a disgusted look, "Mine is an 'M' BUT before you say anything it's the initial of the persons last name you git." I looked down at my cup and realised my mistake, my cup was upside down. That 'M', is actually a 'W'. I wasn't going to admit this to them though. "Fuck," I sighed, "Must be Malfoy." I played off how I really felt and what everything really meant. There were plenty of people in this school with last names beginning with 'W', but I didn't want to press it to much longer. I ended up helping the rest of the Slytherins and Trewlaney gave me 15 points for Slytherin. I immediately went to my usual spot in the library and just hoped and prayed to Merlin everything would go back to normal. Oliver arrived moments later and took his usual seat. We had two essays to write so we just created small talk every now and again to fill the air. I finished before Oliver, I did some studying before he finished. I proof read his essay, it was actually really good. "Oliver, this is great! I told you that if you a little more effort in you would be great! You might not need me much longer." I said with a playful chuckle. "I would hate to end these study sessions, working with you is actually quite fun and you help me keep on track. Who knew the princess of Slytherin had it all? Looks, smarts, and excellent quidditch skills." Oliver said with a smirk, which made me blush. "Alright pretty boy, I love my ego being stroked, but both of us have practice tonight. Mine is soon, yours is later. I'll see you tomorrow on the pitch Wood. Can't wait to kick your ass." I said as I sent a wink his way and walked away after all my stuff was packed away. I made my way down to the pitch where I got ready and headed over to Duncan to discuss what plays we need to make and so on. By the end of practice, we had a solid plan in place for the game against Gryffindor. We were all radiating positivity with how well practice went for us. We all changed but as soon as we left the locker room, Gryffindor was making their way onto the pitch. Marcus went right up to them and I followed, not wanting anything serious to happen. Marcus was about to say something but I grabbed his arm and pulled him away, "Marcus if you lay even a finger on them before the game tomorrow I will make sure you don't play and you're a sub next year. Step away from them or I will force you to back away." "Awe you're hot when you're angry. How about this, I don't do anything to these pussy's and when we win we celebrate in my dorm and you sleep with me?" Marcus asked in a condescending tone as we walked away. I stopped and immediately started to pretend to gag at the words that just came out of his mouth, "I would much rather sleep with Wood over there ten times over before I even thought about touching you." I practically yelled. All eyes were on us. "What does Wood have that I don't clearly I'm packing a lot more than him." He said as his right hand moved to touch his member through his pants and his left hand trailed around my waist and squeezed my right butt cheek. That was all I needed to immediately cock my arm back and land a hard punch directly on his nose, which was now just gushing blood down his body. Marcus stumbled back and scrambled to his feet. Terence started to bring him off the pitch. I took my wand out and pointed it at him. I started to make my way towards him when Duncan and a few other of my teammates held me back with all their strength. "I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU FLINT. I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU THE NEXT CHANCE I GET. I SWEAR TO MERLIN. YOU WILL WISH YOU NEVER EXISTED YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SHIT EXCUSE FOR A WIZARD!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, I had tears streaming down my face at this point. Both from the experience and the pain my throat was in. Miles ran to get a professor as Duncan hugged me and apologised to the Gryffindor team. Duncan held onto me as we made our way to meet with Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall. I made eye contact with Oliver as I passed by and he looked broken just from witnessing the exchange. Duncan and I met with the Headmaster and our head of house in his office and explained everything that happened. It wasn't a long meeting but it wasn't a short meeting either. Duncan agreed with Snape and Dumbledore that Flint was going to be out for the last game of the year and sub for most of next year. We made our way to dinner and all eyes were on me, but I just ignored it and just put on my RBF and plotted revenge (and how I could possibly tell my parents). It was the day of the biggest game of the year to us. I got to the locker room extra early to clear my mind and go through last minute plays to make sure they were as clean and thought out as possible. Duncan followed not too long after me and I informed him of some errors I found and we worked through them. Once the rest of the team was in the locker room and changed we went over the game plan. After Duncan's speech, we entered the pitch to some cheers but mostly boo's. We were all on the pitch when we got into our positions and went up into the sky. Before we took our actual positions, Oliver sent a wink my way. I just shook my head and shoo'd him away to the posts. The game was going great, we were leading but not by much. We needed that snitch to win. Terence was so close to catching it, Charles wasn't making it too easy though. I paid as little attention as possible toward the seekers fighting for the snitch. Fred and George Weasley were towards the left of me but pretty far behind. I had just caught the quaffle and was heading towards the goals when all of a sudden, I was hit hard in the side and I let go of the quaffle as I flew off my broom from the force of the hit. I hit the corner of the Slytherin stand and just free fell to the ground. I was out cold before I hit the ground. Terence caught the snitch, but people were concerned with my limp body lying on the ground. I woke up later that day in the hospital wing, my team was surrounding me. They told me everything that happened. Fred and George performed a Dopplebeater Defence and the bludger went straight for me. It hit me hard enough to throw me to the corner of the stands like I was a muggle rag doll and I immediately fell hundreds of feet to the ground. I had several broken ribs and many more fractures. But I was more concerned about my broom and if we had won. Duncan chuckled, "We did win, Terence caught the snitch right as you hit the stands. And your broom is fine. I grabbed it before it plummeted to the ground." We were all caught up in conversation when there was a throat clear from behind my team surrounding my bed. "Leave her alone Weasley's, she doesn't need to be hurt anymore." Duncan said, in a voice so firm yet so angry. "We came to apologise." The twins said in unison. I chimed in before Duncan could, "It's fine. You guys can go. I'll be fine." I smiled and hurried them along. "We're so sorry Y/N," Fred started. "We didn't think it would curve and get you." George chimed in. "We promise, once you're better we'll get you all the sweets you want," I cut them off, "Guys it's okay. It's a game of quidditch. I'd be naive if I didn't believe I would never get hurt. I forgave you a long time ago. But I still appreciate the care you two have." I replied with a smile as they handed me a bouquet of wild flowers. They made their way out, I placed the flowers on the bedside table. I looked up and saw Oliver. "How are you feeling?" He asked as he took the seat next to me. "Besides just a blanket of pain, I'm pretty good now that you're here." I said with a smile. There was a thick silence that enveloped both of us, eventually Oliver broke that silence. "Are we friends?" He asked. "What do you mean?" "Like, you've really grown on me in our study sessions and I want to be friends with you but.." "I have an image to uphold Wood. But we can, if that's what you want. Just, we must keep the study sessions professional. Secret friendship, for now," I said, I saw the sorrow in his eyes "It's a secret for now. Until I can figure all this out. I promise Ollie." I said as I stuck out my pinky finger, he chuckled and hooked his pinky finger with mine. Oliver came down every day to help me with homework and our usual study sessions. But once everyone left we just chatted like old pals. It was so much easier once I could actually go back to classes and roaming the castle. Every day meshed together; I went to my classes, bickered back and forth with Oliver, had study sessions, and then snuck away to have alone time with Oliver and acted like normal friends behind closed and hidden doors. I hated it, but being the "heiress of Slytherin" I had an image to uphold. Hopefully our 5th or 6th year I can just be open about this, but right now is not the time. Especially because I don't know what they'd do to Oliver. It was more for his protection, and he figured that out the more we hung out and talked. The deeper our friendship grew, the more we learned about each other... and the more I started to feel something more for him. The end of the year came so fast, yet went by so slow. Saying goodbye to everyone hurt when the one person I didn't want to leave I couldn't even say goodbye to. No matter how bad I felt, Oliver and I still wrote to each other practically every day. Each new letter was a countdown to the first of September, a countdown to seeing my best friend. But with each letter also came stronger and stronger feelings I had never felt before. Was this love? Was this what love felt like? What is this feeling?
The first of September has come yet again, welcoming me to my fourth year at Hogwarts, but this time my family and I were accompanied by the Malfoy's. Mum and dad have always wanted me to marry Draco, keep the pureblood line going. I didn't hate Draco, he was very annoying for an 11 year old, but I didn't hate him. Neither of our families believed in arranged marriages, but they definitely mentioned a married between Draco and I often. Draco was definitely infatuated with me. Trying his best to flirt with me and to keep my attention on him. At the train, I hugged my parents goodbye and hugged Narcissa and shook Lucius' hand. Draco and I boarded the train together, "Now, I sit with all of the older years and first years aren't allowed, but after tonight you can always find me when you need me." I said as I sent Draco a smile. Draco took my hand and kissed it and went on his merry way to find someone to befriend. My eyes drifted from Draco to Oliver, who seemingly was watching the whole time. He shot a smile my way, causing me to blush. I walked passed him to the Slytherin cart and he slipped a piece of parchment into my hand. I kept walking and as I entered I sat in my usual seat, but only Terence and Miles were in their seats. I read the note, "I really missed you, more than ever. Meet me on the pitch at 8?" I let out a smile as I slyly slid the note into my right pocket. We continued our conversations of our summer holidays as more of our peers came through and sat down. I announced that I was the quidditch captain now that Duncan has graduated. We all enjoyed our time together once again, after all, it was just another year and another House Cup we were determined to win. It came to the sorting ceremony and I only was anticipating Draco and his sorting. He was sorted into Slytherin faster than I was, but he was proud and made his way over to me and kissed my cheek before sitting right next to me. My teammates just looked over at me, and then Draco, and looked more confused than when a professor calls on them and they're not paying attention. Draco happily chimed in, "I'm going to marry her. Join the Malfoy and Y/L/N pureblood names and have the greatest bond to ever occur in the wizarding world." He had a smile beaming from ear to ear. They all shifted their gazes onto me, questioning if it was real or in his imagination. "I'll explain later, don't worry guys." I said to calm them down, which it only helped slightly. The upperclassmen made their way to their perspective common rooms. I told my teammates how it wasn't fully a thing, arranged at least. It was encouraged but not forced, and to just let Draco believe whatever he wants to believe. They all finally understood and proceeded to start a whole new conversation. It was almost 8 and I decided to sneak away from my friends and down to the pitch. If someone finds me on my way there then I can just say I need to cleat my mind or something like that. I can always get myself out of trouble. As soon as I walked by the Gryffindor locker room, I heard a faint whisper and made my way to see inside. As soon as I cracked the door, an arm reached out and grabbed my forearm and yanked me inside. I practically fell onto whomever just pulled me in. I looked up and saw Olivers infamous smile and pulled him in for a tight hug. The hug seemed to go on forever, but eventually we let go, but not fully, his arms were still wrapped around my waist and my arms were wrapped around his neck. "Oh how I've missed you." He said with a smirk, but there was definitely something hiding behind it. I was studying his face like it was a written exam. And caught on and he guided me to the benches right behind us. "Obviously I wanted to say hi, but that's not the only thing I wanted to talk to you about," Oliver started as he sat beside me, "I've been having this thought and this feeling for a while now," I was confused, and the furrowed brows and now titled head made him keep going. "I know you like sleeping around and fucking whenever you can... NOT that it's a bad thing because I like that too. But... B-but I want to know what it's like to like, sleep with one person. And I just hope you've been feeling this sexual tension too, Y/N. Would you like, to like, maybe be friends with benefits?" He asked and he started to blush as he looked away. I knew it was too good to be true, he didn't feel the same way I think I feel about him. But if this was the closest to a relationship I could have with him, I was going to seize the moment. "I'm glad you felt the tension too, I was starting to grow exhausted just hiding it," I said as I inched a little closer to him as I unbuttoned the top buttons of my white blouse, "I was getting tired of hopping from dick to dick. Although the variety was nice, getting railed by the same cock over and over sounds so much better to me." I got even closer to him, I moved his hands to my bare thighs and my hands tugged at his shirt. Oliver crashed his lips into mine, the rough intensity of the kiss threw me off guard but I enjoyed every moment of it. I quickly deepened the kiss, feeling myself grow wetter and wetter as Oliver finished unbuttoning my blouse. I unhooked my black bra and he took off his turtleneck and we threw our articles of clothes onto the ground, just letting them land wherever they pleased. I took one look at his body and my mouth dropped. Toned but not overly defined, a perfect middle ground. Oliver took full advantage of the moment and placed his hands roughly on my bare sides, sending sparks throughout my body, and he pulled my into him and crashed his lips onto my bare neck as he sucked and bit every inch of my neck and collarbone. Oliver was still in a sitting position while I was standing over him, one leg on each side of the bench. As Oliver found my sweet spot, he started to pull my skirt down to my knees and I took it off and threw it wherever it decided to land. He started to leave hickies all over my upper body he kissed his way down to my breasts. He took my left breast into his mouth and sucked and kissed every inch of it. His right and trailed from my side down to my warm and wet pussy. He didn't even hesitate to move my panties out of the way and rubbed the folds of my dripping wet pussy. That feeling all on its own made me whimper and melt into him more than I was. His mouth moved to my right breast and give it the same attention my left breast received earlier. His left hand was free and moved to unbutton his pants and pull out his pulsating cock. As soon as I felt his cock touch my thigh, I positioned myself over his member. "I've waited all summer for this." He said right before he took his cock and rubbed the tip up and down my soaking wet folds. He stopped at my entrance but before he could say anything I lowered myself onto him, feeling his cock fill up all the empty space inside of me. No one has ever filled me so perfectly. I crashed my lips onto his as I rode his cock up and down and making sure he understands what he's getting. "If I didn't want this, I wouldn't be this wet for you... pretty boy." As those words left my mouth, Oliver held me close to him, picked me up and laid me down on the bench. He would alternate his thrusts between fast and slow, seemingly trying to pace himself so he can savour this moment. I felt my core start to contract and tighten and my pussy became more and more sensitive. In between my increasingly shallow breaths, I noticed that I was edging closer and closer to my climax. "Ol-Ol-Oliver," My breaths were becoming more and more shallow, "I-I'm g-g-g-getting cl-lose." Oliver was letting out low grunts of pleasure as he gripped my hips tighter than before, but with the words that seemingly dripped out of my mouth, Oliver thrusted harder and faster than he had previously in our little rendezvous. With each new thrust, a new grunt or groan came out of Olivers mouth, I could feel his cock twitch inside me and I knew he was ready to cum. I reluctantly brought my right hand down to my clit and started to stimulate myself while he thrusted into me. I started to feel myself become undone in Olivers grasp, my head was thrown back and my back arched as I let out a final pleasure filled moan. Oliver watched in awe and pleasure as I came undone on his cock. Once my high finished, I pushed Oliver back and got onto my knees in front of him. I took his hard cock into my hand started to pump before I placed my lips onto the tip of his dick. I pumped his shaft as I played with the tip of his cock with my tongue. I felt his cock twitch in my hand one final time before he let his cum release into my mouth. He was a mess of sweat and heavy breathing, I swallowed his seed as he sat on the bench we were just having our most amazing high on. I started to gather my clothes and get dressed, as I was putting my bra on I said, "That was-" I was cut off my Oliver, "Amazing." "That was amazing," He said as he slapped my ass, "I would love to do this again." He pulled me closer as he still hungrily looked me up and down. We both finished getting dressed but then he grabbed my hand and sat me down on the bench again, "We should probably figure out a game plan for this, like rules for us being friends with benefits." I nodded my head in agreement. "Alright, chime in any time you have something to say," I nodded at his statement and he continued, "Consent is the most important thing of all, we are still friends and I trust that both of us will let the other know if sex isn't in the cards for the night. We are friends above all. Secondly, we should probably stop when one of us gets into a relationship. Lastly, no catching feelings." He finished with a chuckle, but my face sort of flushed but I tried to keep my composure. "Couldn't agree more." I said behind a fake smile as I stuck my hand out for him to shake, and he returned the favour. I snuck out of the Gryffindor locker room and went into my own, grabbing my broom and waiting to see Oliver walk up to the castle. I went onto the pitch and just flew around, trying to sort through my own thoughts. I realised it was close to curfew and so I landed, but my broom back in its spot and headed back up to the castle. My team was waiting up for me, scared that something had happened to me but I assured them I was just at the pitch starting to get a game plan going and clearing my mind. As the boys trickled out of the common room, the only ones left were Terence and I but we had sat in silence for some time and I was just staring into the fire. "Is everything okay Y/N?" He asked, which slightly startled me enough to look him in the eyes. "Of course I am T, I just...have a lot on my mind." I said with a bit of a forced smile. He wasn't quite sure if he was buying it but then he said, "Okay, but I care a lot about you and I want you to know you can always talk to me." He placed his hand on my thigh in reassurance, I placed my hand over his and shot him a smile before standing up and heading to our dorm rooms. Maybe Terence could help take my mind off of Oliver only wanting to fuck me. And that's what started to happen. Several times a week, Oliver and I would meet up and either just have a grand ol' time or just to fuck but during the day, I was growing closer and closer to Terence. But Oliver still definitely had my heart, in more ways than one. Nothing I could do would make me feel differently. Oliver and I were both captains, which made fuck sessions and wagers even better than before. Slytherin won the first game of the year, so Oliver had to eat me out, and honestly he might've loved it more than I did. When Gryffindor won their first game, I gave him a blowjob and really whatever he wanted. The Quidditch house cup was quickly approaching and both of us were starting to have stress sex several times a week. He was my release of this stress and I was his. The day before the last game against Slytherin and Gryffindor, Oliver and I had just finished working on our DADA essays and I was cleaning up when Oliver just looked at me and said "Oh, I have a girlfriend now. So, no more funny business." He said with a smirk and a chuckle as he collected his things and went on his way. My heart sank to my feet as tears welled up in my eyes, but I just wiped whatever there was away and I marched my way down to the pitch to try to take my mind off of everything going on around me. I changed into my uniform and sat down thinking and rethinking plays as my leg bobbed up and down with stress. I had notes scribbled everywhere and I was struggling to keep my head on my shoulders. Terence, Miles, and Adrien walked in expecting them to be the first but were shocked to see me but even more shocked to see the chaos surrounding me. Terence asked the other two boys to give them a moment and he sat next to me and rubbed my back, trying to soothe me. "What's going on Y/N?" "A guy I thought really liked me doesn't and he has a girlfriend. We were doing a friends with benefits thing but I hoped it would turn into more." I replied and he pulled me closer. "Well clearly he's an absolute git for leaving you for someone else, even if all you two did was fuck. You deserve so much more than whoever that asshole is." "You're right, I deserve so much better than him. I shouldn't have let it go on this long." "I know this is quick, but we have been hanging out a lot more these past few months and I was wondering if you would be my girlfriend? No pressure, but the hogsmeade dates made me feel a type of way and I hope you feel the same." I smiled and cupped his face in my hands and kissed him, "I would love to. Thank you for showing me I deserve better." We both smiled and the team joined us in the locker room as I reworked plays with my newly cleared mind, well, not fully cleared. Practice went really well and I'm very pleased with what we have prepared for tomorrow. We came down from the sky and Gryffindor was awaiting us in the pitch. "Trying to calculate how much you're going to lose Gryffin-snore?" Adrien shot at them, unprovoked but no care in the world. "Save it for the game boys. See you on the pitch tomorrow, Wood." I said in a dark tone as I shoved passed him as Terrence and I interlocked fingers as we walked into the locker room. It was officially game day and the dining hall was buzzing with wagers and thoughts for the day. Terence and I walked into the dining hall hand in hand and I looked over at Oliver who was staring straight at me. I looked away as we made our way to the table where the rest of our team was sitting. We ate a hearty breakfast and headed to the pitch. Once we were in the locker room and all changed we went over the plays we needed and I finished with a speech, "[...] I know I never say this, so believe me I need you all to listen and take this to heart, play dirty. I will be giving commands but I trust you all know how to play dirty since most of you have been playing that way all year against my wishes... Yes Pucey, I'm talking to you. But you all better hope that if you get a foul on purpose, you better hope Merlin finds you before I even start to hunt you down. Go out and kick some Gryffindor ass." We all exited the room and made our way onto the pitch. Terence and I exchanged a quick peck right in front of Oliver right before we all took position on the pitch. Madam Hooch released the balls and I immediately got the Quaffle and headed toward the goal posts. Angelina and Katie from Gryffindor got on both sides of me but before they could successfully perform a Body Blow on me, I picked up speed and drifted in front of the goals as I threw the Quaffle in and scored. "Forty-three seconds and the first goal goes to Slytherin! The goal was made by Y/N Y/L/N and made a new school record for fast goal made in a match!" Lee Jordan announced. The game went on for ages but I was on fire. I was scoring and checking like no tomorrow, to say I was determined was an understatement. I was fighting for that win, I wanted to see Olivers face lose first hand. And almost as quick as the game started, Terence caught the snitch and Slytherin won! I briefly looked over at Oliver who looked heartbroken, but in more ways than one. I was broken from my chance when Terence came up and pulled me in for a passionate kiss. "And there is it folks, Slytherin's seeker Terence Higgs caught the snitch which landed Slytherin the win of the inter-house Cup! Oh, and by the looks of it he also scored the winning kiss with Slytherin's Captain, Y/N Y/L/N! Y/N won the game with brilliant plays and won Terence's heart!" Lee Jordan said before he said his usual Quidditch game closing announcements. The night was buzzing with drinks and games and cheer in the usually gloomy Slytherin common room. A few weeks passed and Oliver and I were studying for our History of Magic exam when he suddenly stopped and looked at me. "Oliver, are you okay?" He kept staring, I snapped my fingers a few times in front of his face which seemed to take him out of his trance. "Are you serious?" He asked sternly. "About what?" "Dating Terrence." "Well, yeah. That's why we hang out all the time. He treats me like I matter. Anywho, we shouldn't be discussing this because you are also in a relationship. Now keep studying so you don't fail." I left that night feeling uneasy but acted like everything was normal. The end of the year approached fast, but Terrence and I agreed that we just weren't meant for each other romantically and so we broke it off and remained friends. Finals were coming up and so Oliver and I were cramming like we had for countless exams prior. We were in the library very late each night, and this night was no different but something about the atmosphere was very different. "How are you and Terrence?" Oliver asked. "Oh, we broke up a while ago." I replied, keeping my head on my study guide. Olivers head shot up and he looked at me, "What? Why?" "Well," I started as I looked up, "Since you want to be nosy, we just were better off as friends. Simple really, nothing too extreme or anything. How are you and your girl?" "We actually broke up yesterday." "Oh I'm so sorry to hear that. Are you okay?" He pondered that question for a bit, before finally saying something that caught me off guard, "Yeah, but I miss our old nights together." He was waiting for my reaction, hell even I was waiting for my reaction. I missed them too but I didn't want to go through all those feelings all over again. "I miss them too Ollie, but I don't want we used to have. If I'm being honest," I looked around to make sure no one was still in the library, "I caught feelings for you and being friends with benefits hurt me and really messed me up emotionally. I can't put myself through that again." Olivers reaction went from shock, to confusion, to relief. I watched the gears in his mind turn every step of the way for him to process the information I just gave him. "Well that's a relief, I caught feelings for you as well." He said with his signature smirk. My brows furrowed, "Then why did you date another girl?" "To try to get you and your body out of my mind, but the Slytherin heiress has her way with men and I never forgot our endeavors and I just kept missing them. I didn't think you felt the same, so I suppressed my own feelings. I'm sorry, I should've said something sooner." There was an awkward silence between us for a few moments, before Oliver spoke up, "Is that why you destroyed us in the inter-house Cup?" I started to blush and nodded my head yes. His eyes widened and a smile formed on his face, "I hate to admit it but it was bloody brilliant. You're bloody brilliant...on and off the pitch... Can you be my girlfriend?" I blushed and just smiled at him, "Of course. But it's still a secret." The year finished and Oliver and I had successfully kept our relationship under the radar. I hated it but I had a plan, I think.
Fifth year rolled around and started off great. Nothing too exciting happend, except whenever Oliver and I were alone it was more cute and no sex. We mutually agreed to wait. A couple days before the inter-house cup, we snuck into an empty classroom and just talked and chilled together since tomorrow we were both going to be super busy. I was sat atop a desk and Oliver was standing in front of me and holding my hands. Oliver and I leaned in for a kiss when suddenly we heard the door open and a gasp fill the empty room. Both of us spun our head in the direction of the sound, and in the doorway was Lee Jordan. Lee immediately left but that little thing just knocked the wind out of you. "Fuck." I muttered under my breath, "Alright. Hopefully he doesn't go around blabbing about what he saw." "And if he does?" My eyes darted around the room in a moment of pondering, "If he does, then we'll have to make it official in front of everyone." "Is that okay for you?" "We deserve to be open about our relationship. I just need a day or two to get all my ducks in a row. You deserve to be in a public relationship." Oliver smiled at that statement and pulled me into a kiss. We both left the room and headed to our prospective common rooms. The next day started off with an early practice. Lee hadn't spilt the beans about what he saw, yet. I was a bit more nervous than ever before but I still led the team like tomorrow was the last day of their lives. We all left practice happily but I was a bit behind, cleaning the room and pondering my thoughts. I walked into the dining hall for dinner and all eyes were on me and whispers immediately started. I just strutted to my usual seat and just dug in. My teammates opened their mouths and I immediately shot back, "If sone of you says ONE THING I will make sure you don't play tomorrow. I finished eating and went straight to my dorm and fell asleep. I wanted nothing more than for things to be normal again. I woke up bright and early and headed to the pitch. I knew Olivers plays so well, so I was busying myself with coming up with new plays and how to implement them. Eventually the rest of my team joined me and we all got ready. I gave one of the best speeches of my career, but before I could step away from being the centre of attention Marcus asked, "Are you and Woods really dating?" I took a deep breath in, "Yes, yes we are. Now go on the pitch because I never want to hear another word about this. Got it?" We all entered the pitch a few minutes before Gryffindor did, one they came out I immediately looked for Oliver. We made our way over to each other and we looked into each others eyes. "I love you, pretty boy." "I love you too, princess." Oliver threw his broom onto the ground and grabbed my waist and pulled me into a deep and passionate kiss as the crowd roared behind us.
#oliver wood#oliver wood imagine#oliver wood preference#oliver wood would include#oliver wood smut#Harry Potter#harry potter fandom#harry potter smut#smut#imagine#preference#would include#requested#requested imagine#requested smut#wattpad#show-choir-gal
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my teen angst bullshit has a body count
by @imgoingtocrash for @hailxhydra
Rating: T
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Jim Morita, Hydra Agents
Summary:
“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”
Peter’s hearing blanks out.
Pet.
It echoes.
Two years ago, Peter Parker escaped Hydra's control and was taken in by the Avengers. Traumatized from the experience but healing, Peter's starting to get a hang of this whole normal teenager thing. However, when Flash brings up a happily forgotten trigger from his past, Tony comes to give comfort and remind Peter that he's worth more to his loved ones than Hydra could have ever dreamed of.
Read on AO3
My fic for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! Hopefully you enjoy it @hailxhydra!!!
Full fic under the cut as requested by the exchange:
“—But I’m asking if it’s a good movie.”
“I’m telling you, it was either picking Selena for the third time or Rio, which is a stupid animated movie about birds.” Ned shakes his head dramatically. “Everybody else will fall asleep, and if everybody falls asleep, then Misses Rodriguez will give us a pop quiz instead of letting us have a movie day.”
“But I like animated movies. We like them. We watched A Bug’s Life like last week!”
“Because you hadn’t seen it before! Your film under-education is criminal, and if I don’t help you fix it, who will?!”
Ned has a point. Being kidnapped and raised by Hydra after the age of six really limits a person’s entertainment consumption, as he’s learned more than ever now that he’s surrounded by other teenagers who grew up with movies and tv shows to watch at their fingertips.
“I mean, Steve does have a list…” Peter points out weakly.
Steve keeps it in his little notebook along with other things he doesn’t understand the references to yet. He tried to encourage Peter to start something like that in the beginning, but Peter’s never really considered himself a list person. He just sort of soaks up the world now, like a curious sponge. Sometimes it means he has to Google things he doesn’t really understand the meaning of, but it also means a lot of movie nights with both the other Avengers and Ned, which is actually sort of a bonus.
Ned stops them in the hall. “Yeah, but are they cool movies or are they movies for old people and war veterans who haven’t been alive for the last 100 years?”
“...You know that I don’t really know the difference.”
Ned gives a sad shake of his head. “You’re lucky you liked Star Wars, bro. Otherwise we’d be in a very different place right now, like, friendship-wise.”
“You still didn’t answer the question.”
Peter got to pick the movie for their classes’ Cinco de Mayo party. Peter’s not sure what either movie has to do with the Mexican Army’s historical defeat of the French, but he only picked Selena because Ned suggested it. Maybe he should be regretting that choice, if the other option was harmless little Spanish birds.
“You know, Parker, I have a question,” comes a very annoyingly musical voice from behind them.
Peter just barely resists to roll his eyes. Every time with this kid. Not that Peter is any less of a kid than Flash Thompson, technically, but he definitely feels more mature.
Ned, also more mature than some of their other classmates, completely ignores Flash.
“You’ll be humming the disco medleys for weeks, I promise.”
“Wait, wait, disco? I thought you said this was supposed to take place in the 80s and 90s?”
“Music endures, dude.”
“Hey, el idiots, I’m talking to you!” Flash interrupts again.
“That’s not even how you—” Peter starts to correct, only to realize he’s stepped directly in it when Ned groans.
Flash laughs obnoxiously to himself. “Just can’t help yourself, can you, Penis?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter grumbles. It doesn’t really matter what he says now. Flash has the attention that he wanted, which means he won’t bug off until the bell rings and until he has the last laugh. And that always happens, because he’s really the only one entertained by all of the poking and prodding at Peter.
Peter breathes in, steeling himself. He’s survived worse. So much worse. Bullies with electric prongs and steel cages and control over every other aspect of his life. This is just high school. Normal kids survive it all the time, even when there are bullies and bad test grades and cliquey subcultures. This is just one privileged asshole who thinks Peter’s an easy target.
In some way, Peter’s actually proud of that. No one has ever seen him as un-intimidating before. Even his Hydra captors knew that if they lost control of him as an asset, he could easily turn on them.
(Part of him always asks why he never did. If he wasn’t evil, if he wasn’t like them, then why didn’t he just fight back? But Sam says that’s just his mind trying to deal with trauma, and Peter is trying really, really hard to get better at ignoring those kinds of intrusive thoughts.)
Speaking of talking to himself, Flash snaps his fingers in Peter’s face to get his attention back.
“You’d think for such a genius, you’d be a lot quicker on the uptake.” Flash shakes his head like he’s disappointed.
“Please just get to the point already,” Ned begs, throwing his head back.
“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”
Peter’s hearing blanks out.
Pet.
It echoes.
C’mere, Pet.
Stay down, Pet!
He was property, he was an animal, he was a weapon, their weapon, he was a mutant and he deserved it, needed it, he was the Spider, a mongrel, nothing, he was nothing and no one and Hydra was the only home a no-good runt like the Spider would ever have and he should be grateful—Kneel, Pet, be a good boy and kneel for your masters—but he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t—
Foolish Pet, you wouldn’t survive out there.
You need us, Pet. You’ll always need us.
“Peter?”
He returns to the moment with one heaving breath, only to realize he can’t take in another.
His collar is too tight, they always put it on too tight and if he complains they hit him and if they hit him he bleeds and it gets on his clothes and he won’t get any more until his bath and he hates bath time because they water is cold and stings his skin and the soap is so harsh it burns his nostrils and they’re watching him he knows they’re watching because they never leave him alone because if they did he would try to escape, he would—
“Peter, what’s wrong, are you—?”
He did. He escaped and ran away but now they have him again and he can’t live like this, not when he knows about best friends and pizza and friendly ribbing and how warm he feels when Tony pulls Peter close on the couch and presses a kiss to his head and tells Peter that he’s proud. He can’t be here anymore, he has to go, he has to run.
“Peter, wait!”
Tony is, to say the least, nervous when he gets a call from Midtown Tech’s front office.
He trusts Peter by now. The kid has come a long, long way since he snuck onto the Avengers helicarrier during the chaos of a Hydra raid. Skinny as a rail, scared, brainwashed...abused.
The Spider.
Peter didn’t like being with Hydra since they were the ones that made him enhanced, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be locked in an enclosed space with a bunch of Avengers at the time either.
As was evident by the fight he put up until Steve knocked him out. Steve still feels bad about cold-clocking a kid when Peter jokingly brings it up now, but Tony’s never shamed Steve for the decision. It was that or some kind of drug injection with the way Peter fought back tooth and nail, confused and defensive. Practically feral, from the well-fitting clothing to his lack of speech.
It was all for the better, though, once they got him back to the compound.
Peter was a talkative kid once he let himself be. Funny, too. Almost normal, if you forgot the mutant spider genetics and years of torture from a bunch of descendant assholes that seemed to hate and resent the very thing they created.
That’s why Tony agreed to let Peter start school. Real, normal, human school just like every other teenager in America attended until they finished all twelve years of it.
Because he needed to be normal, sometimes. He needed movie nights, [other things], and most importantly, friends that were his own age rather than a bunch of adult superheroes that often acted like children.
But also because Peter wanted to go, and Tony had a really, really hard time denying anything that the kid wanted when he could so easily provide.
Peter had such a hard time wanting anything, in the beginning. What did Peter want to wear instead of the plain, grey, dirty sweatpants from Hydra? What did Peter want to eat now that he could have an adequate amount of calories for his enhanced, still growing body? What did he want to watch? Listen to?
All of these choices were suddenly available to Peter, but shaking years of being denied any kind of want, any kind of choice took a toll on him that took a lot of work to get through.
Peter had put in the work. Unsurprisingly well. He was smart—tactically from years of being trained for missions, academically from whatever education Hydra must have thrust upon him. Not so much socially, but they were doing better as Peter spent more time around people that actually cared about him and lobbed insults around to tease rather than to actually cause emotional harm.
But was that enough...training, of sorts, to be around a bunch of teenagers? Sure, Peter was technically also a teenager, but they’d found him at 14. Tony still looked at Peter and saw the wide-eyed little kid sitting in the corner of a containment cell, flinching every time Tony moved.
Two years later and a lot of growth physically and emotionally, but was it enough?
Tony was hesitant about it, wish-washing the entire summer with maybes and I’ll think about its until the deadline arrived and Tony had to actually make the call.
Peter had pleaded, citing an extensive, cheesy list of films that made him want the high school experience himself for some reason. He very genuinely enjoyed shopping for school supplies. He passed Midtown’s entrance exam with results that faked years progressing in homeschooling that Tony knew would have been true, if Peter had gotten the chance to grow up like he was supposed to.
So, Tony eventually said yes, knowing that one day this call might come and Tony would have to be prepared for whatever was on the other end of the line.
An “incident” of some kind. Whatever that meant. The secretary was entirely unclear, only insistent that Peter’s family should get down to the premises immediately to handle things.
That was Tony.
Part of Tony couldn’t fathom why Peter chose him out of everyone on the team to latch onto. Another part wasn’t exactly shocked. Trauma recognized trauma, after all, even if the context was entirely different.
Tony knew what it was like to be belittled. To be seen as something you weren’t. To be abused by someone you never really trusted in the first place.
He and Peter talked a lot in that little containment cell. Hours of Tony blabbering like he always did when he was uncomfortable and Peter just sitting and waiting, waiting, waiting for the strikes to start coming.
When he said his first words.
When he told Tony his name—not Spider, but Peter Parker, a little boy from Queens who lost his parents and his whole normal life in the same night, according to FRIDAY’s records.
When he touched Tony’s arm for the first time and got a smile instead of a reprimand.
He waited and Tony was patient and it was a rough road, but...Tony was kind of a parent, now. A parental figure, at least, among others of varying degrees of quality and influence on a scarred teenager.
He was Peter’s family, whether either of them was any good at it in a traditional way or not.
And also, you know. His money was paying Peter’s tuition. His time went into helping Peter study for the entrance exam. His name was technically on Peter’s manufactured birth certificate because he was the one forging it and it wasn’t like anyone else was offering when the subject came up.
And maybe, a little, because he cared about Peter. Loved him. Wanted to be what Peter needed, what he deserved, and what better way to do that than to write his name on a piece of paper that signified the job he sort of kind of wanted?
Tony slams the car door behind himself after pulling into Midtown’s parking lot, putting on his sunglasses for the brief trip into the early afternoon sun. He’s checking security cameras, exits, and also preparing a hefty sum of cash to go into Principal Jim Morita’s bank account as well as a handful of government officials, if that’s what it takes.
Again, not that Tony doesn’t trust Peter, it’s just...when you get this kind of call and your kid is a highly trained former assassin, you prepare exit strategies on multiple fronts.
It’s been two months and Peter has only made one friend at this place. The kids can’t all be angels like Peter proclaims Ned Leeds to be. If one of them touched Peter out of nowhere or said the wrong thing, maybe Peter lashed out. Maybe Peter forgot to hold his strength back like he’s been training to do. Maybe something was broken.
Maybe it’s something far worse.
Tony has to be ready for that. He has to be ready for whatever it takes to protect Peter.
At the very least, the police aren’t on site. That’s probably a good sign that they’re willing to leave this as an internal matter for now.
The unhelpful secretary of before leads Tony out of the office by the arm at a quick pace, not explaining the situation at all before they arrive at the scene. Whatever it is. Tony was definitely expecting more blood or yelling or...anything, really.
A small crowd stands outside of a door, marked by a golden plaque to be the janitor’s closet.
Leaning on the door itself with his arms resolutely crossed is a kid about Peter’s age. Short black hair, light brown skin, dressed so similarly to Peter that Tony’s starting to wonder if that’s where Peter’s new obsession with those geeky little t-shirts has come from.
“Mister Leeds—” An older Asian man pleads, dressed in a suit and standing up straight with all of the authority he can seem to muster against the stone wall that is the teen in front of him.
The kid shakes his head in response. So this is Ned, then.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not moving. If he wants to stay in there to calm down, he should be allowed to stay in there.”
“I’m sure his parents—”
“He doesn’t even have—you don’t even know what he’s gone through!”
“And you do?”
“Well...kinda? No. But—but he’s obviously freaking out and everyone crowding around him is only going to make it worse!”
The adult rubs a hand across his forehead, stressing at a fold of wrinkles that settles there from the stress.
“Ned, I recognize you’re just trying to be a good friend, but this is a problem for—”
Tony clears his throat, catching the attention of both parties.
The older man sighs. “Oh, good. Thank you, Theresa, you can go on back to the office. We’ll take it from here.”
The secretary nods, brusquely turning around and heading off, leaving Tony there to be examined by both Ned and what must be the principal.
“Mister Stark, I’m glad you could come down, though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’m Principal Morita.”
“Obviously you know who I am,” Tony replies, shaking the man’s hand. “What did happen, exactly? Theresa was sparse on the details.”
“I told you, it’s Flash’s fault! He was being a dick and—” Ned shouts.
“Mister Leeds.” The principal interrupts, stern. “Another student apparently said something...unkind to Peter. He didn’t take it well and locked himself in the closet. I haven’t even been able to assess the situation properly yet. Normally I would start with asking Peter’s side of the story, but...”
He looks to the closet, where Ned still stands, defensive.
“The bouncer is a real stickler, got it,” Tony jokes, aiming a small smile at Ned. “Peter does seem to attract the protective type.”
“Oh,” Ned says, suddenly meeting Tony’s eyes and gaping like a fish. He seems to have finally realized exactly who he’s talking to. “Oh, wow. Mister Stark, it’s an honor. I’m a huge fan, like, so huge. Peter tells me to shut up about you at least three times a day. When he showed me a picture of you guys I was like, ‘Oh my god, your dad is Tony Stark!’ and he was like ‘Oh. Yeah, I guess you’d know who he is, huh?’ like he totally didn’t get how awesome it is that you’re Iron Man. And I know you’re only kind of his dad, but still—”
“It’s suddenly become very clear to me why you two are friends,” Tony responds, keeping his smile on.
It’s actually kind of sweet to see that Peter’s found someone to confide in, even if he’s seemingly left out the more traumatic elements. But he also knows that Peter can hear them through the door, and he wants to get to the kid as fast as possible instead of dawdling for time.
If Peter wants to see him, that is.
He does, doesn’t he? Tony has been there for everything, so far. Every breakdown when the choices became too much, when the world outside of Peter’s little cell and all of the things he did that he wishes he could forget attack him at night. He hasn’t gotten old enough to not want Tony around when he’s upset, right?
“Sorry, Mister Stark. Sorry,” Ned apologizes. “I’m just nervous and worried about Peter and—”
“I get it, kid. You’re good.” He gives a reassuring grasp to Ned’s shoulder. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I really need to see Peter now. You can ask him yourself, but I’m usually the exception to any rule about Peter wanting to be alone.”
“Right, yeah. I’ll just—”
Ned turns to open the door, but gives Morita a shifty look, like he doesn’t trust the man not to dive bomb in if given the chance.
“Peter—”
“Let him in,” replies Peter’s strained voice. He’s definitely been crying. Poor kid.
Ned pulls back and nods at Tony, stepping aside to let him through.
“You did a good job protecting him, Leeds. Thank you,” he says to the teen before stepping into the dimly lit closet and shutting the door behind him.
The room smells musty and over-powerful at the same time thanks to the potent combination of cleaners and the mop cart sitting so close together. Out of anywhere Peter could have picked, this probably isn’t the kindest to his sense of smell if it’s making Tony already scrunch his nose.
It’s lit by a single pull-chain light bulb, and in the shadows of it sits Peter, curled into himself and leaning against a rusty metal shelf filled with paper towels, cleaning equipment, and a few bottles of product that have to be expired.
“Hey, Pete.” Tony frowns at the cracked floor tile, but settles himself next to Peter anyway. His back catches some kind of spray bottle sitting on the shelf that digs uncomfortably into his back.
Peter sniffs, not looking up from the cradle of his arms. “Hey.”
Tony heaves a sigh, for the drama. “So, I hear you got your first bully.”
Peter shrugs. “Guess so.”
“That Ted kid is pretty nice. He’s a good friend.”
“Yeah. And his name is Ned.”
Tony stops beating around the bush. “What happened, Peter?”
“It was fine. It was good, you know? I got an A+ on my Spanish test, and Misses Rodriguez offered to let me choose the movie we were gonna watch for the Cinco de Mayo party as a reward. I didn’t even know any of the movies, but Ned said Selena was good because Jennifer Lopez is hot, so that’s what I picked. It was a good day, Tony!”
“...But?”
“But then Flash—”
“I meant to ask, is that his actual name? Like, legally?”
“No.”
“Oh thank god.”
“Flash said…he said I was a…” Peter’s hesitant to let it out.
“Pete, a lot of kids at this age are testing boundaries. They’re going to say a lot of stupid, insensitive, offensive—”
“He said I was a teacher’s pet.”
There’s a long minute of silence. Tony blinks curiously a few times. He doesn’t want to belittle what Peter’s feeling, but he also doesn’t understand why it’s caused him so much stress.
“I know, I know it’s—but they used to—” Peter swallows hard, probably only delaying another wave of tears. “Sometimes, before, they would call me…”
“Pet.”
Peter nods, starting to shake next to him on the floor, their arms lightly touching at just Tony saying the nickname.
“They liked it. I think it made them feel better about themselves if they acted like I wanted it. Like—like being locked in the cages or collared or—or being muzzled was good for me.”
“You need to learn a lesson, little pet. Be a good pet and eat your dinner. Stop your crying, pet. No more of your barking, pet.” Peter quotes with venom flinging from every syllable. “But I didn’t want that, Mister Stark! I promise! They gave me these powers and I didn’t want to be their pet and they made me—”
“Peter, I know. It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault, I know.”
Tony curls Peter into his side, rubbing his back consolingly.
“When Flash called me that I just—I felt the collar around my neck again and I couldn’t breathe though the muzzle and they kept kicking the cage even though it hurt my ears and I could never sleep in there because it was so small and—”
“Peter—” Peter’s hyperventilating. He’s panicking, Tony realizes. Probably just like he did initially. A flashback that triggered him into having a panic attack.
“And I know that’s not what Flash meant but I was back there and I can’t—I can’t stop—”
Peter breaks into sobs, burying his face into Tony’s shirt and clutching on tight.
“Oh, Pete. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Tony soothes.
He presses a kiss to Peter’s hair, unsure when he became this tender. Probably the moment he realized this was the way he wanted someone to treat him in the midst of his worst, most vulnerable moments.
“Sometimes the bad memories come back unexpectedly, it’s alright.”
“But don’t wanna think about it anymore!” Peter cries childishly.
If it wouldn’t break Tony’s ribs, Peter would probably start banging at his chest in frustration.
“What if it gets bad and I don’t talk anymore and I can’t go to school like a normal kid and I lose everything and then you won’t want me anymore because I can’t get over this and stop being a stupid animal who needs its owners to—”
“Peter Parker, no. Absolutely not.”
Tony pushes Peter away so he can hold the boy’s face in his hands. So that he can fucking imbue into this kid how much he is loved and cherished and human.
“You’re not property, and you’re not an animal. What they did to you was wrong, and you know that now. I know that you do.”
Not just because Peter’s been to therapy since integrating with the Avengers, but also because he’s talked to all of him during his recovery from the horrors of his earlier childhood. About how his life felt before and how it feels better now. How he wouldn’t have left in the first place if he really wanted to be a part of Hydra like they raised him to want.
He’s not the child soldier they raised anymore. He’s so much more than they ever allowed him to be in that awful place.
He loosens his grip on Peter’s face only to bring him back again with an arm around his shoulder. Maybe if Peter feels him, touches him, the kid will remember all of the growth he’s made, the family he’s gained.
“Buddy, you are getting better. I know it. I’ve seen it. You know we’re all so proud of you and the progress you’ve made.”
Tony sighs. Part of him wants to sugarcoat it. That Peter has seen the worst of the world and now he’ll just be able to move on from it scott-free. It’s what he deserves, but Tony knows from experience that nothing in life is that sort of kind.
“That doesn’t mean you won’t have setbacks. I have had setbacks. Healing from the bad stuff is really, really hard, but it doesn’t make you anything that they said you were. You’re a wonderful, good kid who deserves everything he’s worked so hard for. And you’re going to get it because you have me and the team and your new best friend behind your back. You’re not alone, you’re not in a cage, you’re—you’re home, Pete. You understand?”
Peter sniffs, a sign that he’s worked himself up again, but his weak nod into Tony’s chest tells him that some of them at least might be happier tears.
“Listen to me, Pete. And I mean really, truly listen.” He looks down at the snot-covered, tear-stained teenager practically in his lap. He does love Peter. He wouldn’t have gone this far for any other kid in the world.
“It doesn’t matter what happens—hitches, mishaps, a dumb teenage mistake. You’re our kid now, Peter. You’re never going back to Hydra. Never. Not with me around.”
He knows it means something to say it out loud rather than leaving it to be assumed. He doesn’t have as much of a problem admitting it as he thought he might.
“I’m never giving you up, or letting you go, or treating you like anything other than a person. Do you understand me? That is something you never, ever have to worry about. Not from me.”
Peter sobs against him. This time it feels a lot more like relief. A release in the safety of Tony’s arms that Peter hasn’t really allowed himself, even after two years of being free of Hydra.
Peter didn’t tell the team everything. He may never even tell Tony everything. But this is one more thing Peter doesn’t have to carry alone, and Tony is happy to help their kid navigate the horrors it's brought back into his improving life.
They sit there for another minute, Peter’s whimpers muffled in Tony’s dress shirt. He’s sure the principal and Peter’s friend are getting antsy. But all the same it gives Peter another chance to calm down, and this time he seems a lot lighter when he picks his head up to look at Tony.
“Feel better?”
Peter gives a sniffle, but accompanies it with a nod and bright, attentive eyes.
“Look, I think school’s a bust for the day. Let’s go home. Whatever you wanna do, just you and me. Nobody else needs to hear about this unless you want to tell them, okay?”
“And if you wanted, I guess…”
Peter tilts his head, expectant.
“We could...nah, it’s probably offensive, right?”
“What?” Peter insists. Tony tried to warn him, but Tony also can’t resist an idea once it pops into his head.
“I just thought, you know, if you wanted—if you thought it would help, we could get you a—“ He almost ruins it, but catches himself. “An animal. Like a dog or something.”
Peter is silent. He bites at his lip, contemplative. Looks in the direction of a mop bucket in the corner.
“Is that bad? You don’t have to, I just thought it might make you associate that word with good things, but if not—“
Peter finally meets his eyes with a tentative grin on his face.
“What kind of dog?”
#irondad#spiderson#au#friendly neighborhood exchange 2021#marvel#peter parker#tony stark#my writing#hailxhydra
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Ship: jjpope/mayward
Words: 1.5k (multichap, i’ll be posting the first chapter here and the rest on ao3)
Ao3 link: right here
Summary: library au. pope works at the library, and jj asks for help studying.
Pope likes his job.
He does, really. It’s just- frustrating, sometimes. The stupid teenagers; the mountains of books the owner makes him stay behind to stack; that musty smell that makes him sneeze every three seconds. It can be okay, of course. He’s always loved books, and he’s always dreamed of working at a library. It just isn’t what he expected.
Between college, studying, and taking care of his dumbass roommate, he hardly has enough time for work. After the first week, the ‘wow-I-work-at-a-library-and-this-is-straight-out-of-a-romance-novel’ magic wore off, and was replaced with stress, dust, and piles of unsorted books. And, worst of all, other students from his school come in constantly, and all he can do is keep his head down and pray they don’t see him.
Pope, unfortunately, is not a very lucky person.
He’s just about ready to die when he hears his name get called by someone he definitely recognises. The blonde from his history class is sitting at a table in the corner, waving him over. Pope feels his stomach churn uncomfortably as he approaches, his hands growing sweaty as he take’s JJ’s appearance in. His eyelashes are highlighted by the sun, much like his hair, and his bruised knuckles are flexing as his fingers strum nervously against the table. Pope's mouth is dry. He fucking hates how attracted he is to this guy.
“Hey, P,” JJ smiles- all teeth, no eyes. Fake for the sake of charm. “I didn’t know you work here.”
Pope grimaces. “Enough with the nicknames, please.”
“Isn’t Pope already a nickname?” JJ grins, bringing a beaten up pen to his lips and leaning back in his chair. He lifts his foot up to the table to balance himself, the action striking the other’s blood cold.
“No feet on the table,” Pope almost-sneers, swiping at the blond’s boots. “You aren’t even reading anything. Why are you here?”
JJ holds a hand to his heart. “I’m totally reading.” He reaches across the table, picking up an old-looking textbook for their history class. “Studying, actually. Why don’t you join me?”
Pope narrows his eyes. “Seriously? Bye, JJ.”
“Wait!” the blond calls as Pope turns. “I need help studying, okay? I came here for some quiet, but I can’t concentrate. I just- I’m gonna fail midterms if I don’t get this done. I’m already behind in, like, a bajillion classes. Please, man.”
Pope pauses. “If you wanna pass, you should stop fucking around in class. I see you with John B in the back. You’re super annoying, by the way. Some of us are here to, like, get college degrees, so we can get jobs. We’re not all trust-fund sons here on Daddy’s money.”
“I’m not rich, if that’s what you’re implying,” JJ scoffs, looking almost offended.
Pope shakes his head. “No way you got here on a scholarship.”
“Okay, I won’t take any offence from that,” JJ says. “You make a fair point. The dean paid for my tuition. A special, 100% discount. Just for me.”
Pope furrows his eyebrows. “What, did you blackmail her? Did you sell her meth or something?”
“She’s my mom, dude. Chill,” JJ laughs.
Pope tries to ignore the way his stomach flutters when JJ laughs. “So you are rich,” he deadpans.
JJ rolls his eyes. “Nah, she just owes me. I grew up in North Carolina, in the Outer Banks. Right in the shitty part, like the lucky bastard I am.”
Pope can’t help the way that piques his interest. “Really? I grew up on the coast there, I visited the Outer Banks a few times.” He shuffles his feet, his posture relaxing by the tiniest degree. “How is your mom the dean here, though? She’s been at this school, for, like, decades.”
“Fifteen years, actually,” JJ corrects, pointing a finger. “Can you help me study now? I’ll put a good word in with my mom. Then you can, like, be at the top of all your classes and fulfil all your nerdy dreams. What do you even wanna be?”
“A mortician,” Pope replies. “I’m really into forensic scien-“
“A mortician?” JJ interrupts, a laugh strung along with his words. “What the fuck? That’s the grossest shit ever. I thought morticians were people who just, like, failed at being real-people doctors.”
Pope grits his teeth. “Dead people are real people. It’s a respectable and interesting science. You probably wanna be a MacDonald’s worker or something, anyway.”
“A MacDonald’s worker?” JJ scoffs, holding a hand to his chest “Pope, I’m offended! Am I not currently attending this prestigious university? The very same one that you attend?”
Pope raises his eyebrows, his head tilting downwards. “Yeah, but my mom isn’t the dean. I think we got in for vastly different reasons.”
“Vastly different- Pope! Why must you injure me so? My pride, it’s just… falling apart, at your very feet!” JJ exclaims, throwing his head back and rocking in his chair. He pauses, palm resting upwards on his forehead in a dramatic pose. “Will you pick it up for me? It’s just- it’s right over there. I don’t think I could manage.” He motions to the floor, where the sun highlights a soft rainfall of dust.
Pope scowls. “Fuck you, JJ. You can study by yourself.” He turns on his heel, his blood pumping unsteadily in his ears.
He hears a clatter behind him. “Wait, Pope! Shit, one second-” there’s another few crashes, sounds Pope doesn’t want to dignify with his eyes. “Pope, man, come on. Do me a favour.” JJ pauses, the library falling silent for one small, sweet moment. “Please?”
Pope presses his palms to his eyes and exhales sharply before turning around. “Why should I help you? You’re annoying, you’re rude, you don’t care about school-” he looks past JJ’s shoulder, where his chair is tipped over next to a pile of fallen books. “-and you’ve made a mess in my library, that I have to clean up.”
“I’ll clean that up. I promise.” As if to prove it, JJ takes a step back, without actually doing anything to fix the mess.
Pope blinks, unimpressed and growing more frustrated by the second. “Why do you even need help?”
JJ stares for a moment, eyes trailing along the shelf behind Pope’s head, as if avoiding his gaze. “I’m dyslexic.”
Pope nearly laughs. “So? Dysexic people can read. And study. I don’t see the problem.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t-” JJ pauses, motioning vaguely with his hand. “I didn’t, like, learn how to.”
Pope tilts his head. He’s trying his best to look condescending, but he’s afraid he’s failing miserably. “Your mother is the dean. The college has plenty of resources that can help you more than I can. Your old schools should have, too.”
“My old schools?” JJ repeats, eyebrows raised. “Pope, bro, you should know me well enough to know I never went there. And my mom doesn’t know, so I can’t use the ‘resources’ she apparently has anyway.”
Pope scoffs. “Your mom, the dean, doesn’t know that you’re dyslexic? Are you seriously making a learning disorder up just to annoy me?”
“I am not!” JJ exclaims, brow furrowing. A few strands of hair fall in front of his eyes, making Pope’s mouth go dry. “I was diagnosed in, like, the third grade. But my mom doesn’t know. And she can’t know.”
“Why not?” Pope asks. His voice catches, and he’s ready to drop dead if he doesn’t compose himself.
JJ waves his hand. “It doesn’t matter. But I have to pass if I wanna stay here. Can you just- help me out? Just this once?” He interlocks his fingers, twisting them uncomfortably, his purple knuckles flexing as his fingers twist. “I won’t bother you again. I promise.”
Pope considers running away for a moment. Just- running away. Turning on his heel and abandoning his responsibilities. But he’s getting paid minimum wage to be here, in this too-loud, too-messy, too-annoying library, and he’s worked hard for it. To be at this school, to be in this very building.
And JJ, the apparent son of the dean, wouldn’t be a bad person to get behind. Perhaps he’s annoying as he is blonde, and his eyes are prettier than they should be, and his stupid, worn-out boots make Pope want to stomp like a misbehaving child, but he’s the son of the dean, and Pope wouldn’t mind being on her good side.
“Will you put in a good word for me? To your mom?” he asks. He may as well take advantage of the opportunity.
JJ seems taken aback. “Yeah! Yeah, of course, of course. I’ll tell her all about you, put a good word in. And you’ll help me?”
Pope sighs. He clenches his teeth, jaw working as he hesitates to reply. After a considerable silence, he speaks. “Fine. But- don’t be annoying, okay? And stop rocking in your chair, you’ll break it.”
JJ grins, eyes sparkling, and runs a hand through his hair. “Great, man. I have my history book with me now, but if you’re still working I can, like, chill out. Or whatever.” He smiles, properly this time, like he’s been saving it until now.
Pope is definitely going to regret this.
#jjpope#mayward#television#writing#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#fan fic#obx#obx2#obx jj#outer banks#pope#obx pope
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Americans have been saying for a year they want to get back to normal. Tragically, they're getting their wish.
With the gradual return to public places comes a specter the country was all too willing to set aside as it grappled with a pandemic capable of killing thousands of Americans a day. Mass shootings are starting to make headlines again, and though their return is most unwelcome, they've proved to be an inextricable part of life in the United States.
The latest mass killing left 10 dead at a grocery store. For the past 12 months, Americans have been vigilant in grocery stores to avoid contagion. Monday's slayings in Boulder, Colorado, reminded them that even with pandemic hope on the horizon, they should remain vigilant for a different reason.
This is a hard thing to read, but important. Full text under the cut.
CNN | 3/24/2021 | Listen Analysis: Mass shootings signal a dubious 'back to normal' in America Analysis By Eliott C. McLaughlin, CNN
Updated: Wed, 24 Mar 2021 00:21:23 GMT
Source: CNN
Americans have been saying for a year they want to get back to normal. Tragically, they're getting their wish.
With the gradual return to public places comes a specter the country was all too willing to set aside as it grappled with a pandemic capable of killing thousands of Americans a day. Mass shootings are starting to make headlines again, and though their return is most unwelcome, they've proved to be an inextricable part of life in the United States.
The latest mass killing left 10 dead at a grocery store. For the past 12 months, Americans have been vigilant in grocery stores to avoid contagion. Monday's slayings in Boulder, Colorado, reminded them that even with pandemic hope on the horizon, they should remain vigilant for a different reason.
Americans shouldn't have to fret about dying in a supermarket, or at a spa, or anywhere for that matter. Catching a bullet should be far from their minds, but with a return to American normalcy comes the reality that anyone could die for nothing, just about everywhere.
Seven mass shootings in seven days
Just as the country is conquering a new pandemic, an old, familiar epidemic makes its return. The last week has been a harbinger of what "back to normal" means for the US.
The most recent string of senseless gun violence began March 16 when a shooter killed eight people at three Atlanta spas. The next day, a drive-by in Stockton, California, injured five people who'd gathered for a vigil.
Four people were hospitalized Thursday after a shooting in Gresham, Oregon. On Saturday, a pair of shootings at clubs in Dallas and Houston left a young woman dead and 12 people injured. Shortly thereafter, a shooter opened fire at what Philadelphia police termed an illegal party, killing one man and injuring five more.
Now, Boulder makes seven in seven days. When the gunfire at King Soopers stopped, 10 lay dead, including hero officer Eric Talley, the first policeman on the scene. His wife and seven children will pay an astronomical debt for their dad's bravery.
"Flags that have barely been raised back to full mast after the tragic shooting in Atlanta that claimed eight lives and now the tragedy here, close to home, at a grocery store that could be any of our neighborhood grocery stores," Colorado Gov. Jared Polis said Tuesday.
The King Soopers location where the melee unfolded is one of about 1,000 providers in Colorado working to repel the killer Covid-19.
Steven McHugh's son-in-law had queued for a dose of vaccine, like more than a million other Coloradoans. He was third in line, and his daughters chatted with their grandmother on the phone as he waited, McHugh said.
When the gunfire erupted, a bullet found its way to the woman at the front of the line. Her fate is unclear, as is much about Monday's shooting. Authorities haven't divulged a motive, but history tells us it won't make sense.
McHugh's son-in-law fled with the girls -- one in seventh grade, the other in eighth -- to an upstairs staffing area above the pharmacy and hid in a closet. Dozens more shots rang out, McHugh said, citing his son-in-law.
It was "extraordinarily terrifying," the grandfather told CNN, "and of course the little one's saying, 'The coats weren't long enough to hide our feet,' as they were standing behind the coats in the closet."
'A normal we can no longer afford'
The US government doesn't have a centralized database to track mass shootings, but anecdotal accounts indicate they were down during the pandemic as Americans were encouraged to stay home and many of their favorite gathering places were shut down.
Former President Barack Obama called for action Tuesday, expressing disbelief that only Covid-19 could quell the gun violence the country has long endured.
"A once-in-a-century pandemic cannot be the only thing that slows mass shootings in this country," he said. "We shouldn't have to choose between one type of tragedy and another. It's time for leaders everywhere to listen to the American people when they say enough is enough -- because this is a normal we can no longer afford."
For the mass shootings that did unfold amid the pandemic, their locations were frighteningly familiar: a Buffalo, Minnesota, health clinic; a bowling alley in Rockford, Illinois; a Wauwatosa, Wisconsin, mall; parties in Rochester, New York, and Washington, DC; and a brewery in Milwaukee where, authorities would learn later, the gunman had been employed.
Gun violence is not a uniquely American phenomenon, but part of the rich American tapestry are threads of evil and violence: people (almost always men) who use weapons (often firearms) to snuff out innocents. Sometimes they're mentally ill, but more often they're just angry or vicious.
Their reasoning -- when it's attainable -- fails to provide closure. Outrage invariably erupts after each massacre. One side demands stronger gun laws. They're labeled un-American. Their opponents tout the Second Amendment. They're labeled callous. A stalemate ensues until the next killing, then repeat.
Within an hour of the Boulder killings, the National Rifle Association tweeted the Second Amendment. It later retweeted it. Nothing more.
It should surprise no one that a special interest group champions the Second Amendment. The amendment is a promise to every American, but 15 years prior to its ratification, the Declaration of Independence brought other promises of rights deemed "unalienable."
The full guarantees of "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" will never be achieved by Officer Talley, Tralona Bartkowiak, Suzanne Fountain, Teri Leiker, Kevin Mahoney, Lynn Murray, Rikki Olds, Neven Stanisic, Denny Strong, Jody Waters -- or any of the thousands of victims who fell before Monday in Boulder.
'Part of the American experience'
In all likelihood, another person died by a gun while you were reading this. Despite the media's breathless focus on mass shootings, gun violence takes myriad and frequent forms.
According to numbers from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the country saw 14,414 homicides in 2019 -- about one every 36 minutes -- while another 23,941 souls fatally turned guns on themselves -- roughly once every 22 minutes.
In his statement, Obama called out other scapegoats: disaffection, misogyny, hate. The United States has monopolies on none of these, though it has special brands that can be pernicious.
Sandy Phillips, who co-founded the organization Survivors Empowered to console and guide survivors of gun violence, pointed to the victims who suffer in silence, because the killings of their loved ones are seemingly not important enough for the newspapers or the nightly news.
Doubt her? Google the details about last week's shooting in Stockton, California, one of the most racially diverse cities in the nation.
"We have mass shootings in slow motion every day in this country, in other neighborhoods that never get the press, that never get the opportunity to speak out about what's happening in their communities -- and we need to change that," Phillips, who lost her 24-year-old daughter Jessica Ghawi in 2012 to gun violence in Aurora, Colorado, told CNN.
Those neighborhoods often belong to minorities, who have had a particularly rough time of the pandemic as well. It's another crushing American axiom that society's ills tend to home in on people of color, and those victims must yell so much louder to be heard.
There will be much yelling in coming days, perhaps weeks. Obama is right when he said Americans possess the ability to "make it harder for those with hate in their hearts to buy weapons of war. We can overcome opposition by cowardly politicians and the pressure of a gun lobby that opposes any limit on the ability of anyone to assemble an arsenal."
The margins are thin, though, and the complexity of that American tapestry will be on display. A Gallup poll from late last year showed 42% of Americans had guns in their homes, a number that's risen since 2019. Another Gallup query indicated 57% of Americans want stricter gun laws, a percentage that's on the decline.
Former FBI Deputy Director Andrew McCabe said "absolutely nothing" will stop the country's return to pre-pandemic mass violence if lawmakers refuse to curb access to the weaponry.
"This has become part of the American experience, and let's not forget: It's completely unique to us," he told CNN. "There's not another similar country on Earth that experiences the same number, the frequency of mass shootings as we do, and it is directly attributable to the profusion and the availability of guns, particularly high-powered assault-style weapons and how easily pretty much anyone can acquire them here in this country."
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WAYV AS HOGWARTS STUDENTS
QIAN KUN
ravenclaw , head boy, muggleborn
excels in every class he takes
when he first discovered he was magic, he flipped out
he had a matilda episode in his room one night
he was staring intently at his toy planes, wondering how it would be like to fly one someday
then suddenly it just?? levitated??
as an eight year old, he did the only thing he could do in such situations—scream bloody murder
first year : in his newly pressed robes and neatly gelled hair, sat at an empty compartment and started reading his textbooks
until the compartment door opened and a cat just walked over him
“oh sorry, leon doesn’t behave very well” says ten who he did not think would stick around but guess what? his cats liked him
being sorted into ravenclaw, he quickly became famous for being the smartest and wittiest most sensible? wizard of his year
he was especially great at charms got so surprised that there was an incantation to make things float, since all he has been doing is just think it (flitwick got a shock at his first year doing wandless magic)
as he grew older, almost everyone depended on him for help in everything
he couldn’t go a day walking in the corridors without someone asking to meet up at the library or thanking him because they aced their tests
but of course, this little ravenclaw had a limit
he didn’t mean to, but one day he just snapped at a poor gryffindor who kept bugging him to meet at the courtyard to practice spells (everyone finally left him alone, too scared to face the wrath of a wizard who knows all the spells for duelling)
OWLS year—the most memorable year for him, as he and ten spent nights in the library (and sometimes in the kitchen but if anyone asks only ten was in there) studying their bums off
that summer, ten just received a holler from him (surprise! he got all o’s)
naturally, he had been picked for prefect and head boy
the first years LOVED him
he taught them all the secrets to their tower and even handed them a parchment full of riddle answers, because let’s be real, even though you’re a ravenclaw doesn’t necessarily mean you want to use your head all the time
eats at the hufflepuff table because they have better breakfast items
adopted a whole assortment of kids with ten (winwin kinda just sticked around because yangyang was his buddy)
would be the boys’ go to— from pesky spells, ink blotts on their robes, th right grams for mandrake powder, they all depended on him for it
hendery was once asked why he wasn’t scared of him (knowing what happened before)
“he’s not dumb enough to duel someone because they’re bugging him. that’s why he’s in ravenclaw”
overall 9/10. minus one point because he still feels the need to get the last remark in everything.
LI YONGQIN
hufflepuff, pureblood
loves hanging out at the common room
doesn't really care much for grades, but does his best when studying
his housemates call him a sloth
moves so slow, especially in the mornings
likes taking walks along the corridors because it's fun to see other students rush and run to their classes while he walks a leisurely pace
always has his tie loosened
sometimes, he doesn't even tie it, he just wraps it around his collar and hope no one notices everyone does
has a talent for transfiguration
will turn anything into cat snacks
he once turned his homework in kibble and his excuse was "my cat ate it"
befriends all the cats in hogwarts
sometimes he lays down at the courtyard and they all just gather around him
one legendary moment (as lucas likes to call it) was when he was walking down the corrider and a train of cats just followed behind him in a single file
sweet wizard boy, befriends humans as well
he's so likeable, everyone just feels drawn to him
has this laidback energy that feels like a breath of fresh air when things get hectic in the castle
speaking of fresh air
he likes to stroll around outside, most of the time dragging yangyang and winwin out with him
"winwin could use the fresh air and your voice doesn't echo" - ten to yangyang
his sister is friends with yangyang's sister, so growing up he kind of babysat the three whenever their families would be together
he didn't imagine that it would continue during school, but poor winwin looked like he just wanted to get his head bitten off
despite having a lot of friends, he sticks with kun most of the time because he's not as chatty when he's focused (and kun is focused all the time so)
his favourite thing to do anywhere is lay down on his back and play with his wand, sending wisps of magic swirling around in the air, creating beautiful artwork
received pencils and a notebook from kun so he could just draw because "your magic might hit someone and i do not want to be involved with any of that"
doodles all the time
he likes to draw butterflies and magic them off of the paper and makes them follow his friends around
doesn't really say much when no one's talking to him, but will keep the conversation going casually
wanted to become a prefect so he could have his own bathroom
would patrol around at night with his cats (hendery jokes how he looks like filch and now he takes his filch impersonation seriously)
when catching students, he makes obvious remarks like "oh wow good to know that there aren't any gryffindors in this corridor! it would be an awful hassle to report them. good thing everyone's in their chambers!"
very lenient on students he doesn't know, but will threaten those he does and ask for something in return
accidentally gave yangyang the idea of becoming a prefect so he needn't have to worry at night
also accidentally gives yangyang dare ideas to give to hendery
he doesn't mean it! most of the time
overall 10/10. everything is cancelled out by the fact that he goes around the castle with atleast 2 cats following him around.
DONG SICHENG
slytherin, pureblood
mr frowns-a-lot, mr don’t-talk-to-me, mr i-want-to-go-back-to-my-dorm
the most stereotyped slytherin
first years believe that slytherins are scary because of him (but they immediately get debunked by hendery “you’re scared of a tall dude who gets tired from talking and likes to eat chocolate? yeah okay”)
but yes this not so little bean finds talking draining
it’s not that he doesn’t want to, but why would he have to talk about his day when as far as he knows, everyone just did the same thing he did??
you can barely get a sentence out of him
will reply with nods or shrugs and just point or look at things
only talks during class when the professors ask him questions
yangyang bugs him the most
when he got assigned to take care of this chatty, full of energy first year he almost cried
ended up just following him around and yanking the back of his robes to stop him from getting into trouble
because of this, yangyang’s friend are his friends
first got introduced to xiaojun, lucas, and hendery
ended up becoming a babysitter for four
when he met ten, he almost cried again, but now out of happiness because he got yangyang to shut up
met kun last, and immediately took a liking to him for no reason at all
no one knows how, but suddenly mr-i-dont-want-to-do-anything started getting more mischievous and talkative
the whole hall got surprised when he laughed at lucas’ lame joke
this may be an exaggeration but the boy doesn’t even smile
after this incident, lucas just kept talking to him and he just kept replying, and pretty soon the four little troublemakers would joke around with him and he’d just sit back with kun and ten when he got too tired
this made him attractive
but unlike lucas who got confessed to everyday, there was no one who confessed to him
he didn’t really talk to anyone else and just minded his own business when he was alone, so everyone was too scared to confess to him
which is a huge relief to him because the not so little bean is actually very awkward
proven when hendery accepted yangyang’s dare of going right up in winwin’s face omygod when i tell you his whole face turned red
he avoided hendery for a week until he realized it was too hard since they have most of their classes together??
speaking of classes, it’s a miracle how he just passes everything since no one actually ever sees him studying or doing homework
it’s like everything he does is magic well
overall 7/10. doesn’t really try that much and will only voluntarily hang out with kun.
HUANG XUXI
hufflepuff, halfblood
was tiny, like a little bug
no one knows when he got so tall (summer of second year, he had to buy new robes for third year because they were already too short)
spends breakfast half awake, focusing on eating his meal and listening to yangyang complain about how hard his transfiguration classes yesterday were
he’s never around for dinner because he’s always at the pitch and no one has the energy to talk to yangyang in the mornings so he’s the poor guy
everyone loves him, no one can find a single thing to hate about him even if they tried
loves care for magical creatures with hagrid (he measures his height with the half-giant)
other classes? not so much
sure he tried a little bit, but why would he need to transfigure something into a pen when he could just look for one, and why would he need to concoct a drowsiness potion if he can just will himself to sleep
speaking of sleep, he does that a lot
he likes to wait for xiaojun during fourth period because they had arithmancy next, and he would lean against the corridor and sleep
learned how to sleep hunched over so it looked like he was focusing on class (begs whoever he’s sitting with to wake him up)
why does he do this?
“i’m saving up my energy for later”
he’s a quidditch beast
part of the quidditch team, originally tried out for seeker but they realized he couldn’t go fast enough without loosing his balance on his broom
he switched to being a beater, which the team found out he was very good at aha great power comes with great biceps
everyone falls in love with him when he’s on the pitch
he looks big and scary and ultra focused
and they realized after 3 games that he focuses so much because he aims the bludger to hit the player’s upper thigh only (this prevents player from taking a fall and just bruise, not break a bone)
once he accidentally sent his bludger flying too hard and knocked the chaser off, but he was faster than the seeker and caught them (followed the poor chaser for a week saying sorry and giving them semi burnt cookies he made with xiaojun)
gets confessed to every other day and just says “thanks”
but why don’t you ever reject them?
why deny that i’m handsome?
that makes no sense
as with rejecting them!
but truly is an angel
he even got winwin to actually converse with him
he makes everyone feel comfortable, talks to everyone and just hangs around when they don’t want to, offering company
overall 10/10. his cockiness about his looks just makes him endearing since everyone knows he can’t break someone’s heart.
XIAO DEJUN
ravenclaw, halfblood
kun’s reincarnation
but there’s one problem
he’s still immature
you would think he’s the prime example of a ravenclaw
practices his passions all the time
likes doing brain-productive things
reads about anything he finds interesting
goes in and out of their tower because he thinks solving the riddles is fun
but ho ho ho oh oh no
he’s a little devil
makes snarky comebacks under his breath that takes a little bit for you to understand
makes things harder on purpose just for fun and because he’ll be the only one able to do it
has a joke for EVERYTHING and never repeats them so i guess he can get away with that
he’s a little menace to the society but he can get away with it because it’s all just minor inconveniences
but we all know minor inconveniences are the most annoying things
likes to annoy kun the most because he understands and reacts immediately
doesn’t like to annoy the hufflepuffs because they just smile at him in confusion
despite that, he’s also a little sweetheart
remembers everything his friends say, so he’s always there to remind them
reminds kun about a test he has to retake, ten about his changing patrolling schedule, winwin’s meeting with a professor, lucas’ need to polish his broom after dinner, hendery’s homework, and yangyang about that incoming howler from his parents
when he realized he’s such a great asset, he became a bit nosy too
likes to meddle with all of his friends’ business
so if someone wants to find any of the six, he can tell you a vague description where they are
because of course he’s not gonna tell you lucas is by the lake practicing his swinging, he’s gonna tell you he’s brushing up on his quidditch skills so you’d go running to the pitch
this way he’s not technically doing anything wrong to both parties
one day, kun asks why he likes doing this
“it makes me feel like a king maker. feeding things into their tiny brains and knowing exactly what they’ll be doing”
“that’s not exactly what a king maker does”
“yeah but does it look like i want them to be more powerful than me?”
co-parents a dog with lucas
aka lucas asked him to take care of bella while he’s in practice but he forgot to take her back with him for 2 days so now bella thinks she lives in the ravenclaw tower too
does random errands for his friends as a way of apologizing (but really just as a leverage so he can cause more trouble)
his ultimate goal was to brainwash everyone so they couldn’t live without him and he succeeded????
now they’re the receiving end of all the sermons his professors give him (you wouldn’t expect it, but he causes quite a ruckus in class)
but still, at the end of the day, they choose to sit next to him at the ravenclaw table during dinner
overall 7/10. he’s annoying, but he’s good at everything he does and helps his friends out in different ways. which makes him more annoying because why? why not
HUANG GUANHENG
gryffindor, muggleborn
does not understand magic. like at all
the only reason he’s still managing is because he refuses to be beaten by xiaojun
he doesn’t know why he’s in gryffindor but anyone who’s ever met him can vouch for the sorting hat
he’s courageous in the way he faces learning magic (it won’t hurt me, i’m magic) he's brave to speak up to anyone and ask for help when he needs it, and most of all, he has the nerve to get right into winwin’s face
surprisingly good at harder spells than that of his year level, so he’s in a few higher level classes
the reason being he wants to save face when with upperclassmen so he actually focuses real hard and actually understands
because when he’s with his friends, his mind goes wandering and he can’t focus his magic
a very strange wizard indeed
imagine getting help from xiaojun to levitate a piece of parchment but can explain to ten how to brew an advanced potion
he’s very confident in his abilities
why would he be nervous to stay after curfew??
if filch catches you
then don’t i just have to avoid him??
but has realistic fears
will not go near a broom
yeah okay the broom can fly, but can he?? he can’t even levitate a piece of parchment, how can he levitate himself?
also very practical
lucas kept struggling since he kept spilling his ink pot so he handed him a pen
“dude i forgot these existed!” “who writes with feathers??”
the most laid back yet extra ordinary wizard ever
you can start a conversation with him and he can keep it going for hours on end
very friendly, will talk to anyone but the downside to this is that he talks to everyone like they’re his friends asdkjshjkd even mcgonagall
overall 7/10. uses magic to solve trivial muggle things and still makes bets with yangyang up to this day.
LIU YANGYANG
slytherin, pureblood
a force to be reckoned with
spend a day with him and your ears will bleed
why?? does?? he?? talk?? so?? much??
his friends always complain but everyone else in the castle can’t see why
in the eyes of a stranger, he’s actually cold and reserved, hard to approach
but if you actually knew him
oh boy you’d want to not
can talk for hours
he and hendery wanted to know just how long he could talk
so they timed it
talked for 9 hours straight, no one knows how they managed
good thing this talking is actually useful
he likes to recite during class, always has a lengthy explanation for his answers
people aren’t the only one he talks to
he talks to the ghosts and to the paintings, greeting them a lovely day or whatever
besides talking, he also has another passion–quidditch
he plays as chaser for his house, often times taking his time to freshen up, so he goes back at about midnight during thursdays
good thing ten patrols during thursdays
speaking of ten, he’s been a brother figure for him all his life
so when he was introduced to winwin, he got so excited because he had another brother
by the end of the night, fourth year winwin knew everything about first year yangyang
he loooves his buddy
tries to do everything with winwin but he doesn’t let him
despite being too much to handle, winwin actually likes him too (but don’t let yangyang know)
likes to do dumb dares with hendery
isn’t really into pranking and getting all up into other’s business, so they manage their mischief between the two of them
and the whole of hogwarts just enjoys and guesses which of the two would be the one running around the great hall in their pajamas
yangyang actually encourages his fellow slytherins to stop sticking among themselves
mostly because he’s tired of them bugging him to “go ask your gryffindor friend if there’s homework on-”
at the end of the day, all his slytherin friends have been adopted by ten, took a liking to kun, and watches lucas, xiaojun and hendery fool around for entertainment
that being said, he loves his friends
thankful that he has classes with at least one of them for all his classes
all his professors have learned to sit him next to them, otherwise he’ll just slack off and stare into oblivion
he’s actually more productive when he has someone to remind him to be
okay maybe sitting him next to hendery wouldn’t result to school productivity
overall 9/10. it would be an 8 but he actually does acknowledge he talks too much.
#chaislatt#wayv as#kun#kun x reader#wayv kun#wayv kun x reader#ten#ten x reader#wayv ten#wayv ten x reader#winwin#winwin x reader#wayv winwin#wayv winwin x reader#lucas#lucas x reader#wayv lucas#wayv lucas x reader#xiaojun#xiaojun x reader#wayv xiaojun#wayv xiaojun x reader#hendery#hendery x reader#wayv hendery#wayv hendery x reader#yangyang#yangyang x reader#wayv yangyang#wayv yangyang x reader
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