#history class 12 notes

[akitauma]

SAME

"back on my bullshit" in reference to recurring hyperinterests dating back to middle school and beyond

[coolwyous]

┈─★ 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ( 𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 — 𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙤. )

   ⊹ ࣪ ˖ your professor contacts you to ask if you’d be willing to share your notes with a classmate that has requested a bit of help. you’re more than happy to help, until resident hockey star megan skeindiel is hitting you up every week, expectantly waiting for you to hand them over...

   ˎˊ˗  ❄️  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  🔓୭˚.  ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

   ➴ pairing: hockey player! megan skiendiel x english major!f!reader

   ➴ genre + wc: 10k, college au! one-sided enemies to friends, friends to lovers, dorky hockey jock megan, mostly fluff tbh

   ➴ you might want to tune in...: ditto - njz

┈─★ a/n: wigline was giving boyfriend in that livestream and i was trying to decide what sport before i was struck w the idea of megan and her beanie bros as wanna-be-frat-boy hockey stars. planning on making this part of a larger universe, goalie!lara and captain!dani coming next. enjoy!

eng121: intro to british literature. meets tuesday and thursday from 11:00 to 12:15. 

you’re always a few minutes early, an easy walk considering your world history lecture is just upstairs. you’ve always been punctual, thus why you’re first to class every time. it’s definitely not so you can get a front row seat in the lecture hall to make a good impression on your favorite professor teaching your favorite subject. 

the lecture hall starts to slowly trickle in. you don’t know anyone in this class, which is okay– you’re there to focus anyways, and given that your grade is an impeccable 98% by the end of week 5, you figure you’re doing something right. of course, minji and belle would say you’re doing way too much, every late night study session you pick instead of joining them for another party celebrating the hockey team–

your mind trails to thoughts of that damn women’s hockey team. they’re loud, they’re arrogant, and worst of all, they’re everywhere.

you hope they’re gone on an away game today. it’s so much easier to focus when they’re not there. 

but unfortunately, you’re not that lucky. the idiots come bursting in through the door. a curly haired blonde, a grinning brunette with red tips, and the tallest of the three, a button-nosed ginger. each wearing the team’s signature letterman jacket. you hate the sight of that damn letterman jacket.

they’re rough housing with each other, pushing and shoving, until eventually, one of them crashes into your desk, sending your bookbag and its contents flying. you feel your teeth grit together— any closer and it would have been your coffee all over your brand new laptop. 

“sorry, sorry,” the blonde screech-laughs, scrambling to catch herself before she tumbles. you spot the hickeys shamelessly scattered on her neck. you wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised if she had showed up half drunk to class.

“bro, pick them up for her at least,” the red-haired one laughs.

“i got it,” you say through gritted teeth. you want to say as little as possible to these idiots.

but it’s the tall one who is kneeling down with you, scooping up your pens in her hands, offering them to you all while avoiding your gaze. “uh, sorry ‘bout that.”

“it’s fine.”

“cool miffy eraser.”

“thanks.”

is she expecting you to thank her? for picking up four pens and an eraser that her friend dropped?

your professor clears his throat once the teaching assistant arrives, signaling the start of class. the three stooges share a look between themselves before hurrying up the steps of the lecture hall, making their way up to a back row where you’re certain they’re planning to just good off and distract everyone for the rest of class.

you sigh as you return to your seat and focus on the words in front of you on your laptop. you hate hockey.

“hi y/n,” sophia, the delightfully nice upperclassman TA of your course approaches you as class ends. “got a minute?”

you nod, packing up your backpack. sophia has taught a few lessons in the course, her powerpoints engaging and meticulous, and you can’t help but admire how perfectly she navigates the content. talk about goals. 

“the university resource center reached out to us and said a student is requesting accommodations. a note-taker is all they’re asking for. that means we can find someone in class to assign to take notes for the student.”

“me?” your eyebrows arch as your realize what she’s asking.

“i’ve been grading your class’ discussion posts. you very clearly love british literature.” she smiles, and you feel your neck burn at the compliment. “it’s a decent pay, and you can just offer whatever notes you’re already taking. we just need to let the student know by friday. let me know?”

minji gives you the push you need when you get home to your dorm later that day and explain your situation to your roommates. 

“you’re already taking the notes. might as well get your bag,” she shrugs from her bed where she’s playing animal crossing.

belle nods in agreement. “plus, you love being helpful. our bleeding heart.”

you roll your eyes and shoot an email to sophia, receiving a smiley face as her reply just a few minutes later. 

-

you printed out your notes up to that point in the quarter to have them ready for thursday’s lecture. sophia said she’ll introduce the two of you at the end of class, all you have to do is hang back. you ruffle through your backpack once class ends, tucking your laptop away as the last of your classmates begin to trickle out the door.

your professor waves to you as he leaves, and you happily get up from your seat to approach sophia.

at least– until you’re cut off by someone clumsily stepping in front of you, in a flash of ginger hair.

your heart drops. no way in hell.

“hi.” she says simply, face unreadable. today, her and the three stooges kept showing tik toks to each other in the middle of lecture, at least three accidentally blasting at full volume. you want to tell her the hell off for always disrupting your favorite class, but sophia’s eyes are eagerly on you, and you want to impress your new mentor.

“hi,” you manage to get out behind gritted teeth.

this girl is way too overdressed for an 11am english lit course. white button up shirt, a messily knotted tie, dickies and that stupid letterman jacket with the leather sleeves. the beanie she usually sports is nowhere to be found, letting you get a better look at her features. 

not that you particularly care to look at her. she’s not even giving you the decency to look you in the eyes, instead, just fixing her glance at your hand and pointing.

“i need that,” she finally says after an awkward pause. she points again. “uh, those.”

“you?” you’re still in disbelief. you’re going to spend every thursday after class giving your beautiful, pristine notes to this entitled fuckboy jock?

“unless uh, if you’re not y/n y/ln, and those aren’t for me,” she adds, peeking down at her phone to confirm the details. 

“i typed today’s lecture.” you feel a scream bubbling in your chest, but you manage to suppress it. “let me send them to you. let me give you my email.”

“ah, cool.” she hands you her phone, already opened to her student email account. you glance at the cinamoroll phone case, when she finally catches you off guard, adding a quick “thank you.”

“no problem.” well, yes problem, but maybe it’s more of an ego thing. at least she finally said thank you.

“if you could send, uh, all of them. that’d be easier.” the athlete scratches awkwardly at the back of her head. you’re a bit irritated that you wasted all that paper trying to print them and be polite, but whatever. bleeding heart or whatever belle said, you figure you can’t exactly be choosy about your good deeds if you want the karma. 

“and we have an away game next week, so i’ll be missing class on tuesday. if you can email me then too…”

“got it.” when did you sign up to be a freaking personal assistant?

“thank you.” she dips her head down, lips pressing together into a fine line. “i’m megan.”

“bye megan,” you wave, before snatching up your backpack and getting the hell out of there.

-

you’re left in peace next week as the three stooges aren’t there on tuesday.

thursday rolls around, and megan is waiting for you in the hallway by the door again, leaning against the wall. you’re starting to feel extremely irritated by the whole situation. she didn’t even reply to your emails from last week or this week to say thank you for the notes you emailed. at the very least, she could let you know that she got them, right?

“you can just email them, all of them, in the future. save the paper,” she tells you as you hand her your annotated paper copy of that week’s powerpoint. you squint at her and walk off without a word.

-

the one good thing that comes out of this arrangement is that sophia invites you to get coffee with her after class, and your mentor becomes one of your favorite friends in the span of a week. 

“i didn’t know you got accommodations for being a jock that misses half a semester’s worth of class,” you say irritatedly as you pick your order up off the counter. 

sophia laughs. “i’m so sorry… they don’t tell me why they need the notes, just that they’re approved for them.”

“ugh, i’d kill for someone to give me all their notes,” minji, who tagged along, complains. “stupid hockey players get everything handed to them.”

“do you think that’s really it though? like they get free access to a notewriter because they miss so much class? and the university obviously wants to keep making money off of them,” you speculate. “holy shit. that’s so unfair.”

“i don’t know anything about how the student athlete system works,” sophia wrinkles her nose. 

you’ve already made up your mind. come this thursday, you’re putting your foot down.

-

thursday’s class comes. megan’s stupid blonde friend does actually spill your coffee this time. now, you’re not only pissed with megan, but pissed with everything that surrounds her. her friends leave the lecture hall with the taller girl trailing behind them, but you grab her by the sleeve to stop her. she’s dressed normally today: beanie, hoodie, sweats, and that stupid jacket on top of it all.

“y/n,” she greets, almost cheerfully. “you don’t have to keep waiting for me, the emails are fine-”

“i don’t think you deserve my notes any more,” you cut her off. you’re waiting for it, the entitlement, the meltdown, whatever it is that shitty people who take advantage of you do, but it never comes.

megan simply wrinkles her nose and shrugs, scratching awkwardly at her forehead.

“well, i’m dyslexic, so there’s that.”

“oh my god.” that’s why she got the accommodation approved. not because she’s a jock. you’re swept over by a wave of instant regret. you pray to god you’ll live this down. “i am so sorry.”

“your notes are also really, really helpful.” megan holds up the paper she had been hiding in her hand. a bright red 72 is circled on the quiz. 

“a C?”

“technically a C minus,” she corrects you playfully. “and it’s the best i’ve done on one of these stupid quizzes since the semester started.”

you feel your nose burn with embarrassment. “i’m sorry.”

“i’d be annoyed too if someone took advantage from all my hard work.” she offers a tilt of her head. “i promise i’ll be more grateful.”

“no, you don’t have to do that.” you’re still reeling from megan’s quiet confession. “i was being neurotic.”

“here, ah, put your number in,” she hands you her silly cinnamoroll phone case. “i’ll send you a QR code, you can scan it for free drinks at the cafe. student athlete discount.”

“i’m sorry again,” you grimace. 

she shakes her head. the smile playing on her lips stirs something in the pit of your stomach.

“it’s no worries. i’ll see you next week.”

-

two weeks after your whole expose on megan, you two have fallen into a cordial rhythm of nodding to each other at the end of every class. you appreciate that she acknowledges you now.

however, this does not diminish your burning hatred for the hockey team as a whole. 

you’re in the middle of impressing your professor, explaining the contrast between romanticism and modern cynicism, bringing in points you had connected from your intro to philosophy class. 

but it’s hard to finish the thoughts when the three stooges are causing a ruckus from their corner of the room. you see lara smack dani in the shoulder, the two struggling to catch their breaths in between silent laughs. megan, stuck in the middle of them, looks clearly distressed. 

your eyes meet, and you swear there’s something apologetic in the way she looks at you. 

your professor is equally as unpleased as you are, glaring at the trio as you finish your thoughts. 

“miss skiendiel? any thoughts?”

you can’t help but feel bad. if anything, megan was the least guilty of the three. it was the other two that were giggling like little stupid frat boys. 

“uh yeah,” megan leans back in her chair, clearing her throat. she’s quiet for a few moments before she simply shrugs and scratches at her nose. “ditto, y/ln.”

dani bursts out into laugher and a few other snickers are heard throughout the lecture hall. you grit your teeth. is she too cool to care? you had started to let yourself think that maybe she was more than a mindless jock just coasting through classes so she could focus on playing. but every chance she gets, megan just feeds the fire. 

she tries to nod at you after class, but you’re not having it. it surprises you when she steps into your way, ducking her head down to meet your gaze. you curse silently at how much taller she is than you.

“hey,” she chirps. 

“what do you want?” 

“i’m sorry about them. they’re—“ she pauses, processing your tone. “hold up, are you annoyed with me?” 

“i shouldn’t be?” you snap. 

“why would you? i was trying to tell them to shut up.”

“and then you opened your mouth, and it was like you couldn’t be bothered. you act like you’re above it all.”

she’s staring at you in disbelief, that stupid beanie obstructing her brows but you can see the confusion in her eyes. those big round puppy dog eyes widen. 

“that? y/n, you think my dumb ass is gonna be able to come up with something on the spot right after you just sounded so smart? much less in front of everyone?”

“you’re always so over it.”  you roll your eyes, reaching down to grab your backpack. “care at least a little.”

“y/n, listen to me.” megan holds her hand out to stop you and her voice drops, but it’s not threatening. it’s almost… shy?  “y/n, you scare the fucking shit out of me. that’s why i’m so quiet. i’m trying to think of what to say.”

you blink back in confusion. “i’m not scary.”

“you’re like a super genius.” the athlete gives you a pleading look. “my brain feels like i dropped it in the toilet and soaked it in rice.”

you laugh at her comparison. she grins and you figure you can forgive her, at least this time. 

“that’s dramatic.”

“i’m hopeless. your notes are the only thing keeping me holding on.”

you feel an ache in your chest. megan isn’t all that bad— just a girl desperate to make progress even if she’s sinking. 

“are you busy tonight? i can come help you study,” you offer, and you can already hear belle clowning you for your charity work. 

her grin widens, exposing the whites of her extremely nice teeth. you feel yourself soften, even if just for a moment.

“you’d be saving my life. i’ll text you my dorm after practice.”

“don’t stand me up,” you warn. you wonder if it went to your head, hearing megan admit you intimidate her.

but then her lips curl into a playful smile, nodding as she strides backwards out of the classroom. “yeah, ditto, y/n. i better see you then.”

you’re in her building as soon as she texts you that she’s out just a few hours later. you double check the number on the door and feel your heart pound as her neighbor walks out, eyeing you up and down before heading down the hall. ugh, you pray you don’t look desperate.

“megan?” you call out, knocking on the door. the door gives way, clearly not locked or even closed all the way, and you immediately spot the flash of bright orange hair. she’s hunched over in front of her bed, eyes fixed on the laptop with a set of headphones covering her ears. her hair is in two braids falling over her shoulders.

“y/n! sorry, these things are noise cancelling,” she apologizes, motioning for you to come join her. you step in, and she tries to turn the laptop away from you, which you flag as suspicious. “i got started without you.”

you lean over a little further and roll your eyes as you see what’s actually pulled up. it’s a hockey game. 

“so much for studying time, skiendiel.”

“no, no,” she says hurriedly, pulling the headphones completely off her head.  “i’m listening to your notes. look.”

she pulls up her phone and true to her word, she’s using speech to text to read the document out through her headphones. 

your heart breaks at her brows furrowing together, those dark eyes pleading up at you. she’s just a fucking puppy. 

“it’s the only way i can focus. i have to watch my games back to relax. i already did my workouts, ate, packed for tomorrow. it’s the only way i can fit everything in and not go crazy.”

“i can read them to you,” you offer.

“i can read,” megan wrinkles her nose. “i just waste more energy trying to figure it out than actually retaining anything.”

“i can read, and explain it to you,” you modify your initial suggestion, before you even realize what you’re doing. why are you so eager to help this girl? a month ago you were complete strangers, and she was the bane of your existence.

but there she is, the jock you hoped would never show up to class again, looking up at you with the most round brown eyes that keep rustling something in you. is it pity?

“you must think i’m so fucking stupid,” she grimaces, shaking her head. 

“i think you’re willing to work hard,” you tell her gently. “that counts for a lot in my book, actually.”

she says nothing, flipping open her copy of the class textbook. but the look she gives you, warm and full of gratitude, says everything.

you two spend the next hour, criss crossed on her floor, papers and books strewn around you. your review is going better than you anticipated: she’s quiet, focused, and attentive to all the comparisons you draw.

“i hate this fuckass romantic period,” megan hisses as you finish your next reading of a lord byron piece. you noticed her brows furrowing halfway through as she tries to keep up. “so much poetry bullshit.”

“you’re good at poetry. it’s all metaphors for big feelings,” you encourage her, before a memory that comes to mind helps carry your point across. “the thing you said about your brain the other day was an amazing metaphor.”

“that? my brainrot? i speak like that ‘cause i can’t figure out how to say what i really want.”

you realize what it is, your question from earlier. it isn’t pity. megan is just a nervous, hard-on-herself girl, stuck in the expectations of others, a victim even to your unfair judgement. literature has always come easily to you– you can’t imagine how hard it must be for someone to be trying to navigate that at a disadvantage and still give it their all. 

you put a finger on it. it’s not pity. it’s admiration. 

“it paints a picture, perfectly,” you tell her, pushing back against what you realize is her constant cloud of self-doubt. she shakes her head, but the smile is there, telling you you’ve broken through to her. you press on, preparing the next passage to read out loud. “just imagine these old white dudes are trying to do the same.”

you don’t finish up until 10pm, when her roommate enters and seems genuinely surprised to see you both.

“hi marsh,” she greets.

“ah, i was wondering why our neighbor warned me that you had a girl over,” the accented girl greets, grinning cheekily. “they couldn’t possibly imagine you’d just be studying.”

you see megan’s face burn red. you laugh to cover up the flash of heat that takes to your neck from the speculation. 

“they’re conspiring against me ‘cause i’m really not like that,” megan groans, standing up hurriedly. “you’re gonna make my tutor think i’m a piece of shit.”

“don’t let her fool you,” the brunette smiles warmly, pointing at megan. “heart of gold, this one.”

“ah okay, now that’s too much.” megan tries to bury her face in her shoulder awkwardly, handing you your shoes. “let me walk you out.”

belle texts you to remind you that she’s outside the dorm to pick up dinner with you, like you had agreed. megan walks you down, waving awkwardly to your roommate before turning to you with that same awkward wave. 

“uh, bye. thank you again. made a lot of sense when you broke it down.”

“i’m happy to come by again soon, if it made a difference,” you smile.

“only if you were already planning to study by yourself. don’t go out of your way for me,” she tells you forcefully.

“i’m happy to,” you reassure her. “good night megan.”

maybe you catch her off guard by saying her name, but the way her eyes widen makes you laugh. there’s something charming about her undeniable awkwardness. she waves again, and watches carefully from the building doors as you stride up to belle, waiting for you on a nearby bench.

“that’s your charity project?” she questions, “your horrible hockey jock?”

“i might’ve been quick to judge,” you admit, looking over your shoulder. megan is still there, leaning against the doorframe, watching you guys walk off. “she’s not all bad.”

“not all bad? you made her seem irredeemable,” belle laughs, looping her arm in yours. 

her only crime is liking hockey and being awkward. you sigh, and belle changes the subject, but you’re stuck thinking about it for the rest of the night. megan deserves a chance to show you who she is before you decide it for her.

-

and she does exactly that. megan, once she feels more comfortable, turns out to be a complete goofball. you’re laughing so hard at her stupid jokes one study session that you cough up red bull out of your nose and megan nearly passes out laughing with you. megan exposes that despite the hockey player stereotype, she is completely harmless. you watch her awkwardly let people cut her in line, or sip a drink made incorrectly when you get coffee together, all because she’s too nervous to speak up. megan is a mama’s girl and has nightly calls with her mom, sometimes interrupting your sessions, but she’s quick to mumble an ‘i love you too, mom,’ when she thinks you can’t hear her. and you learn that  megan, more than anything, loves hockey.

megan is also insanely humble, and is used to hard work. you start to realize just how much the athlete has on her plate.

you guys are leaving class one day, trying to decide when your next study session should be, when she explains what a normal day looks like for her. conditioning, nutrition, physical therapy for an old back strain, at least a half hour every night of reviewing her game tapes to see how she could have played better. and that’s not even including the hour-and-a-half practices she attends every day. and in megan’s case, you realized, she shows up an hour early to get a head start. that’s not even to mention the travel time involved with away games.

no wonder she only hangs around those stupid jock friends of hers. with the exception of her roommate, it doesn’t seem like she’d have much time to make friends outside of that. 

you’ll admit, however, that lara and daniela are slowly growing on you. dani lives in your dorm building, and lara is the only one with a car on campus, so megan will sometimes end up inviting them to come and study with you guys. lara, confident and forward, is extremely friendly and makes you feel at ease once you stop seeing her as some frat boy wanna-be. dani, a self-proclaimed attention whore that you discover also is extremely emotional, has a laugh so infectious it’s easy to see why her and lara are usually distracted in class.

and then megan, tagging along like their dorky little sibling, constantly begging them to stop drawing attention to themselves. you start to read her face, noticing when she’s dying of embarrassment from something they do.

you start to really know megan, and she lets herself be known, an open and honest response for every question you ask as your friendship deepens over the weeks.

“why do you come to class so dressed up sometimes?” you ask one night, trying to figure out how to help her pre-loop up her tie for the next day. you’re sick of seeing that crooked knot on her neck and offered to teach yourself on youtube to help her out.

“you’re supposed to dress formal on game days.” she explains. “like, to respect the sport or whatever.”

“i see,” you hum, trying to focus on remembering where the next loop goes through. you realize on the days megan is dressed up, you see a ton of people wearing their fan merch. you finally connect the dots. “i didn’t realize this many people liked hockey.”

“yeah, ‘cause you’re a giant nerd and don’t pay attention to sports. hockey is our biggest sport here.” megan teases. “half of our graduates go pro.”

“oh,” you blink. you’re becoming painfully aware of how close you two are, your fingers sliding behind her neck to tuck the tie behind her collar. “you must like the attention.”

“no. i like the game.” megan’s still awkward, but as your friendship has grown, she’s gotten better at correcting your incorrect assumptions. “the attention makes me lose focus.”

“do you wanna go pro?” you ask.

“yes,” megan says, and it’s quiet like a confession. 

“i think you can do it.” you say it so confidently, but megan lets out a deep breath that tells you she’s doubted this. you hope she takes your faith in her to heart.

“i would say you should come see a game, but you wouldn’t know the difference if i played great or got my ass beat out there,” she laughs. 

“i think you’re the hardest working person i know. you’ll make anything happen.”

“that’s really nice, y/n.” she watches as your fingers finish the final loop, pulling the knot into her collar snugly. “you’ve always been so down to believe in me.”

“promise you won’t forget about me when you make it big?” you grin teasingly. you smooth out her collar around her tie before feeling your neck burn at the proximity between you two. and yet, you don’t find yourself rushing to move away.

megan’s eyes draw to you with something in them, something gentle and different than before. 

“of course,” she smiles, but there’s something more. you’re not brave enough to ask her about it. 

-

your phone buzzes you awake. you don’t bother to reach for your glasses, simply seeing 1:29am is enough to irritate you. but then you see the contact photo, a goofy candid of megan with her beanie pulled down over her eyes, and you figure you can’t be that mad.

you slip into the hallway to not wake belle and minji before picking up.

“hi.”

“y/n?” her voice is raspy and so, so sweet. you wonder if she’s just as tired as you are. “what’s up, what do you need?”

“you called me, dumbass.” you laugh. “in the middle of the night, i might add.”

“oh shit, right right,” she says cooly. 

you laugh again. megan’s humor is so, so stupid, and you have no clue how she can manage to make you laugh every single time.

“how’s the hotel?” you ask. it’s an away game against washington state.

“too stuffy, and we have a red-eye in like three hours.” she sighs. “daniela just got back from partying and woke me up.”

“at least she didn’t bring anyone back to the room this time,” you say.

“god, please do not remind me of that, y/n,” megan pleads, and you can picture the way she’d give you that panicked glare at the memory. you laugh at the way she told the story when it had first happened– rooming with dani for a game against oregon when the blonde made megan sleep in the bathroom so she could hook up with a sorority girl. megan described being traumatized by what she could hear through the door, and you nearly died of laughter.

“try to sleep. red-eyes can be brutal.”

“i’ll nap when i’m back home,” she reassures you. you’re already planning out what you’ll bring her for lunch as a celebration. you didn’t know much, but you knew that these semi-finals were no joke. 

(you don’t mention minji clowning you for tracking the score of the game, and sophia giving you a questioning look when you screamed in the middle of the dining hall once megan’s team had won.)

“i’m literally whispering and dani says i’m making too much noise. i’ll kill her,” megan adds, and you can practically hear the eye-roll.

“you’re not killing anybody, you big dork,” you laugh. “you should go to sleep.”

“fine fine, bye hater.”

“good night, megan.”

“good night, y/n.” 

you attempt to pay no mind to the flutter in your chest as you make your way back into your dorm, diving into your bed. before you close your eyes, a text from megan makes that flutter even harder to ignore.

wanted to hear your voice

yeah?

i get homesick on the road :/

aw you poor baby

thanks for picking up

sure jsyk u can call whenever, you big baby

ditto

-

“what are you doing tomorrow?” she asks you, after a session in your room where you’ve finished drilling the different dates of publications into her head with a stupid memorization song. 

“i don’t have any plans besides–”

“besides reading books by boring dead dudes,” megan gripes. “some of the older girls are having a party to celebrate making it to the championships. you should come. you can bring your roommates. the house is so close, it’s like a 20 minute walk from the dorms.”

“i’ll think about it,” you smile.

“think about what?” belle’s voice rings out as she enters the room at the perfect time. 

“just a small house party. i’ve never seen you out before, y/n,” megan says.

“y/n’s a homebody, but i’ll get her there. send me the details?” belle grins. 

you groan as the two exchange numbers, seeming much too devious for your liking. but the night ends, the next day passes by, and you won’t give megan the satisfaction of letting her know how excited you are about this as your uber drops you and your roomies off far later in the night than you’d like to be awake. 

minji squints as the music pounds from the house, barely containing the people that you see through each window. the three of you let yourselves in, immediately met by familiar faces. 

“i thought you said small?” belle laughs as lara and daniela greet you with hugs.

“dani posted it to her public story instead of her private,” lara snorts. “half the university is here.”

“if my crime is to love being surrounded by beautiful women, fuckin’ arrest me,” dani defends herself, hands in the air. 

“y/n.” megan’s voice rings out from behind you. your heart thuds as she stands there smiling, like a puppy wagging its tail. “you made it.”

“take this with me!” dani grins, handing you a cup of god knows what. you haven’t had enough experience to know your tolerance, but you figure you can start with one and go from there. the blonde cheers as the drink disappears down your throat, megan giving you a concerned yet amused look.

“you’ll die if you try to keep up with her,” she laughs. “she’s fucking crazy.”

“thanks for the tip,” you smile back. you see the cup in her hand. “should i keep up with you instead?”

“it’s gatorade,” she grins sheepishly. “i’m play to win, and i don’t like to take risks the week of such a big game. i try not to even let myself get upset. gotta focus, y’know.”

“well let’s pour one out for baby megs,” lara toasts, pouring from a bottle into everyone’s cups. “and y/n, who saved our girl from academic probation!”

“alright lar, not too much now,” megan wrinkles her nose. 

you laugh, and her eyes meet yours, a smile behind their warmth. you’re surrounded by some of the most exciting people you’ve ever met, and yet all you want to do is find a quiet corner and talk to this dork. you feel your chest tense with a weight of something, but you shake your head before the thoughts can develop.

“gonna go get another drink,” you excuse yourself quickly. maybe you need something stronger, just for tonight.

you’re in the kitchen pouring yourself something random when the flash of ginger hair catches your attention from the other room. except, megan’s not alone, and there’s a girl standing a bit too close, touching something on megan’s forearm.

your mouth goes dry. you’d spent so long getting to know the side of megan the world doesn’t see, it hadn’t occurred to you that she could still have a bad side to her. is it even a bad side to be flirting with a cute girl at a college party? you swallow a lump in your throat and drink whatever you’ve put in your cup. of course she’s allowed to do what she wants, and that doesn’t make her a bad person.

you look up again, and megan leans down to whisper something in the girl’s ear. the girl laughs a little too hard, touching her arm again in the process. megan’s funny, but there’s no way she’s that funny, and plus, the only person who ever laughs that hard–

you pause. the only person that laughs that hard at her is you. 

the shots you took are catching up to you. you race outside to the front yard to try and get some fresh air, accidentally shoving into a guy who’s lingering by the door.

“woah, slow down there,” he snaps.

“please don’t talk to me,” you reply quickly, head still spinning

“don’t come to my house and be rude as shit,” he growls in response. “i’ll stop talking to you when i want to stop talking to you.”

you try to diffuse it by walking away, but he grabs you by the arm to make you look at him. you feel hot tears spring from your eyes. an angry frat boy is the last thing you can handle right now.

“no smartass comebacks? c’mon, push back you little bitch.”

before you can even do anything, she’s there, like a knight in shining armor, the outside of her forearm crushing against his windpipe as she shoves him into the wall. the movement comes easily to megan, no doubt her 15 years of aggression on the ice. her eyes are wide, darker than you’ve ever seen them before.

she barely registers him before those brown eyes come to you. you feel your breath catch in your chest with the way she looks at you.

megan drops him in an instant, instead coming to chase you down. 

“i couldn’t think of anything cool to say to scare him.” you realize she’s shaking, her voice quivering. she’s unnerved, but her presence is so so comforting, her rambles are somehow exactly what you need. “i wanted to say ‘i’ll fucking kill you’ and then ‘i’ll kick your ass’ but instead i almost said ‘i’ll fuck your ass.’”

you manage a snort through your tears. somehow, megan makes you laugh even through this.

“‘i’ll fuck your ass’ may have been scarier, actually,” you laugh, sniffling. 

“god, y/n.” her brows are knit together in concern. she looks up at the sidewalk, the dorm lights barely visible down the street. “can i make sure you get home okay?”

“it’s so late already, i can’t let you walk back alone.” you shake your head.

“i’m sure as hell not letting you walk alone.” she scoffs, before giving you a nod of reassurance. “dani lives in your building, i’ll sleep at her’s once i’m in the dorm, i have her keycode. please.”

somehow, despite it being god knows how late, you know nothing is going to happen as long as megan is there. she insists on giving you her jacket and as much as you push back, she ignores you and drapes the zip-up over your shoulders anyways. she chats your ear off about how excited she is for friday’s game and before you know it, you’re back in your room, wobbling on unsteady feet through the dorm, grateful your roommates are still partying it up.

“thank you, for everything,” you tell her, watching as you sit on your bed and she quietly unlaces your shoes. 

“i owe you a lot, that was nothing.” she shrugs, tossing your shoes into the corner. “if i’m good for anything, i’m good for shoulder checking weirdos.”

you laugh. “hopefully that’s the last time i’ll need your services.”

“you can need me forever,” megan tells you softly, smile on her lips. “i’m here.”

“i judged you so hard when i first met you,” you confess, falling backwards onto your bed. you blink, staring up at the ceiling.  “i was so wrong about you.”

“yeah?” she laughs, taking a seat next to you to help put your hair into a bun. 

“you’re such a sweetheart,” you sigh, sitting up. your hand brushes a tress of her hair out of her face. “biggest, most thoughtful dork i know.”

“i’m not dorky,” megan furrows her brow. you laugh as her nose scrunches up. 

“you were talking to someone, i’m sorry.” 

“she was talking to herself and calling it a conversation. i promise, as soon as i saw you walk out, i followed you asap.”

you feel yourself studying her, your heart pressing against your ribcage with something eager to come out.

“i bet you kiss so many girls.” the words spill out of you as the alcohol takes its toll. “how come you’ve never tried to kiss me?”

you see megan’s cheeks flush red, her gaze fixed on the tv as she pulls up a 10 hour dancing fruit video to leave on in the background. 

“i don’t kiss that many girls,” she defends herself softly. 

“you’re so special. megan the future superstar.” you groan, realizing how fleeting your friendship is. all you’ll probably be is a footnote in her life’s story. you furrow your brows. “i want a kiss from megan the future superstar.” 

as drunk as you are, you’re shocked when she seems to comply.

your breath hitches as she leans in. her lips press gently against your temple. 

“there.” she whispers, checking down at her phone. “minji and belle will be here soon, okay? good night, y/n.”

she pulls your blanket up over your shoulders and slips into the hallway. you’re too out of it to ask her to stay.

-

you wake up, and realize someone is in your bed.

you panic for a brief second before you realize that person is playing animal crossing on their switch, completely unbothered by you gaining consciousness. you’ve never been so grateful to see minji before, even if she is smothering you as you cram into the twin sized bed.

“she’s alive,” minji calls out from next to you. belle comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered, and pulls something out of the mini-fridge for you. a pedialyte in your favorite flavor and some pain relievers. 

“thank you,” you sigh to your roommates, feeling your head pound as you sit up and start to chug, swearing off college parties for the rest of your years.

“can’t take credit. your jock left them for you this morning,” belle informs you, a teasing grin.

“oh god, megan,” you wince, recalling your behavior from the night before. 

“she wouldn’t go away,” minji complains. “not until i texted her a picture of me in your bed so she knew i was there.”

“she does the same thing when i walk home with y/n from their study dates.” belle says.  “just watches us from the doorway until we can’t see her any more.”

“y/n adopted a stray,” minji teases.

“if you say some shit about a bleeding heart, i’ll throw up in your bed specifically,” you threaten belle, and your roommates laugh at you as you let out another groan. you figure skipping class for the first time all semester won’t kill you as you lay back down.

-

after skipping all your classes, you’re at a table in the dining hall, meal untouched, your focus instead on trying to draft a text to megan that even begins to fix the mess you left behind last night. you’ve been at the same table for at least an hour, trying to figure out how to even start.

“hey, y/ln.” you recognize the voice as dani’s, calling out from behind your booth. “can’t hang?”

“leave her alone, dani.” the voice makes you freeze in place. you didn’t even get a chance to send your text.

“we missed you last night for spin the bottle,” dani grins. “meg had to get it on with that cheerleader.”

despite all the work you did last night to remember megan’s allowed to do what she wants, your stomach drops at dani’s reveal. 

“yeah, okay, go away,” megan groans, shooing the blonde. dani complies, and megan sits so you’re alone in the booth together, side by side. she rests her head in her hand on the table. “so…”

“i’m really sorry about all i put you through last night,” you immediately start, feeling the regret press in your ribs.

“you don’t have to be,” she tells you softly, head shaking.

“no, i am.” you insist, realizing how stupid it was of you to think anything would ever come of this. megan doesn’t see you as anything but a tutor, a familiar face at best who she’ll leave behind as soon as she makes it big. “i got so caught up. in the game, the party, the celebration.”

“oh. um, yeah?” she asks quietly.

“you’re not a hockey star to me. you’re just megan.” you furrow your brows. “i’m sorry again for all that.”

you were hoping it would clear things up. but it’s like a cloud comes over megan, her gaze hard and more importantly, avoiding yours.

“no yeah, totally,” she wrinkles her nose, eyes clamping shut. you wonder what’s coming over her and panic that you’ve done something you can’t take back. you try to pivot away quickly.

“your game’s tonight, right?” you ask, but she’s already getting up from the table, gathering her bookbag in her hand.

“megan?” you check in.

“yeah, don’t worry about coming,” she tells you, shaking her head. “i know it’s not your thing.”

and before you can utter a single word more, she’s gone.

-

you take a couple of hours to try to do homework in the library, but you couldn’t possibly focus. not with megan’s final expression haunting you, the pained scrunch of her nose, her inability to bring herself to look at you. you have a tab open to a youtube livestream of the game that you can’t seem to draw your eyes away from.

“you look constipated,” minji says plainly as you get back to the dorm. 

“you are such a-” you stop yourself. you’re not angry at minji, you’re angry at yourself. no need to take out a civilian in the crossfire. you suck in a deep breath and try again. “minji, please be nice to me for once. i’m having a shit day.”

“cheer up.” she says so devoid of emotion, you wonder if she was dropped as a baby. but then she’s handing you a card, in handwriting familiar to you but definitely not minji’s own. “your puppy dog gave this to me when we got coffee.”

your eyes nearly bug out of your head. “you got coffee together? today? since when do you hang out?”

“when you were passed out this morning. and i said she was determined, not that i didn’t like her.” you’ll never understand how this girl’s brain works. “anyways, letter, for you.”

you want to ask so many more questions, but a lightbulb goes off as you try to think about the web of connections at this university. 

“and your friendship has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been admiring her roommate from afar with absolutely zero rizz to approach her with? are you trying to have her put in a good word?”

you would pay to watch minji’s demeanor crack like this again. 

“wah, shut up. you spread lies on my good name.” she shakes her head furiously, but nothing ever triggers minji, so you know you’ve hit a soft spot when she gets this worked up. “megan is…”

“the closest you’re ever going to get to danielle marsh,” you burst out laughing. 

“shut up and read your letter.”

you open the envelope and a ticket falls out. today’s date, 7pm, the championship game at your university ice arena. 

y/n. i wrote this by hand and took my time. thank you for everything this semester. i think meeting you was my favorite part of this year. i’m grateful you saw me, the way you really saw me. hope that makes sense. hanging out with you felt like being a book that someone finally took off the shelf and opened up. hope to see you at my big game. i saved you a seat by the box, so you can help me study in between plays.

 – megan

ps. just kidding about the studying thing, don’t you dare bring a book into my sacred space. anyways, thanks again.

“minji, i think i fucked up,” you breathe quietly. how unfair to keep judging megan when this whole time, she’s shown you exactly who she is. was it easier to say megan was this or that in order to soothe your own confused feelings? who did it ultimately hurt in the end? 

“what would belle say?” the girl asks. “go bleed your heart out or whatever.”

you don’t correct her. it’s honestly the perfect advice. 

you check your phone and see the game is at halftime, and they’re down 0-2. the stadium is on the other side of campus, but you remember megan’s words from the party. she doesn’t even try to let herself feel upset the week of a game, and there you are on the night of her team’s championship game, being the worst friend possible to her.

your heart races, then aches. you have to make this right, the sooner the better. you order an uber and pray this is the right call.

you race into the stadium and realize it’s absolutely packed with thousands of people, and thunderously loud. it looks like a professional stadium, even at the college level. the game is tied now, 2-2, but you remember enough of what megan’s told you to recognize that they’ve gone into overtime. next to score wins.

you stumble hurriedly down the steps before you make it to the front row. just as the note said, there’s an open seat directly in front of the player box. you see the flash of ginger hair from under a helmet, hunched over on the bench as she watches the play, clearly nervous. you lock your gaze on her and run up to the plexiglass wall. 

there’s a tiny slot in the glass, usually where the players hand a dead puck or a broken stick through the slot to an eager fan, but you’re too desperate to get a hold of megan that you yell to her through it, hoping she can hear you over all the noise.

“megan!”

she looks around confusedly, before turning around to see you against the glass. 

“y/n?”

“you deserve so much more than an apology, but i can at least start with saying i’m sorry,” you know the confession is terrible timing wise, but you’ll never live with yourself if you don’t get it off your chest, especially on such an important night for megan. “i’ve been so horrible to you, assuming all the worst, and you’ve been nothing but an angel to me. ugh, i just…i feel so stupid, because i know how this ends, and i don’t want to get hurt, but i feel like i’ll regret it if i don’t say something.”

“how this ends?” you see megan’s brows furrow together underneath her face guard. “y/n, i could never even dream of hurting you.”

“you didn’t want to kiss me,” you remind her, but you don’t want it to feel like a guilt trip. “and that’s okay, i just know that changed a lot and-”

“because you were drunk.” she cuts you off, shaking her head quickly, her nose wrinkling as she clamps her eyes shut. “that’s- it’s just- fuck.”

“what?” you ask, but before you can finish, daniela slams into the player box and leans in towards megan.

“kazuha’s getting killed out there. she needs a stronger center out, coach is gonna put you in,” dani yells over the roar of the crowd, reaching over to grab a fast sip of water. she shoots a look at you, then a warning glare at megan to wrap it up. “30 seconds.”

“y/n—“

30 seconds is all you need. you won’t waste your shot. 

“megan, i really like you. as in, really like you.” you feel the hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you finally hear the words out loud. “as in, i think i’m falling for you, which is so scary. i’m sorry for messing up our friendship. these feelings are way too huge for me to push away. knowing you was amazing and i don’t want you thinking for a second that it wasn’t.”

“skiendiel, in for center. push up and get that puck into that damn net!” coach yells, tapping the back of the ginger’s helmet to get her attention. 

megan gives you a look, your confession hanging in the air, before she leaps over the door and back onto the ice. 

she’s so insanely fast. you don’t have to know hockey to know she’s zipping circles around the other team, their yells of frustration loud and clear as megan swipes in to intercept pass after pass. 

she’s so focused. you watch in awe. 

dani is yelling something to which kazuha nods, dropping her shoulders to book it towards megan. megan uses their proximity to take the pass, running the puck once more up the ice. the defense of the other team are playing dirty, a high stick to the eye immediately taking daniela flat down onto the ice. lara calls for a foul from her spot in the goalie’s box, but the ref didn’t see it, so the play goes on at break-neck speed. 

despite the chaos, megan is locked in to what she needs to do. 

she spits the puck back out in a blazing pass back to kazuha, spinning off an incoming check from another player. she eyes the goal for a split moment, the clock trickling down into its final seconds, before kazuha’s pass is already blasting towards her. 

megan shows no hesitation. she checks a defense into the wall before spinning off, stick lifting into the air to take the most perfect shot off kazuha’s pass. 

your breath catches in your throat as the puck seems to suspend in air, everything going in slow motion. then, your eyes meet, in the middle of it all. 

the goal lights up red just as the buzzer hits. the entire stadium erupts into a deafening roar as you watch megan get swarmed by her entire team. final score 3-2. 

they’re cheering as a team, but you see the flash of ginger hair as a helmet comes off and a body starts skating back towards you. you move to the tunnel, where megan comes off the ice and can finally be face to face with you. she’s breathing heavy, stray hairs clinging to her face through the sweat. 

“i didn’t kiss you that night because i wanted it to be perfect.” megan’s still catching her breath, but she seems desperate to clear her name. you feel frozen in front of her, but she presses on earnestly. “i didn’t want it to be another kiss with a random stranger i’d forget about in a week. i’ve spent too much time thinking about kissing you. i didn’t want it to be anything less than perfect for you.”

“i’m crazy about you, y/n,” she gasps breathlessly, arm wrapping around your waist without hesitation. “i like everything about you. i like you so much it scares me.”

“why didn’t you say anything?” is all you can manage, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“are you serious?” megan lets out a high pitched laugh. “look at you. you’re the most brilliant, incredible, hilarious, kind person i know. i didn’t think i stood a chance. i’m nowhere near cool enough or smart enough to think i was good enough to talk to you, let alone getting to be your friend. it was so worth it to just be your friend. i would have been happy with that forever.”

you feel your head spin. megan thinks all this about you?

“i literally asked you to kiss me,” you press, confused about how it could have been misread.

“i didn’t think you were being weird about me being popular. when you cleared that up, my next thought was that you were pitying me, like how you pity-tutored me.” she confesses. “i overthought and it messed me up. i’m sorry.”

“if you don’t just damn kiss already,” lara barks at you guys as the team starts to trickle off the ice and into the tunnel, daniela grinning teasingly right behind her as she ices her eye. you wince at how bad her eye looks following that high stick, but then you realize what she’s teasing you about. 

you look back at megan, those perfect brown eyes searching for something in yours. you can’t possibly understand how someone who just won her team a national championship can still seem so hesitant. 

“may i?” she tilts her head eagerly. 

“oh my god, asking permission after all that.” you groan and wrap your arms around her neck, head reeling from all that’s just unfolded. “megan, you chivalrous loser, i swear to god.”

she grins something so angelic, you choose to forgive her. 

and the kiss she gives you, gentle yet eager, her arms wrapping around your waist to anchor you in place, is so, so perfect. so insanely worth the wait. 

-

you walk into your 11am intro to british literature class that tuesday, door held open for you by your chivalrous loser. 

sophia’s grading papers at the professor’s desk when eyes drop to your hands (your interlaced, holding-hands-with-megan hands) and smiles at you so giddily, you can’t help but smile back at her just as big. she’s never going to let you live this down. 

dani and lara sit in the row directly behind you guys, hooting and making kissy noises to taunt their younger teammate. you won’t admit how much these idiots have grown on you. 

megan’s arm snakes behind your shoulders as she leans back in her seat next to you. her laptop is already out, open to a new document. you’re so insanely proud of her for her determination. 

you’re too busy admiring her to realize you’re staring, and by the time you’re aware, she’s side-eyeing you. 

“eyes on your own paper, cheater.”

“oh my god, class hasn’t even started yet. you literally haven’t even typed anything.”

her fingers quickly hit the keyboard, a few strokes before she turns the computer to face you. 

i <3 my super cool gf

girlfriend. your heart races at the memory of how you made it official over the weekend after being her date to all the celebratory dinners. you smile and type something back. 

i <3 my dorky sweet gf

megan won’t ever let you catch a break. “oh, so you get to be cool and i’m just a dork again?”

“my dork now,” you remind her. 

“you’re on thin ice,” she rolls her eyes. “you’ll have to take me on a date to make up for it.”

she reaches forward to take your hand in hers, letting them dangle between the desks. you give her hand a gentle squeeze. she peers at you from the corner of her eye, scrunches her nose, and re-focuses on the board as the professor sets up his presentation. 

this stupid letterman jacket you’ve always talked shit about is actually kinda warm. at least, you like it a whole lot better when you’re the one wearing it. 

“i like you so much,” you breathe quietly as the lecture begins.

she smiles eagerly, bringing your hand up to plant a kiss along your knuckles. she’s been so open about her affection for you, you feel like you’re in a dream.

“the guy is trying to teach,” she chastizes you, and you roll your eyes at the change in roles. the way she looks at you tells you she has so, so much to say, and your heart pounds as she focuses back on the lecture. your responsible girl. 

she doesn’t leave you hanging, however, adding a final thought.

 “but yeah, ditto.”

[bleulikedaylight]

Teenage Dirtbag

pairing: popular! natasha romanoff x nerd! reader

synopsis: a story about pens that smell like caramel, songs that say more than words, and what it means to be chosen—on purpose.

warnings: brief mentions of emotional insecurity / self-worth issues, bit of angst (with happy ending !!) | wc: 1.3k | genre: fluff with a bit of angst !! >_<

note: this fic is basically what happens when you listen to teenage dirtbag at 2AM and spiral. i wanted to write smth soft, something aching, smth that felt like sitting at the back of a lecture hall, falling in love with someone who doesn’t know you exist—until they do. also, i'm sorry for the angst. this is my apology letter disguised as a fic. i pinky swear there’s comfort after the storm !! <33

“Her name is Noelle, I have a dream about her...”

There she was again.

Crimson hoodie, earbuds in, basketball slung over her shoulder, and the same annoyed-but-stunning expression she always wore at 8:00 AM classes. Natasha Romanoff was early-morning poetry in motion and late-night rock songs in human form. Even when she slouched in her seat or cursed under her breath at a pop quiz, she was effortlessly magnetic. The kind of girl who didn’t need attention to command it. It just followed her.

You, on the other hand?

You were... background noise.

A literature major who wore mismatched socks and oversized sweaters, always arriving late with iced coffee and a dog-eared notebook clutched to your chest. You listened to music two decades too old for your generation and scribbled love poems no one would read. You weren’t trying to look mysterious. You just didn’t know how to be seen.

Except maybe—maybe—by her.

Sometimes.

—

It started with a pen.

You always sat a few rows behind her in History 12—just close enough to notice how she doodled in her notebook margins or tilted her head when she was deep in thought. She was sharp lines and bold strokes. You were ink smudges and unfinished verses.

You never expected her to turn around, let alone speak.

“You got a pen?” she asked, brow arched.

You blinked. “Yeah. Um. Writes in blue, though.”

She clicked it. Sniffed it. “Smells like caramel.”

“Probably because I spilled coffee on it yesterday.”

She snorted. “On brand.”

“For?”

“You. You’re like... chaotic indie playlist energy.”

You stared. “Is that a compliment?”

She smirked. “Kind of. It’s cute.”

You nearly forgot how to breathe.

—

From that moment, the universe refused to let you ignore each other.

She started sitting closer. Not beside you—just diagonally. Close enough to pass sarcastic notes and draw rude little cartoons on your worksheets. You’d catch her smirking when you tried to hide your laugh behind your hand. She called you “emo baby.” You called her “traitor jock.”

One afternoon, you were under a tree, headphones in, blasting Teenage Dirtbag because sometimes your music taste just needed to be that on-the-nose.

“You listening to Wheatus?” came a voice above you.

You looked up, pulling out one earbud. “What—yeah.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t think anyone under thirty still listened to Teenage Dirtbag.”

You deadpanned, “I’m a teenage dirtbag.”

She laughed—genuinely. Not the half-smirk she reserved for professors or the sarcastic chuckle she gave her friends. This one was real, and it made your stomach do a little flip.

“You’re weird,” she said, still smiling.

“I know.”

There was a pause. Then she nodded at your phone. “Didn’t think that was your vibe.”

You raised a brow. “Oh yeah? What's my vibe then?”

She tilted her head, thinking. “I don’t know. Phoebe Bridgers. Or Taylor Swift.”

You shrugged. “Those are for when I want to feel things. Wheatus is for when I want to pretend I’m a misunderstood loser.”

She smiled again—brighter this time.

A beat of silence hung between you. Then—

“Wanna grab coffee?”

You blinked. “Wait. What?”

“I’m already walking that way,” she said, casual as ever. “Don’t make it weird.”

But it was weird.

In the best way.

—

The next few weeks were a blur.

Coffee runs turned into late-night study sessions. Study sessions turned into even later-night walks and sleepy 2AM voice notes. She started showing up at your dorm window with fries and bad jokes. You left poems in her locker. She stole your hoodie and pretended it didn’t smell like you on purpose.

One night, you found a post-it on your desk in her handwriting:

you make the world feel less fake :)

�� N.

You didn’t ask what it meant.

You didn’t have to.

Clint started winking at you at lunch. Wanda pulled you into their friend group with a knowing grin. Steve nodded like you’d just been sworn into some secret society. Even Yelena, Natasha’s terrifying little sister from another university, gave you a subtle nod when she caught you and Natasha sharing fries.

But she also gave you a warning.

“She’s not used to soft people,” Yelena said, arms crossed, voice low. “Don’t make her think softness means weakness.”

“I’m not soft,” you insisted.

“You write poems about her in your Chemistry notebook.”

You looked away. “...That’s slander.”

—

You fell for her gradually.

In the walk between classes. In the way she always picked your fries first. In the way she stared at you like she wanted to memorize your face but didn’t know how to ask.

It wasn’t love. Not yet.

But it was dangerous.

Because you knew how stories like this ended. And you weren’t the main character.

Then came her.

Maria Hill.

Pre-law royalty. Tall, elegant, terrifyingly composed. The kind of girl who made eye contact like a challenge. Rumors said she and Natasha used to date. You didn’t want to believe it—until you saw them.

At a party.

Maria’s arm around Natasha. Natasha laughing. Leaning in close. Too close.

Something in your chest cracked.

—

“Why do you like her?” you asked, voice soft.

Natasha looked at you for a long time. “She gets me. She’s tough.”

You nodded. You didn’t ask who got to see her soft parts. You knew it wasn’t you.

You stood there, invisible.

Then left.

Alone.

—

The silence between you stretched.

No more midnight texts. No more poems. You ghosted her before she could ghost you first. You went back to being the weird kid in the back row—headphones in, walls up, heart aching.

But Natasha noticed.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked, one day after class.

“No,” you lied.

“You’re lying.”

You didn’t answer.

“I miss you.”

You blinked. “I don’t want to be your secret escape anymore.”

She stared. “What?”

“I don’t want to be the weird friend you hang out with when the world’s too much. I want to be the one you choose. Not the one you retreat to.”

She was silent.

So you walked away.

—

The campus felt colder without her.

You threw yourself into org work. Poetry readings. Spent longer in the library just to avoid running into her. But she was everywhere. In the laughter from across the field. In the hoodie you still slept in. In the empty chair beside yours.

Wanda hugged you one day and whispered, “She’s miserable without you, you know.”

You shrugged. “She still chose her.”

“She didn’t choose anyone.”

—

Then came the rain.

One Thursday. Gray sky. Thunder in the distance. You sat under the library canopy, headphones in, Teenage Dirtbag on repeat. You were halfway through zoning out when someone yanked the headphones off your head.

You jumped. “What the—”

Then froze.

Natasha.

Soaked from head to toe. No umbrella. Breathing heavy.

“You weren’t answering,” she said.

You stared. “It’s raining.”

“No shit.”

“You’ll get sick.”

“I don’t care.”

Her voice broke on the last word.

“I like you,” she said. “Not Maria. Not anyone else. You.”

You opened your mouth, but she kept going.

“I suck at this. Feelings. People. But you make me feel like I’m not pretending. And that terrifies me.”

You stepped closer. “You hurt me.”

“I know.”

“I thought I was just something easy for you.”

“You’re the hardest thing I’ve ever wanted.”

She looked at you like she was ready to fall apart.

You kissed her.

In the rain. On campus. With everything watching.

And she kissed you back like she’d been waiting her whole life.

—

That night, she posted a blurry photo of you with the caption:

my teenage dirtbag <3

The group chat exploded.

Now, every time you hear Teenage Dirtbag, you smile.

Because somehow, against all odds, the girl who used to exist in the corners of your daydreams?

She’s here.

And she’s yours.

[fligniuz]

sex for homework

luigi mangione x reader

｡𖦹°‧ you ask your cute tutor to help you study for your math final.

word count: 5.5k • part of my study buddies series (read here!) • nsfw • read on ao3

warnings : f! reader; EXPLICIT; dumbification if U squint; praise; oral (m! receiving); pre calc lol

notes : crossposting my shit to tumblr and starting with arguably one of my greatest uses of free will in history. title frommm:

You have a bit of a dilemma.

Well, it would be more accurate to say that you had a dilemma, have had one for quite a while now—your current grievances are merely extensions of a constant, one raging, blood-thirsty, borderline psychopathic problem of a class. MTH121, Concepts & Applications, is the only remaining mathematics credit required for your degree, and, coincidentally, absolutely no one told you that that’s really just a fancy name for pre-calculus. Because the universe hates you.

Your final is tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. If that wasn’t bad enough, your brain has utterly fucked you; months spent poring over formulas and right triangles amounts to nothing in the moment, every relevant fragment of knowledge completely foreign to your burnt out, sleep deprived, caffeine ridden psyche. So here you sit, “studying”, armed with just your textbook and Khan Academy tutorials.

Is it too late to switch majors? Yes, you decide, massaging your temples as you take another glance at your notes. A mass of numbers, variables, and scribbled matrices clogs the pages, complete with your near ineligible annotations, details added in the heat of a lecture. You never knew there could be so many different types of numbers. Solve for x. 5 + 2x to the 2nd power = 8x. Factor x3 - 3x to the 2nd power - 4x + 12. Find the vertex of the function f(x) = x to the 2nd power + 4x + 3. Determine the value of x if the sum of the following sequence converges to 5. How any of this is relevant to your future non-mathematics degree is beyond you.

What the hell is a vertex again? And what does it matter? You’d rather be sleeping, or drunk. Whatever.

You have one saving grace. Since your freshman year you’ve been employing a little cheat-sheet, your one-way ticket to having math explained to you in a language understood by plebeians like yourself: one Luigi Mangione, a friend of a friend of a friend, possibly the smartest guy you know (and you’re far from the only person to voice that opinion). Your self-appointed tutor—and unfortunately for you, probably the most appetizing of any of the frat guys you’ve met in college, to put it chastely. The actual knowledge is just a bonus, really, because unlike other tutors you’ve worked with Luigi seems to actually care; he wants you to walk away from him with a solid understanding of the material, rather than a temporary knowledge that gets your homework done but is absent from your memory by the time of your exams. And it’s hard to write off the fact that he’s easy on the eyes.

…Pretty damn hard, actually. Because—in all honesty—you’re really into Luigi. Another thing that’s hard to do is get your math homework done when you’re busy fucking yourself with your fingers, like you tend to do after your time with him, thinking about his cock, his hands, the way he would fill you, pin you down underneath him, smirk at you and tell you dirty things like that’s my girl, that’s my good fucking girl, that’s it, give it to me, show me how pretty you look when you come all over me like this…

Great. At this pace, you’ll never get anything done.

Your phone buzzes.

About an hour ago, you sent him a photo of your current predicament: your laptop and notebook open, and you sitting criss-crossed in front of it, an exaggerated pout on your lips. A few moments later, you sent another, this time of your middle finger pointed directly at your professor’s official portrait. Now, he responds:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : Smh

Who studies the night before their final?? Dummy

You smile, replying:

i do :(

help pls :((

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : You poor thing

And then:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : Come over. In like 15

We’ll work it out together

Score. He adds:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : And I better not hear any complaining when I make you actually do the math

Your crush feels elementary, like you’ve got the hots for the nerdy jock on the playground that’s miles out of your league and that every girl on planet Earth is fighting tooth and nail for. You respond:

no promises :P

You pray to your lucky stars that you can study as nonchalantly as humanly possible.

You told him you wouldn’t complain, and you’ve tried, you really have. But dividing radicals is fucking stupid and useless and the more you look at your paper the more these numbers and symbols really start to look all the same to you, just scribbles, meaningless scribbles of made-up concepts that have nothing to do with your career prospects whatsoever. Who gives a flying fuck about solving equations with these weird ass numbers that normal people don’t even use?

You must be thinking out loud, because Luigi laughs next to you on the couch. He is laughing at your frustration. What an emotionally supportive tutor. You groan and thread your fingers through your hair, massaging your temples.

Still smiling just slightly, he starts to gather up your things. “Alright, look, how about we take a break?” He glances over at you, still holding your head in your hands. “Yeah, let’s take a break for a minute.”

He gets up from the couch, disappears into the kitchen for just a moment. Comes back with a glass of orange juice. For you. You try not to think about how pathetic it is that the most romantic gesture a man has done for you in the past three years is bring you juice. Instead you watch him, sipping slowly—no pulp, he knows you so well—and peeking through your eyelashes as he scuttles around his dorm, just the two of you alone together, while he throws some laundry into a basket and absentmindedly closes doors of unoccupied rooms. You have never noticed how defined his calves are before, nor how his curls bounce just slightly when he walks fast or how his shorts sag on his hips just right, just enough for you to get a peek of his V-line and the waistband of his boxers when he raises his arms to stretch—

Nonchalant. Demure. Mindful. You are failing so hard at the one thing you’ve forbidden yourself from doing: staring at him until your eyes are practically burning holes in his clothes and he’s melting into the floor. Not entirely your fault. He should’ve known to dress modestly around you. Around anybody, for that matter.

Luigi comes to sit by you now. As you tuck your hair behind your ears you can feel his arm move to rest along the back of the couch, almost around you, but not quite.

“Hi,” you say, propping your head up on your arm.

He smiles at you. You can’t even look him in the eye. “Did you think more about your radicals?”

“Don’t remind me,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “No. I didn’t.”

“Well, what were you thinking about?”

You swallow the conspiratorial intuition that he has to be fucking with you. Maybe he sees it on your face. Can smell it on you. Something.

“I was trying to think of some things I’d rather be doing,” you offer. “Instead of math.”

Your heart feels three beats faster all of a sudden, and when did he get so close to you? Your thighs are touching, his knee brushing against yours. “And what did you come up with?” he asks.

Oh, fuck. He’s definitely fucking with you. Right? He has that goddamn smirk on his face, that one that makes your insides twist with a feeling reserved only for boys who look at you just like this, like you’re busted, like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking about every second you’ve spent sitting next to him doing algebra. You want to kiss it right off of him.

“Nothing,” you lie, sitting up straight and trying to pretend like you really are interested in your studies. “Here, will you show me how to do it again?”

He calls your name. He doesn’t even have to ask for you to look at him; the tone of his voice and the tilt of his head makes his intentions entirely clear. When your eyes meet his he inches closer, and all you can manage to do is stare at his lips.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands, stern and warm enough to boil.

If he truly knew what he was asking for he wouldn’t be asking at all, you think. Not unless he was prepared for whatever your fervent need has in store for him. Embarrassment feels bright red and prickly on your skin. “I shouldn’t say.”

”But I think you should,” he whispers.

Oh. Oh. All bets are off, now. This has officially progressed from studying to “studying”.

Luigi lets you lead, his hand settling on the small of your back as you come a little closer to kiss him, properly. You hear him giggle before your lips meet; the curve of his smile against you is unmistakable, casting sparks through your body and down your thighs. He tastes like spearmint. You learn quickly that he is a fantastic kisser, and his tongue finds yours with curious excitement when your breathing starts to pick up. Without question, he claims the expanse of you, drinking in your essence, licking, biting. Those irresistible curls demand attention, and so you thread your fingers through his hair, your hand sweeping from behind his ear to the nape of his neck. Luigi shivers under your touch, exhaling softly against you.

When the fingers of his left hand raise to grasp your leg, you stop kissing him only to swing your body over his lap so that you’re straddling him. Luigi breathes in deep then, like his nervous system collectively seizes at the feeling of you so close. To give him room to breathe you stop short of settling all your weight onto him. Lips meeting once more, his hands greet your hips; his touch is warm, and timid, like you’re made of sand, like you might collapse and dissolve into immeasurable particles between his fingers.

He groans into your mouth. Murmurs your name. “This isn’t very productive,” he quips.

“Intellectually, no,” you agree, nails brushing the back of his neck. He has goosebumps. A ghost of a smile dancing on your lips, you slowly lower yourself down onto his lap; there are two layers of clothes between your bare skin but he is impossibly warm against you. “But what about physically?”

Luigi smiles, and fuck, he is too fucking beautiful. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

And so you kiss him again and again and again, your heart doing backflips inside your chest when his big hands glide lower, and lower, thumb toying with the waistband of your skirt, and lower still, until he’s gripping your ass. You can’t help but nuzzle against the growing stiffness underneath you, poking between your thighs—and you definitely can’t help but love the way he grinds back, hips meeting yours with just as much enthusiasm. Fuck. About an hour ago you were working through polynomials and linear equations, and now the dreamiest guy you’ve ever met is hard for you, holding you in his lap. You might as well thank your professor.

When Luigi sucks at your bottom lip for a few euphoric moments, you make the most pathetic sound into his mouth, and he growls, his hands suddenly coming up to grasp your hips and hold them steady. “Was this your plan all along?” he rasps, his lips moving swiftly to the side of your face, your jaw, the junction between your neck and shoulder.

Sharp teeth graze skin and you whimper. “What do you mean?”

“What, now you’re playing coy?” Luigi finds the pulse point in your throat and bites, softly at first, then harder when your fingers curl into the hair at the back of his head. “You didn’t want to study. You called me because you wanted to get fucked, because you knew I’d want to touch you just like this, didn’t you?”

This boy is out of his mind. First he practically eye-fucks you while schooling you about imaginary numbers, and then he “scolds” you like he’s disappointed in your lack of interest in algebra, like he’s mad that you can’t resist him for being so damn gorgeous. That half-hearted meanness in his tone leaves butterflies in your stomach, in no way helped by the feeling of his tongue sliding over your collarbone.

“No,” you mutter. It’s not completely a lie. You really did need his help with the math, which he is really good at…but you can’t deny that you were really hoping you two would end up like this, with him kissing your neck all over until you’re speckled with purple and pink. You don’t even care about the obvious evidence of him on your skin—you want his entire dorm hall to know just how well-acquainted the two of you are by the time he’s done with you. The thought of everyone knowing you’re his makes you weak.

Luigi is kissing you again, slowly and deeply, one hand coming up to cup your breast through your shirt. His touch is too much and not enough simultaneously, your need overwhelming, and your hips are searching desperately for friction, rolling against him eagerly. So much for nonchalance.

He grasps your chin, firm but not at all painful, and flashes you that pretty smile, tutting, “I don’t believe you.”

Your mind is far too preoccupied with thoughts of his touch in other places to try to formulate a witty rebut. You opt instead to kiss him harder and sneak a hand between your bodies, tracing over his chest, down his carefully crafted abdomen, and then over the front of his shorts, groping his hard cock through polyester. Luigi groans into your mouth. He is big, almost intimidating, and imagining him inside of you has your body feeling hot all over.

As you palm the outline of his length through his trousers, his hands make their way underneath your sweater, the sudden warmth of him jolting through your torso. You look up at him through your lashes and he smirks.

“Do you want to sit on it?” he asks you, entirely stoic despite the weight of his words.

You kiss him, still squeezing his cock. “Can I put it in my mouth first?”

Fuck. You have him wrapped around your finger. How could he possibly say no when you ask so sweetly? Luigi is instantly pulling down his shorts for you, the rustle of fabric making your head spin. He’s left in just his boxers and a sweater that you quickly help him shrug off, too. Once you have him undressed, he takes a moment to survey you, your cheeks flushed, eyes lidded, hair tousled from his hands. You feel a surge of confidence now that you have his full attention and so you pull your top up and over your head, smiling when he reaches behind you to help you with your bra. He has it and your skirt off in just a few seconds, leaving your combined clothes to pile up next to the couch.

You shift so that you’re kneeling on the floor in front of him, wearing only your panties, watching him watching you. He is grinning, his cock standing proud, and you know you must be blushing by the way his teeth flash from under the curve of his lips. You feel gooey and hot in the pit of your stomach. Swallowing your shyness, you reach forward to take him in your hand. He’s already sticky at the tip, precum glistening on his slit, and so you begin to stroke him, starting at the head of his dick and spreading slick down his shaft. His cock is probably the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen, at the very least a runner-up for his face: tan and thick, his girth evenly distributed, and big enough to have you feeling your heartbeat between your legs. There is a prominent vein along the underside of him, ending at his frenulum. He pulses with each movement of your hand.

Once he’s as wet as you like, you come closer to tease him with your tongue, licking up the base, tracing his vein, passing over his slit. Luigi groans—“fuuuuuck, baby,”—and threads his fingers into your hair, tugging hard.

“Don’t be a fucking tease,” he rasps. “You asked for this. Show me what that mouth can do.”

Your lips are halfway wrapped around the head of him and when you moan at his words it vibrates through him, his abs flexing deliciously. You move further down, then, mouth closed around his length, applying light pressure on your way back up. He’s too big to take all of him at once and so your left hand grasps the length you can’t reach, pumping gently. You start a subtle, easy rhythm, evenly paced and obviously satisfying enough to have Luigi panting and swearing above you: your mouth starts at his tip, sucking gently, then gliding lower, until you can feel him in the back of your throat and you’re nearly gagging on him—and then you move upward again, cheeks hollowing around him, finally reaching the head of him once more. Rinse and repeat. It is organized. Formulaic. Your process leaves you practically drooling on his cock, spit collecting at the base where you are stroking him. Fuck. You haven’t pleased a guy like this in quite a while, and under any other circumstances you’d probably feel a bit insecure about your work; but it’s difficult to justify any doubts you might have, what with the noises coming from above you:

“Oh, fuck, yes, baby, yes, just like that, fuck yes,” Luigi moans, fingers knotted tightly in your hair. “Oh my god, your mouth…”

You slip your free hand into your panties, middle and ring finger rubbing your clit.

As your ministrations intensify, his reactions do, too. You can feel his thighs and hips tensing in an effort not to fuck into your throat. But you made a promise to yourself; you want to take the entirety of his length in your mouth before all of this is over, and so you move your left hand down to his balls, kneading him and carefully lowering your face until your nose is pressed into the curly hairs of his groin, his cock as deep as it can reach. And Luigi keens, head thrown back against the couch, one hand in your hair and the other gripping the armrest tight. You can feel him twitching in your throat.

There are a few blissful moments of you sucking him just like this, sinking him deep into your throat and pinching your lips around his tip, and you almost wish the two of you were recording because the sounds he makes are top tier jerk material for at least the next few months. He’d be a natural on camera. You want to commit every second of this to your memory.

When he goes quiet for a moment you open your eyes to look at him. You find him staring down at you, mouth agape. “Are you touching yourself?” he asks.

It’s difficult to answer with his dick in your mouth, so you settle for moaning around him again, eyes fluttering shut.

“Holy fuck,” he grunts, his voice sweeter than sugar.

You could sit here sucking him off for the rest of your life—you could die with his dick in your mouth—but you regrettably begin to feel your jaw aching, knowing full well that keeping this up will have you hurting. Not that you really mind. When you begin to sputter and tear up around him, he grabs both sides of your face and pulls your mouth off of his cock. You are crying, just a little, crocodile tears streaming down your cheeks, your throat raw.

Luigi looks down at you sweetly. “Oh, baby,” he coos, wiping your wet face dry with his thumbs. “That’s my perfect girl. So good to me. Come here.”

He welcomes you back onto his lap with open arms and a smile. He is warm, so warm and soft against you, you could fall asleep just like this. But he is kissing you now, so slowly that you feel dizzy, and so you ground yourself, fingers embracing his curls. His hands move to your hips, grasping the waistband of your panties, teasing you, rubbing the fabric against your heat. When he finally has them off his fingers are instantly examining you, collecting your slick, slipping through your folds.

“Let’s see about a little reward for you, hm?” he whispers, capturing your lips with his.

You kiss him eagerly and arch your back so that your thighs spread wide enough for his fingers to enter you with ease—not that it would be difficult without, considering that you’re so wet you can hear him touching you, even over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. Two long digits move inside of you, stretching you, massaging that spot that makes your knees buckle and your eyes cross, plus a few more that you never knew existed. His touch feels so good, just how you imagined, and you have to lean forward into the crook of his neck to keep yourself upright, your teeth sinking into a firm shoulder. Luigi makes a gruff sound, almost a chuckle, and his cock jumps at your whiny, choked noises when he adds a third finger into your pussy.

“So needy, aren’t you?” he teases. “Have you been thinking about this, gorgeous? About sucking my cock and taking my fingers like this?”

You nod, because of course you have. In that exact order. Who wouldn’t?

Luigi smiles at you, soft and adoring. You make a curious sound and his fingers depart from you, lingering at your entrance until you grind down into his lap. Your cunt brushes against him, raw, hungry, slathering his cock with your slick.

“I want you,” you whine, grabbing his face and kissing him again. “I want all of you.”

“Yeah, baby?” His hands are guiding your hips, moving you slowly against him. “Tell me about it.”

Well, you would, if your brain weren’t short-circuiting at the moment. His fault. You mumble into his ear, something about infinity, something about the way you hug your pillow at night and all the times you’ve fucked yourself stupid thinking about this very image of you and him together like this. But there are countless words for your endless feelings, words you would preach to him from high places if your body had the agency to; your attraction to him is primal, but neatly arranged, layered, wrapped up with variables galore and multiplying with each moment you spend in his presence. A mess, no doubt about it, but one you can control, a tangle to unravel, an equation to solve. Nothing less. You aren’t sure of how this ends but you know that you need him, bad, more than you knew was possible before.

You crash into him, mouths colliding, everything that you left unsaid spilling into your embrace. Words are hard. Kissing Luigi and grinding your warm, throbbing cunt against him takes much less brainpower.

He is speaking to you when you pull away: “Baby, just a second, wait right here, let me get something.” Gently you are pushed from his lap and he disappears into his room momentarily, leaving you waiting, alone, aching for him, until he rounds the corner again with a familiar foil packet, finding his way back to the couch and sweeping you on top of him once more.

“Hi. Sorry.” And now he is fully yours.

You whine and wiggle against him the second the condom is on.

“Shh,” Luigi whispers, “I got you, ‘s okay, gorgeous. Gonna take good care of you, yeah? Don’t you worry. Gonna give you just what you need, baby.”

The tip of his cock is pressing into you, then, slowly easing himself inside, and fuck, he fits just right, fills you up perfectly, has you seeing stars already. The sound you make when he bottoms out is a hop, skip, and a jump away from pornographic. Luigi purrs underneath you.

“Oh, I know, baby, I know.” His hand slides down to grip your ass, spreading you, and from this angle you can feel just how much he stretches you out. And then, as he begins to roll his hips: “My sweet girl, working so hard, can’t even think for yourself, can you, beautiful? That’s okay, baby. I can do all the thinking for you, you just sit back and let me work it out for you, yeah? Don’t think. Just let me please this pussy.”

It’s like he’s trying to kill you. Every single word he says into your ear shoots straight to your cunt, the mere sound of his voice so near you electrifying. He’s deep, and with your thighs spread wide like this you just have to take advantage of the perfect angle to rub your clit against him. You can’t help but squeal into the crook of his neck each time his hips ram up into you, thighs clapping against your ass; by the way his muscles tense you assume it must take much of his energy, and yet he pounds you like you weigh nothing in his lap, exerting himself like it’s a cakewalk so long as he can watch your face shrivel up with overwhelming delectation. You can tell that he loves it when you tug his hair or bite him, and so you do it every chance you get, just in case your hushed utterances in his ear fail to make your message clear enough:

“Luigi, fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, oh, fuck…”

As he paces himself Luigi wraps his strong arms around you, one caging your waist and the other pulling tight at your hair. Your neck is arched and exposed, leaving him free to smother his love all over you in sharp, uneven hickeys. You needed this, so, so bad, and you tell him exactly that, chanting thank you, thank you, thank you and holding him tight.

“Whatever you want,” he whispers. “You can have whatever you want with me. Anything.” His lips meet yours, fleeting, and then, with the slightest hint of a grin: “You earned this, baby.”

You groan directly into his ear. It’s straight from your dreams, you think, like you’ve been swept from your bed in the midst of the night and dropped right here, in the lap of the sweetest, smartest, most handsome boy you’ve ever so much as looked at, bouncing on his cock while he kisses you like you’ll float away if he lets go. The two of you work together to heighten each other’s inevitable undoing, like a function of sorts; Luigi pushes and you push back, meeting his hips every time, your clit brushing against him just right, and him breaching unknown depths of you, hands roaming, learning you inside and out.

“My sweet girl,” he grabs your face and rests his forehead against yours, driving into you with precision. “This is all yours, baby.”

Sweat starts to gather at his hairline and you can feel him shuddering in your arms. Kissing him, you press down on his toned chest, pinning him against the couch, and Luigi is practically singing for you, little grunts and babys and murmurs of your name traveling through your ears and echoing in your mind. You want this to last forever. His hips slow to a stop when you begin to move on your own; you raise yourself up, resting all your weight on your knees, with him sliding out of your cunt until just the tip is still inside—and then you drop down, letting him sink back into you quickly, slick and smooth, his cock so deep you can nearly feel it in your stomach.

Fuck. You love this. You love the way his hands grip your ass, your thighs, rubbing your back, moaning your name and kissing behind your ear. You love the way he looks at you. The pupils of those dark eyes are blown wide, watching you move, worshipping how your tits bounce, the gyration of your hips, the blush of arousal all over you, your bottom lip wedged between your teeth. The sounds of sex and the shameless way he takes in every feature of your body have you feeling hot and ready to burst. You moan his name, drawn out and raspy.

“Yes,” Luigi groans. “You’re so pretty on top of me.”

Even through the haze of your pleasure you smile at his praise. He is telling you everything, every single thought that passes by in his mind, as if there will be no proof of how good he fucked you once you leave his dorm, as if every word will dissipate into thin air and leave you waiting, unsatisfied, hanging on the edge: “You take it so well, baby, my sweet girl, so perfect, so perfect just for me.”

His big hands are all over you. One cups your breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth, with the other splayed over your hip. You start to feel dizzy, anxious for his attention, a little bit crazy. Close. Luigi must notice the way your eyes screw shut and your pussy squeezes him tight, because his hand moves down your chest, over your stomach, and then to your clit, circling his fingers with purpose. He wishes—almost—that you were beneath him, so that he could replace his hand with his mouth, trace down your body with his lips and bring you to your very edge with his tongue, over and over again, until you’re begging him to stop.

He settles instead for kissing you, hard, slowly, lingering. “You have no fucking idea how bad I’ve been wanting this, baby.”

You nod, moaning, “yes, yes, me too,” your noises pained and rough in your throat.

The way his cock slams into you with each movement of your hips is ruthless, bruising; he’s kissing you so sweetly and you can feel your climax churning in your abdomen, rippling through you. It knocks the air from your lungs. Sex with him hurts so good. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

“Gonna come,” you huff. There are fingernail-sized dents in his skin. “Gonna come for you.”

Luigi nods, whispers, “good girl, such a good girl,” and circles his fingers over your clit as fast as he can manage.

You tense around him at that. You can’t even count how many times you’ve come imagining those very words whispered in your ear by the very man that you’re riding right now.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Yeah? You like that? You like being a good girl for me?”

You nod wildly, and everything feels so real all of a sudden, like you’ve been floating mindlessly in space and you are crashing down into reality. His teeth dig into the sensitive skin of your neck and his hips start to pump again and by the time he’s meeting your thrusts you’ve had enough, thighs shaking, and he starts moaning into your ear so that you know he’s right there with you, and fuck, he’s really trying to kill you—

Your orgasm hits you like a truck. A 5’11, dark haired and brown eyed muscle truck that looks at you like you are the only good thing left in the world.

For a moment there is only your deep panting and his equally spent breaths as the both of you rest, his hand tracing gentle patterns on your back, yours combing through his sweat-soaked curls. The dorm is quiet, calm, almost with an air of innocence, completely unswayed by the heady aftermath of what the two of you just did right there on the couch. You lean back and look into his eyes, brooding and trained entirely on you. And he has that stupid grin on his face, the one that gives both of you away for good, the one that screams we’re not the only ones who know what we’ve been up to.

You want to kiss it right off of his beautiful, beautiful face. But right now you just sigh, lean into his shoulder, and let him hold you tight. Tonight you will walk back to your dorm, all the way on the other side of campus, where your roommates will be waiting for you, likely getting ready for bed. You will walk inside and they will watch you without a clue as to whose hands have been on you, whose name has been on your lips, whose cock has been buried to the hilt inside of you for the past hour. Your legs will be aching—you are sure of it.

Your roommates will ask you, “how’d it go?”, completely unaware of what your wobbly smile really means, how you really spent your time with your cute tutor.

And you will respond, “oh, great,” with a barely masked giggle. “I’m gonna ace my test tomorrow.”

^ dividers by cafekitsune

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 07

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 12 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

If someone told you a few weeks ago that you would spend hours in the library, studying in comfortable silence with the resident hockey star, you would have laughed at them and told them they were crazy. But here you are, on a Wednesday afternoon, sitting across from Sukuna at a small table in the library, surrounded by your classic literature books and Sukuna's history books, studying together as if it is the most natural thing ever.

Sukuna bumped into you this morning, Grinning at you and telling you to meet him after class so you could have lunch together. And considering your little fuckbuddies arrangement and how close the two of you got through it, you found yourself raising a teasing eyebrow at him and asking in a flirty voice,

"And how do you know our classes end at the same time? Be honest, Sukuna. Are you following me around?"

And he smirked that equally teasing smirk at you,

"There's no need for that, princess. I don't need to stalk you like some fucking creep. I know we both have classes in this wing on Wednesdays, and I know both our classes end at 11:30. It's not following around. It's called having a brain. Also, I wouldn't be where I am in life if I didn't plan ahead. Remember this: I am always in control. I always plan things."

"So, what is your plan with me?"

A smug smirk spread over Sukuna's face, and he leaned down, cupping your chin,

"Take you to lunch and then to the library since I know we both have no classes after lunch, and I have to study history, and you have to study literature. So we are going to spend the afternoon sharing a table at the library."

With that, he had left for his class, making you stand there grinning and looking after him, gaze trailing down Sukuna's deliciously v-shaped body, from his broad shoulders down to his narrow hips and that firm ass in his tight black jeans.

And now you sit in the library across from him, and you have to admit that Sukuna is a surprisingly nice study partner. He is very focused on his work. You watch him from time to time, watch how completely immersed he is in the things he is researching. The way his tattooed face scrunches up at times and the way his lips twitch when he finds something that amuses him. You realize one thing: The popular star player is a little nerd when it comes to the things he's interested in. Be it hockey, working out, or history.

You feel low-key bad for assuming Sukuna was the typical dumb jock who only cares about his sports. The truth is, he is actually at the top of all his classes. And it's not just because Sukuna got lucky and has the brains to get top grades without having to study. While Sukuna is naturally smart, he isn't someone who relies only on his talents. The resident star player isn't lazy. He works hard for his success. On the ice and in his classes.

You know how often Sukuna goes to the gym to work out and that he gets up at ungodly hours each morning to go for a morning run, no matter how shitty the weather is. He also analyzes the games of his opponents and works out tactics to win against them. Always planning everything, always making sure he is a step ahead.

And apparently, Sukuna shows the same ambition and dedication when it comes to studying. He is sitting here in the library, surrounded by old books, making color-coded notes and even occasionally putting on a pair of reading glasses so he can decipher the small fonts in his books. Sukuna is organized, disciplined, and hardworking. He is intelligent and ambitious but also very passionate about the things he enjoys. Driven by the desire to be the best, but also truly devoted. It is something you respect. And it is also sexy as hell.

You smile to yourself as you look up from your book and watch Sukuna tapping a tattooed finger on a passage in his history book as if he fully agrees with what is being said there. You think that most people who see him on campus or on the ice don't know that Sukuna is an intelligent nerd hiding in the body of a dumb jock and behind the appearance of a bad boy who likes to pretend he doesn't give a fuck.

Maybe Sukuna is good at hiding his true nature from everyone else but not from you. Your smile grows bigger, realizing that you can read Sukuna like a book. Analyzing him is like analyzing the characters in the novels you read. And Sukuna is such a lovely, complex character. Maybe you should use him as your muse for the next short story you write?

Suddenly, maroon eyes look up from the book they were studying and instead look deeply into yours.

"What happened to studying, Miss? I know I'm more interesting than your books, but if you want to get a good grade for your assignment, you better look into one of those books before you instead of just staring at me."

Sukuna's smirk is downright rude with how smug it is, and you huff loudly, rolling your eyes, about to complain, but you get distracted by Sukuna placing a large lunch box in the middle of the table and opening it to reveal a delicious-looking homemade banana bread. Wordlessly, he pushes the box toward you, and you sigh softly and take a slice of the banana bread that tastes just as good as it looks.

Sukuna's eyes are on you as you chew, and when you tell him it tastes delicious, a small smile plays around his lips that looks so genuinely happy and proud that it makes your chest feel strangely warm.

It's Saturday, and you are where you always are now when the Tigers have a home game: In the hockey arena, watching Sukuna being the King of the Ice who is turning the whole arena into his personal throne room.

You can't help but bite your lip when you watch Sukuna skating/running over the ice with the puck securely under his control, eyes focused on the goal ahead, not letting anyone stop him, making the rival players who try to get in his way, drop to the floor after several brutal body checks from The King of Curses. He looks so cool when he slams his opponents into the boards, a smirk flashing behind his face cage, maroon eyes alight with that mad, happy glint he always gets when he is on a victory streak.

And those eyes find you in the stands again, locking the two of you in an intense gaze while you grin matching grins at each other. The whole arena is chanting Sukuna's name, but his eyes are only on you. The star player and his lucky charm.

It leaves you feeling light-headed, adrenaline sizzling through your veins not just because of the high-speed game and the loud, euphoric mood in the arena but also because of your little interaction with Sukuna.

You see images flash in your mind of you and him lying naked in his bed last night. The way Sukuna was on top of you, looking so gorgeous with his biceps flexed from bracing himself on the bed while fucking you in missionary, almost as if he was using it as a workout, doing pushups on top of you.

And you were admiring the sight and moaning softly while letting Sukuna fuck you with those lazy, slow strokes while he told you about the tactics he worked out for today's game. Until his thrusts became erratic, and instead of ice hockey tactics, all that came out of his mouth were those sexy low groans and raspy breaths.

After the game, you walk down the stairs that lead to the plexiglass surrounding the rink, already seeing Sukuna skate over with his helmet under his arm, running a large hand through his sweaty pink hair, a big proud grin on his face. You grin, too, as you stop in front of the plexiglass to congratulate him, and Sukuna winks at you,

"Thanks for the good luck, princess. See, I told you my new pre-game routine is great."

You feel your face become hot, knowing full well that you are the pre-game routine he's talking about. Or, more precisely: Sukuna fucking you as stress relief while rehearsing his tactics. But you cover up how flustered you are by laughing and winking at Sukuna, too,

"It's always a pleasure to help."

You spend more time over at Sukuna's dorm, and it's not all that awkward anymore when you walk out of his room and run into Yuuji.

Maybe it's because Yuuji is naturally someone who is really nice and makes you feel very at ease around him, or it is because spending so much time with Sukuna has made you become more shameless and more confident. Either way, you just smile and greet Yuuji when you see him sitting on the couch in the living area, controller in hand, playing Mario Kart. And he smiles his big sunshine smile and waves you over,

"Hey, do you wanna play a few rounds with me?"

You smile and nod, joining him on the couch and taking the second controller he hands you.

Maybe you should feel embarrassed because Yuuji's twin brother just fucked you doggy style on his bed a few minutes ago, making you sob into his pillow with how good the dick was, and you are pretty sure you still smell like sex, and Sukuna's cologne, but you cannot bring yourself to care. It's too comfortable here on the couch, and Yuuji is so welcoming and uncomplicated. Somehow, you like that Sukuna's brother treats you like this, as if you belong in this dorm, too. As if you are Sukuna's girl.

Your breath hitches at the thought, but you get over it a second later when a red turtle shell hits your kart and makes you scream loudly while Yuuji laughs.

Sukuna strolls past the couch, ruffling first his brother's and then your hair, making both of you complain and swat at his hand, but he just laughs that low laugh and casually strolls into the kitchen area.

Your gaze strays to Sukuna's tall, buff body for a few seconds. He is only wearing grey sweatpants, sitting so low that you can see the elastic band of his black boxer briefs. You are so distracted that you crash your kart into a fence, quickly scrambling to get back into the race.

"Hey, princess, you staying for dinner?"

You blink and gaze once again at the pink-haired boy in the open kitchen. Sukuna is grinning lazily at you, holding a pan and a spatula in his hands. You raise an eyebrow,

"Do you mean you are going to cook something?"

"Yeah, is that so surprising?"

"Well, yeah... I assumed you only eat your protein stuff and cooked chicken. I am not staying for that. I can eat a real meal at home."

"Oh, shut up. You will sit your pretty ass on my kitchen chair and eat the fucking food I cooked, and you will love it."

To your surprise, Sukuna can actually cook. Really well, too. You nod when he asks you if the princess would like a second helping. And you see the genuine, proud smile on his tattooed face when you praise his cooking skills. It's actually cute how happy Sukuna seems when he sees you enjoying the food he cooked.

And you have to admit to yourself that having dinner together with Sukuna and his brother makes you feel even more at ease spending time in their dorm outside of having sex with Sukuna.

The first time you tell Sukuna to come over to your dorm is on a Tuesday evening when you know Nobara has plans with Maki, which will keep her out of the apartment for several hours.

Sukuna 🏒👑: What are you doing tonight, princess?

You: Nothing, really. Wanna come over?

Sukuna 🏒👑: Bet. See you after my workout.

You aren't even nervous anymore at the prospect of the hockey star coming over. You just feel this very nice and excited buzz at the thought that in an hour, you will have sex with Sukuna.

It feels so natural. So uncomplicated. You just hop quickly into the shower and afterward don't even bother picking a nice outfit, but just slip into a random pair of fresh panties and socks and grab the comfiest clothing item you own, Sukuna's white hoodie.

When Sukuna knocks on your door twenty minutes later, you open the door, wearing only your panties and his hoodie, and smile up at him with a breathless chuckle.

"Hey, Kuna. How was your workout?"

But Sukuna doesn't reply but stops in the open doorway, staring at you with wide maroon eyes. You wonder if it was the nickname you unintentionally used that caused this reaction. It makes your lips lift in an even broader smile, your pulse sizzling with a strange kind of power. For the first time since you started to interact with Sukuna, you feel like you have the upper hand.

Sukuna's maroon eyes trail hungrily over your body. Over your naked legs and his white Tigers hoodie. A moment later, he is on you, banging the door shut behind him as he drops his sports bag and grabs your waist, picking you up and slamming you against the wall, silencing your surprised squeal with his lips in a hungry, demanding kiss, that makes your head spin.

You giggle into the kiss as your hand caresses Sukuna's neck, fingertips running over the short stubble of his undercut, and Sukuna makes that sexy noise in the back of his throat again, that little growl that makes your fingers grab his soft pink hair and pull him even closer, opening your mouth further to let him lick your tongue with those deep, sexy caresses.

Sukuna carries you to your bedroom, throwing you on your bed, where you land with a breathless chuckle that turns into a soft moan when Sukuna joins you on the bed, his large hands pulling your panties down impatiently while his soft lips trail wet, open-mouthed kisses down your legs.

Sukuna yanks off his shirt, followed by his sweatpants and boxer briefs, making you lick your lips when you see his gorgeous hard cock slap heavily against his firm abs. So hard for you, so ready to fuck you into bliss.

Your hands wander to the hem of the hoodie, but Sukuna shakes his head, maroon eyes boring deeply into yours,

"Leave it on."

And so your little fantasy that you had when you first got Sukuna's hoodie becomes real. You are on your bed, straddling Sukuna's lap, only wearing his hoodie and nothing else, your wet pussy rubbing over his hot hard cock, gasping anytime his thick mushroom head catches on your clit. And Sukuna is beneath you, cursing and groaning, his large hands slipping under the hoodie to hold your waist, his eyes heavy-lidded as he watches you.

"Yeah, princess, like that. Slick my cock up. Make it all wet and messy so I can fuck you real nice."

He flips you over after a while, pushing your thighs apart, revealing your pussy to his hungry gaze, moaning while he fists his cock and pumps it a few times while his thumb brushes over your clit, circling it slowly, making you whine loudly, babbling about how much you want his cock.

And Sukuna grabs your hips and pulls you towards him, pushing into you with a hard, deep thrust that makes both of you gasp loudly. He doesn't waste a second but humps against you, fucking you at a hard deep pace. You feel delirious when Sukuna's calloused hands trail over your legs, putting them on his shoulders, and you suddenly can feel him even deeper in you.

It draws a loud, shaky sob from your lips as you cling to Sukuna's arms, digging your nails into his bulging biceps as he fucks you with those deep strokes that make your legs dangle from his broad shoulders in rhythm with his hard thrusts.

The hoodie rides up during the hard fuck, and you see Sukuna looking down, watching his slicked-up cock push in and out of your creamy pussy, and it makes you clench around him, so turned on by his gaze.

Sukuna is so sexy, all buff muscles which flex with every roll of his hips, sweat glistening on his tattooed skin, low grunts falling from his lips as he fucks you so deep and so good, making you think you might be addicted to his dick.

You breathe out his name, "Kuna...", your hands squeezing his biceps as you get pushed into the mattress rhythmically, gasping anytime Sukuna's thick mushroom head caresses your g-spot, sending you closer and closer to the edge, each deep stroke making a fluttery sensation fill your belly.

You mewl loudly when you cum around Sukuna's cock, your heels digging into his broad, muscular back, your pussy tightening so much around him that he hisses loudly.

And Sukuna fucks you even harder, chasing his own orgasm. He yanks on the hoodie, pushing it up to reveal your tits to him, watching as they bounce wildly with how hard he is fucking you.

He pulls out just in time for his orgasm, letting his hot cum rain down on your tits and your belly, and your pulsing clit while a series of sexy low groans falls from his lips.

You look at Sukuna in awe. How he kneels between your legs, so sexy and big, his twitching cock still in his hand, his eyes wandering hungrily over your body with the hoodie pushed up to reveal your skin covered in Sukuna's thick milky seed. And you can't help but moan, feeling so sexy like this, so desired, tits covered in Sukuna's cum, pussy still pulsing hotly from the mind-boggling orgasm Sukuna fucked out of you.

You smile dazedly up at Sukuna, barely holding yourself back from telling him that you think his dick is your favorite thing in the world, and he grins down at you with that charming smirk,

"You look so fucking good in my hoodie. I should get you more team merch, princess."

Sukuna seems to feel at home at your dorm, too, much to Nobara's dismay. You watch with growing amusement how she and Sukuna interact with each other. Always just waiting to say something rude to the other while their eyes glow with devilish fun.

Sukuna shamelessly struts out of your room, only wearing his low-sitting grey sweatpants and no shirt, his neck adorned with your lipstick marks, and his broad back full of the scratches your fingernails left there. He strolls casually into your kitchen, yanking open the fridge and getting some milk as if he lives here.

You lean in your open door, wearing his hoodie, watching him with a dazed smile on your face while Nobara casts a scandalized look at Sukuna's bare chest and the milk carton he brings provocatively to his lips, drinking straight out of the carton before he smirks his typical rude smirk at your dormmate,

"Hey, Ginger. Got a problem?"

"Hey, Kirby. Yeah, I think you should wear a shirt, and I hope you know that you have to pay for that milk!"

Sukuna laughs and walks past her, the milk container firmly in his tattooed hand, tilting his head back to gulp down even more of the milk. And Nobara's eyes widen comically as she sees Sukuna's broad back with all the scratch marks your fingernails left on it.

"Are the two of you animals or what?"

But you see the grin tugging at her lips. This is exactly the type of stuff your dormmate enjoys, and you burst out laughing at her comment, which turns into a giddy squeal when Sukuna picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you back into your room while he smirks at Nobara holding up the milk container in his hand to wave mockingly with it, while his other hand sprawls over your ass.

"Thanks for the milk. Now I have the strength for another round. You better wear some headphones if the noise bothers you. I know we will be loud."

You whine his name, begging him to stop embarrassing you, but you can't stop the laughter from creeping into your voice. And Sukuna just gives your ass a squeeze and grins and cocks his head,

"You trying to shut me up, princess? There's a better way to do that. Give my mouth something other to do."

And his mouth is really busy doing something other a few minutes later when he has you on your bed with your thighs pushed apart by those strong tattooed hands while Sukuna kneels on the floor between your legs, his face buried between your thighs, his lips and tongue pampering your pussy while his nose pushes against your clit.

He's making out loudly with your pussy, leaving loud smacking kisses on your puffy clit, and writing his name on it with his tongue. And you gasp and whimper and tug on Sukuna's pink hair as your hips buck in helpless pleasure, every thought of your dormmate erased from your pleasure-clouded mind.

"I can't ice skate. I never tried it."

You didn't think it was possible, but Sukuna seems to be rendered speechless upon your little confession during lunch. His hand, which was about to bring his usual cooked chicken to his mouth, stops in midair, and he stares at you with wide eyes as if you told him you don't know how to read.

"How can you never have been ice skating? What the fuck, princess?"

You laugh and shrug,

"I don't know. My town didn't have an ice skating arena, and none of my friends ever went ice skating, so...."

"That's absolutely ridiculous and unacceptable."

"Why? I think a lot of people never..."

You can't even finish the sentence before Sukuna interjects,

"I will teach you."

"What? Um, no, I... I am really unathletic and everything. I will probably be terrible at it."

"That's why you get me as your personal coach. You can learn from the best. Come to the arena at 7:00 tonight. I can teach you after training. Feel special. You'll get a private lesson from the Ice King."

Sukuna winks playfully at you, and even though you already feel your face get hot at the thought of how much you will probably embarrass yourself, you can't help but smile.

You enter the arena half an hour before your private lesson, sitting on the row directly behind the player's bench to watch the ice hockey team's practice while your pulse flutters more nervously with each passing minute. The ice looks intimidating. Hard and cold and unforgiving if you slip and fall.

When you look at Sukuna, who is currently speeding from one side of the rink to the next, it looks easy, of course. But you don't even want to think about how you will fare.

The coach claps his hands and announces the training is over, and the Tigers pile out of the rink, grabbing their stuff from the bench and leaving for the locker room without paying much notice to you. Yuuji and Todo pass you with big grins and reach out to high-five you, not even questioning why you are here during their practice.

And then Sukuna stops before you. Your heart jumps to your throat as you lift your head to look up at him.

He is so tall and broad in his hockey attire, with that smug smirk on his tattooed face. He extends a large hand to you, and you sigh and take it, letting him pull you to your feet, where you wobble immediately on the ice skates you are wearing. You gasp and tighten your hold on Sukuna's hand, clinging to him and exclaiming,

"Oh shit! Maybe we should call it a day. I will just make a fool of myself or break a leg or something!"

But Sukuna just laughs that amused, low laugh and his strong arm reaches around your waist, steadying you. He cocks his head and smirks at you,

"Come on, princess, do you really think I would let you fall? Haven't I already proved on our very first encounter that I am very good at catching you?"

His smirk grows even bigger, even more charming, and he winks at you, making your stomach feel a bit too fluttery, and you can't tell anymore if it is really just from the anxiety of standing on ice skates for the first time in your life, or if it has something to do with that boyish smirk on the star player's face.

But you feel safer now that Sukuna is holding you. Sukuna's grip on you is reassuringly strong as he slowly leads you toward the ice. He lets you hold on tightly to him without complaining, even as your nails dig painfully into his skin. His strong arm steadies you, keeping you safely on your feet.

You reach the ice, and your pulse flutters. Sukuna lets go of you after he makes sure you are holding onto the boards. He steps on the ice casually as if he is just walking on regular ground. It looks so natural when he does it.

And then Sukuna turns around to grin at you, extending his large hand again, letting you take it into your smaller hand,

"Come here, princess. I'll catch you."

Without further warning, Sukuna tugs on your hand, pulling you onto the ice. You register what is about to happen, and you start complaining nervously, but your feet are already taking a step forward. And then you are on the ice, screeching embarrassingly loud when you feel your feet slip away from under you.

But you never land on the cold ice. Instead, you get pulled forward and slam into Sukuna's tall, broad body. Your face presses lightly against his chest, feeling his firm muscles and the soft material of his hockey jersey, inhaling his fresh and sexy scent laced with a tiny hint of sweat from his earlier training session. It smells enticing and reassuring somehow.

Your hand that's holding Sukuna's is clinging to him in a death grip while the other is grabbing his jersey tightly. You tilt your head back to look up at Sukuna's face, seeing his broad, amused smirk that immediately makes you roll your eyes and huff,

"Stop being so smug! I told you this is my first time!"

But Sukuna just laughs softly, and his other hand lands on your hip, gently pushing you a little bit to the back so you have to stand without leaning on him.

"Don't worry. I'll teach you how to ice skate if it is the last thing I do. Look at you, already being able to stand on the ice all by yourself!"

"But I am not.."

You start to say when Sukuna lets go of you for a moment, and you stare at him with wide eyes as you realize you are standing on the ice. A strangled laugh escapes your lips, but then you become too aware of the slippery ice beneath your feet, and you feel yourself slipping,

But Sukuna is there before anything can happen. He laughs and scoops you up into his strong arms, holding you princess-style.

"Come on, princess. I'll let you get a taste of how it feels to be on the ice."

He begins to skate across the rink with you in his arms, carrying you easily as if you weigh nothing. You laugh and wrap your hands around Sukuna's neck, your stomach tingling from the way he is skating across the ice with those fast, confident moves.

Sukuna does one lap around the rink with you in his arms before he carefully sets you down again. But his large hands hold yours securely, making sure you won't fall. He looks deeply into your eyes with his maroon eyes, which are so warm in this cold ice palace. And his lips lift in a little smile,

"Wanna give it a try now, too, princess? I will show you how. I promise I won't let go of you."

Sukuna is smiling so charmingly at you, and his low voice is so calm and serious, his hold on you reassuring and secure, and you realize that you trust Sukuna fully. You trust this scary-looking bad boy not to let you fall. You smile at him and nod softly,

"Ok. Show me, please."

You know that Sukuna is usually infamous for being a menace who scares the shit out of his opponents. A real devil on the ice.

But not tonight. Not when he is ice skating with you.

Sukuna is an amazing teacher. He is patient with you, never getting annoyed at your clumsiness. Instead, his large hand is holding yours safely, and his strong arm is wrapped around your waist, steadying you. His low voice in your ear encourages you. Praising you for every little thing you do. And you can't stop a stupid little smile from spreading over your face as you slowly glide over the ice at Sukuna's side.

"Don't be so tense, princess. Just lean on me. I got you, don't be scared. I won't let you fall. Trust me."

And you do trust him. You let out a breath and relax in Sukuna's strong arms, letting him take control. Letting him pick up speed while guiding you safely across the cold ice.

Sukuna skates with you all the way through the arena. Just the two of you on the ice while the arena sits in darkness and only the rink is illuminated. It could almost be romantic. You feel safe on his arm, weightless as you glide over the ice. It's an incredible feeling as if you are soaring through the air. The ice glitters prettily like a million diamonds. And Sukuna's hand on the small of your back radiates warmth even through your jacket.

You feel so safe in Sukuna's arms. And it's actually fun to skate across the ice, to feel the chilly air on your heated cheeks, to hear your own delighted laughter mingle with Sukuna's.

You are a bit out of breath when Sukuna digs the blades of his ice skates into the ice, bringing the two of you to a stop in front of the benches, grinning at you with such a genuinely happy expression on his tattooed face that it makes your heart clench and reach up to cup his cheek.

"Thank you, Kuna. That was really fun."

You gaze into each other's eyes for a long moment. Time seems to stand still. And then you are suddenly kissing.

You can't tell who initiated it, whether you were the first who let herself fall against Sukuna to get on your tiptoes to reach his lips or whether it was him who tightened his hold around your smaller body and pulled you against him. But suddenly, your lips are moving against each other in a slow, gentle kiss.

A kiss that doesn't lead to sex. A kiss that isn't born out of the heated desire to rip each other's clothes off. A slow, tender kiss that makes your head turn to mush and makes butterflies dance in your stomach when Sukuna pulls you even closer against his firm, tall body.

When you pull away, you open your eyes and look up at Sukuna, right when he opens his eyes too. And for a moment, you are astounded because you have never seen those beautiful maroon eyes look so soft.

Sukuna laughs, a large hand cupping your cheek, and he asks if you want to do one last round across the rink. You nod dazedly, letting him gently pull you along, gliding once again over the glittering ice. Almost as if the two of you are the prince and princess in some fairytale, kissing on the ice, skating together into your happily ever after.

It's not like that, of course. You have to remind yourself this isn't a fairytale. You aren't a couple. But on this evening, for an hour in this dimly lit hockey arena, what the two of you have feels magical.

Is there LOVE in the air? The private ice skating lesson was one of the first scenes I wrote for this AU, and it still gives me so many butterflies aaaahhhhh 💗💗 I want this so bad with him!! I hope you enjoyed it, too!

Writing this story is truly such a comfort to me, and I am so happy to hear that it brings y'all joy, too. Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback and for getting on this journey with me 💗

I hope you enjoyed the new chapter! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

In Chapter 8 Reader will struggle with her feelings ;)

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Ron is actually really smart

(Or, at least he was until the movies and JKR dumbed him down)

So, Ron is actually really smart in the books. Even though he gets dumbed down in books 6 and 7 (movies influence, I'm almost certain), he is really clever in the earlier books, and even in DH he has clever moments of his prior characterisation shine through. And I want to defend the intelligence of my boy, Ron.

So, like with Harry’s post, I'm going to start with Ron's grades. Contrary to popular consensus, Ron's (and Harry’s) grades are above average:

He looked around. Hermione had her back to him and her head bent, but Ron was looking delighted. “Only failed Divination and History of Magic, and who cares about them?” he said happily to Harry. “Here — swap —” Harry glanced down Ron’s grades: There were no “Outstandings” there. . . .

(HBP, Ch5)

So Ron's grades are probably something like this:

Astronomy - A (He drops Divination) Care of Magical Creatures - E (It's the grade Harry got, and we know he chose to drop it) Charms - E (We see him in class) Defense Against the Dark Arts - E (no outstandings + We see him in class) Divination - P (we know he failed) Herbology - E (We see him in class) History of Magic - P (we know he failed) Potions - E (We see him in class) Transfiguration - E (We see him in class)

This makes 5 'E's and 1 'A'.

'A' is for 'Acceptable' because it is the average grade. We know only 12 students get an E or O in Potions, and the grade distribution is something like this:

(Grade distrebution discussed more here)

Where the average Hogwarts student only takes 3-4 NEWTs, like Neville, who's cleared for 3 NEWTs:

“Herbology, fine,” she said. “Professor Sprout will be delighted to see you back with an ‘Outstanding’ O.W.L. And you qualify for Defense Against the Dark Arts with ‘Exceeds Expectations.’ But the problem is Transfiguration. I’m sorry, Longbottom, but an Acceptable’ really isn’t good enough to continue to N.E.W.T level. [...] “Take Charms,” said Professor McGonagall, “and I shall drop Augusta a line reminding her that just because she failed her Charms O.W.L., the subject is not necessarily worthless.” Smiling slightly at the look of delighted incredulity on Neville’s face, Professor McGonagall tapped a blank schedule with the tip of her wand and handed it, now carrying details of his new classes, to Neville.

(HBP, Ch9)

Or Fred and George, who also only take 3 O.W.Ls each:

“You know, I don’t get why Fred and George only got three O.W.L.s each,” said Harry, watching as Fred, George, and Lee collected gold from the eager crowd. “They really know their stuff...”

(OotP, Ch17)

Hermione talks them down as just being "flashy", but Harry is right. Fred and George are smart and magically gifted. They just don't care for school.

Now the point is that Neville and the twins are treated as the average — 3 NEWT classes is normal. By comparison, Ron and Harry's 5 NEWT classes are more than most students take:

“So, Potter, Potter . . .” said Professor McGonagall, consulting her notes as she turned to Harry. “Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration . . . all fine. I must say, I was pleased with your Transfiguration mark, Potter, very pleased. [and then she brings up Potions]

(HBP, Ch9)

(Hermione takes more classes, of course, but I'm defending Ron right now, and she still only takes 7. And all of them could've taken Care of Magical Creatures if they wanted to, they had the grades for it. Harry and Ron each passed 7 O.W.Ls, which is higher than the average 3-4, including subjects that are considered harder like Potions and Transfiguration)

This is even more impressive when you consider the fact that Harry and Ron put in the literal minimal effort into their classwork. All of the Golden Trio are naturally gifted, Hermione just puts in the effort to get all these 'O's. She studies a lot, she likes studying, and it's important to her. If Ron or Harry studied like Hermione, they would get all 'O's too. It's a matter of priorities, not abilities.

Now, in the early books, Ron is treated as the character who knows the Wizarding World. He knows wizarding rules, culture and customs:

“But it’s against our laws,” said Ron. “Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks’ Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It’s hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we’re keeping dragons in the back garden — anyway, you can’t tame dragons, it’s dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie’s got off wild ones in Romania.” “But there aren’t wild dragons in Britain?” said Harry. “Of course there are,” said Ron. “Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who’ve spotted them, to make them forget.” “So what on earth’s Hagrid up to?” said Hermione.

(PS, Ch14)

He can and does recite laws and facts about their government, and creatures — stuff even Hermione doesn't know. He grew up in this world, he doesn't need to memorise books, he grew up with it. It's his common knowledge of the world he grew up in, and I think fanon/fics should use Ron for exposition as much as the early books did. There's no reason Hermione would have more common knowledge of the Wizarding World than Ron, who grew up there. She would know more about specific fields she researched, but not the daily, general stuff.

Ron is also calm under pressure. He and Harry tend to keep their cool when Hermione panics. And Ron is the born and raised wizard in their group and it shows:

“Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare…what did Professor Sprout say? — it likes the dark and the damp.” “So light a fire!” Harry choked. “Yes — of course — but there’s no wood!” Hermione cried, wringing her hands. “HAVE YOU GONE MAD?” Ron bellowed. “ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?” “Oh, right!” said Hermione [...] “Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione,” said Harry as he joined her by the wall, wiping sweat off his face. “Yeah,” said Ron, “and lucky Harry doesn’t lose his head in a crisis — ‘there’s no wood,’ honestly.”

(PS, Ch16)

He's the one who thinks of magic as his first solution to everything because he always knew about it.

(I also want to note that Ron didn't lose his head in a crisis, but he mentions only Harry. Because Ron loves his new best friend and wants to compliment him and he has low self-esteem)

We knew he is strategic. In the early books, his skills in chess are mentioned often (this is just an example):

“Oh I suppose not,” she sighed, and she sat down to watch their chess match, which culminated in an exciting checkmate of Ron’s, involving a couple of recklessly brave pawns and a very violent bishop.

(GoF, Ch23)

Strategy is a kind of intelligence. A kind of intelligence Hermione often struggles with (see Devil's Snare, Umbridge & the Centaurs, etc. Hermione, when put on the spot, struggles with plannign and thinking ahead. That's were Harry and Ron shine, in different ways, that is), and it shows when he keeps beating her in chess:

where he found Ron and Hermione playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron thought was very good for her.

(PS, Ch13)

Ron can and does come to smart conclusions based on evidence. He's, at times, better at it than Hermione.

In PoA, he's the one to suspect Hermione has something going on. He notices the discrepancies in her schedule and keeps noticing throughout the year because he is observant:

“Hermione,” said Ron, frowning as he looked over her shoulder, “they’ve messed up your schedule. Look — they’ve got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn’t enough time.” “I’ll manage. I’ve fixed it all with Professor McGonagall.” “But look,” said Ron, laughing, “see this morning? Nine o’clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o’clock, Muggle Studies. And” — Ron leaned closer to the schedule, disbelieving — “look — underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o’clock. I mean, I know you’re good, Hermione, but no one’s that good. How’re you supposed to be in three classes at once?”

(PoA, Ch6)

Ron frowned after her. “What’s she talking about?” he said to Harry. “She hasn’t been to an Arithmancy class yet.”

(PoA, Ch6)

And he raises the possibility that Snape or Dumbledore want Harry's mind more open to Voldemort. He comes to conclusions based on the information he has and is willing to consider less savory, more out-of-the-box possibilities:

“That’s not funny,” said Hermione sharply. “Dumbledore doesn’t want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn’t have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.” “I am working!” said Harry, nettled. “You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!” “Maybe . . .” said Ron slowly. “Maybe what?” said Hermione rather snappishly. “Maybe it’s not Harry’s fault he can’t close his mind,” said Ron darkly. “What do you mean?” said Hermione. “Well, maybe Snape isn’t really trying to help Harry. . . .” Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one to the other. “Maybe,” he said again in a lower voice, “he’s actually trying to open Harry’s mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —” “Shut up, Ron,” said Hermione angrily.

(OotP, Ch25)

And he is right in the above. He is correct that it's suspicious, and I think Dumbledore knew it would happen. I can't believe Dumbledore is stupid enough to not realise that having Snape teach Harry is a bad idea. No, I think he wanted Harry to see into Voldemort’s mind for spying purposes, especially after it was so helpful with Arthur, but I digress.

Another example of Ron's presceptiveness is with the twins and the fact that they have money they shouldn’t:

“Yeah, but that’s another thing, how did they get premises?” said Ron, hitting his teacup so hard with his wand that its legs collapsed again and it lay twitching before him. “It’s a bit dodgy, isn’t it? They’ll need loads of Galleons to afford the rent on a place in Diagon Alley, she’ll want to know what they’ve been up to, to get their hands on that sort of gold. . . .” “Well, yes, that occurred to me too,” said Hermione

(OotP, Ch30)

He notices independently of Hermione. Again, all the Golden Trio are smart and receptive — it just shines in different situations.

Even into DH (when Ron has been dumbed down and became more obsessed with food, like the movies), he is still the wisest one in the trio at times and has moments of his former characterisation peeking through (no moments like this I could remember from HBP). He is the one who knows to ask the right questions and make good strategic decisions (even if it's rarer in the last 2 books):

“What are we going to do with them?” Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, “Kill them? They’d kill us. They had a good go just now.”

(DH, Ch9)

He doesn't want to kill them, but the moment Harry took control of the situation and started giving orders, Hermione was still panicking, and Ron started thinking about how to deal with their problem — even if he may not like the solution.

Ron turned suddenly to Harry. “Why can’t they help?” “What?” “They can help.” He dropped his voice and said, so that none of them could hear but Hermione, who stood between then, “We don’t know where it is, We’ve got to find it fast. We don’t have to tell them it’s a Horcrux.”

(DH, Ch29)

The above shows how Ron is willing to ask for help — which is an incredibly useful skill both Harry and Hermione lack at times. Ron recognises the D.A. can help, and that Dumbledore is dead and that they don't need to keep his secrets. Something Harry doesn't really consider since he is so used to doing things on his own and taking sole responsibility for everything (plus his head hurt from Voldemort, I'm giving him a pass here).

Ron is good at magic as well. I wouldn't say he is the best, but he is no slouch either. In the D.A., he succeeds in disarming Hermione while they practice:

“Only once,” said Hermione, stung. “I got you loads more than you got me — ” “I did not only get you once, I got you at least three times — ”

(OotP, Ch18)

Hermione denies it, but he got her at least 3 times.

And in DH he succeeds in escaping and disarming 5 snatchers on his own by getting them to argue with each other and then fighting his way out:

“Anyway, they had a row about whether I was Stan or not. It was a bit pathetic to be honest, but there were still five of them and only one of me and they’d taken my wand. then two of them got into a fight and while the others were distracted I managed to hit the one holding me in the stomach, grabbed his wand, Disarmed the bloke holding mine, and Diapparated. I didn’t do it so well, Splinched myself again”—Ron held up his right hand to show two missing fingernails; Hermione raised her eyebrows coldly—“and I came out miles from where you were. By the time I got back to that bit of riverbank where we’d been . . . you’d gone.”

(DH, Ch19)

(he splinched himself because DH Ron can't be too effective, honestly, I don't like how Harry and Hermione become proficient in apparition pretty quickly, and Ron is the only one to struggle with it for no reason. He can focus when he needs to. I would've been fine with this struggle if Ron wasn't painted as dumb by DH, in general. Like, as one magical struggle, that's fine, but when he thinks the doe is Harry's Patronus? Come on, Ron isn't that stupid. I just discussed how prescriptive he is and that he pays attention to detail! A strategist got to!)

The fact that he thinks about using the basilisk fangs for the Horcruxes is, again, clever and good thinking on Ron's part in DH. Unfortunately, I hate the fact that he can sorta-not-really speak Parseltongue, so the whole plot point is sour for me.

Conclusion: Ron is smart, especially in the early books. I despise how the movies dumbed him down and how JKR nerfed him in the final books:

“Yea, well, food’s one of the five exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration,” said Ron to general astonishment.

(DH, Ch29) - Astonished because Hermione told him that, and everyone's surprised he'd know the sort of things he knew since year 1. Actually, they should all know this too. This should be common wizarding knowledge. She dumbed down Neville and the other purebloods too.

[ceceswithnopizza]

Ony and Anjelica make filthy, sloppy, passionate love.

Warning you may need to change your panties(if I do say so myself)

Intro to Physics was so boring. It felt like high school, the hour and a half class started to feel like a full school day. I could barely keep my eyes open using my balled up fist as a pillow against my cheek as I dozed off again.

“Excuse me Miss Richard’s can you please tell me one of newtons laws?” Mr. Brown quizzed.

Quickly sitting up flipping through my notes as the question repeats in my head. I feel like he makes the lessons boring as fuck on purpose so he can do things like this.

A little under instantly I recited “The force acting on an object is equal to the mass of that object times its acceleration. F=m, Newton’s second law.” Looking at the old man who just quietly nodding a me lazily before going back to the lesson.

Stepping outside again back into the warmth felt amazing. Linking up with my friends James, Nora, and Londyn.

“I want some chipotle” Nora whined as we walked down the stone brick pathways on the way to drop James off to his dorm apartment.

“It’s James’ turn to pick.” I reminded going through my emails. “Fuck” I accidentally said out loud.

“What?” Londyn asked

“The salón is infested with termites so Mitch is shutting everything down for at least a week for fumigations.” I did not bust my ass getting my license just to have it sit in the frame.

“Damn but speaking of the salon and stuff my homebody Ony, he needs his locs done and stuff.” He rattled off as we approached his building.

“How you a boy and don’t know about loc’s?” Nora laughed.

Smacking his teeth “Cause what glorila said ima black ass nigga with waves.” He remixed.

“And a mixer with hella ugly.” She fired back Nora and James doesn’t know it but we all know they’re fucking on the low.

“I wasn’t even talking to you, sis you gon take care of my boy?” He asked causing Londyn to snort.

“She gone take real good care of him.” She dragged.

“Awe hell this sound messy let me gon head and go in the house and we’re eating tacos tonight.” He said going into house.

“Wait you know Ony?” Nora asked

“She more than knows him remember last year when Ony got into it with that boy on the field? That was because our sis got some good cootie cat.” Smacking my teeth at her.

“We were together in high school. We broke up when we got to collage, and then we broke up again year before last and Ony having a short temper don’t got nothing to do with me.” I finished explaining our history.

“Damn so you retwisting his hair?” Nora asked

Shrugging “I mean money is money.”

“Plus it’s Ony and maybe even some dick. . . Okay bye now” she slickly said before going into her apartment leaving just me and Nora.

“Don’t worry I won’t be in the way I too have a d appointment.” She said trying to be vague.

“It’s not a d appointment and we already knew what you were doing tonight. The same thing you’ve done four Friday’s and Wednesday’s in a row.” I teased as we walking into our apartment.

“He he ha ha worry about Ony and when he coming over here.” She said going down the hallway into her room to get ready I’m assuming.

Going into my bathroom getting my shine and jam, hair clips, ratail comb and everything to wash a detox his hair. Maybe five minutes went by before I heard a knock on the door.

Trotting over and opening the door stood Ony in all his tattooed six foot two glory holding two drink and a chic fil a bag.

“You remembered I always get- the 12 count nuggets with the fries, two Polynesian sauce and a lemonade. I know pretty.” He ran down my order walking past me into the house.

Sitting on the couch eating my food before realizing Ony didn’t have anything.

“Wheres your food?” I asked maybe it was just me but I always had a thing for eating in front of someone it felt rude.

“I’m cutting right now.” He said “eat your food.”

“Have just one please you know how I feel about eating in-front of people.” I said holding out one of the dipped nuggets for him to take.

He leaned over and ate the nugget out of my hand. I’m not going to lie I was stuck.

He gave me a half smile before leaning back over and watching the Rick and Morty I had on the tv.

Finishing my food I rinsed ony’s hair and let some stuff sit to get the products and dirt out. Standing over his form rinsing his hair when I felt his right arm wrap around my waist.

Putting my front back on as I continued to wash his hair. After his hair was dried and cleaned I started twisting his hair. Feeling him shift in the hair I stopped.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah just a little uncomfortable.”

“Oh well you can get another chair and take a little break?” I asked

“Nah hold up” he said he stood up leaving the room before coming back with my pink desk chair. He brought it to the living room and sat in front of it on the floor.

“Ony what are you doing?” I asked looking at him as he shrugged before turning back to the tv.

“Waiting for you to finish my hair” he said casually.

Fine if he wanted to get his hair done in the floor than okay.

Continuing like normal I found my rhythm knocking two of the four sections out easy. Turning his head so I could do the front left leaving his head against my knee and inner thigh.

I felt him start to rub in my thigh sending shockwaves to my pussy.

Rushing to finish the section whilst still being neat I turned his head to the other side of my leg. I tried to ignore the way his hand rubbed in circles gently. Making my clit throb.

Finishing his hair a stood up trying to go change my panties before he noticed.

“Where you going?” He said looking at me with those soft hazel eyes he looked so handsome.

“To bed?” I rushed out trying to step away again but he held his grip on my hand. He turned me to him on we were face to face, chest to chest.

“You really don’t miss me ma?” He said looking down at me his voice soft like it always was when he looked at me like this.

“How you figure that?” I asked getting sucked into his eyes.

“You rushing and you barely talking to me. What’s wrong?” I asked pulling me into a hug his lips against my ears as he rubbed on my butt.

Melting into him

“Nothing I just don’t want to get caught up into you again?” I said truthfully

“Why?”

“I get caught up into you so bad. And you abuse it”

“How?”

“You do everything right in the beginning but then you fall off, stoop showing your care stay out longer without saying anything. Just being careless.”

“I’m sorry baby, you just full of so much love I get scared and fucked up about you. Give me another chance i promise I’ll do right by you baby!” He said taking his head from my neck and looking me deep in the eyes.

He stared kissing on my face trailing down my neck. One, two, three wet kisses on my neck.

Licking my sweet spot just below the underside of my jaw biting my lips to keep from moaning out loud.

“Tell me” peck “to stop” peck peck “and I’ll stop” he said.

Moving my hand around his neck titling my head to give me better access.

Grabbing two handfuls of my ass he stuck his hands in my shorts playing with the thing sting on my thong. His big hands trailing down my skin all the way to my pussy he grazed my clit with his thumb, going in between my leg with the rest of his other fingers feeling my wetness.

“You missed daddy, baby?” He softly asked pecking me on the lips. I nodded.

“Use your voice!”

“I missed you Ony” I moaned out before helping as Ony picked me up and carried me to my room. Making quick work of my clothes I was face down ass up with Ony holding my hands behind my back.

His tongue, flat and wet as he licked in between my lips quickly finding my clit.

“Oh fuck” using our connecting hands that sat on my ass he bounced my pussy deeper on his tongue and locking me into place. He knew my body like the back of his hand the fierce wet licks easily making me cum.

“Oh-h papa I’m finna cum.” I cried out trying to crawl up the bed.

“Naw, take this shit! Cum on daddy face.” He said slurping me harder feeling the ballon in my belly get bigger and bigger as my orgasm got more intense.

“Just like that, good girl.” He praised as I squirted on his face. “Keep riding my face! Getcho nut princess.” I swirled my hips riding his mouth.

“I’m cumming” I chanted as my eyes rolled hard back into my head.

“Stay just like that!” He said as I came down from my orgasm, feeling Ony’s heavy dick tap on my ass.

“I missed your pussy so much baby” Ony slurred a little. taking his dick and tapping it on my clit before putting it in.

My eyes instantly rolled in the back of my head as he filled up me slowly going in and out of me. moaning I put my hand over my mouth.

“Uht-uh I needs hear that” he said smacking my ass a gasp escaping my mouth moaning as he started to speed up. Crawling down the bed pushing myself onto onys pelvis.

“N-need some more papa” I moaned

—-

I didn’t finish this my phone broke it was a whole thing but anyhow I will try to be more active I love yalll 🪼

[libraryraccoon]

Ok, so, imagine the overblot hand with a yuu that has a gigantic griffin as a familiar, I'm talking 10' feet for more. Oh yeah, that's just my partner and their

12' FEET TALL GRIFFIN???

Raccoon Note : YES. JUST A 12' FEET TALL GRIFFIN WITH A LIL' WITHOUT MAGIC TEENAGER Genre : GN Type : Headcanon Characters : Overblot boys + the apparition of Grim and Crowley Infos about the fic : Griffin are seeing as one of the most dangerous thing in Twisted Wonderland and hard to find (it's a twisted world after all). Yuu's world Griffins are NOT the same as the ones in Twisted Wonderland. TW : English isn't my first language, bad english. I don't really know a lot about griffins but I tried, the griffins in Yuu's world are NOT the same in Twisted Wonderland.

Crowley was looking for the new student, they had opened their gate by themselves and left ! This had never happened before ! Now, Crowley had to search them without any help !

He walked towards the garden, where he saw a student (probably the new one) with some kind of cat with blue fire similar to those of the Shroud.

Crowley approached, preparing his magic to deal with the animal, when a large animal charged at the cat and- WAS IT A GRIFFIN ?!

No need to tell that Crowley thought he was dreaming when you said that that Griffin was your familiar.

He brought you back to the ceremony, praying that your griffin could pass through the doors normally, without breaking everything.

Spoiler : The griffin was too tall. The doors are broken now (and Crowley is crying looking at the costs he will have to pay for repairs).

When you entered in the ceremony room, all attention was on the griffin that had just broken down the door to get in.

(I will rename the griffin Cloudwing because they need a name)

Cloudwing was looking everywhere, searching for a potential menace, until you told them to stop and that nothing bad would happen.

When the studiants saw that the griffin was listening to you, they were sure you will be sort at Diasomnia. I mean, a human that have a giant griffin must be really powerful, right ?

No need to tell the shock they had when the Black Mirror said you had no magic.

Grim took advantage of the confusion of the students and the headmage to create chaos, saying that he wanted that without magic-human place.

"Catch him." Was all you said to your griffin, not even looking at Grim.

5 seconds after this order, Grim was trapped under one of the griffin's legs. The griffin looked at Grim in the eyes, wanting to eat him.

"Cloudwing, don't look at the weasel-cat-whatever this is, like that. You're going to scare him."

The griffin huffed but looked away to look at you, waiting the next order.

The students all looked at you with fear and respect. No one had seen a griffin obey at a human so well before- but one without magic ? That had never happened in history !

And Crowley...

"Teenagers scare the livin' shit out of me-"

At the end, you had to stay at the school at Ramshackle.

Funfact : When Crowley said that you were gonna be the school janitor/handyman, Cloudwing attack him before you could stop them, and Crowley was so scared that this griffin will unlive him that he said "You know what ? Ignore that, you can be a student-" in a very fearful way.

Riddle Rosehearts

When you met him, you thought he was a tyrant who's rules are dumb and useless.

I mean, cancelling the magic of others because they have break a rule ? Does he want the students of his dorm to fail their classes ?

You didn't like him, and Cloudwing too.

The only reason you were going to their un-birthday party was because you didn't want Ace and Deuce going back to their dorm alone, not with that tyrant in there.

And you didn't trust Trey and Cater, not when they were close with Riddle. They could betray you for all that you know.

And spoiler : they did.

-

During his overblot, you were at first analyzing it, looking for any weakness.

The two only ways to defeate it was to make Riddle faint or to destroy his phantom.

The glass of the phantom didn't look very strong- it looked like normal glass.

So you did what you thought was the best..

"Cloudwing, detroy that glass head."

You didn't have to say it twice before Cloudwing sinks their claws into the glass, scratching it, destroying it, the black substance (was it the blot ?) spilling onto the floor.

After about a minute, all that remained of the Overblot was a passed out and injured Riddle, along with a huge black/blot puddle that was once the phantom.

-

When Riddle woke up and learn that you were helping, he didn't believe it.

After all, why would you help him ? All that you knew about him was that he was a tyrant.

When he apologized to you, you quickly accepted the apology and asked him if you could come to the un-birthday party Ace had requested.

The un-birthday was good, even the salty pie wasn't that bad.

Even if your griffin had another opinion about the pie..

Leona Kingscholar

You didn't talk with Leona a lot before discovering it was him who was the mastermind behind all the injuries of the magift players.

And when you and others confront him about it, he overblot.

That time, Cloudwing didn't destroy the phantom, no, they attack Leona directly.

Leona's unique magic touches you, and Cloudwing was scared that you will die, really scared. So they acted on instinct.

There was a lot of blood shed on both sides, new scars.

At the end of the Overblot, Leona got some new scars in the shape of griffin talons, and Cloudwing got some lion's scars.

Leona wasn't really happy to have new scars, but it was the price for overblotting, he guess.

You apologized for the scars Cloudwing gave him before living the room, letting him alone.

-

"I know you were scared, but remember : they aren't in their normal condition when they ovetblot. Try to be a little more careful when you fight with them next time, or just fight the phatom behind them. We don't want you to kill someone, right ?"

The griffin didn't answer, but looked disappointed in themselves.

Azul Ashengrotto

The water wasn't you element, and wasn't Cloudwing's element too.

It's for that you didn't sign Azul contract and decided to do a coup d'etat/overturn.

It was simple, really.

Leona owe you a favor since you saved him from the Overblot, he was indebted.

So you will use the students from his dorm to create chaos in Azul's restaurant, Ruggie will steal the contracts and give them to Leona who will destroy them with his unique spell.

See ? Simple. What could goes wrong ?

You haven't tell anything to Ace, Deuce and Grim because you didn't want them to ruin your plan.

And- oh ? How did you knew you could destroy the contracts ? Well, let just say you had some help for finding that information (if anything, it's between you, Rook, and the trees).

What you didn't plan was the overblot.

Yeah, another one-

"Why ?" You asked to the ocean, while the others were fighting.

Cloudwing had a little more trouble beating Azul's phantom than Ridde's, not being used to fighting underwater.

But, at the end, you win ! But at what cost ?...

"Crowley, you can't be serious."

"I, actually, am-"

"I'm NOT paying or helping for rebuild the restaurant just because Azul offered to give you 25% of their revenue if you let him keeping it."

"But-"

"Cloudwing, chase him."

Jamil Viper

The moment he tried to use his unique magic on you, Cloudwing attacked him.

Jamil managed to cover his face with his arm just in time for Cloudwing's claws to not tear his face apart.

His arm though... The medics said he would be scarred by Cloudwing's claws for life.

It wasn't a good moment.

You didn't go to Scarabia, not after what Cloudwing has done.

But, when you heard that there was another overblot at Scarabia and that the Octavinelle trio was involved.. You just knew you had to help them.

That time again, Cloudwing have tore Jamil's phantom apart, but not before giving Jamil a few swipes with his claws.

Looks like you should apologize for the scars... again.

-

Jamil was confused when you apologized.

He was the one who overblot, tried to manipulate you, put you under his unique magic. The scars were just a price to pay for his mistakes, so why were you apologizing ?

You ignored his confusion, and finished your apology before leaving the infirmary.

-

"Cloudwing , do you think one day I will have a normal month ? Without any overblot ?"

Cloudwing didn't answer, but you didn't need to have one for knowing the answer.

Vil Schoenheit

You've saw some of the movies he plays in, and you find it sad that he never win, even if he play a really smart character.

You and Cloudwing always prefer his characters in movies (that is always the smart villain) rather than the one that play Neige (that is always the dumb, naive hero).

But, it was normal considering the fact you come from a world with a lot of anti-heroes, villains characters with a sad backstory, that win.

"What will happen if I make a movie where Vil, the villain, win against Neige, the hero ?"

Cloudwing think a few seconds before speaking (although you didn't understand what they were saying because you don't speak Griffin (is it even possible to learn it ?)).

So, when you met him, you were really excited.

You said that you love the characters he played and find it sad that he never win, after all, sometimes a good villain deserve to win.

You didn't see the look on his face when you said that. He was surprise that someone thought that the characters he played, the villain, should win over Neige characters, the hero.

-

Having them in Ramshackle wasn't that bad, but you made some rules :

Don't poison the food or water

Don't criticize the dorm, we can't afford to renew it and Crowley would rather lose his wings than pay for the dorm.

Don't insult the ghosts (they are quite susceptible).

Don't left your room after 11pm.

Don't do freeky things (looking at you, Rook).

Some rules can be add with times.

It was all the rules you have place.

When Vil said he wanted to make them go on a diet, you asked him if he was going to seek help from a nutritionist to do it, and if he knew about possible allergies that the others had, to avoid any kind of incident.

The day after, you and the others went to see a nutritionist. It has reveal that Ace had an allergy for cucumbers (it's not canon, I just needed someone to have an allergy).

You and Rook became best stalking friends since Azul by the way. You love stalking people for informations. I just place that here.

Half of the living room of the dorm is always taken by Cloudwing.

One day, all the dorm (even the non-permanent members) rode on the griffin back to class because it was late and you didn't want to be late at class. Since then, you always do that.

-

Vil Overblot wasn't really long compare to Azul's one, but the damage Cloudwing have done...

If Malleus wasn't here for fixing it, you just know Crowley would have ask to Cloudwing (and you, maybe) to leave the NRC. Or he would have complain about it for months. You don't know what is the worst.

Vil, surprisingly, didn't have any scars. He was tired, and not okay, but he didn't have any scars.

But you have lost the VDC, because of the traitor Rook is.

-

"Rook... I didn't know you were like Trey and Cater ! Traitor !"

"We already apologized about it !" -probably Cater.

"I didn't forget !"

And Cloudwing agreed with you on that one.

Idia Shroud

You never saw him before his overblotting.

No need to tell that meeting someone when they are overblotting isn't a good thing.

Especially when he stole your son friend before that.

"Show him no mercy."

Maybe you were a little too much thinking with your emotions when your order that to Cloudwing.

But who could blame you ? You didn't know what he had done to your son Grim, or why he was unconscious.

You were holding Grim tight, listening to his heart beat.

Hewasalive,hewasalive,hewasalive,hewasalivenotlike-

You only realize the overblot was over when Cloudwing put his head on yours, like if they were trying to comfort you.

You take a big breath before looking at where Idia was, the phantom was in a puddle of blot, and Idia was injured- not a lot, but he will have one or two scars.

-

You apologized to Idia for the scars, knowing it was your griffin who made them, before finally leaving Styx with your griffin and Grim, ready to go back home to Ramshackle.

You were surprised that the VDC Team had help you with Ramshakle when Crowley didn't, you were feeling like you should pay them back for that.

"Well, if ever you need something, tell me. I owe you a lot for that."

Malleus Draconia

When you met him, you were curious. And he was too.

And how could you not ? He didn't wanted to say who he was, and he was acting like he is famous.

You started to watch movies at first for knowing if he was an actor or no, and he wasn't.

So you thought he was part of the royalty.

So you search on internet and books who were the actual princes/kings. And you found him, after two months.

(You actually just search "Malleus Draconia" on internet because Leona was so angry about him that it made you curious about who he was).

You never said you knew who he was because, well, nickname privilege. You didn't want to stop calling him Hornton. And you thought you would loose it if you say that you know who he is.

"I always knew who you were, I just didn't tell it because I didn't want to loose my nickname privilege." -Yuu, during book 5.

"You can still call me Hornton, if you want." -Malleus, book 5, not knowing that would lead to Yuu calling him like that in public just for fun or for flying with Cloudwing.

Yes, you two fly on Cloudwing back. Or sometimes Malleus take his dragon form and fly next to Cloudwing. It's canon I'm sorry.

During his overblot, you were sad. You didn't want your night best friend to overblot like that. Even Cloudwing was sad.

"How dare he make Cloudwing sad-" -You in the dream, not knowing how to react to a sad Cloudwing, that was the first time and hopefully the last that they will be sad.

Cloudwing didn't want to fight him, in dream like in reality. They were focusing on his phantom, but it was strong.

It has take hours to finally beat him in real life. And it was exhausting.

-

When Malleus woke up, you, your Griffin, and the ones that helped stopping his overblot, were all with him.

Some apologize were made for always letting him alone, for not inviting him at important thing like the ceremony, and more.

You had all a big hug, and the griffin wings were surrounding you all, shielding from view of others.

Some thoughts about you having a Griffin :

Riddle Rosehearts

He thought the griffin was dangerous. Even after seeing that they were listening to you.

For him, griffins were violent creatures with no morals, something dangerous that shouldn't be approch.

He was scared the first time he saw the Griffin at the un-birthday party. He thought that they would kill him.

Especially after he ask to the pie Ace had made to be throw away.

The only reason he think he's still alive, is because you told your griffin to not do anything.

He only started to think at your griffin differently after his overblot, when he was still injured and in a bed and that your griffin layed their head on his bed, looking at him.

"He want you to that you pet him." You said from the door. "Don't worry, Cloudwing is a good griffin, they won't hurt you."

And, for a moment, nothing happen.

But, carefully, Riddle started to pet them.

And your griffin- Cloudwing, Cloudwing- didn't nothing violent. They were just resting in peace.

And that was new for him. A good new.

Leona Kingscholar

Like Riddle, he thought your griffin was dangerous, and you too.

One day, years ago, he saw a griffin attacked Savanaclaw. He remembers the damages the griffin had done, all the blood-

Seeing your griffin reminded it to him.

He decided to not approach you until he's force to.

And he thought that, even if you had no magic, you were dangerous because only a really dangerous person can have a griffin listening to them.

He told what was happening to his brother, even if he don't like him, he wanted him to know the danger that was at the NRC.

Like Riddle, his opinion change a little after his overblot.

When he saw that neither you or your griffin -Cloudwing, you called them- were doing any arms except during the overblots.

He, one time, even sleep on Cloudwing's back. How ? Well, he was asleep on a tree, and fall on Cloudwing that was passing by. And, for some unknow reasons, he didn't wake up and you decided to stay here, waiting him to wake up normally.

But, even after all that, he was still on his guard around you two, just a little less than before.

Azul Ashengrotto

He knew griffins were dangerous, but inside him, after seeing your griffin listening to you like if he was a dog, he couldn't help but think-

"I want one."

After all, if a no-magic, useless person can have one, why couldn't he ? Imagine how powerful he would be with them...

In the contract, he wanted the griffin in exchange of all the anemones. But you refused, and he wasn't okay about it-

He only calm himself after the overblot, when he saw how close you two were.

Before, he didn't understood your choice. A griffin before your friends and all the students free ? Even Ace and Deuce were shock.

But now, he can see that you two are like half of the other, in a platonic sense. Like if you couldn't live without your griffin, and them without you.

He also understood that he can't have a griffin- too dangerous and he's not enough powerful.

But he's curious about how you got one, thing that is supposed to be impossible.

But you won't answer, keeping it a secret. He will discover it, one day, he swears.

Jamil Viper

Like Leona, thought that you two were dangerous.

Feeling that was accentuate after your griffin attacked him, leaving him scars.

After the overblot, he was still scared of your griffin and you.

He only stopped when there was the VDC and that he had to live with you two.

He change his opinion after he realize that you weren't going to hurt him, and that your griffin was, in fact, pretty chill.

Thought for a moment Cloudwing was just a dog disguised as a griffin, but stop when he saw them beating Vil's phantom ass and destroyed everything around them.

Still think you two are dangerous, but only if people make you mad.

Try to stay on your good side.

Vil Schoenheit

Again, thought you two were dangerous.

But he was really curious about how a griffin of all listen to you.

When you two talk for the first time, he was a little surprised that you were a fan and that you thought that he should won in the movies he plays.

"I don't care if you play a villain, you're characters are smart and deserve to win against a naive person, even if it's a hero. And why can’t villains win sometimes ? It could be cool and interesting, changing the game, the rules."

And he was more surprised when he saw the griffin nod in agreement.

But what shock him the most was when he was at Ramshackle, what do you mean your griffin has their own room ? Accept to have people on their back ? Flying with people on their back ? Being pet ? Aren't griffins dangerous and violent ??

Rethinking he's whole life and all he know about griffins.

You have his respect for having a griffin listening to you. Especially after seeing Idia and Malleus overblot and how Cloudwing fight.

Idia Shroud

Was and is still scared of you and your griffin.

He have seen the cameras of his overblot and saw your griffin beat his phantom like it was nothing and sometimes hurting him.

Man is traumatized.

You can't do anything, he won't go outside if you're outside.

But he was forced by Ortho.

You apologized but even then, that man is scared and won't stop before Malleus overblot, when Cloudwing protect them.

Malleus Draconia

He was curious about you and your griffin.

How a little fragile thing like you had a griffin ? And stop ignoring the question.

"Your name and I tell you how."

He was at that 🤏 to say it for having the answer.

But decided not, he didn't want to loose his only friend.

But does that make two with Cloudwing ?

Love Cloudwing, the two love flying together.

Even after his overblot, he's opinion about them didn't change.

For him, he was a strange griffin, preferring protecting than fighting.

That change of the griffins of here.

Crowley and the NRC

You asked Crowley to let you do a lesson to everyone in the NRC about griffins in your world.

In your world, they were protective creatures, not violent like in their.

You had made 30 lessons in total about your world and how the creatures are in it. There was a comparison made between the creatures of the two worlds and how they acted.

And oh- was it something to learn that Griffins were violent creature here.

[burreauxsss]

another year older

background: y/n a wag for the chiefs who is dating travis kelce of 3 years finds out he cheated on her. she assures herself that she'd never watch the nfl nor date another nfl player, until a convincing quarterback hits her dms.

(all pics from pinterest)

synopsis: after the win against the chargers and the win against the cowboys joe's birthday comes up and so does talks about them clinching the division, and travis talks crap so he gets gagged by no other than yn.

notes: i lied about taking a break... anyways my ex friend just launched her and my ex on her socials.. bby you can have ‘it’

warning: this is a au/ alternative universe. meanin the bengals are 13-1 rn.

bengals

❤️ 54,866 💬 713

Liked by: nfl yn.handle and others

bengals: ¡Ay, caramba!

username_1: caption though?

username_2: new kicker did that.

nfl: tough caption.

*load more comments*

yn.handle 📍dallas tx

❤️ 390,412 💬 3,129

Liked by: skims joeyb_9 and others

yn.handle: night out 🐅 with skims

joeyb_9: need 🐅

username_3: not the print bodysuitttt

username_4: joes comment has me in slight shock

username_5: its because hes the birthday boy 😭

*load more comments*

heismantrophy

❤️ 35,916 💬 87

Liked by: joeyb_9 lsufootball and others

heismantrophy: happy birthday to lsu tiger, 2019 recipient joe burrow!

username_7: happy birthday?

username_8: best heisman OAT.

username_9: its been so long.

*load more comments*

lsufootball

❤️ 116,166 💬 135

Liked by: nfl heismantrophy and others

lsufootball: 5 years ago, joe burrow rewrite the history books with the most dominating win ever. happy birthday joe.

username_10: the goat!

username_11: best era.

username_12: ringless fraud

username_13: geaux!!

*load more comments*

bengals

❤️ 116,166 💬 135

Liked by: nfl yn.handle and others

bengals: wishing joe a very happy birthday!!

username_14: how old is this man again? username_15: 28.

username_16: our qb!

username_17: finest qb ever.

*load more comments*

yn.handle

❤️ 285,124 💬 14,189

Liked by: joeyb_9 bengals and others

bengals: happy happy birthdey to my #1 person in my entire world. i love you so so much, cheers to another year mi amor. 🤍

joeyb_9: love you more 🧡

lahjay_10: shiesty being soft.. you cracked the code.

username_18: my favorite couple.

username_19: the hand?

bengals: who dey!

*load more comments*

joeyb_9 posted a story

caption: yn.handle birthday cake

nfl

❤️ 1m 💬 29,148

Liked by: bengals chiefs and others

nfl: if the the nfl regular season ended today, the bengals would be the #1 AFC seed.

username_20: who dey!

username_21: mvp burrow.

username_22: chiefs aint slick.

username_23: he has the hottest girl i swear.

*load more comments*

yourbsf posted a story

caption: yalls favorite wag yn_handle

yn.handle

❤️ 240,107 💬 4,184

Liked by: yourbsf joeyb_9 skims cartier and others

yn.handle: skims custom with cartier.

username_24: THE SHADE???

username_25: i love y/n.

joeyb_9: mind to share with the class about who gave you the custom idea?

traviskelce: dating a small handed fraud isnt my fault.

yn.handle: some things shouldnt be smaller than his hand. and you know what i mean. traviskelce

username_26: MY JAW DROPPED. SHE GAGGED HARD.

username_27: wife her up shiesty.

*load more comments*

bengals

❤️ 61,041 💬 193

Liked by: joeyb_9 lahjay_10 and others

bengals: music city.

username_28: lock in.

username_29: the cartier shades???

username_30: who dressed joe today.

*load more comments*

yn.handle posted a story

caption: hello tennessee 🤠

bengals

❤️ 35,205 💬 101

Liked by: yn.handle nfl and others

bengals: sweet sound!

username_31: we almost clinching the entire berth.

username_32: i know travis punching a wall being a #3 seed right now.

username_33: who dey!

username_34: our defense made them look like a top 3 offense.

*load more comments*

nfl

❤️ 159,273 💬 401

Liked by: bengals espn sportscenter and others

nfl: if the bengals win their next divisional game at the browns (12/22) or steelers (1/4) , the bengals can clinch the the #1 spot.

username_35: joe acting like its 2019 again...

username_36: thats shiesty, not joe.

username_37: thats easy. clinched.

*load more comments*

yn.handle posted a story

caption: fit 🏈

yn.handle

❤️ 159,273 💬 401

Liked by: joeyb_9 skims and others

yn.handle: classless exes.

username_38: miss girl 🫢

username_39: the bodyy??

username_40: why is she showing her body.. username_41: shes not comparing. she never reposts revealing stuff rarely.

username_42: that 2 piece though. i know joe is going insane.

*load more comments*

notes: i told you itll be longer.

[felinecyan]

When The Night Calls

[Izuku Midoriya x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Your best friend leaving the hero course was enough to make you lose your mind. Especially when he’s suddenly standing across from you with nothing but a tired smile.

WC: 2978

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Vigilante!Deku

Please give this one extra love!! Somehow Midoriya is also very suspiciously difficult to write 👀 (Also, that 3rd-degree burn I gave my hand today is making me want to cry and throw myself in a river. Damn you, AO3 curse!! )

『••✎••』

Seeing that letter taped on your door broke you in more ways than one.

He had been gone for almost a week, but his note left behind made you realize just how long it'd been. How long he had left you with nothing more than a simple explanation of his departure and how it felt like he was never coming back.

The entire class had been on edge ever since. The note even threw Bakugo for a loop, as much as he would deny it. It had everyone wondering where he was and if he was okay.

It hurt you the most, though. He was the closest friend you had and the only one who truly understood your feelings.

But now he was gone.

Aizawa still continued teaching, but with Midoriya absent, the class just couldn't focus. He wasn't as good at making things seem less depressing or stressful, and his lectures were just boring without a green bush to lighten the mood. Or at least, you thought so.

You haven't been paying much attention lately, and you're too busy thinking of your missing friend. Your grades had been slipping, but it wasn't like anyone could blame you. Even if your friends could, they didn't say anything.

They had tried talking to you, but all you could do was give them a half-hearted smile, shake your head, and tell them, "I'm fine."

You weren't fine, and you knew that. But what were you supposed to do? Cry about it? It’s not like he’d come back if you did that.

Ironically, he did technically come back.

That day, Aizawa decided to keep the pain everyone felt about Midoriya buried beneath the surface, so he assigned you all a ten-page essay about the history of quirks.

So, here you were, writing a half-assed essay close to two in the morning. Kaminari was blowing up the group chat with memes and random jokes, but no one seemed to care or even respond.

Well, that was until Bakugo started yelling at him to stop texting because he was trying to sleep.

That went on for about a solid ten minutes, with everyone getting annoyed at the two idiots, but eventually, it died down.

You took a glance at the clock, which now read 2:12 a.m.

Sleep just couldn't come to you. Not now, not when your brain was filled with thoughts of the broccoli boi.

Then, there was a tiny patter against your window, almost like a knock. If it hadn’t been so quiet, you might not have heard it.

You ignored it at first, of course, but it continued, the knocks getting louder and more urgent.

Finally, you stood from your chair, deciding to investigate, but then, the knocking stopped.

You paused, confused, but shrugged, figuring you must have been hearing things.

Yeah, right, because hearing knocks on your dorm window at 2 a.m. is normal.

It turned out to be a good thing you got up because when you turned back around, a figure was directly behind you.

You jumped back in fear, letting out a short shriek before slapping your hands over your mouth. The side eye glance to your window, now open and curtain rustling in the slight wind, had you regretting not locking the damn thing.

The figure let out a small chuckle, his shoulders shaking a bit, and your heart rate sped up.

You could see the person a lot better now that they weren't in the shadows, but the moonlight still kept their face hidden.

All you could see was the curly mess of green hair and a large hoodie with a black mask pulled over the bottom half of their face.

But you didn’t have to see his eyes to know exactly who it was.

Your hands fell limply to your sides as the boy stepped closer. His hand reached the hood of his suit, slowly pulling it off, and his bright, emerald green eyes were staring straight into yours.

The only thing you could do was stare, dumbfounded.

"You did lock it, by the way," the boy's voice said. It sounded hoarse and scratchy as if he hadn't spoken in days. He probably hadn't.

Still, his intuition never failed.

You continued to stare, eyes wide and unblinking.

Midoriya's brow furrowed, a look of worry replacing his smile.

"They really should put more difficult locks on these things. I mean, honestly, all I had to do was twist it, and it opened. If I were a villain, then— hmph!"

Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, cutting him off. His eyes widened, surprised, but eventually, he relaxed, wrapping his own arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

"I was so worried," you said. You could feel your body starting to tremble, tears pricking your eyes. "Everyone was."

His arms tightened, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I know. I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. "I couldn't think of any other way."

You leaned back a bit enough to look him in the eyes. His tired, determined eyes.

"Wait, if you’re here… does that mean...?"

"I need my notebook." He kept his frown, and a sigh escaped his lips. "You have my old notes, right? I need those."

Oh.

That was it.

That was why he was back.

"Oh," You failed to hide the disappointment in your tone. "Right, uh, hold on…"

You pulled away, your eyes looking away from his. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head as you walked over to the desk, rummaging through the drawer.

Speaking of, your desk was an absolute disaster. If allowing students in your dorm room wasn't against the rules, Iida would have broken down your door a long time ago, screaming at the top of his lungs about how your room was in utter chaos.

Eventually, you found it. It was covered in sticky notes, and some of the pages were folded. Makes sense, considering the fact that you'd spent the last week reading it, studying, and hoping to find some kind of clue about his whereabouts and the league itself.

But even if it was in your hands, screaming for its owner, you hesitated. He was going to leave again, wasn't he? He wasn't going to stay.

But common sense hit you. You couldn’t force him to stay. It would be selfish of you to even ask.

You turned, walking back over to him. He was staring intently at the ground, his eyes narrowed in concentration, and he had a small frown on his face.

When you were a couple of feet away, he finally looked up, his hand reaching out for the book.

"Here," you said, trying not to let the sadness seep into your words. "Don’t mind the added stickies. Simpler terms, easier to understand, you know?"

"Right, thanks," he murmured, his eyes darting over the cover before flipping through the pages. His brows were scrunched together, and his fingers fiddled with the pages, flipping through them with a practiced speed.

He was so concentrated on the notebook that he didn't see your frown, and he didn't see the sadness in your eyes.

But then, he froze.

His eyes scanned over one of the pages, his fingers tightening around the spine of the book, and his breath hitched.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and his lips were set in a tight line.

"You read this?"

"Huh?" You blinked, taken aback. "Was I… not supposed to read it all?"

"What? No, no, I meant this page."

He flipped the book around, opening it to a certain page, and held it up for you to see.

Oh, yeah, his page. The one where he wrote about himself. Which, proudly, you knew most of what was written in it, anyway. Some things caught you off guard, but not many.

"Oh, yeah, I skimmed over it," you admitted.

"And... how much did you skim over?"

"Um... all of it? I mean, I'm in your hero notes, too. I took a lot more of my time on the page dedicated to me, I have to admit, but uh… What's the big deal?"

Midoriya looked at you, and his gaze was intense. "Did you… miss me that much that you would study my hero notes that closely?"

"Well, I wouldn’t say closely—"

He tilted his head in an almost sarcastic manner, and his eyes narrowed as he leaned over to point at a section in his notes.

A bright pink sticky note, covered in stars, was stuck onto the paper.

It was a small part, a very short paragraph, and you had given your analysis of him and not of his quirk either. It was a list of his attributes, his personality, and the type of hero he was.

To someone else, it would be pretty informative about what kind of person he was and what kind of hero he would be, but you both knew the true meaning behind the note.

Because it was all the things you missed about him.

"… oh, " was all you could say.

The air around you two suddenly became awkward, the silence becoming heavy.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

But, as expected, Midoriya broke the silence.

"I figured since you’re still awake, it must mean that you're working on homework or studying, and you wouldn’t do that at night if I weren’t gone," he began. "I thought that maybe it would be too soon to come back, or even that I should have stayed away, but, well, I really needed my notes, and, honestly, I wanted to see you, and—!"

He was rambling again. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, his brain spitting out more words than his mouth could.

At least he was still himself, you thought.

You decided to cut him off, placing your hand on his arm, and he jolted at the sudden contact, his head snapping back up to yours.

"I’m sorry," you said, looking down.

He looked confused, tilting his head. "What for? You have nothing to be sorry for; you didn't do anything wrong."

"No, I—" You cut yourself off, biting your lip, and looked away. You took a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm sorry," you started. "For not stopping you. For not coming with you. For not helping you. I had no idea what you were going through, and I was too worried about myself, and I didn't—"

"Hey, hey, stop," Midoriya said, placing his hand on your shoulder. You hadn't realized you were shaking. "This is my fight, okay? It's not yours, and I was the one who didn’t want to bring anyone else into this mess. This isn’t your fault, so please don’t beat yourself up about it."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." You looked back up at him, tears blurring your vision. "I don’t know how to help."

He was silent for a moment, but then, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you once again, and you buried your head in his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie.

"It's okay," he said. "I don’t expect you to know how to help, and I didn’t come here for your help. Well, technically, I did since you had my notebook, but I’m speaking on a—"

“I know, I know," you mumbled.

Another moment of silence, and then, he sighed, a puff of air brushing your ear.

"I'm not sure when I'll be back, if I ever will, but I promise," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear and his words making your heart skip a beat. "I promise we will be fine. We all will. Me, you, everyone else. It might take a while, but we will be okay."

You nodded, your grip on his hoodie tightening. This was the sound of a goodbye, and the finality of it terrified you.

"It’s just…" you mumbled, and his brow furrowed.

"Just what?"

You hesitated, a lump forming in your throat.

"What?" He repeated, pulling back to look you in the eye. "Please tell me."

You took a deep breath, swallowed the lump, and looked him in the eye.

"It's just that... You’re my not-alone buddy, remember?”

Midoriya froze, his eyes widening.

It was a little game you two had back when things weren’t so complicated. Back when you were just normal students.

You both struggled to make friends, so you made a pact. Obviously, that thought disbanded when everyone else got close, and now you all were pretty good friends, but the friendship between him and you was different. It was a bond between you two that was just special.

Not even ‘Kacchan’ could ruin that, as close as he and Midoriya grew.

You never called him Deku, even after Bakugo and the rest of the class started calling him by the nickname. Sure, it was his hero name, and you could call him that, but you just never felt comfortable.

Todoroki didn’t either, but then again, Todoroki didn't call anyone by their nicknames.

But, back to the point.

"We made a pact, and... that was one of the things I wrote on the sticky notes." You gestured to the book. "It was during my angry denial phase, so I’m not that proud of it, but… it was still true."

"You were angry?" He asked, confused. "Why?"

"Well, first of all, I was worried sick. I knew you were going to go do something stupid, and obviously, I was right.”

He winced at that.

"But I was angry because you didn’t trust me, and I felt like you were leaving me, too," you said, biting your lip. "I know that sounds stupid and selfish, and I get that this was your battle, not mine, and I can't change that, but... I guess I was just scared. You didn’t even tell me before you left, and the note was just..."

You trailed off, a lump forming in your throat again, and your eyes burned with tears.

You didn't want to cry in front of him, so you buried your face in his chest again, and his grip tightened around you.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

You shook your head. "Don’t apologize. It's not like you're changing your mind."

He was quiet for a moment, his head lowering and his lips resting on your forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Your breath hitched. "Izuku, please don't say it."

He pulled back, and his face was unreadable. He looked determined, his eyes burning with passion, and it hurt. It hurt to know that, despite everything, he still had his mind made up.

"I have to go," he said, and his voice was quiet. "I don’t want to leave you alone. I really don’t, but I have to, and you need to stay safe. Me being here isn't doing anything good, and I can't keep coming back and putting you in danger. So, for now, at least until the Shigaraki is dealt with, please just be safe. Don’t try and find me, and please don't let anyone else know I was here."

He paused, his eyes glancing towards the window.

"Actually, I might come back just to get rid of that lock. I mean, seriously, I barely even touched it, and it came right off. You could easily replace it with something stronger, maybe one of those new locks that only respond to fingerprints! But, then it can be traced back to you, and they can use you to— oh, man, I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

You didn't bother to respond. Instead, you leaned up, pressing your lips against his cheek.

Midoriya's entire face went bright red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

You could feel your face burning, but it was worth it to see his reaction.

"Be careful," you said. "Please, Izu, don’t be stupid."

"R-Right."

He stumbled a bit, his hand coming up to touch the spot where your lips were. His eyes flickered back to you, and you swore you saw him blushing, but then he turned, heading towards the window.

"Oh, uhm, b-by the way," he said, reaching the window. He placed his hand on the frame, glancing back at you. "For Aizawa's essay, you have to also analyze the strengths and weaknesses, not just the evolution of quirks. Make sure to read the whole paragraph in that book he gave us at the beginning of the semester."

He gave you one last smile, pulling the mask over his mouth and the hood over his head. You looked in befuddlement as he stepped out onto the roof, and your hands were wrapped around the edges of the open window.

"How did you—"

"It's Aizawa," His mask was muffling his voice, so he lifted it up a bit, and his eyes twinkled. "What else do you expect from him?"

And then he jumped.

He let the mask drop back down and became just another shadow in the night, with his green lightning trailing behind him.

You didn’t have the energy to laugh, and you didn't have the heart.

You leaned against the windowsill, letting the cool night air wash over your face. You sighed, watching the clouds drift in the sky.

"You're still an idiot," you whispered, closing your eyes.

When the sun rises, this encounter will only be a distant memory.

But for now, the cold night was enough to convince you otherwise. For now, his green eyes were staring up at the same night sky, and he was thinking of you, too.

That kiss on the cheek, as tame as it was, was still enough to make his head spin. You were still his friend, his not-alone buddy, and nothing was going to change that.

And you both were okay with that.

[elssero]

꩜ enlightenment

i.midoriya

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 01 2k words.

next, masterlist.

11:58am.

if izuku hasn’t been nervous the entire morning then he definitely is now, it feels like he’s standing on the edge of a diving board, his heart raceing, beating faster than usual, a tightness in his chest.

in two minutes exactly his long awaited test results will be emailed to him by his professor, to say he’s dreading it is an understatement. the class is english, and although not his major, it’s a class that izuku needs to do well in, or at least pass.

however going by his previous results that’s appearing to be easier said than done.

he sits on the edge of his chair, his leg bouncing uncontrollably as he stares at his computer. his hands are clasped tightly together, his knuckles pale from the pressure. every few moments, he wipes his palms on his pants, only for them to become clammy again.

izuku’s mind is a whirlwind of scenarios as it often is, flipping between hope and dread, each possibility more vivid than the last. his lips press into a thin line, then part slightly as he mutters something to himself, maybe a prayer or just a reassurance. he glances at the clock, then at the computer again, his heart thudding in his ears. when the notification finally comes, his breath catches, his hand trembling as he reaches to open it.

fail.

the email reads kind, he can tell his professor is attempting to soften the blow. excuses about his stupid mistakes or skills that just need more development, but izuku can’t tear his eye away from the result- disappointment.

he skims through the rest of the email, finding nothing of note until the last paragraph in which his professor suggests that maybe, a tutor could actually do izuku some good, followed by what appears to be the email of a fellow student of his.

he doesn’t fight the sigh that is let out in response, this isn’t the first time the idea of a tutor has been brung up to izuku. looking at his results for this english tests during his first semester would tell you that he definitely needs one.

maybe it’s a confidence thing, or maybe it’s the fact he’s never had a tutor before, but izuku is terrified- to the extent he’s been dodging his tutors suggestion of a tutor for weeks.

he doesn’t need one- he just needs to put some extra work in- why is he even taking english in the first place? it’s not like he needs to know the history of shakespeare for a mechanical engineering degree??

extra classes are a waste of time anyway.

regardless of his little temper tantrum- izuku knows in the back of his mind that this extra curricular would look great on his degree, and he’s spent far too many hours studying to just give in now.

12:14pm.

“you remember that boy that keeps refusing your tutoring? he failed another test today.”

shaking your head in disappointment you take ur report from your bag and hand it to mr yamada before you respond- “did you offer him my tutoring again?”

“yes- i even sent him your email address over in the hopes he gets drunk one night and begs you to tutor him. honestly it’s like he doesn’t want to pass”

there’s an exasperated look on your professors face amidst the giggle he lets out at the idea of his student drunk, you’ve spent enough time with him to know that this kid is stressing him out- it’s clear how much he cares about his students, something in which you admire about him.

“keep pestering him- i’m sure he’ll come around”

“i’m not so sure- midoriya is extremely stubborn, even though he doesn’t seem it- asking for help can be difficult for some kids.” you swear you watch your professors eyes flick up to your own, you get the feeling he may be alluding to something more than midoriya here.

you shake your head anyway, a small smile on your face. you’ve spent so much time in professor yamada’s office this year you’d be as well setting up camp there- it’s a silly thought.

you think back to midoriya, and what you know- or don’t know about him.

he’s a mechanical engineering student, taking english as an extra class to fill out his timetable and he’s definitely struggling. you can’t blame him- it’s not for everyone.

however he appears to be extremely and entirely against tutoring? your not taking it personally, as the boy doesn’t know who you are, but you can’t help this weird feeling in your chest- that you want to help him.

you can’t explain it, not at all. you’ve never met this boy, the only details about him you know are recounts from your shared professor, but you can’t help this internal need to want to teach him, for him to do well.

It doesn’t come as a surprise to either you or mr yamada when midoriya ignores the suggestion of tutoring in his response email, instead giving his professor a quick thanks for his grade and wishing him a good weekend.

at least he’s polite.

your time with your professor ends quickly after that, quickly bidding him goodbye with the promise of seeing him on monday before your on your way. midoriya is out of your mind by the time your off campus.

11:42pm

It’s the second friday of the month, which means that tonight midoriya will spend almost his entire weekend stuck in this stupid gas station.

living in a college town means he can expect the groups of young adults walking in any second- either already extremely drunk or looking to buy the means to get there.

he doesn’t hate his job- no definitely not. He likes the night shifts during the weeks, it’s quiet, and lonely, and he has the entire place to himself the whole night. it’s the weekend shifts that midoriya dislikes- pity he’s forced to work at least one every two weeks.

a ring of the door can be heard from the other side of the store than him, he can see the group of people from the cameras next to the till. the group looks around his age, if not a little older, two men in dark clothing with coloured hair- a cheerful blonde girl, and another, quieter girl walking hand in hand with her.

midoriya can’t see much of their faces, but he can tell the quieter one is pretty right of the bat- he straightens himself up a little, maybe a little too eagerly.

he watches as the group walk around the stalls, grabbing snacks with alcohol and cigarettes- the tall one with the dark hair is very particular about his narcotics.

when they finally get to the till midoriya can smell the weed immediately- particularly from the men of the group. they’re being shushed as they approach the counter, being told to stay back as the pretty one continues forward to pay for their haul.

“hi- uh sorry about my friends- they’re a little out of it right now.”

izuku is even more enamoured by you as you get close to him- tired eyes and a slight smile- he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone more beautiful.

“uh- yeah it’s fine” he doesn’t say anything more- instead he stands stiff, eyes locked into yours, it’s not until your eyes make a quick look down to your basket of items that he remembers he’s at work- and that he has a job to do.

“oh sorry- let me ring you up quickly”

he’s trying to go as fast as he can- but his nerves are bubbling and he feels like an idiot for being so affected by one pretty girl. your making small talk with him, asking about his shift and when he gets off, he’s trying to answer the best he can.

“can I see some id please?” you have no problems taking out your id- handing it to izuku without a second thought, allowing him time to get your name, he forgets to even check that your above age until the very last second.

“uh- nice name.” he swallows immediately after saying it-

“oh! thank you-“ you pause, taking a moment to look down at his name card, probably so you return the favour. he curses that the nicknames that his work put in place for ‘safety.’

“uh- deku? thank you, your name is…” stupid, he thinks, it’s childish and idiotic. “pretty cute actually.”

that puts him at a standstill- it’s not even his real name but your compliment makes him freeze.

“well um- thank you for the service, enjoy your shift deku.”

your out the door with your friends before he can even answer- he doesn’t get a number, or a social media handle. Just an engrained image of your face and a name.

a name that read way to familiar- has he heard of you before?

it doesn’t matter anyway- he’ll probably never see you again after tonight, unless you take another late night trip to the gas station, izuku kinda hopes that you will.

it’s while now until another customer comes in, and even longer until the next, izuku has his headphones in in order to pass the time and it’s working pretty well. he can’t help himself but start to think back to school, finding himself hovering over the email his professor had sent him earlier.

would having a tutor really be that bad? maybe it’ll end up really helping him? he just needs to pass english this year and he doesn’t have to do it ever again, he can get through a few months of this right?

he opens the email after a long debate, still undecided on his decision to finally accept the offering of tutoring when the email attached catches his eye.

it’s a name- no it’s your name- the pretty girl with the weird friends name.

this has to be a sign- right? or maybe it’s a bad idea to only begin tutoring because you think the girl that’ll be tutoring you is pretty- maybe he should count his blessings that you don’t already think he’s some loser who’s failing english- maybe he should reject the tutor completely, or ask for someone different??

he doesn’t know- but he does know that he thinks your maybe the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and that you smiled at him, and you called his name cute- and he’s writing up a draft email to send to his professor that he’s finally came around to the idea of being tutored.

it’s fine- it’ll all be fine- and if it doesn’t work out then he’ll drop out of university and work in this stupid gas station his entire life.

really it’s far too late to send this email now-its entirely unprofessional. but izuku is so worried that he’ll pussy out tomorrow morning than he sends it anyway, at nearly 1am.

he wishes he was surprised when his professor emails him back within 10 minutes- seemingly ecstatic about the idea of izuku finally coming around- that he won’t regret it- he’s sure that this will do him a lot of good- he’ll be passing with flying colours in no time.

maybe this wasn’t a good idea- he’ll just have to wait and see. but izuku now has a chance to have any conversation with you, and that’s all that matters.

taglist: @rueclfer @crimsonrubie @lovernatashaa

[julianasversee]

. ݁𐙚 A DAY IN MY MCU DR

𓏲˚ ۪ morning routine

5:00 am

i have my alarm set for this time every week day so i have time for all my morning time activities!! i'll usually lay in bed for 15 minutes to allow myself to wake up and catch up on the notifications i had gotten throughout the night.

5:15/5:20am

this is about the time i force myself to get out of bed even though the thing i want most is to go back to sleep, i'll get out of bed and get dressed into some gym clothes, put my hair up in a ponytail braid, go down to the kitchen go make myself some breakfast and a fill up my water bottle.

5:30-5:40am

i'll make my way down to the training room to fit in a workout/clear my head and do some training with steve since he's probably been awake since 4am.

5:50-6:00am

i'll walk back to my room to have a shower to get all the sweat off and to not be stinky 🙂‍↕️, i will then get dressed for school, do my skincare/makeup routine, brush my teeth and all that jazz

7:00-7:30am

i will gather all the things i need for the day and put them in my school bag, pack some snacks for lunch and throughout the day, put on my shoes and i'm out the door by 7:30!!

𓏲˚ ۪ school day

7:30-8:10am

at this time i usually meet up with pete, ned and bri at the train station and i walk to school with them. sometimes if we're early enough we'll grab a coffee before school.

8:30-8:50am

form

i share this class with my girls mj, ave, lia and bri 💕and we just spend the whole time chatting lol this class usually lasts 20 minutes.

9:00am-10:05

english

i have this class my gorgeous ave, lia, mj and ned! this is probably one of my favourite classes because its one of my best LOL

10:10-11:15

history

i actually share this class with ned and my brother grayson! this is also another class that i excel in irl and in my dr 🙂‍↕️

11:20-12:25

AP chem

this class is shared with non other than my pookie peter!!! in this class i usually spend my time just annoying peter by passing notes with him and playing tic tac toe.

12:30-1:00pm

lunch!!!

i spend my time at lunch with ave, lia, bri, mj, peter and ned 🙂‍↕️the table we see in homecoming is the table we sit at and we just all talk.

1:05-2:15pm

gym

this class is spent with peter, ned and mj. though mj and i sit out half the time because coach does NOT care what you do with this class if you're not a sporty person.

2:20-3:25

free study

this is just essentially just a free period but you spend it at the library because its supposed to be used for catching up on assignments, homework or just study in general

3:30-4:00pm

end of the school day

the group will probably go back to mj's house to hang out for the afternoon after we get snacks and stuff. but sometimes we just walk to get food after school and go home after that, also sometimes i have work but i usually just work on weekends.

𓏲˚ ۪ nighttime activities

5:00-6:15pm

patrolling with spidey

sometimes peter will ask me to go on patrol with him around nyc, in his words "to kick ass together as a power duo". just beacuse im such a great best friend 9 times out of ten i will say yes.

6:45pm

home time!!

after patrol i'm sweaty as ever so the first thing i'll do is take a shower, get dressed again into my pyjamas and make my way downstairs to hang out with whoever is down there.

7:00pm

dinner time!!

the team and i try to have dinner together as a family everyday but it doesn't always work out like that so we try and keep our friday's free for family night. wanda usually cooks dinner for us and she allows me to help, its one of the things we have in common is our love for cooking!!

8:00pm

someone will usually put on a movie and all of us with just sit around and watch it, chat about our day, play some board games.

9:00-10:40pm

chatting with friends + homework and study

around 9:00pm is when i'll head back up to my room and i'll ask any of my friends if they wanna call and chat while we do our homework/study for any upcoming tests!!

10:50pm

i am sooo tired by this point and i can barely keep my eyes open so i'll go to the bathroom and get ready for bed!!!

thank you guys so much for spending the day with me!!

tags: @sphinx-n-friends @analyzingkotlc @avelineshifts @lcvalia !!

i changed some of the way american schools work to what i'm used to where i'm from because i am NOT from america.

THE ROSE GC SAW THIS FIRST!!!

last updated 24/02/2025

[forzarma]

world’s best teacher

lewis hamilton x fem! Reader x students

A/N: i couldn’t stop thinking about this so i had to do it😭(not proofread)

10 years ago, you found out you were pregnant. You were buzzing, but your happiness unfortunately didn’t last long as you discovered you had a miscarriage. Your life was miserable, but thank God, Lewis was with you through your ups and downs. After 12 years of marriage, you’re still together, stronger than ever.

After 3 years of your miscarriage, you decided to go back to work as a school teacher. After you got pregnant with twins in 2017, it lightened up your life.

You can’t say being a teacher is an easy thing, if you’re being honest, but you love your students to the moon and back. You even treat them as your kids.

Of course, they know that their teacher is married to one of the best F1 drivers in history, if not the best, and they love it. They don’t go a day without mentioning how you are their favorite.

They even met your kids multiple times before, during school events where you brought them with you.

“Good morning, everyone,” you say as you enter the classroom.

“Good morning, Ms.,” they say back.

You greet them as you wait for the others to enter the class.

“So, I want to discuss something with you guys,” you’ve said.

“As we all know, last exam, you guys really disappointed me with the results,” you continued.

“Hmm,” they hummed.

“And we all know the next exam is in one month, so I want you to prepare as best as you can. And I have a surprise for you: if you score above 90, you can pick any reward you want. It could be anything, for example, a concert ticket of your favorite artist, a paddock pass that comes with meeting the drivers, etc. Which means you’re going with me, or a football game ticket to watch your favorite team.”

Your students buzz with excitement.

“Really, miss?”

The room erupts with chatter, feeling their energy and determination.

A month later, you’ve already graded the exams. You stand in front of the class with a stack of papers.

“I’m really proud of all of you,” you begin. “You’ve worked really hard, and you guys did not disappoint this time, so let’s see the results.”

“First, Livvy, you’ve got a 92. What would you like as your reward?”

Livvy beams. “I want to go to a Raye concert.”

“Done,” you replied, making a note. “Jason, you’ve got a 95. What about you?”

Jason grins. “I want the paddock pass.”

“Excellent choice,” you wink at him. You always knew he was a die-hard F1 fan.

You continued down the list. “Olivia, 89, so close but still great job.”

Olivia nods, smiling. “Thank you, miss.”

“Finally, Nick, 91. What’s your pick?”

Nick thinks for a moment. “I think I’d pick the football match.”

“Alright,” you agree. “We’ll make it happen.”

After everyone has chosen their rewards, you gather them together.

“I want you all to know how proud I am of each one of you. You’ve worked incredibly hard, and you deserve these rewards. Remember, this is just the beginning. Keep striving for excellence, and you’ll achieve great things.”

After saying goodbye to your students, you head home, still feeling excited. When you walk in, you see Lewis, and you can't wait to tell him about your day.

You give him a big hug and say, "Lewis, today was amazing!"

Lewis smiles and asks, "What happened?"

You tell him all about it, from the rewards you gave to the happy faces of your students. Lewis listens carefully, proud of you the whole time.

"Wow, that's awesome!" Lewis says, giving you a kiss on the forehead. "I'm really proud of you."

You feel warm inside, knowing he's there for you. You spend the evening talking and enjoying each other's company. As you go to bed, you feel grateful for your life together with Lewis and the twins.

theycallmelivvy has posted

Liked by yn,lewishamilton and 3,268 others.

theycallmelivvy: MS y/n appreciation post🙏🏼

See 350 comments

jasonthecoolest: hail my glorious queen

whatthesigma: oh how i love her

yn: i love you guys🥹💕

f1.wags has posted

liked by f1.paddock,ynupdates and 350,679 others

f1.wags: apparently yn hamilton. Lewis Hamiltons wife has made some incredible promises to her students sources say she said if they got above 90 she’d reward them with whatever they like and some of her students chose the f1 race choice what an incredible teacher💕

view 78,572 comments

ibelieveinlestappen: oh my teacher could never

ilovelewishamilton: how i love her omgg

F1updates: god bless my queen

theylovejackey: THATS MY FREAKING TEACHER EVERYBODY

f1fantasy: that’s why there were some people we’ve never seen makes sense now!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

heya!! Was wondering if you had any tips for writing characters going through withdrawal? Sorry if it's a weirder ask, but would a symptoms list be possible? Thanks in advance!!

Writing Notes: Withdrawal Symptoms

Withdrawal - Substance-specific physiologic effects, symptoms, and behavioral changes that are caused by stopping or reducing the intake of a substance.

It is a pharmacologic symptom in which untoward physical effects occur when the drug is stopped or when it is counteracted by a specific antagonist

Substance Withdrawal - A syndrome that develops after cessation of prolonged, heavy consumption of a substance.

Symptoms vary by substance but generally include:

physiological,

behavioral, and

cognitive manifestations, such as nausea and vomiting, insomnia, mood alterations, and anxiety.

DSM–IV–TR identifies 6 drug classes associated with withdrawal:

alcohol,

amphetamines,

cocaine,

nicotine,

opioids, and sedatives,

hypnotics, or anxiolytics.

DSM–5 and DSM-5-TR list

tobacco in place of nicotine and

further identify caffeine and

cannabis as being associated with a withdrawal syndrome.

To be classified as a substance-withdrawal disorder,

the withdrawal syndrome must cause the patient significant distress and/or impair functioning (e.g., social, occupational).

Most patients with withdrawal recognize that readministering the substance will reduce their symptoms.

ALCOHOL WITHDRAWAL

Alcohol Withdrawal - Symptoms that may occur when a person who has been drinking too much alcohol on a regular basis suddenly stops drinking alcohol.

These symptoms tend to occur within 8 hours after the last drink, but can occur days later. Symptoms tend to peak by 24 to 72 hours, but may go on for weeks.

Common alcohol withdrawal symptoms include:

Anxiety or nervousness

Depression

Fatigue

Irritability

Jumpiness or shakiness

Mood swings

Nightmares

Not thinking clearly

Other alcohol withdrawal symptoms may include:

Sweating, clammy skin

Enlarged (dilated) pupils

Headache

Insomnia (sleeping difficulty)

Loss of appetite

Nausea and vomiting

Pallor

Rapid heart rate

Sweating, clammy skin

Tremor of the hands or other body parts

Delirium Tremens - a severe form of alcohol withdrawal. It can cause:

Agitation, irritability

Sudden, severe confusion (delirium)

Fever

Seeing or feeling things that aren't there (hallucinations)

Seizures

A continuum of symptoms and signs of central nervous system (including autonomic) hyperactivity may accompany cessation of alcohol intake.

A mild alcohol withdrawal syndrome includes tremor, weakness, headache, sweating, hyperreflexia, and gastrointestinal symptoms. Tachycardia may be present and blood pressure can be slightly elevated. Symptoms usually begin within about 6 hours of cessation. Some patients have generalized tonic-clonic seizures (called alcohol-related seizure, or rum fits) but usually not > 2 in short succession. Seizures generally occur 6 to 48 hours after cessation of alcohol.

Alcoholic hallucinosis (hallucinations without other impairment of consciousness) follows abrupt cessation from prolonged, excessive alcohol use, usually within 12 to 24 hours. Hallucinations are typically visual. Symptoms may also include auditory illusions and hallucinations that frequently are accusatory and threatening; patients are usually apprehensive and may be terrified by the hallucinations and by vivid, frightening dreams. Alcoholic hallucinosis may resemble schizophrenia, although thought is usually not disordered and the history is not typical of schizophrenia. Symptoms do not resemble the delirious state of an acute organic brain syndrome as much as does delirium tremens (DT) or other pathologic reactions associated with withdrawal. Consciousness remains clear, and the signs of autonomic lability that occur in DT are usually absent. When hallucinosis occurs, it usually precedes DT and is transient.

Delirium tremens usually begins 48 to 72 hours after alcohol withdrawal; anxiety attacks, increasing confusion, poor sleep (with frightening dreams or nocturnal illusions), profuse sweating, and severe depression also occur. Fleeting hallucinations that arouse restlessness, fear, and even terror are common. Typical of the initial delirious, confused, and disoriented state is a return to a habitual activity; eg, patients frequently imagine that they are back at work and attempt to do some related activity.

OPIOID WITHDRAWAL

Opiates or opioids are drugs used to treat pain.

Opiates are derived from plants and

opioids are synthetic drugs that have the same actions as opiates.

The term narcotic refers to either type of drug.

If you stop or cut back on any of these drugs after heavy use for a few weeks or more, you will have a number of symptoms. This is called withdrawal.

Early symptoms of opiate and opioid withdrawal include:

Agitation

Anxiety

Muscle aches

Increased tearing

Insomnia

Runny nose

Sweating

Yawning

Late symptoms of opiate and opioid withdrawal include:

Abdominal cramping

Diarrhea

Dilated pupils

Goosebumps

Nausea

Vomiting

These symptoms are very uncomfortable but are not life threatening. Symptoms usually start within 12 hours of last heroin usage and within 30 hours of last methadone exposure.

Withdrawal from opioids can cause:

Sweating

Chills

Anxiety

Agitation

Muscle aches

Insomnia

Abdominal cramping

Nausea

Vomiting

Withdrawal symptoms may increase in severity over 72 hours before beginning to ease. Unlike withdrawal from other drugs such as alcohol or benzodiazepines, withdrawal from opioids is uncomfortable but rarely life-threatening.

The opioid withdrawal syndrome usually includes symptoms and signs of central nervous system hyperactivity.

Onset and duration of the syndrome depend on the specific drug and its half-life.

Symptoms may appear as early as 4 hours after the last dose of heroin, peak within 48 to 72 hours, and subside after about a week.

Anxiety and a craving for the drug are followed by increased resting respiratory rate (> 16 breaths/minute), usually with diaphoresis, yawning, lacrimation, rhinorrhea, mydriasis, and stomach cramps. Later, piloerection (gooseflesh), tremors, muscle twitching, tachycardia, hypertension, fever and chills, anorexia, nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea may develop.

Opioid withdrawal does not cause fever, seizures, or altered mental status. Although it may be distressingly symptomatic, opioid withdrawal is not fatal.

The withdrawal syndrome in people who were taking methadone (which has a long half-life) develops more slowly and may be less acutely severe than heroin withdrawal, although users may describe it as worse.

Even after the withdrawal syndrome remits, lethargy, malaise, anxiety, and disturbed sleep may persist up to several months.

Drug craving may persist for years.

NICOTINE WITHDRAWAL

Common Nicotine Withdrawal Symptoms

Having urges or cravings to smoke

Feeling irritated, grouchy, or upset

Feeling jumpy and restless

Having a hard time concentrating

Having trouble sleeping

Feeling hungrier or gaining weight

Feeling anxious, sad, or depressed

Trying to quit smoking feels different for each person, but almost everyone will have some symptoms of nicotine withdrawal. When you stop, your body and brain have to get used to not having nicotine. This can be uncomfortable, but nicotine withdrawal can’t hurt you – unless you give in and have a cigarette. Over time, withdrawal symptoms will fade as long as you stay smoke-free.

CAFFEINE WITHDRAWAL

Caffeine intoxication and caffeine withdrawal are included in DSM-5-TR.

Caffeine use disorder, however, is in the section of DSM-5-TR for conditions requiring further research. While there is evidence to support this as a disorder, experts conclude it is not yet clear to what extent it is a clinically significant disorder.

Some signs of caffeine withdrawal include:

impaired behavioral and cognitive performance,

decreased or increased blood pressure,

decreased motor activity,

increased heart rate,

hand tremor,

increased diuresis,

skin flushing,

flu-like symptoms,

nausea/vomiting,

constipation,

muscle stiffness,

joint pains, and

abdominal pain.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 ⚜ More: Notes ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hi, it's alright. This is an interesting topic and quite important to portray in literature and other media. The symptoms depend on which substance/s your character has been using, but each person may also have different withdrawal symptoms. You can find more details in the sources. Hope this helps with your writing!

[seonghwaddict]

ateez fic recs!

🧸 lilo’s notes! here is a collection of works that i loved and thought everyone should read! works marked with a bear emoji are some of my favs. i’ll be updating the list, of course. this list contains both sfw and nsfw content, minors please interact accordingly.

hongjoong

he’s kinda hot — @ohmyamor

“After a decent run with your boyfriend, you finally decide to end it when his paranoia becomes too much. Except, maybe he wasn��t crazy. And now you have demon who refuses to leave you alone.”

demon!hongjoong, fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, please see content warning before reading, suggestive

lilo’s notes! i absolutely love demon!atz aus and i can testify that this is definitely one of my favs. everything about this was absolutely fantastic and i may or may not revisit it every few weeks

you’re hongjoong’s bias — @jnginlov

“when you and your group go on idol radio to promote your latest comeback, you don’t anticipate one of the hosts to be completely enraptured by you”

idol au, fluff, gn!reader

lilo’s notes! listen… idol aus are usually not my cup of tea (though several fics on here prove that wrong), but this is absolutely one of the cutest things i’ve read.

seonghwa

new horizons — @fivestar-outlaw

“Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.”

completed series, FLUFF, idol!hwa x nonidol!fem!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! EEEEEEE THIS FIC IS SO CUTEEEEEE

🧸 honest (but happy) accident — @ad0rechuu

uni student!hwa, gn!reader, fluff, slice of life

lilo’s notes! y’all are gonna get so sick of me cuz you’re gonna see multiple of zero’s fics on here. jokes aside, this is genuinely so fucking cute i was rolling around and giggling while reading it.

🧸 12:25 time of love — @jaehunnyy

kindergarten teacher!hwa, mom!reader, meet cute, fluff

lilo’s notes! imagining seonghwa in a job like that genuinely makes me so soft. whenever i’m in that Emotional mood i like to read this.

🧸 impressionism — @hwaightme

“a post-graduate student specialising in impressionism, you were a regular visitor to the many art galleries in the city. who knew that among the paintings you would encounter your favourite, timeless work of art?”

vampire!gallerist!hwa x art historian!gn!reader, fluff, soulmates

lilo’s notes! as an art history nerd, this fic is so beautiful especially when combined with a vampire au like AHHHH some of my fav things in one fic

yunho

early hours — @honeyhotteoks

“you run into him in the hallway of the hotel, it's late and you're exhausted from the concert, but he thinks you should grab a drink and you can't help but agree”

idol!yunho x nonidol!fem!reader, one night stand, nsfw, some fluff

lilo’s notes! HDJSJDJSJKF the way this had me glued to my phone and giggling should be studied.

🧸 principia and opticks — @bro-atz

“you're struggling with a specific class that's required for your major; but, luckily, your professor, professor jeong, has no problem helping you out outside of class” // “you and professor jeong yunho decided to continue your relationship secretly, only to almost get caught one day”

professor!yunho x student!reader (legal), nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! don’t judge me but i think professor x student (COLLEGE. LEGAL.) is such a good trope it’s always gonna have me running laps around my room.

bottle service — @bro-atz

“all yunho wants to do is fuck the bottle girl's brains out.”

big dick!yunho x small!afab!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! i have nothing to say for myself other than size kinks are hot. even more so when it’s related to yunho

christmas dinner — @a1sh1teruu

“it didn't just end with one dinner.”

ceo!yunho x secretary!fem!reader, fluff

lilo’s recs! THIS WAS WRITTEN FOR ME AGHHHHHHHH i love it so much i think about it at least once a week

🧸 summer nights — @honeyhotteoks

“he's your best friend and roommate, but during the heat of summer and the confinement of quarantine, you just can't seem to help yourselves.”

roommate!yunho, nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! i reread this yesterday and realised there’s a sequel. TRUST i will be devouring that as soon as i can

track 3: cyber sex — @highvern

whipped loser!yunho x camgirl!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! STOPPIJDIDJ yunho was so cute and shy in this i wanted to scream into a pillow

yeosang

🧸 lessons in intimacy — @honeyhotteoks

“you didn’t mean to actually meet the man who’s audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do”

camboy!yeo, nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! absolute perfection this was so sjsjjcjsjd i could feel myself slowly losing my mind

evolve — @nebulousbrainsoup

“more often than not, a life lived in Night City is carefully crafted, slotted firmly between preapproved lines—or it is if you value keeping it. whispers of freedom float just beyond the city's neon lights, and it's only through a chance encounter with the most unlikely of characters that you finally start to hear them.”

biker!yeosang x fem!reader, fluff, nsfw, some angst

lilo’s notes! despite it being 12k words i gobbled it up in a single sitting which is crazy tbh, it didn’t feel that long at all and i was so invested

san

🧸 prelude in e minor — @bro-atz

“your brain tells you to focus on your education, but your heart tells you to focus on professor choi”

professor!san, CELLIST!san, nsfw, angst

lilo’s notes! back at it with the professor aus yupppp y’all know me so well. i felt so many emotions while reading this i thought i was gonna go insane.

mingi

🧸 slowly, i’m going down — @yutasbellybuttonpiercing

“mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice or mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.”

college au, tutor!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! not only was this written so well, but it was so fucking entertaining. mingi is just so silly in this i love it.

angel eyes — @binniesbang

“Yunho teases Mingi when he trips over his words infront of a girl, he needs a little loving to make it better:((“

coffee shop au, fluff, comfort

lilo’s notes! AHHHHHHHH sobbing crying screaming this was so cute and soft i love this mingi

🧸 untitled — @teasteeper

“kissing practice with your best friend mingi”

best friend!mingj x fem!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! GRRRSGHDJDJD OH MY GOD mingi you ain’t slick at all- anyways, my turn when?

wooyoung

ribbon — @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

“You just love Wooyoung's dick, and maybe you wanted to make it look pretty like it truly is.”

daddy!wooyoung, nsfw

lilo’s notes! they be fucking but somehow it’s so??? cute?? really enjoyed this one 10/10

spiderman! — @cherrysoojins

“being spider-man comes with a lot advantages, but those advantages can have their disadvantages. like jung wooyoung not being able to show up to study groups to be able to see the girl he’s crushing on big-time.”

spiderman!wooyoung, smau + written, fluff, angst, crack. ongoing(?) series, last updated: july 7th, 2023

lilo’s notes! this was actually such a cute and fun fic and i really wished there were more chapters :c

backstage rockin’ — @a1sh1teruu

“after a late night of practice with the band, and with you lounging in the background. when his friends finally left, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself any longer.”

bandmate!wooyoung, nsfw

lilo’s notes! i think this was THE fic that awakened my love for bassists, that’s how good it was. zerda’s writing always has me giggling

jung wooyoung’s superpower — @ad0rechuu

best friend!wooyoung, fluff fluff fluff

lilo’s notes! ik i’ve probably said this a lot but this is ACTUALLY one of the cutest fics i’ve ever read i adore it so much

🧸 i’m just bein’ curious — @teeskz

“in which your friend wooyoung invites you over for a movie night”

pervy best friend!woooyung, nsfw

lilo’s notes! it’s short but if i said this didnt awaken something in me, i’d be lying. i reread it this morning and that’s what made me start this rec list

jongho

🧸 adorable — @i-luvsang

frenemy!jongho, gn!reader one bed trope, fluff, comedy

lilo’s notes! AHHHHH I LOVE RIA’S WRITING SO SO SO MUCH fluff by ria is genuinely so djdjdjsjd it’s got me giggling

untitled — @nateezfics

nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! i’m sorry but idc if they’re going at it, it’s so cute and soft?? they’re just so silly

multi

🧸 milky way — @ad0rechuu

“It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else…”

fanboys!hwasangi x idol!reader, smau + written, fluff, angst, suggestive, slow burn. completed series, 60 chapters + 3 different endings

lilo’s notes! i will never not be grateful that this series exists. it’s funny, cute, and angsty and i absolutely love it with my whole heart. i think it’s one of the first fics i read on tumblr, so it’s really special to me + i think this was part of the reason i got close to my lovely zero

🧸 blurred lines and lies — @yuyusuyu

the synopsis is really long

best friend!yeosang x fem!reader x best friend!jongho, love triangle, romance, slice of life, angst. completed series, 10 chapters + 2 different endings

lilo’s notes! words cannot describe how i felt reading this but i think it’s comparable to going through every stage of grief possible plus more. genuinely, one of the best fics i’ve ever read

strawberry mocha — @pirateprincessblog

“your favorite café has a new barista, and he seems oddly familiar, especially when you see his hands move when he prepares your favourite beverage”

barista!camboy!wooyoung x fem!reader, ft yunho, nsfw, angst

lilo’s notes! my thought process while reading was a cycle of “oh my god” and “what the fuck” in the BEST way possible. the writing is so good i wanted to reach through the screen a smack some characters, and hug some others

clair de lune — @atzfilm

“you’ve finally gotten the chance to enter “clair de lune”, a infamous night club to see the band hiraeth. but why did you feel like their eyes only watched you?”

yandere!ot8 x fem!reader, angst, fluff, nsfw. completed series, 8 chapters.

lilo’s notes! so iconic. if you haven’t read this, you better and that’s a threat.

murphy’s law — @atzfilm

“according to murphy’s law, everything that can go wrong will go wrong. Black holes circle each other until they collide and merge, a cataclysm so fierce, sends ripples soaring through the fabric, crossing thousands of kilometers within a fraction of a second, leaving behind a wave on the space-time continuum. That’s the simplest way you can describe meeting him. And yet, even that is an understatement.”

alien!ot8, multi x fem!reader (not ot8), soulmate au, fluff, angst, nsfw, check other warnings. completed series, 5 chapters.

lilo’s notes! another iconic fic by an iconic writer, we love to see it

mists of celeste — @hongism

“Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you.”

space pirate!ateez, multiple pairings, angst, fluff, nsfw, check other warnings. ongoing series, 49 chapters + additional content

lilo’s notes! i’m pretty sure everyone on tumblr who reads atz fics has seen this one at some point and it definitely deserves its hype. this is probably one of the best, well thought-out fics i’ve ever read and i believe it can definitely be considered better than many published books

🧸 hotel california and paradise gardens — @mint-yooxgi

“You can check out any time you’d like, but you can never leave.” // “Eternity means nothing if I don’t have you.”

yandere!demon!ot8 x fem!reader, horror, fluff, angst, nsfw, check other warnings. complete fic, 42 chapters combined

lilo’s notes! yeah i reread this every few months and i’m not ashamed to admit i’m obsessed with it.

outlaw miniseries — @hongism

individual parts for each member/unit, nsfw with a side of fluff and angst. ongoing series, 4/6 chapters

lilo’s notes! hi no i won’t shut up about hongism i think ive read everything she’s published and if i didn’t want to make this list diverse i would’ve just put a link to her masterlist and called it a day. seriously, highly recommended. my fav on this is the 2ho one.

from storm to sunrise — @ad0rechuu

“you and your boyfriend yunho wake up to find your other boyfriend mingi no where to be found”

fem!reader x bfs!yuyu and mingi, fluff, mild angst

lilo’s notes! zero try not to write something i’ll fall in love challenge, go! oh no you already failed because everything by user ad0rechuu is a masterpiece

🧸 hooked — @songmingisthighs

“A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your ‘relationship’ led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you?”

ot8 x fem!reader, smau + written, college au, fluff, crack, nsfw. completed series, 91 chapters

lilo’s notes! this is also one of the first fics i read on tumblr!! it’s definitely one of my all-time favs and it’s just such a fun read

🧸 unconventional first encounters with ateez — @bluehwale

ot8 headcanon, fluff, humour

lilo’s notes! i also reread this occasionally, the humour tag really is accurate

hongwooho — @yourfatherlucifer

idols!hongjoong, wooyoung, jongho x fem!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! the first time i read this (and all the times after that) i was giggling and rolling around on my bed. this kind if scenario is something i’d LOVE LOVE LOVE to see more of

sway with me — @luvt0kki

“former noble turned space pirate, wooyoung was now part of one of the most revered and hunted group of pirates of the galaxy. sure he’s only known them for six months but there’s only so much you could do in a ship when you travel from one planet to the next. the ship was their home, his home… and the members of this crew were friends that he felt he was fated to meet. // but he hasn’t met one person of the crew… and he didn’t know that.”

ot8 x fem!reader, space pirate au, nsfw, fluff. ongoing series, 5/?? chapters + 1 interlude

lilo’s notes! i gobbled the posted chapters up in a single sitting and it was honestly sososo good 10/10 recommend. i can definitely see this being added to my favs as soon as it’s done!

🧸 ¡arriba! — @teeskz

“being a bookworm, you’re used to your regular schedule of simply studying, eating, oh, and the occasional sleeping. it isn’t until one night, you find yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time, and soon get swept up in one of the craziest games you’ve ever heard. in hindsight, maybe you should’ve declined. but it was only supposed to last for one night. one, dirty night.”

hongjoong, yunho, san, mingi, wooyoung x fem!reader, college au, nsfw, part of a series (“T!TS UP”)

lilo’s notes! NO YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND I WAS GAGGEDDDDDD the way i had to pause multiple times to cool off while reading this it was so hot and something i didn’t know i needed in my life until i found it

[blues824]

I come to borther you! My moot!!! 💛

So I got this stupid idea, how about New year party prompt with the dormleads but it's reader having a overblot nightmare, all the overblot forms chilling like the gif below, reader wakes up in a cold sweat in the middle of history class, vowing to never sleep in that boring class ever again...

You requested: New Year’s Countdown + NYE Party

Includes Malleus. Gender-neutral reader.

“Look who’s finally here!” Someone exclaimed. Your head felt foggy, but you realized that you were tied up. The familiar smell of ink wafted through the air as your vision cleared. The voice belonged to Azul Ashengrotto, but in his overblot form. Didn’t you defeat him some time ago? Did he overblot again?? 

“Watch out, Ashengrotto, or you might make them pass out again,” Leona stated, a smirk on his face. You turned your head as much as you could, noticing that every single overblot victim that you helped take down was surrounding you.

“Looks like the Child of Man is already on the verge of fainting~” Malleus whispered in your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. You could feel all their eyes on you, looking at you like you were prey.

“Our dear Prefect has no idea when to keep their mouth shut and not interfere,” Riddle said in a rather condescending tone. “Maybe we can teach you.”

“Wait! It’s almost midnight! It’s time to get this celebration rolling, but first, Prefect Y/N L/N needs to make a choice out of all of us: Who are they to kiss when the clock runs out?” Jamil asked… No pressure, right?

You felt yourself being cut free from your restraints, rubbing your wrists to try and make the pain from the rope-burn go away.

“You have 10 seconds to choose who you kiss once the clock strikes 12,” Idia had a smirk on his face as well.

In sync, they circled you, making sure you wouldn’t be able to escape, before counting down. Sweat ran down your face as you circled, tears streaming down as well. You felt like the smell of the ink was suffocating you. You could feel the negative emotions in the room, and it was overwhelming you.

At the last second, you grabbed [Character] and smashed your lips onto his, throwing your arms around his neck. His tongue met yours as he dipped you down, and you could taste the ink. Then, you felt your arm be jerked out of nowhere.

~~~~~~~~

“L/N?”

You let out a gasp as you lifted your head from your arms, only to see that it was Ace, Deuce, and Grim, all looking at you with concerned faces. You realized that you had fallen asleep in class… It was all a dream.

As you got back to taking down notes, you realized the weird taste in your mouth. You tasted the ink from the rather passionate kiss you shared in your dream…