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[jaysbaefie]

simone says | sjy

synopsis: in which your highschool rival agrees to tutor you, on one condition.

genre: high-school rivals to lovers ?

pairing: high-school rival!jake x afab reader

warnings: dubcon (ish), dom!jake, bratty!reader, reader calls jake a 'twink' on multiple occasions, jake reads hentai, mentions of blackmail? restraining with a belt, light degrading, spanking, grinding, reader grinds on jake's shoe, lowkey manhandling, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), public sex, praising, hair pulling, p in v, orgasm denial - i think that's it..

wc: 9.6k+

a/n: this is my first fic on tumbler, so if something seems wonky i apologize i’m not familiar with posting on this platform. feel free to leave tips on how to post on this site because i struggled heavy…

──── ୨୧ ────

the look of disappointment plastered on your professors face made you wince.

"i'm sorry __ , but if you don't boost your grades then i have no choice but to demote you from debate team captain and take you out of your advance learning classes," he said apologetically.

you wanted to do nothing but to scream in his old, wrinkly and saggy face, this was so embarrassing.

you internally scold yourself for thinking this way of your professor, the man was nothing but kind to you these past few months given your terrible attendance and poor marks.

you had never come home with less than a 95% in your classes. nowadays, your happy with a shitty 60%.

you don't know what's wrong with you, your unable to focus on your studies and instead spend time ditching classes and attending parties. you had promised yourself that no matter where your friends had dragged you. you would make your education a priority, but as expected, that wasn't the case.

senior year of high school meant a lot of behavioural and social changes within both you and your friends, the shy and nerdy girls you once hung out with had done a complete 360 switch. the hangouts that once consisted of going to cute cafes and studying, ice skating, arcades and movie nights had quickly switched to getting drunk every other night and doing any possible substance that they could get their hands on.

you missed the days where the four of you wouldn't get black out drunk and fake sobriety to your knowing parents. you didn't particularly enjoy the party life that your friends were living, but you didn't hate it, and you surely wouldn't be missing out on it. yes, your studies should come first, but your a senior in high school only once in your life. which is what your friends repeated every time you rejected a party. so that's what you lived by, your only a senior in highschool once.

unfortunately, that same logic costed you your above average grades and perfect attendance record. you had to fix this, and you were willing to fix this mess in any way possible. even if it meant dropping to your knees for your professor.

you give the old man a once over, shivering and internally rejected that as a possibility.

"i'd rather fail and live at home for the rest of my life," you think to yourself, your body convulsing at the idea.

swallowing harshly you ask, "is there anything i could do to boost my grades?".

he looks at you with sympathy, leaning back in his chair as he thinks for a moment. "the only thing i could do to help you with your grades is to be present and help answer any questions you have. i could stay some time after class and help you with some homework but that's about it __, i'm sorry," he sighs.

asking questions with homework wasn't going to change your 57% into a 95 in 2 months. you needed to completely re-learn the material and start from the beginning. you didn't have notes and you didn't have a clue of what was going on in the class. none of your friends were in your classes, none of your friends were as smart as you.

unfortunately for you, you hadn't bothered to even make any friends in your advanced learning classes. you couldn't just go up to someone in your class and ask them for their notes, you were stumped.

"do you think you could set me up with a tutor? i know i'm asking for a lot right now but i want to switch this around," you beg softly, your hands clutched together. your professor knew how much potential you had, you had created a good reputation for yourself after all. you were the debate team captain, although you had been missing more and more meetings recently. you had one of the highest marks in your grade, often ranking first place in exams. you had never gotten into any altercations, a squeaky clean student record. lots of volunteer hours and good recommendations from professors that would guarantee you a spot in the most prestigious of universities.

your professor thinks for a moment, his bushy eyebrows furrowing as he debates internally. "i could set you up with one, but i'm not sure he'll agree to helping you this late in the semester," he replies wincing. "or at all..," he continues but your ears miss it.

a smile instantly makes its way onto your face, there's hope for you. you were sure that whoever this person was they would agree to helping you. you were nice to everyone, always respectful and helpful to your peers.

who would say no to you?

"he's one of my best students, following you of course," the professor continues, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he takes his thin glasses off his face. he gulps softly, knowing that suggesting this student to you and vice versa wasn't the best idea.

you on the other hand, begin to think of all the smart students you know of in your grade.

yang jungwon?

park sunghoon?

kim sunoo?

mentally trashing all of the candidates that you deemed dumb.

your professor interrupts your internal dialogue, "you're going to have to talk to him and come up with something that works for the both of you, that is if he agrees," he says.

"but i will send him an email, warning him that you'll be in touch with him soon," he adds on tensely.

you simply hum in response, happy with the outcome of the conversation even though it may not work out for you at the end. one thing about you was that you were confident, and you knew that a little persuading would get you far in life. you got along with all your peers, unfortunately not enough to ask for notes or help but enough to pass soft smiles in the hallways or a gentle nod of acknowledgment. you stayed in your circle of friends, rarely hanging out with other classmates unless a project or school assignment was involved.

with no questions asked you thank your professor profusely, your smile reaching your eyes.

your professor on the other hand looked at you nervously, letting out a tense laugh as he tells you to head to your next class. you hadn't asked who would be your tutor, and your professor was grateful. he didn't want to deal with your reaction and preferred to stay out of it but he knew he would hear from you soon and he'd rather deal with it later than now.

"now, head to class the bell will be ringing soon," he ushers. you smile and thank him once again before practically skipping out of your classroom.

your professor watches you leave, a soft sigh escaping his parted lips before he opens his computer. his mouse clicking on the schools mailing app, before punching in the letters of the students email.

he wrote a simple message informing him, no— warning, that's the word, warning him that you'd be in touch with him soon.

he sends the email and immediately signs off, hoping for the best. his two star students couldn't be fighting anymore, and if he had to play cupid then he'd play cupid, even if it was extremely inappropriate and unprofessional.

he could only hope for the best.

──── ୨୧ ────

you walk alongside your friends, your shoulder casually brushing against yoora's as the four of you head to the lunch hall.

"so you're really taking this grade thing seriously, huh?" jiya asks, her brows arching as she looks at you with a soft smirk.

you roll your eyes, "someone has to," you reply.

"who else is going to make a lot of money so they could keep up with their friends luxurious life style," you playfully snide. the reason your grades meant so much to you was solely because you didn't come from a privileged and wealthy background. to you, good grades meant a good education which leads to a good job and a stable source of income for both you and your family. this wasn't a choice for you, yet you had been treating it as if it was one and now your dealing with the consequences.

your friends came from wealthy backgrounds, grades weren't that important to them because they knew that no matter what their gpa was they'd have something to lean back on. whether it be inheriting a business or their parents providing pocket money till their last breath.

jiya's expression softens slightly, her manicured fingers brushing against your arm, "we're sorry for distracting you, __."

"we didn't realize how much this was affecting your grades," she continues. the others nod in agreement as they mumble soft apologies.

you were greatful for their understanding, they were aware of your financial situation but often forgot. it wasn't something you liked to bring up often, the looks of pity on their faces making you want to shrivel up and die.

there would be times where they'd offer to pay for your meals, clothes and even tuition because they thought it would help lessen your financial burdens, but instead it made you feel embarrassed and angry. you didn't want the pity so you rarely brought it up. this was your motivation to make money and step out of the hole that finances had made for you.

"we won't pressure you into going to parties with us anymore," hana says before quickly continuing, "but that doesn't mean that you can say no every time. you still have to go out with us, but we understand that right now your education is your priority."

you smile in response.

"so, who's your little tutor?" hana asks, flipping her dyed blonde locks over her shoulder as she searches her purse for her wallet.

the four of you had entered the lunch hall, your eyes scanning for a table as you begin to walk to the lunch line.

you shrug at her question, "no clue, i forgot to ask. but probably some nerd."

yoora laughs, "fellow nerd," she corrects with a teasing smile, bumping shoulders with you as you stand in line.

you roll your eyes playfully, "bitch."

"i just hope it's not a creep, like min youngjae," you shiver at the thought. min youngjae was a perv, sure he was smart and often ranked high in exam scores like yourself, but he was a total creep. he had been caught peering into the girls change room last year and hasn't been able to live it down since.

your friends giggle, "carry pepper spray on you if it happens to be him, heard he had the hots for you too.." jiya snickers handing the lunch lady some cash before picking up her tray.

you shiver, "i'm carrying mace if i'm paired with him," you mutter as you follow jiya with a tray of your own.

spotting a table the four of you beeline for it, the lunch hall started to fill up and spots to sit had become scarce.

sitting down the four of you ease into small talk which then becomes gossip. giggling amongst yourselves you don't notice a certain pair of eyes on you, watching your every move.

if looks could kill, you'd be buried 6 feet under by now.

a soft nudge makes you stop laughing, yoora smirking as she raises her eyebrows. she motions to the side of you with her head, you furrow your eyebrows, confused to what was going on.

turning your head your eyes are instantly met with the one person who you had issues with in this entire school.

co-captain of the debate team, soccer team captain, and your worst enemy—sim jaeyun.

you almost gag when he smirks at you. his stupid plump lips curling into a grin when he's sees your expression before his beautiful—no hideous face morphs into one of mock concern. your surprised when he gets up from his spot and starts to make his way to your table.

his lean yet muscular legs flexing with each step he took, he was still wearing his soccer shorts that he had been wearing during practice with a thin white t-shirt that outlined the shape of his torso when the lunch halls light hit him in a specific way. his hair was slightly damp with sweat from practice, he runs his large hands through his dark locks before he reaches your table and his crotch is in level with your face. you make a face of displeasure before you shift away slightly, trying to avoid starring at his dick.

"fuck do you want sim?" you sneer, holding in the urge to punch him in the throat when his grin widens.

how you wanted to punch his shit-eating grin, his perfectly straight teeth would fall out of his big mouth.

"what do i want? hm, a lot of attitude for someone who needs my help," he mocks playfully as he bends down so he's eye level with you.

your face twists into one of confusion, help?

"what are you talking about dickwad? i don't need your help," you spit, your cheeks heating up when you catch a whiff of his cologne. you mentally beat yourself for letting someone like him fluster you.

"oh really? so mr.kim didn't send me an email asking me to tutor his 'star student' ?" he pouts mockingly.

your eyes widen and your mouth parts in shock.

mr.kim you are so fucking dead.

jake watches your face twist into one of shock, enjoying your attitude fizzle as you stumble for words.

your mouth opens and closes like a fish on land, racking your brain for a snarky comeback, but to your luck your mind was blank.

he stares at your expression, he could see a million thoughts behind your eyes and it only boosted his confidence. he was the reason your bratty mouth was unable to form words to shoot back at him. the same mouth that would spew insults at him whenever he dared to even speak in your presence was now shut because of him.

he was eager to shoot you down when he had originally walked to your table, ready to reject tutoring you and make fun of you for being so dumb and careless of your studies. he had noticed what you had become recently, the seemingly hardworking and shy girl you once were around others, not him of course, had become an avid partier who didn't care about her academics and future anymore. however, now he had different plans, he knew how much you needed him and he'd use it to his advantage. what's wrong with a little fun? right?

jake stands up straight, "meet me in classroom 103 tomorrow afternoon lunch, don't be late pretty," jake coos playfully with a chuckle escaping his pink lips.

your internal debate ends instantly at his words, your face dropping as you begin to process his words. he wants to tutor you? pretty? confused you look at him and begin to open your mouth only to see that he has turned away and began walking back to his table.

his friends looking at him and you both confused and amused at the interaction.

what the fuck just happened?

──── ୨୧ ────

sim jaeyun has always been that cockroach that just won't die. no matter how many times you hit it with your shoe, or the rounds of bug spray you spray on its disgusting body, it survives.

first day of 8th grade and you two were already fighting over the dumbest things. the two of you shared a mutual friend, kim sunoo, and you wanted to sit next to him for math. little did you know, jake had similar intentions which resulted in a full blown argument between the two of you on why either of you should sit next to sunoo.

at the end, neither of you got to sit next to him.

then came budging in line, to you the fight between who gets to sit next to sunoo was your last interaction with jake. however, jake had other plans.

he would purposely budge in front of you in line and when you made a move to confront him he'd act like you simply didn't exist.

you realized quickly that he thrived off of your reactions and stopped giving him the satisfaction of getting angry at him.

grade 8 science class is where the two of you had begun to get competitive for grades.

"hey, what'd you get on your quiz __?" your seat mate whispered to you while holding onto his own quiz, hiding the grade from your greedy eyes.

biting back a grin you show him your test results, "a 93%" you whisper back. you were so proud of yourself, you studied hard for that mark and you were going to tell anyone who asked what you got.

you heard a snicker come from the back and you immediately knew who it was. you whip your head around to shoot the boy a piercing glare.

"93? that's it? i got a 96," jake brags with a smirk.

you could feel your cheeks redden with rage as you flip him off and turn back in your desk.

fuck that twink and his 96%, i'll show him.

and you did show him, next quiz you got a 100% and you made sure jake saw it.

"awe, a 94. how cute jakey," you mocked with a pout. you had left your quiz on his desk while he was in the washroom, making sure he saw it when he returned.

jake's fists were clenched and he could feel himself bubble up with embarrassment when he saw your perfect score. he rolls his eyes and chooses to not respond, which only fed your ego.

the cycle continues for years, and with your luck you shared almost all of your classes with jake. the two of you were some of the smartest kids in your grade and shared the same advanced learning classes, with the exception of extracurriculars. the competition between you two never ended and neither did the unusual tension.

when you became debate team captain jake was furious, he worked equally as hard for that position but he was made co-captain for his efforts instead of the real deal. he never complained publicly though, instead he tried to outshine you during weekly meetings. being extra nice to the members and trying to come up with better ideas and solutions to make you look bad.

you're still captain, so clearly he's not doing a good enough job.

you tried to avoid jake when you could, you saw him as competition and an enemy, that's it. well, that's what you tried to convince yourself. there was an undeniable attraction that you felt towards jake, and it made you want to kill yourself. fortunately for you, you were able to look past it and come to terms that you found him attractive and justify that his personality made him ugly.

however, jake didn't try to avoid you back. instead he seemed to 'run into you' and random times and ruin your day. at one point you were convinced that he was following you because of how often he would be at the same place at the same time as you.

many of your friends and fellow classmates thought of you and jake as an elderly couple that bickered amongst each other. the thought of dating jake alone made you gag and you tried to shut down their theories of sexual tension between the two of you right away. that however, didn't work and the theories continue.

"i swear, you two just need to fuck," jiya sighed as she slumps against her pillows.

all four of you had decided to go to jiya's house after school, it had been so long since you all had  hung out like a normal group of teens.

you choke on your drink, "fucks no," you look at her with wide eyes, shocked she would even say that.

jiya grins, she props herself up on her elbow to stare at you, "you know you feel the tension, because i sure as hell do. so do yoora and hana, hell, everyone at school does," she exclaims frustratedly, mad that her friend won't just take her advice.

you roll your eyes, "the only tension i feel that he's involved in is scoring higher than him academically, which i've been failing at recently," you respond with a groan.

finals were only 2 months away and if you wanted to pass with flying colours you needed to take up jake's offer.

"what if he's agreeing to tutor you because he wants to sabotage you," hana theorizes, gasping at her idea as she stares at you with her eyes wide and her eyebrows raised.

"i don't think he's the type to sabotage, he likes the competition and he likes to win fair and square from what i've seen," interjects yoora.

she had a point, jake had never played dirty. sure he was a dick, but he never tried to sabotage you. you were away for a week once due to a cold and jake had willingly given you his notes for that weeks lectures.

that only makes you wonder..

what is that twink up to?

you were confused by the entire interaction that took place in the lunch hall earlier, it wasn't odd for jake to be in your personal space, he did that a lot. however, the 'pretty' he added to the end of his sentence was what was throwing you off. jake had described you in a multitude of ways, ugly, witch, hag, dumbass, toad, and the list continues. but never has he called you something positive, let alone pretty.

"i don't know what his game plan is, but the only way i'm going to find out is by going to classroom 103 tomorrow."

──── ୨୧ ────

and that's how you find yourself outside classroom 103, your hands clutching the straps of your backpack as your nervously open the door.

you peer up making there wasn't a bucket full of liquid perched at the top that would fall onto you when you open the door fully. seeing that nothing was there you open the door and walk inside, seeing jake by the whiteboard at the front of the classroom.

his back facing you, you could see how well his clothes hugged his shape and you couldn't help but admire.

he was wearing his uniform this time, his white dress shirt was crisp and free of any wrinkles and tucked into the waistband of his pants. his sleeves were rolled up so his forearms were exposed, you felt your mouth water slightly as you saw the veins from his arms lead to his large hands.

"are you going to keep staring like a perv or sit down?" and the moments ruined.

you roll your eyes and walk up to him, slamming your backpack down onto the desk before folding your arms across your chest, "what's your game plan here, shitface?" you spit out.

jake chuckles, finding your attitude and actions cute. you thought you were intimidating but in reality jake allowed you to believe that you were in charge, it was the least he could do before he showed you who was really in control.

jake moves away from the whiteboard before leaning against the teachers desk that sat in front of the board with his arms in front of him, holding him up.

"game plan? what are you talking about __?" jake asks innocently, looking down at you with a pout.

you roll your eyes again, "listen, i'm not in the mood for this back and fourth thing you love doing okay? are you going to tutor me? yes or no?"

jake grins, moving away from the desk and walking up to you, similar to how a predator stalks up to his prey. you give him a dirty look when he stands in front of you, staring down at you.

"of course i'm going to tutor you __, it's the least i could do to help my fellow classmate," he coos mockingly.

"roll your eyes again and watch," he threatens, seeing your expression shift again. your heart stutters in your chest at his tone, a soft flush coating your cheeks.

he knew you to well.

you scoff, "cut the bullshit, i know you have an ulterior motive to this 'i'm a good person' persona you have playing right now. spit it out, what do you want in return?"

his grin widens, "if only you used your brain to pay attention and get good grades rather that theorizing about my 'ulterior motives'. maybe then you wouldn't be in this position," he snarks back, his face leaning closer to yours. you take a step back but he takes two closer to you.

if you hadn't known jake and were someone else you would've thought that he was going to lean in and kiss you right now with the way his breathe fanned against your cheek. he was to close, but this was just how jake was. always in your face and business.

"maybe if you weren't a little shit who didn't have dick up his ass every second of the day i wouldn't be aiming for your crotch right now with my knee," you spit back, your knee bent up and close to his crotch area.

jake rolls his eyes, taking a step back as a precaution in case you do decide to knee him where it matters.

"so? what do you want in return. don't say that fake shit you're scheming up in your head about how you're just a good person and care for all your peers," you mock in what you think is a good impression of his voice.

he smirks, "all i want from you is to play a little game with me __."

you quirk your eyebrows in suspicion, "what game...?"

"simone says."

you burst into fits of laughter, your eyes watering with amusement as you look at him incredulously, "what are you? 7? get a grip jake," you snicker, leaning against the deck for support as your body still shakes with silent fits of laughter.

"7 inches deep in your mom," he lamely mutters which only makes your body shake harder with amusement.

jake's expression remains the same, "suit yourself, you either agree to the game or you find someone else to tutor you. but you and i both know that no one is going to help re-teach you the way i can."

he wasn't wrong, you and jake regardless of your differences, learned the same way. his notes were thoroughly detailed and you had seen him help out peers before, he was patient and made sure that at the end of the lesson they grasped the concept well.

when you don't say anything he continues, "i miss the competition between us you know? seeing your grades plummet to shit wasn't as satisfying as i thought it would be," he admits as he inspects the classrooms surroundings, almost embarrassed at his own confession.

shocked at the sudden confession you look up at him with a teasing smirk, "how cute jakey."

he groans, "fuck this, i'm out," he makes a move for the door before you grab his wrist.

"okay, okay sorry. i'll play your dumb game, just tutor me shitface," you mumble looking anywhere but him.

jake smirks, the threatening to leave ploy always works.

you had not idea what you were in for.

jake was going to tutor you, there were no lies there. however, he deserved to get a little something out of it.. right?

the game was a mere excuse to him. years of back and fourth had gotten him no where and that had to change, and it had to change soon. who knows were the both of them would end up after graduation, he had to lock you in.

"we start after school today, meet me at the library right after the bell," he says before he quickly struts to the door, leaving you in the classroom by yourself before you even had a chance to protest.

then what was the purpose of this entire meeting? you could've just seen him after school to begin with.

dickhead.

──── ୨୧ ────

"no, no, no that's all wrong," jake sighs as he pulls the notebook from your hands and flips to a different page.

he was beginning to get on your nerves and you had to hold yourself back from slamming your fist into his face.

"well maybe if you teach me from the beginning instead of handing me questions to answer i'll do it correctly," you scoff.

"i need to know where you are in your comprehension to be able to teach you the proper material, you toad. that's why i'm giving you practice questions, which your eating shit at, so clearly i'm going to have to start from the beginning," he snaps back ,rubbing his eyebrows that had tensed up.

you could feel your mouth water slightly at the sight of his hands, long and veiny which looked sinfully good every time he held something. drooling over your academic rival and overall enemy wasn't something that you'd publicly admit, ever. not even to your friends who had their own suspicions of the two of you.

'sexual tension' they said.

"lets start from the beginning of the semester, unless you need i need to revise basic algebra for you too?" he mocked, his upper lip curling up in a sneer.

you give him a sickly sweet smile, you weren't that dumb you still remembered things you learned from previous years. new concepts were the issue for you, "hm, whatever you think is right mr.sim," you say in a mocking innocent tone, all while batting your eyes before turning your head so you're sure he's staring right at you.

jake swallows harshly at the honorific, his fists clenching before he sits up a bit straighter. clearing his throat he lets out a fake cough to distract you if you happened to notice his sudden mood change.

you hadn't noticed his change in behaviour, going back to staring at your textbook. you had forgotten about the situation as soon as your eyes landed on the question you were stuck on, ignoring the now tense boy that sat next to you.

to others you two seemed like a cute couple, studying together and occasionally bantering. the two of you sat closer together than you'd like, but you didn't bother moving away. your knees touching and occasionally rubbing against one another whenever jake decided to bounce his knee, which you had noticed over the last years was a habit of his when he was focused.

"i think you're smart enough to remember previous years of study, let's go over this again. this time from the beginning."

you had to admit, jake was a pretty good teacher. he made sure you understood every concept of the unit, asking you to re-explain them to him as proof. he was patient and kind with you, which you hadn't expected.

but now you were getting tired, peering up to see the time on a clock that was mounted neatly on the library walls it read 6:23. you had been studying for almost 3 hours.

"hey, maybe we should continue this tomorrow," you suggest before leaning back in your chair in an attempt to crack your back. your hands in the air lazily as you let out a soft yawn. wincing when you hear a crack, a soft moan leaving your parted lips.

jake's eyes widened at the sound momentarily, his tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips when he sees your position. your skirt rose up a fraction and your shirt shifted in a way that your stretching exposed a sliver of your pink bra strap and your collar bone.

jake scoffed in attempts of giving himself a reality check, looking up at the clock, "it's only been 3 hours, tired already?" he raises his eyebrow before cracking his knuckles, joining you by leaning back in the uncomfortable wooden library chairs. he could practically feel his butt bones hit the wood.

you look at him incredulously, choosing silence as a response before turning to grab your phone, checking your notifications.

this seemed to piss jake off, not only had you ignored him but now you had the audacity to go on your phone during his tutoring session that he so graciously offered you out of his free time.

"off your phone, __," he demands, now sitting up in his chair.

you ignore his warning tone, looking up from your phone lazily before scoffing, returning your eyes to your messages.

"__, i said something and i expect you to listen to me," he says again, this time his tone more annoyed than demanding.

"simone says, get off your phone," he tries.

you let out a giggle, looking up at him with amusement, there's no way he tried using that. "or what? huh? what happens if i don't listen to simone and what he says," you mock with a pout.

"i reconsider tutoring you, i'm making time out of my day to help you and you're being ungrateful and bratty. the least you could do is stay off your phone while we're studying and abide by my only condition, which was to play simone says," he spits passively.

jake wasn't an angry person, he was typically calm and collected and rarely ever raised his voice. but something about you irked him, every name you called him, every snarky response to his normal questions, every dirty look you gave him—all of it had him busting at his seems. his eyes would twitch with annoyance and his hands itched to take care of your bratty mouth, he of course, never acted on his thoughts.

but life seemed to work in strange ways, and unbeknownst to him he now had a chance to do what he's been itching to do.

"wow you must be so busy," you mock, your arms fake surrendering.

"i'm so sorry that i took precious time out of your day. time that you use to beat your dick to some sort of freak anime porn," you snicker, sure you kept your distance from him but you did some digging on the boy.

some say you're good with your hands, picking a lock with some pins was light work for you. you remember back in junior year jake had 'accidentally' taken your keys to the debate room, the keys that belonged to the debate team captain, you. you knew he was upset that you got captain instead of him and he had taken the keys out of jealousy.

at first you decided to let him keep them, out of pity, but what's the fun in that?

you did the most logical thing, you broke into his locker. while searching for the keys you came across a multitude of things, one of them being a small collection of interesting cartoons performing certain actions.

he was reading hentai. at school. no shame.

your hands shook with excitement when you saw the lewd comics, biting your lip to contain your giggles you flip the pages, quickly scanning the contents.

your eyes widened at the content, jake was into some kinky shit.

your mouth drops as you continue to snoop, giggling to yourself when you realize that you had hit the jackpot on blackmail.

pulling out your phone you took a few pictures of his locker and the porn books mr.goody two-shoes was hiding from the student body.

jake's eyes widen at your comment, how did you know?

seeing jake's reaction, your grin widens and you decide to test your luck, "didn't take you for a guy who liked bondage jakey," you giggle, biting your lip to hold back the booming laughter that threatened to leave your mouth.

"unless, it's you who's getting tied up.. i can see that," you tease before you begin to shake with laughter. you glance over in between fits of laughter to see jake's expression, which remained shocked, struggling to process the situation.

"but i'm not surprised, little bitch boys like you look like they enjoy being left helpless," you continue as you stare at his confused face.

you couldn't help but cross your legs to soothe the ache between your legs, the situation you were in and the power you held over jake's head had got you feeling some kind of way.

just when you thought you had control of the entire situation, perched on your little high horse and ready to prance around jake, his expression changed and he lets out a small laugh. 

your grin drops, confused to why he found the situation amusing.

"you know __, i respect that you tried," he says, you could see his eyes water as he bit back a smile threatening to appear on his face.

"this, just made everything i'm going to do a lot easier," he continues before he finally lets the grin he's been holding back pop onto his oh-so perfect face.

you look at him confused, "are you into humiliation too, jakey? i never would've guessed."

his grin only widens, he suddenly stands up from his chair and slams his hands on the library desk.

luckily, the library had emptied out slowly in the last few hours and only a few students remained in the large spaced area.

"what are you do-" you began before the words were knocked out of you.

literally.

grabbing you by the back of your neck, jake pulls you up and pushes you face against the desk.

and suddenly you were regretting picking the most secluded section of the library.

"what the fuck are you doing?!" you try to say but the words come out as sloppy and squeaky due to one side of your face being glued to the desktop.

you hear his breathing get heavier but no reply comes from him.

suddenly, you hear rustling of his belt and a click, indicating that he was now taking it off.

instead of fear, excitement rushes through you and you squeeze your legs together in anticipation.

jake sees this and grins, "dirty bitch," he sneers before impatiently yanking his belt off, letting go of his grip on the back of your neck—quickly grabbing a hold of your arm.

you let out a small squeal when you feel him roughly tug your arms behind your back, securing your arms with his belt.

you let out a small hiss of complain when he tightens the belt a bit to tight to which he only chuckles in response.

his hands bury themselves in your hair, yanking it so your face is no longer against the table and instead the crown of your head was touching his chest.

you could feel him ground himself against your behind, your eyes widening when you feel him push against your ass.

"you see how you're bent over a desk with my belt tied around your wrists and left all helpless, not me?" he whispers harshly in your ear, his breath tickling your skin making a shiver run through your body.

you unconsciously push yourself further back into him, a low groan leaving his parted lips.

"beats me, your the one that got hard from me degrading you, bitchboy," you snicker, wiggling your hips against him, finding the whole situation slightly amusing. you were really pushing it and you'd soon realize it.

your laughter dies down when you feel one of jake's hand slither down to your legs, softly running his fingertips along the plush of your thighs and nearing your crotch.

you shut your eyes when you feel his fingers graze against your underwear clad heat. a soft moan escaping your parted lips when he presses firmly against your clit, moving his finger up and down.

"and what about you, __? you've already soaked through your panties. and i've barely even touched you," he teases with a coo. you could feel him smirk against your ear, his fingers still running up and down your slit making your legs shake at the pressure of his actions.

when you don't answer he grips your hair harder and makes the pressure between your legs firmer, "are you not embarrassed, __?" he asks, his grip on your hair disappears and you fall back onto the desk with a soft thud.

"you're allowing yourself to be bent over the counter by someone who you swear up and down you hate," he continues, now pulling his hand away from your cunt making you whimper at the loss of feeling.

he smirks, "but i have a feeling, that you don't really hate me."

you look back at him before pulling your face into a sneer, "fuck yo-" you began but before you could finish a loud smack silenced you.

your skirt was flipped up and jake had made his hand comfortable on one of your ass cheeks. "you wanna try that again?" he asks, his eyebrow raised as his tongue pokes his cheek.

you were no one to back away from a challenge, "i said fu-"

smack!

smack!

smack!

"say sorry," he commands before landing another hard smack. you shake your head, biting your lip so hard that you swore you could taste blood. seeing you shake your head, he only grins, "suit yourself."

he landed hit after hit, smack after smack until you were sobbing and babbling over your own words. as much as it hurt your pride to apologize, you would have to or you'd drown in your own tears.

"i-i'm sorry," you manage to push out, you laid your head on the desk waiting for jake to say something.

"that's my good girl," he coos softly, his hand now massaging your bruised cheeks. you let out a small whimper at the feeling, you were sure that you wouldn't be able to sit down properly for weeks.

a small choked sob escapes your mouth when he begins to kneed the sore spot a little to rough, "does that hurt angel?" he coos softly while places soft kisses down your clothed spine.

you nod shakily, "that's too bad, but i know a strong girl like you can take so much more."

and just like that you were pulled off of the desk and pushed down onto the floor, a hiss leaving your mouth when the rough carpet of the library scratches your knees.

"now, you're going to stay true to your part of the deal," he begins before stopping, admiring how helpless you looked as he stares down at your tear filled eyes and flushed pink cheeks. how he has imagined you in this exact position hundreds of thousands of times for so many years, and here you were in front of him just how he dreamed.

all those times he's fucked his fist to you when you made him angry, which was every single day. now, he was granted with the opportunity to fuck you and your mouth, and you best believe he was going to take full advantage of it.

his hands fumble with the zipper of his slacks, rushing to pull them down and allowing them to drop down to his knees.

you're eyes widen momentarily when you see his bulge straining against the fabric of his dark grey boxers. you look up at him only to be met with a look of need and urgency, you would say that he looked cute if his dick hadn't hit your cheek when he pulled down his boxers.

"simone says, suck my dick."

you gulp, moving your head back slightly to get a good look of what you were working with only for jake to thread his fingers into your hair and force his dick into your mouth.

you immediately gag, your eyes watering as you struggle to adjust to his length. you hear him groan when his tip touches the back of your throat, the sound only motivating you to swallow around him.

"fuck,__. you look so good with my cock stuffed in your bratty mouth," he moans out, his hips now slowly moving in and out of your mouth as a mixture of your spit and his cum leak out of the side of your mouth.

you only moan in response to his harsh and unforgiving thrusts, the sounds vibrating against him.

"look at you, angel. so good for me, taking me so well. if i had known this is the best way to shut you up, i would've done this a long time ago," he grunts out, his hips stuttering when he feels your jaw slacken to take more of him on easier.

"hauling your bratty ass into the nearest room and fucking your throat raw, making you beg for my cock to stretch you out."

you moan at his words, your thighs squeezing together to try relieve the pressure and ache that was building between your legs. jake notices this and smirks, his leg moving to slide between your thighs.

your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion but before you could think more about it jake begins to snap his hips faster. tears run down your cheeks, if your makeup wasn't smudged earlier, it was surely gone now.

suddenly, you felt pressure against your core, and you knew it was jake. he was able to get you to sit yourself onto his shoe, giving you a look that read 'you know what to do', and you did.

as shameful as it was, in the moment you didn't care. you allowed yourself to grind yourself down on his shoe to get some sort of relief, hips snapping to chase your high which was approaching embarrassingly quick.

"you're such a good girl, __. grinding yourself down on my shoe, getting yourself off while you gag around my cock. so fucking dirty," he moans, his head tilting back as he feels his high approach quickly.

you attempt to bob your head but jake doesn't let you, his grip on your hair tightening as he holds your head still. "m'gnna cum, f-fuck," he stutters, his thrusts now getting sloppy.

he then suddenly pulls out from your mouth, you whine from the loss of his cock, he smirks before he begins to ride out his high with his fist. "open your mouth, stick your tongue out," he demands, panting as he desperately fucks his hand.

you couldn't help but admire the view, jake's face was contorted into one of pure pleasure and bliss.

"you look so eager for my cum, yeah? is that right, pretty girl?"

you do as you were told, peering up at him as you continue to grind yourself down on his shoe. "f-fuck, you look so pretty. m'gnna nut all over that pretty face, angel," he pants and just like that thick ropes of his cum coat your face and tongue.

you flinch at the feeling before you swallow what was on your tongue—licking your lips at the warm and slightly salty flavour. a whimper leaving you when jake moves his foot away just when you were about to reach your own high.

he smirks in response, using two of his fingers to tilt your chin to admire the mess he has made on your face. "so pretty, my pretty girl. you were so good for me, and you know what happens to good girls? good girls get rewarded." fortunately for jake, you were too cock drunk to properly comprehend what he was saying.

jake pulls you up, you struggle to stand as you wobble slightly but he grabs your arms as support. he admires you quickly before pulling you into a searing kiss, his hands resting on your waist before moving them up to cup your face.

"so beautiful," he says in between kisses, the words making you feel lightheaded. you didn't know if he meant those words or if he was saying them in the heat of the moment, regardless you basked in the praise.

his hands move to your back, fumbling with the belt that was wrapped around your wrists. you almost moan in relief when he removes his belt from your hands, letting them rest by your sides. however, jake doesn't let you relish in that feeling of relief for long before his hands find their way to the back of your thighs, hoisting you up into his arms and then onto the table.

you let out a small gasp when jake drops to his knees, spreading apart your thighs roughly before moving between them. he's face to face with your panty clad heat, your hands immediately move to try and cover yourself but jake was not having it. he pushes away your hands and instead grabs your thighs to pull you closer but you try to shut your legs before he could slot his face between them.

"simone says, spread your legs."

even if you didn't obey, he'd still make you. it was an illusion of choice.

you hesitantly relax, allowing jake to manoeuvre himself between your thighs so his nose brushed against your covered slit.

the sight was erotic, jake looked like he was in heaven when he saw the giant wet patch on your panties.

"you've made a mess, fuck angel," he groans before he's pushing your underwear to the side, his nose poking your clit before you feel his tongue on you.

you let out a squeak when you felt his fingers dig into your thighs as he leaves no part of you untouched with his tongue. he moans into you, the vibration of the sound making you squirm in pleasure.

using his ring and pointer finger, he spreads your lips to get a good look at you, "you're even better than i imagined," he murmurs softly which falls deaf to your ears before resuming his actions.

you tried to keep your moans down but had a hard time doing so when you felt his tongue draw the figure '8' on your clit repeatedly. "f-fuck jake, s'good," you slur out, your grip on his hair tightening.

your hands find there way into jake's dark locks, his eyes rolling back in pleasure when you tug on them. "who knew a slut like you tasted so good," he says but his words come out muffled and only added to your pleasure.

he grins against your sopping pussy, his actions getting firmer and faster when he feels your body quiver and your moans get increasingly louder.

you release jakes hair to cover your mouth in an attempt to silence your moans, however, he didn't like that. you're eyes roll back when you feel him push a digit into your soaking cunt, all while focusing on applying firm pressure to your clit with his tongue.

you could feel your high approaching quickly, which was expected due to your denied orgasm just a few minutes ago. you look down at him for a moment only to meet his eyes already staring right at you, the stare causing you to buck your hips against his mouth as you shamelessly chase your high.

"so pretty baby, so pretty when you grind your slutty pussy on me," he groans as he slurps you like a starving man. he could tell you were close, the look of pure pleasure and concentration on your face gave it away. the way your hips bucked against him drove him crazy, his dick straining against his boxers once again.

"m'gnna cum," you moan, your hands reaching down to grab a hold of jake's hair again—making him groan in pleasure. "please jakey, can i cum? please let me cum," you whined, bucking your hips against him feverishly.

you could feel him nod and that was enough for you to let go. dropping your head back you let out low moan, eye rolling to the back of your head as you feel yourself come undone over jake's face and tongue. "that's it pretty," he says against you, his mouth still on you—helping you ride out your high.

still coming down for your orgasm you feel yourself being pushed to the edge of the desk, your legs hanging over momentarily before you felt them wrap around a torso.

jake leaves no moment to spare, his hands coming down to unbutton and yank off your shirt—letting it fall somewhere on the ground. a groan leaves his mouth when he sees your baby pink bra, hugging your tits so perfectly that he was jealous that his hands weren't doing that job.

"so pretty, __," he mumbles, pulling down your bra enough for your tits to spill out. his tongue comes out to wet his lips before he's bending over to take one of your pebbled nipples into your mouth.

soft moans slip out of your mouth when he alternates between both of your breasts, taking one into his mouth while he fondles the other one with his hand. your breath hitches when you feel jake grind into your exposed core, his hand coming down to let his cock slip out of his boxers so he could slide his dick against your folds.

"so wet for me," he groans, popping one of your nipples out of his mouth to stare at your face. saying you looked fucked out was an understatement, hair was messy and your makeup was completely gone. but jake thought you looked as beautiful as ever.

"jakey, please," you beg, moving your hips to try and catch his cock. jake grins, "look at you, __. begging for my dick, begging for the dick of someone you hate."

you hated how smug he looked, and all you wanted to do was bitch back at him and show him his real place. however, you wanted his dick in you more.

jake moves back, towering over your frame before he taps the fat head of his cock against your puffy folds. a hiss leaving his mouth when he watches your hole tighten over nothing.

"i've been waiting to do this for so long, __. you don't even know it," he says before he's plunging into you, not letting you think to much about what he said.

gripping your thighs tightly, he bottoms out completely, leaving your mouth hanging in an 'o' shape while jake lets out smalls grunts—feeling your walls flutter around his length.

"so big," you moan, your hands reaching out to grip jake's shirt as he snaps his hips into you ruthlessly.

jake feels as if he's about to combust, after years of back and fourth, countless arguments and rivalry— he was buried deep inside you. this was exactly what he wanted from the beginning, but teenage jake didn't know how to articulate his feelings and made his crush think of him as an enemy rather than a love interest.

he watches your tits bounce with every stroke, mesmerized by the sight. he could get used to this, and he will.

"so good for me, pretty. taking my cock s'well," jake slurs, the sound of skin slapping filling the library. he was surprised that no one had caught them yet, but he wouldn't stop even if they were.

you feel the table move with every thrust, your back arching as you claw at him at the feeling of being so full. the wet sounds you were making when jake began to rub circles on your aching clit made you moan out.

never in a million years would you have thought you'd be in this position, sure, jake was a star in some of your dirty fantasies but you'd never act on it. to think the nerd knew how to fuck, you were a bit surprised at how fast his hips moved and how he pounded into you ruthlessly.

"look at you, taking me so w-well," jake groans, his balls tightening as he feels himself approaching his high quickly. he begins to rub your clit firmer as his pace quickens and strokes get deeper, making sure you could feel every inch of his cock in your dripping wet cunt.

he could feel you tighten around him and he knew you were close as well. his hand comes to wrap around your neck, pulling you up from the desk so your face to face with him—his thrusts not slowing down.

"fuck look at you pretty, all ready for my cum," he murmurs before he pulls you in for a scorching kiss—swallowing your moans.

"you gonna cum, pretty?" he asks as he feels his stomach tighten with every stroke, watching you bite your lip as you try to match his thrusts. you nod frantically at his words, "m'gonna cum, jakey. please make me cum," you beg softly as you hold onto his shoulders for support.

"yeah? gonna cum? cum for me, pretty," he mumbles against your lips before he lands a smack against your throbbing clit. your body shakes as you come undone, jake's high following soon after. you could feel his hot cum shoot into you, the feeling leaving you breathless as he continues to fuck into you—making sure you milked him dry.

he pulls out of you gently, cursing when he watches his cum fall out of your fucked out cunt and onto the desk. "did so good for me, pretty."

you lay limply on the desk, your body twitching ever so slightly as you come down from your high—still in shock of what happened.

before your had a chance to gather yourself and ask the question: what now? he beats you to it.

"simone says, go out with me."

— enjoy this fic? check out my other ones right here !

[realcube]

dilf december

day twenty-two ⭑ kotaro bokuto ⭑ snow man!

tw: fluff, reader gets picked up, slight flashing & age gap

bokuto was terrible at maths.

so it was only natural that he would need to hire a tutor for his kids as soon as they progressed past bokuto's level of numeric ability and he could no longer help them with their homework or topics they were struggling in. hence, as soon as they returned home with worksheets about fractions, he immediately went online to find a private tutor.

however, he went on a website that had pictures of the tutors alongside their names and qualifications, meaning that he inadvertently treated his search more like a dating site than a recruitment process. that is how, despite being able to afford a tutor with a phd in maths and a masters in education, he chose you — a struggling college student who charges prices on the lower end of the scale, since you had yet to attain a teaching degree.

he couldn't have made a better decision though! by now, he had hired you for around a year, thus he has gotten to know you quite well and he can tell you work exceptionally with his children — you teach them in a way that is both comprehensive and engaging, and their grades have seen a massive improvement because of you. he couldn't be more grateful.

today it was a cold winter afternoon, and you had just finished up a lesson with his children. bokuto doesn't like to hover during the sessions but he wants to stay nearby in case you need something, so he was currently in an adjacent room and is able to overhear you say your goodbyes to the kids, as well as them packing up their textbooks and scampering off to their rooms.

he peers into the room, seeing you at the dining table, packing up your equitment. you notice him, so he offers you a bright smile, "how'd it go?" he asks.

"good." you chirp, slipping your laptop and pens neatly into your backpack, "we're working on geometry right now. they both seem to understand area, so we will work on volume next week."

bokuto has no clue what any of those words mean — he may have if you asked him 20 years ago, but not anymore — he's just glad to hear that his children aren't struggling. "volume, already?! woah, i've got a pair of little genius' in my house!" he joked, crossing his arms over his chest and walking towards the window, "that's all thanks to you, though. i'll tell them to mention you in their speeches when they accept the noble prize."

you laughed with him, and there is a little flutter in your stomach as passes you, and you not only catch the lingering scent of his fresh cologne, but you also get a peek of his muscular back — you were aware that he was a retired volleyball player, but it still astounded you how he was able to remain in such an impressive shape. it was so tempting; all you could think about when he was in the room was how much you'd like to be squished between his biceps.

while he talks away, he peers out the window that overlooks the driveway, and frowns. one of the cons of owning such a large house is that it comes with an equally massive driveway, which you always insist to park at the bottom of because you don't want to 'intrude on their space', even though bokuto has assured you several times that you're welcome to park where ever you like and parking closer would surely be more convenient for you. however, he's unaware that the real reason you continue parking so far away from the house is that you don't want to park near the rest of his expensive cars and risk damaging one of them, but you keep this secret to yourself as you don't want him to think you're an incompetent driver.

anyway, during the two hour session you had just completed with his children, it has been raining, and although it had ceased by now, the cold weather in tandem with the damp ground has rendered his entire driveway an icy slipping-hazard! to get to one of his cars could be feasible, but your car was quite a distance away, which would be a very perilous journey.

"the ground outside looks so icy.." he muses, and you shuffle up behind him, peering out the window over his shoulder.

"yeah.." you mumble, staring worriedly down at your uggs had barely any grip on the sole, indicating that you had a better chance at successfully ice-skating back to your car than walking. of course, you didn't want to complain in front of bokuto, so you said, "i'll be fine. a little fall never hurt anyone."

you make the comment with a tinge of amusement and banter in your voice, but bokuto just stares at you in horror, until he refutes with, "you could get really hurt, (y/n) and we don't want that." his parenting instincts kick-in as he explains to you the potential danger and gravity of the situation. as he does so, he guides you to the foyer, where there is a rack of shoes, and he picks up a thick pair of boots on the top shelf, "i bought these ice shoes online. they are supposed to stop you from slipping on the ice."

you nod, about to open your mouth to say 'thank you', but you catch yourself just in time, as — instead of handing them to you, like you expected — bokuto hastily straps the shoes on himself. shocked by this decision, you stagger, "oh, so are you going to walk out to my car and drive it closer?"

you stumble out the first possible idea that comes to your mind, even though it wasn't especially well thought-out. bokuto scoffs as he continues to properly fasten the ice boots, "if i did that, your car would slip and slide all over the place, no?" he asks, and though it may have sounded like a rheatorical question, bokuto was genuinely asking if he corrected predicted the outcome of that situation, which he did.

you furrow your brows, perplexed as to what course of action he planned on taking, so you finally ask, "how am i going to make it to my car if you are the one wearing the non-slip boots? shouldn't i put them on?"

he shakes his head, standing up straight and stomping each foot to ensure that he equipped the boots thoroughly, and he smiles as they remain secured to his feet. "i'll carry you!" he states merrily, like it was no big deal.

meanwhile, all the air was knocked out of your lungs at the mere thought of him carrying you. he must've quickly noticed you becoming light-headed and dissociating, as he inquires, "uh, (y/n), are you okay?"

you gulp down the lump in your throat , and it leaves a harsh sting of anxiety in its wake. "i'm fine, it's just i th—"

"okay, cool. let's go!" bokuto cheers before you are able to finish your statement, and in one swift movement, he scoops you up in his arms and effortless thrusts you straight over his shoulder, so your legs are dangling by his front and your upper body was against his back.

however, not only was this position causing all the blood to rush to your head, but also you were bend over while in a skirt which you could feel had rode up slightly, while bokuto's arm securely wrapped over your thigh, preventing you from pulling it down. so, before bokuto could possibly step outside and accidently expose you to his neighbours, you roughly squirmed in his grasp and protested, "bokuto! skirt!"

that was all you were able to manage while vigoursly wrestling out of his grasp, but thankfully that was enough to convey the message to bokuto, and he swiftly changed your orientation, so one of his arms was now hooked under your shoulders and the other beneath your knees — carrying you bridal style. he flashed you an awkward smile, and croaked, "my bad!"

"it's fine.." you mutter, subtly adjusting your skirt to protect your modesty.

"ready to go?" he asks, giving your shoulders a slight squeeze for emphasis.

"i guess so."

he nods. even with you in his arms, he is still able to extend his arms forward and pull the door open, and shut it behind him. then, slowly but surely, he begins to make his way down to your car. slowly but surely, one step at a time, making sure every movement is precise and calculated, without any rush.

your heart was beating a hole in your chest. you still couldn't fully process the fact you were being carried like a princess to your car by the dad of the kids you tutor. truthfully, you've always had quite a thing for the older bachelor, and you suspected he had similar feelings towards you, but considering the age difference, you always assumed that your relationship would never exceed mild flirtatious comment and chatter.

yet here you were; tucked safely in his strong arms as he carries you like a precious, weightless artifact down his driveway.

bokuto must've misread the excitment on your face for fear, as he chuckles, "you look so scared, (y/n). think i'm gonna trip or something?" he gazes down at you with his cheerful, honey eyes. when you reciprocate his comment with only a terrified look, he continues, "don't be. i won't let anything bad happen to you." and what made you're heart melt for him is that you could tell he was being sincere; with every slow, laboured movement, and the way his eyes were glued to the path in front him, you could tell he was diligently trying to keep you safe.

you still didn't respond, and the journey wasn't getting any quicker, so he attempts to make casual conversation, "this reminds me of my second wedding."

"second?" you ask in shock, under the impression he had only been married once.

"yeah, second wedding." he muses, recollecting of the events of the night, "she wanted me to carry her down the aisle to the carriage that was going to take us to the hotel, but we got married in the alps on a very snowy day, so that took a while."

"oh." you hum, entertained by his story but discontented that he didn't mention anything about the fact he had been married a second time, "did you book your wedding on a snowy day on purpose?"

"no, but it was fun anyway."

"that's good." you mumble, and since it was your turn to make idle coversation, you ask, "do think you'll have your third wedding while it's snowing too?"

he furrows his brows together in concentration, and recollects, "hm, no. my third wedding was on the beach."

was?! surely you must've misheard him, or maybe he just mispoke. there was no way he had been married three times. you wrack your brain for a way to ask for clairfication without seeming too overt or nosey, eventually staggering out, "so, where will your fourth wedding be?"

he blinks, then responds, "i don't know. but i know it will be my last one, and i'll have the most beautiful bride." his eyes momentarily avert from the icey pavement in front of him, only so he can meet your longing gaze. the moment is fleeting, before he returns to carefully trudging over the ice, but it fills you with an immense warm and comfort. something about resting in bokuto's arms and him looking at you with such a sweet glint in his eye was so wholesome, and it made you want to stay in this exact position forever.

therefore, you were almost disappointed when he finally reached the car, "we're here." he states gleefully, shooting you a playful wink as he says, "told you i'd get you here safe and sound, didn't i?" then, with great care, he slowly lowers your legs to the ground and gently places you down, keep a hold of your waist in case you fall over while finding your balance.

your hand finds it way to his bicep as you stable yourself, and you say, "thank you so much; you really didn't have to do all that for me."

"of course i did. i wasn't going to let you get hurt in my driveway." he shakes his head definitively, "it's not like it was hard, anyway. i might start carrying you into the house as well. would ya like that?"

he teases, and he can tell your answer from the way you tense up in hands.

[batbux]

"Sometimes I forget they're gone."

Bruce looks up from work - a crossword he's doing to pass time until the gas chromatography finishes - and over to where Tim is rolling back and forth in front of a secondary terminal. The steady squeak of his chairs back wheel was almost meditative in a way. He stared up at a blank screen, face only illuminated in profile by the gentle glow of Bruce's own terminal.

"Who is?" Bruce asked when Tim didn't elaborate. For all that this was functionally his home now, the boy had a tendency to occupy space in a way that made Bruce's jaw ache from biting his tongue.

"My parents." Tim stopped rocking and the Cave was as silent as a grave between them. One grave in particular. "Like, something happens and I think, oh, Mom would love to hear about this. Or Dad would get all huffy and rant over something silly and it would be fun to listen to."

Tim, who loved his parents and, arguably was loved in return. He spent most of his time in his room or the Cave, exploring other rooms in the Manor like his parents did archeological sites. Interesting to him, but not a place to be.

"Sometimes I pick up the phone and get as far as putting in their international number, you know?"

Tim, who was parented through phone calls and post cards. Tim, who spent so much of his life in boarding schools that an actual home looked more like a museum than a place to live.

"I'm sorry, bud," Bruce murmured. There wasn't much else he could say, aside from reminding Tim that his father was still alive. Comatose, hanging in limbo, but alive.

Bruce thought it would be easier if Jack Drake died with his wife. Bruce also hated himself for thinking those kinds of things.

"I just keep thinking about Mohenjo-daro," he continued. "We're learning about it in school this unit and I keep remembering- I keep remembering that Dad said he's been there. I can't keep the dates right in my head and he would have helped."

"I can give it a shot," Bruce offered even though he knew it was the wrong thing to do now just as it had been the wrong thing to do when he offered to find a Romani language tutor for Dick when he realized he was forgetting things.

It would solve one part of the problem, but it would never replace the help a father could give.

Tim turned towards him, pale face washed out in stark relief under the light from behind Bruce. He wondered if Tim could even see his face in the relative darkness and found a cowards courage knowing he couldn't.

"He told me a story about it once," Tim said. "I can't remember the ending. I can't remember what he told me. Why didn't I listen better?"

Bruce had no answer for him. He set his paper aside and opened his arms.

Dick would have thrown himself at Bruce, taking comfort where and when he could. Jason would have slunk over and did his level best to press close enough to cave in Bruce's chest and make himself a home.

He was, in hindsight, too good at that.

Tim always hesitated. Weighting the pros and cons? Overthinking a simple comfort offered freely? Bruce never knew.

Still, Tim slowly abandoned his squeaking chair. He let Bruce tug him in for a hug.

Tim was older than Dick had been, around the same age as Jason. Even so, in moments like this he seemed immeasurably younger. Tim, cast off in a prestigious boarding school, had lived comparatively untouched by life's hardest lessons. He signed up for the work, but he couldn't have known how hard it would be. Bruce never should have let him in, but what could he do now? Tim came to him when he needed a partner the most and he was so, so grateful even as regret threatened to choke him.

A beep, then. Bruce's eyes drifted upwards.

"The drugs we lifted from the Iceberg Lounge?" Tim asked against Bruce's neck.

"Yes."

"Show me."

Bruce let Tim out from the protective circle of his arms and did so. The moment lay broken behind them, like so many others.

[thehelltingvilleclub]

Matt Montgomery - Closet Geek & Closet Freak

An Adult in Eltingville that actually acts like an adult???? WHAT???

Matthieu "Matt" / "Mattie" Thomas Montgomery [02/16/1978] Not Affiliated with TEC - Known Tournament winner amongst Jerry's MTG players. Cosplayer and College student in Manhattan. AOL / Online Users: [MTM_cosplay] | [GoblinHoarder] Theme Songs: Talk talk - Charli xcx | Move Along - All American Rejects | Somebody Told Me - The Killers

Favorite Shit: Trading Cards, Puzzles, Sports cards, Cosplays, X-Men, Monsters, Kaiju, Robots/Mecha, Dr. Who, Rubicks Cubes, Hard Cover books, YAPPERS, Movie Marathons, Beast, Wolverine, MTG, D&D, Cosplay Contests

I don't know how tf to describe this man other than tired and done with everybody's shit and he hasn't been awake more than an hour. He's three years into his bachelor's degree, essentially has 3 full time jobs between cosplay, tournaments, and all of his school work PLUS TUTORING, homie barely has enough time to breathe let alone deal with the TEC. However, that doesn't mean he won't find a way to weasel himself in-- even if its.... by unconventional or rather... *unexpected* means.

Guys I have like no art of him SORRY

Mattie generally only gets introduced very sparingly during 1999-2005, essentially in passing by Jerry or Josh, but he's still present and alive during this time, obviously. Him being friends with Jerry is what gets him to recognize Josh later.

Matt is studying for a Bachelors in English Comp, specializing in Journalism.

Speaking of, Josh and Matt work together at the editors office for the Comic Book News site in the epilogue. It's how they find each other again after Matt graduates and moves back home.

Matt is from northern Vermont, around the Canadian border, and has a bit of a Canadian accent because of it.

Everyone picks on him about it except for May and Jerry, (yes, even Josh, but it eventually becomes endearing to Matt.)

MATT. LIKES. YAPPERS. He doesn't talk much, he doesn't have much to talk about. Books and papers and trying to explain gymnastics routines isn't exactly the most interesting thing in the world, y'know.

He also doesn't have the time to really subject himself to the extreme absorption that Josh and Bill can get with their comics and shows, so.. Tell him about them!

He didn't get access to a lot of the more nerdy, pop culture side of things because of his parents. They had a significantly stronger iron grip on what he and his sister were exposed to, so he never really...

well, he didn't get to express his love for the more geek-y side of life until he moved to NY for college.

He became a professional cosplayer via his roommate forcing him to post, invited to events and photoshoots for his live floor routines he'll do in character, though he almost always wears a full-face mask or enough make up that you can barely tell who he is.

he can't have his sister finding out he dresses up as a blue demon freak in his spare time, yknow? (god she'd bully the shit out of him if she did--)

He's been in gymnastics since he was in middle school, and he's actually quite good; he's on a scholarship at his university, for pete's sake.

unfortunately a bad fall broke his clavicle and made it so he can't do vault anymore, but he enjoys his time doing floor routines and fucking around on the pommel horse from time to time.

Matt also.. is weirdly envious of TEC's... closeness? The fact they barely get along and yet they're all still together, they all still try and see each other or keep in touch..

He's never had that, and it makes him horrifically jealous, but he keeps it to himself-- smile and wave, swallow it down like normal, hm?

please subject him to a movie marathon. Infodump on him everything about whatever you're fixated on. He likes listening to people's voices, so please, just do it. It doesn't bother him at all.

This man has a TEMPER. His mother and his sister have this too, and it is BAD. Matt, however, learned ways to keep his temper at bay and calm down. to an extent. Bill, however, always manages to get his blood to boil by just the mention of him, so maybe... don't

Also, Matt and Pete absolutely bicker. A lot. Matt is constantly showing off that even though he's only an inch taller, he's able to do soOOSOooo much more! and Pete is convinced that Matt isn't actually gay and is trying to steal May away (guys Pete is such a fucking jealous goober I hate him)

Meanwhile literally the only person Matt wants is Josh. Pete should open his eyes maybe but like it's fine.

HOLY SHIT GYUSY

Okay UHM Hi Matt probably won't be talked about much but if you see me Vermont Honey posting it's because I need my comfort ship back okay THanks Also the NSFW cut is coming guys It's gonna have em all And I'll draw Jane and Matt's little sister soon, as they go to school together (Jane absolutely hates her guts OOPS unfortunately she's a bitchy cheerleader so you bet Jane has a voodoo doll of her somewhere in her room).

[christinesficrecs]

Hi Christine, I know this is a long shot but long story short - lost my saves file a while ago and cannot find many of most favourite fics, I have countless quotes saved from them. I am sharing some with you in hopes people recognise the fics they're from if you post this. I will love you forever.

Derek’s first kiss in four years tastes like fresh-squeezed orange juice and makes his stomach flip like the drop in a rollercoaster. Stiles holds him close like he’s thanking him.

About the summer he spent in Ireland because there were pictures of his mom posed in various tourist sites at Dublin and Dingle and the Giant’s Causeway--places that he wanted to experience personally since he never got to ask her first-hand.

Derek looked at him for a moment, and wow, okay, this was why people wrote songs about love and painted pictures and wrote poetry, because he was pretty sure that he was falling in love with Derek Hale if only because of the guy's beautiful eyes and earnest expressions and his everything. God.

In some ways Stiles has done a lot of growing up since then, but a part of him thinks he’ll always be that scrawny, ridiculous kid at heart, whose greatest joys in life were Froot Loops, cheesy disco tunes, and masturbation.

Stiles gets back from his year abroad in Hungary with more muscles and the first of his tattoos, a knotted rope that runs the length of his spine.

Hey, Derek, can you do me a solid? Nothing serious, just, you know, screw my brains out, that’s all.

He meets Stiles’ gaze from where he's leaning against the back wall, his eyes catching glints of light amid the shadows. Certain people are just meant to live under the open sky.

Whatever he says afterwards, whatever happens between them, there will always be this, the long late afternoon with the sun skidding red in the west, and he will always know what Stiles looked like the first time someone filled him up to the hilt. There are no acrobatics. Nothing fancy happens. Derek feels like the ocean breaking helplessly on the shore, the tide rising, spilling him over.

there’s something about the shape of him, the way he’s huge and solid and beautiful and always thirty seconds away from admitting total defeat that rubs Stiles raw and tender.

“People are so exhausting,” he murmurs, and Stiles is glad to know it: that he isn’t people, that he counts as a kind of between places, maybe even as home.

Updating with the ones that magv1 found. Thank you!!!

Hot Single Dad Derek Hale by WhoNatural | 13.3K | Explicit

Wherein Derek is a Hot Single Dad, possibly with a little case of martyrdom, and Stiles is the newest client at his publishing house who really just wants to make him happy. Preferably while they're both naked.

^^^^^ #1 & 2

But Then What... by Stoney | 24.3K | Explicit

Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He's someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn't like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn't attracted to him.

Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

^^^^^ #3

My Life is not a Horror Movie, Derek by DiscontentedWinter | 38.9K | Explicit

Stiles keeps dreaming of people in robes with knives. With chanting. In Latin. And he mentioned the knives, right? That can't be good.

^^^^^ #4

i need your sway by thatworldinverted | 11.1K | Explicit

Stiles always figured it would be Scott who saw him through his first heat. They pinky-swore on it, in fact, when they were eleven and newly-presented. There haven’t exactly been an abundance of offers between then and now.

What there is now, though, is the pack, and pack takes care of each other.

^^^^^ #6

Sucker Love by whiskey_in_tea | 17.9K | Explicit

Kate sits up and narrows her eyes at him. “Page 72,” she says. “Why I Plan to Wait, by Stiles Stilinski.”

The spread is hilariously cliched: a full page picture of a pale, pretty boy with a wide-eyed blonde girl walking on the beach, the two of them holding hands and staring into the waves, probably thinking wistfully of the sex they aren’t having. Derek skims the text briefly. “Speaking up about the importance of virginity!” he exclaims. “Reclaiming chastity a a masculine virtue. Our friend Stiles sure is brave.”

“See, I was thinking he might make an interesting challenge,” Kate says lazily. “And he’s surprisingly attractive, don’t you think? Such long fingers. And that mouth.”

^^^^^ #8

[foundnthestars]

HI. I bring Questions. >:]

How long are Dipper and Stan in the portal for? I remember you saying it somewhere a while ago but I can't remember

Does Mabel ever get sent back home? (Home being Piedmont)

Tell me more abt Ford. Just. Anything about him. How does he come to terms with the fact his identity was stolen for 30 years? And that he can't even ask Stan about it? Does he ever learn about the kids interactions with Bill? How does he feel about the new entries in his journal? Just. Tell me abt Ford.

Are there any characters you haven't introduced yet who will be important later on, canon characters or otherwise?

HI! THANK YOU FOR THESE QUESTIONS COPPER!! i was out of town so i wasn't able to answer these until now but i've literally been thinking about them all weekend!!

I. this is a question i've given a lot of thought, and i think i've settled with a date i'm pretty satisfied with! i think stan and dipper would be in the multiverse a MUCH shorter time than mabel and ford would be in your traditional drifting stars au. that would mainly be because ford knows where to get materials faster than stan or dipper would in the same scenario — i.e. crash site omega. but it'd still take a while because ford will have to figure out a way to pinpoint their exact location in the multiverse rather than just rebuilding the portal as according to its original design.

so, they'll be coming back right around early summer/mid summer 2014. right before mabel and dipper's sophomore year of high school. mabel would have gone through the 8th grade and freshman year without dipper :( so about 2 years overall — just in time for the twins' 15th birthday!

i have so many headcanons about the twins' high school experience post-portal. sheesh. so much angst potential. but dipper would have to get up to speed in time to enroll in school with mabel, and ford would definitely spend a lot of time tutoring dipper to get him ready for 10th grade. (no better person to teach a triangle-averse, traumatized teen trigonometry than a triangle-averse, traumatized old man!! yay for trauma-informed mathematics!)

II. THIS. THIS. THIS. The Parents. They Haunt Me.

i'm a sucker for realism in fics (i mean y'all know how i obsessed over the capacity of stan's hearing aid batteries for weeks and couldn't let it go) so working out the twins' parents' role in this was definitely a struggle. it needed to be realistic while also allowing very vital plot points to happen. like mabel staying in gravity falls, for one thing.

so many drifting stars fics don't really talk about the parents, and trust me, i get it! it's hard to write and enjoy ford and mabel bonding when you have two devastated, grieving, hysterical, protective parents trying to yank one party back to boring old piedmont where nothing ever happens and plot goes to die. but i also didn't want their parents to wind up being two shallow, underdeveloped background characters who couldn't care less about where their sole child ended up.

in my opinion, no reasonable, sane parent would let their daughter stay with an adult who was the sole party responsible when their son went missing. i also couldn't really see two grown adults from some random californian suburb suddenly becoming okay with the idea that their son went through an interdimensional portal, no less still letting their daughter stay there after hearing about it.

the only way i could see a parent letting this happen was if they decided somehow that staying home was somehow worse than all possible risks. sure, great uncle stanford let dipper go missing right under his nose, but at least he's apologetic about it. that 70-something year-old man is running around the woods at night looking for their son (apparently). that lumberjack girl is crying at the mention of him while swearing up and down that she'll protect their daughter with her life. there's a 20 year old kid who keeps shoving photos of their son and daughter on some fishing trip in their face and bringing homemade baked goods and dishes his abuelita made for them to take home with them.

and what's waiting for mabel in piedmont? nothing good. nothing resembling a healthy family environment. it's apparently bad enough that their normally spritely, energetic, kind, allergic-to-lying daughter is running away from home in the middle of the night. the pines parents are Not Okay, and they know mabel won't be okay with them either right now. there's a messy divorce and an alcohol problem sneakily brewing and until they can get their shit sorted out they'll have to trust ford to take after mabel for a while.

that's the focus of the next chapter! and it's coming real soon! a lot more will be delved into (it won't be as clear cut as them just shipping her away to gravity falls for 2 years) but mabel's here to stay! [TTDR: Nope!]

III. ahhh ford. i can tell you many things about ford.

mabel is just constantly, always talking about stan. what shows he watches. what color he begrudgingly admitted he liked best when they were finally able to take off his bandages after the Color Incident. the way he takes his coffee in the morning. it doesn't matter what. she just Keeps. On. Sharing. ford has no idea what to make of it at first. stan sacrificed the entire universe and put his own niece and nephew at risk and stole his identity and entire life. how is he supposed to forgive him for that? (he secretly wants to know more and never, ever interrupts mabel when she starts talking about him. blue's his favorite, too. the color of the sea.)

ford gets really freakishly good at acting like stan. he hates doing it but he knows he has to if he wants to keep their story going. when he has to make trips into town, he puts up with people asking him about the shack and dipper and why he's passed the mr. mystery torch over to soos. even though he hates that his identity has been entirely stripped from him, he has to admit that it's nice to be liked by so many strangers. his view of stan gets pretty warped because of this. he has to reconcile a lot with the stan he thinks knows (a.k.a his anger) and who he really is to those around him.

mabel is entirely responsible for making ford the soft, family man he was always destined to be. that will play a HUGE role in his and stan's reconciliation and the way he'll treat him when they come back :) (there will be no punching or arguing, thank you very much)

he learns about bill and the kids in the next chapter. he feels many things. none of them good. i'll let you guys read that for yourselves. i loveee when fics touch on ford's reaction to dipper's possession and bill's interactions with them, and ford will NOT be pleased to hear about any of this or bill's recent rendezvous in mabel's dreamscape

when he reads the entries in the journal, there's far less of the "i can't believe this kid scribbled over my life's work" than there was in canon. mainly because ford is deeply, palpably guilty that dipper got pulled into the portal HE created. here's a child that revered him and ended up losing a huge chunk of his adolescence because of it. he can't pin the blame on stan forever. not when he reads dipper's entries and sees the potential in a life that might be lost to bill or to the harsh realities of the multiverse. (he spends nights reading them and imagining what could have been if things didn't go so horribly wrong).

IV. yes! more important characters on the way. pacifica is the only one of them who is actually included in tags for now :) take from that what you will and for what that says for the future, hehe. super excited to introduce her and to write her dialogue !

there are also some other canon characters who are not tagged yet, because it'd be too big of a spoiler, but are MAJOR to the plot. super excited for those chapters!!

as for OCs, they are vital for plot progression and world building for a fic of this nature but they will never overshadow canon characters or be inserted in any major way. just a bit of fun world building coming for those guys!! i had a lot of fun writing acksyien for that short bit so expect more wacky side characters for dip and stan to meet!

[homeshikshatutorassist]

How a Private Tutor for Home Can Improve Your Child's Performance

Engaging a private tutor for home provides students with the individual attention needed to overcome academic hurdles. Tutors can pinpoint specific areas that need improvement and provide targeted learning strategies. Whether it's improving grades, enhancing subject knowledge, or increasing confidence, home tutoring helps students meet their full potential. If you're looking for quality tutoring services, explore HomeShiksha for top-rated private tutors in your area.

[kokofromwattpad]

Living with them

Plot: How life is like living in the same house as them

Cw:None that I know of

A/N: Holy shit I'm sick and needed to pump this one out

Word count: 2.2k

Freida Köinig

• Once everything is settled and she has graduated from the royal academy, she orders for a new residential wing to be constructed adjacent to hers where the royal tutor will live out the rest of their life.

• She is constantly inviting herself over to their wing to just spend time with them. Eating pastries, drinking tea, and doing embroidery etc.

• She also enjoys dragging them outside and just walking around the palace as she rambles on and on.

Beta Köinig

• After he graduates, he buys a large apartment in the capital for him and [Name] to live in. It's on the top floor of the building and is quite cute.

• He spends most of his days either staying in his study, working on his books, or being busy being forced to go to royal balls and banquets (to which he makes [Name] be his plus one)

• He also goes out a lot to buy his darling anything and everything they could ever want. Whether that is furniture, books, food, clothes, or literally anything. He is willing to set aside his social anxiety to make sure his darling doesn't leave the apartment.

Hali Mortimer

• Hali spends most of her time swimming in the courtyard's pond with her new pair of legs. She also enjoys running laps around the mansion where [Name] lives.

• Since [Name] is a wealthy doctor, they usually spend their time inside treating patients in the on-site infirmary they have in their home, which causes Hali to have a vehement hate towards the patients.

• She also likes dressing herself up in [Name]'s dead mother and sister's jewelry. She spins around happily, showing off how the long string of pearls clack against each other while trying to garner praise from [Name].

Pan

• Pan uses his magic to create a cute little cabin in a grove in the forest far away from mother nature's control where he and [Name] can live.

• He also uses his magic to amplify the growth and taste of vegetables in the small vegetable garden in the back of the cabin, which let's [Name] make the most delicious soup and stew ever. However, he does make [Name] become vegan as he sobs loudly whenever they even bring home a dead rabbit to eat

• Also, he's a big cuddler. Sitting on the couch and reading? He's on your lap, nuzzling into your chest. Cooking by the fireplace? He's latched onto your thigh as you stir the pot. He's just a little cutiepie who wants praise for helping you.

02/05/2025 12:40

[changingplumbob]

San Myshuno Characters - 1

Check out the sims who will be appearing in Layla's life over the next while.

San Myshuno Residential Child Care Community

So did you know orphanages are no longer really a thing and are being phased out due to the negative effects on the children? SanMy R Triple C seeks to provide children and teenagers who cannot live with their families a safe space to live and grow in the right direction. They follow a shift care model as opposed to a family model. The two dozen youth who live there have on site access to social workers, therapists, tutors and their caseworker.

She is black and latina... Adult sim... I tried sticking with colorful yet soft... Some more "dressy" outfits but also some made for running around - matchalovertrait

Elena Martinez (on the left) was made for me by @matchalovertrait. Elena is the matron of R Triple C, overseeing all the kids in a mother hen role. She's normally the first port of call when a child is scared, sick or in need of a chat.

Mildred is, unfortunately, just there to take care of all of them... She likes to dress in the 50’s style, though - paracosmic-sims

Mildred Wylie on the right runs the kitchen for the centre, it's a lot of work feeding two dozen growing kids, plus all the adults that are stationed there on their shifts. She has been known to let you have an extra cookie if you've had a rough day though.

I low-key want him to have a band, but also pull that *proper boy* vibes. I also headcanon he might be rather sporty... I kept his traits as neutral as possible: Overachiever and Bro - paracosmic-sims

Everett Wylie, the grandson of the cook, known to hang around the home trying to swipe some of her cooking or helping the younger kids out with their scouts badges. Another creation by @paracosmic-sims.. But wait, THERE'S MORE!

She also made me Sienna, Samson and Sierra! They are residents of R Triple C and triplets! The girls will be in the gymnastics team while Samson may catch a certain girls eye...

Sienna is a self-confident girl who is both nerdy and sporty... She loves sims who can match her energy, but doesn’t have a great compatibility with more subdued people. Also, she has hearing loss (about 75%) in her ear - paracosmic-sims

Samson is the aforementioned subdued people. No, literally. He’s a loner boy, with the Artistic Prodigy aspiration. I kinda headcanon him as the shyer, more self-conscious sibling - paracosmic-sims

Sierra is the fun-loving prankster, goofball triplet who may lose a friend before she loses the opportunity to joke, unfortunately. She loves bright colors, and has the Slumber Party Animal aspiration. Picture like… a toned-down Pinkie Pie - paracosmic-sims

[tater-todd17]

Inspired by an art piece I saw last Halloween.

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

She felt the scream before the sound ever had hope to escape her mouth. The horrific sight etched so deep into her mind since the night she saw it; her baby brother's corpse. Trenton had just been another student she was tutoring, until he started taking lessons at her house, but only if Danny was home. At first she thought it was innocent, the desire for a friendship or maybe even a crush, but that day destroyed any hope she had of normalcy. He'd been erratic for a few days before; insisting they should go outside for their lessons. Jazz really wished she hadn't agreed, but it was less of an agreement and more of a desperate attempt to get him to stop gripping her wrist so tight. Why hadn't she noticed that look on his face, why hadn't she noticed that his eyes seemed wrong?

He yanked her into the park, and suddenly her father's words had echoed through her mind "never ignore your gut, this is only for emergencies" she was so close to pressing the panic button. They reached the treeline, the bottom of the hill had a strangely fresh mound. Jazz knew that smell, Death. Decay. Rot. Something had died here, and now she wished it could have been her. Trenton's sick smile widened as he pulled her towards the unearthed grave. "See! I told you." He stated with a disgusting pride to his voice. "I found your baby brother." It was him; it WAS Danny. At least it had been, because this body was dead at least a month ago; and now, as the scream leaves her throat, and she feels thin but strong arms wrap around her protectively; she cries, but not from relief. She cries because if she saw Danny's body in Amity park just under a week ago, how the hell was he trying to soothe her in their home tonight?

The nightmares hadn't stopped, not in the days or weeks after the incident. She stopped sleeping, the terror of seeing her brother's dead face echoed in her subconscious until she could no longer handle it. His sunken skin, a scream burned into his throat that could never come out; so it came from her instead. She checked his room every night, and he was always there. The gentle rise and fall of his chest used to comfort her in the night; knowing that her baby brother was safe and warm. He wasn't though, she knew that now. He was gone: cold, alone, in the dark. The caffeine addiction started soon after, anything and everything that would help her stay awake, to stop the images of Danny, until even that didn't work. 

Her mother and father's voices echoed in her head "this is your baby brother, and you'll help keep him safe." Her mother stated with pride in her eyes as Jasmine gripped the edges to the hospital bed still begging to hold the newborn. She had declared the baby hers on site, and her father had agreed "of course jazzy, and you'll always have each other." God how she wished always hadn't come so soon. It was like a sickening sixth sense, knowing it was her name on his lips; his cold, blue lips that would never greet her in the morning again. 

She had almost convinced herself it was just a nightmare; nearly pushed the feeling of bile rising in her throat back down passed her chest. Then Danny's bedroom door creaked open; messy hair and sleepy eyes came into her view and it was just so close to okay; but then he opened his mouth to greet her and it hit again. All at once, the fresh smell of dirt, the pain in his once bright blue eyes, she could hear his voice breaking and she couldn't stop herself; she ran. 

[shih-coulda-had-it]

child of the old path wip. current narrative structure seems to be three chapters? maybe three + one epilogue to send Prime Torino home... with a 2 izuku pov to every 1 sorahiko pov.

wc: 1,033

//

A sour silence settles between them. Teenagers. Sorahiko despairs of them. He knows for a fact that Izuku is tired, and sheer exhaustion ought to have dropped the boy the second his head hit the pillow. But no, from this viewpoint, Sorahiko can see flickers of that strange Blackwhip energy crackling bright in the darkness.

“Just sleep,” he says.

“I really can’t.”

Sorahiko stares at the ceiling, and with great trepidation, he asks, “... Do you wanna ask me any questions?”

Izuku inhales, sharp, and he fairly explodes with a loud and passionate, “YES.” He sits up, leans forward. Despite the unlit interior, Sorahiko sees an unearthly green glow from the boy’s eyes.

“Before I say anything, pile up your pillows and lean back against ‘em.” When he complies, Sorahiko folds his arms and says, “I also need to know something. Has Toshinori told you anything about his years with Shimura and me?”

“No,” Izuku says, “but—that’s mostly because we haven’t had time to really talk. About anything.”

“Oh. Fire away, then.”

“Ahhh, I have so many questions!” The boy descends into rapid muttering and gesturing, apparently needing to go through the motions of sorting out his thoughts. Sorahiko genuinely feels grateful; Toshinori’s own thought process is mystifyingly opaque. More than once, Sorahiko’s been tricked into believing that Toshinori had some grand strategy, only to realize that his bullheaded idiot had defaulted into one principle: stand strong. 

“Haven’t I—?” Sorahiko cuts himself off. He’s spent the past few hours wondering about the trajectories of everyone’s future but his own. Possibly because he’d recognized the tattered ‘cape’ pinned to Izuku’s gear and subconsciously refused to speculate.

“Well, I spent almost a week interning with you,” Izuku admits.

The words slip from Sorahiko’s mouth before he can contain the outrage. “Holy shit, I’m still licensed?”

“Yessir,” the boy says. “Though, um, due to… circumstances… you did lose the teaching license for six months.” His voice noticeably brightens. “Oh! This reminds me! Before I went back to U.A., I asked you why you weren’t well-known, because your speed and handling of the, ah, situation was incredible. And you said that you hadn’t gone into the industry for fame.”

“I said that?”

“Yes. You said, ‘I needed to be able to use my Quirk freely and legally.’” Eagerly, Izuku presses on, “Were you a vigilante beforehand? Or a—a villain? A lot of the records from before All Might’s era weren’t archived well. We really only know classic heroes like Crimson Riot and Recovery Girl.”

Sorahiko blinks. “Recovery Girl’s dead?”

“No, no,” Izuku hastily corrects. “She’s actually still working as the on-site school nurse for U.A., and she does a lot of consultations? Gran Torino, please don’t avoid the question.”

He grimaces, and he settles in for the interrogation. This isn’t exactly the bedtime story he thought he’d be telling. Honestly, he’d been hoping for the opportunity to tell Izuku about a thirteen year old Toshinori trailing after Shimura into Sky High Agency like a faithful duckling, schoolbag full of algebra and geometry homework.

Shimura had, at that point, agreed that she would apprentice Toshinori. But her practice was all practical, and while Toshinori was a relative genius when put to the test, his ability to calculate math exercises was garbage. Like the student, the teacher had the same issue. 

And like the teacher, the student begged Sorahiko for tutoring help. Sorahiko made him pay with fresh taiyaki until Toshinori finally wised up and actually studied.

“I didn’t grow up as a kid watching heroes work,” Sorahiko says, picking his words carefully. “It wasn’t necessarily a peaceful or boring childhood, but the profession didn’t pick up steam until I was well into high school. I didn’t have any reason to use my Quirk.”

“Did your parents have Quirks?”

“Weak ones. They didn’t care for how mine manifested.” Not horrible parents, in the end. There were worse. Sorahiko always maintained that there were worse people to have raised him considering the era had ‘just’ left behind the mob mentality inspiring Meta X’ers into the streets. He clears his throat. “I wasn’t a vigilante. Shimura met me while I was working as a trainer in a gym. I was the only one who didn’t mind being outclassed by a woman, so my co-workers kept volunteering me. She was the one who encouraged me to start getting creative with Jet.”

“I didn’t think you could train with Quirks outside hero-related facilities,” Izuku muses.

“Regulations change all the time.” And, Sorahiko thinks privately, Shimura was a rare gem of a pro-hero. Young, combat-oriented, flight capable, and above all that, unattached, beautiful, and female. None of the ‘traditional’ institutions wanted the stigma.

“So the Seventh suggested you get the license?”

“She didn’t suggest anything. I got it my damn self because she wanted to leave her sidekick gig, and believe it or not, it’s a hassle and a half to start your own agency if you’re a young single woman with fair-weather friends.”

Being a pro-hero paid well, technically. There was no shortage of opportunistic villains still taking advantage of the chaos an unsupervised Japan invited. It was simply that being a professional hero sucked.

“I’m not gonna claim we were anything like pioneers or pro-heroes at the forefront of an evolving industry,” Sorahiko says. “It’s not noble. It’s work.”

“So why did you do it?”

“... It was fun.” For all the shit they shoveled, all that tedious paperwork, Sorahiko still got to work with his best friend. Sorahiko’s nails dig into his chilled skin. “We had fun together. Sometimes you just—click with somebody. I trusted her with my life.”

“Even though you hadn’t known her for long?” A yawn follows this question. Relief relaxes Sorahiko’s brain-to-mouth filter.

“People’ve done stupider things for love.”

Shit. Saying it aloud spooks Sorahiko wide awake. He holds his breath, waiting for Izuku’s bright spring-trap of a mind to seize on the admission, or for the ghosts to react. Is the roiling, burning embarrassment his or Shimura’s? 

But Izuku is silent, and his breathing is steady. The boy’s asleep. Sorahiko’s shame is his own. Nevertheless, he only manages a half-doze for the rest of the night.

[rune-rambles-art]

Koleda (and other Belobog Heavy Industries) headcanons bc I am so very normal™️ about her

Her favorite food is cake (pretty obvious) with her favorite flavor being chocolate. She also really likes brown sugar flavored teamilks, and Ben will bring one back for her without fail every time he goes to pick some up for the higher ups.

She likes to be on schedule. If something in her usual routine changes, her fuse is a lot shorter when dealing with trivial tasks

Koleda has a teddy bear that she loves very dearly and sleeps with every night. It was a gift from Grace after her dad disappeared

Grace does Koleda’s hair every morning. If she needs a touch up during the day, she usually asks Grace for help. In the case that she can’t find Grace, Ben and Anton are capable of fixing it up instead (Grace taught them how)

She does wear her eyepatch for a reason. When she was young, she wandered into a hollow and was injured by an ethereal. It became permanently corrupted and as a result, she has severe light sensitivity in that eye. It does look pretty cool though.

She and Anton create training regimens together pretty regularly. The 100 Bangoo single-handed pushup idea came from an off-handed joke Koleda made, but Anton took it literally.

When out at cafes together, Grace and Koleda usually order for each other. Koleda started it as an opportunity to order more “sophisticated” sweets and coffees, but it eventually developed into a game of seeing if they could pick out and surprise each other with dishes the other would enjoy.

Ben attempts to tutor Koleda with math by letting her calculate the totals in his finance reports. He calls her over with the excuse of “double checking his work”, letting her try to work it out, and then showing her how he got his total on a separate sheet of paper. She has not been correct a single time, but she appreciates his consideration.

Grace won’t let Koleda have a cat at home, but in exchange she allows Koleda to name every single one of her machines (keeping up the tradition Khors started).

If both are working on site that day, Anton and Koleda start the morning off with a footrace between the two of them (and most of the company spectate it). The tradition began after Anton asserted he was the fastest runner in all of Belobog to a group of his subordinates, which earned a scoff from the president who just happened to be passing by. After a short back and forth, the duo decide to settle it with a race the next morning. Word spread through the company fast, and there was a sizable crowd waiting for them near the storage area the following morning. Bets were placed (the pool was pretty even, but skewed in the president’s favor just slightly), and the two took the starting line. After a shot from Grace’s nailgun, they began their three laps around the work area. Koleda pulls ahead at a frightening speed, and finishes a full fifteen seconds before Anton. He demands a rematch every day, and the board they used for the firing (nail) gun keeps score of how many times they’ve raced to this day. They’re up to the 4th board full of nails now, and only new hires bet against Koleda. None of the employees considers a work day truly “beginning” until their race finishes.

[pastellar1ne]

I keep promising Brawl Stars content but haven't delivered yet, so have these English college AU headcanons for my poly.

This is just their basic information, and it's based on the college I go to for ease lmao

Roger Smith

19-years-old, in their second year (late bday).

Took level 2 culinary in their first year, and is currently taking level 3 culinary.

Not sure what they want to be, but knows they enjoy cooking from helping out with it at home, and that they have a knack for it. Decided that taking the course could at least help them from a domestic perspective, if they don't use it in the workplace.

Has a driver's license, often drives to college in their mum's old car that's barely alive.

Has always been in public education.

Took the gym enrichment, and regularly visits the gym outside of that.

Byron Blackwood

18-years-old, in his second year.

Taking biology, chemistry, and animal management A Levels.

Wants to be a doctor, and that's what the biology and chemistry are for. Animal management was because they needed him to pick a third one, and he crossed his fingers and hoped this would, or could, involve snakes at least once.

Gets dropped off at the college by his family's driver, but has requested to be picked up and dropped off a block away, so he can arrive more discreetly.

In public college, as opposed to private, because he was sick of private education, and applied for this himself. Both of his parents were ashamed, and he did get in repeated trouble for this - and still is given shit for it.

Took the strategy board games enrichment.

Charlotte Monet

16-years-old, in her first year.

Taking a performance arts practice (acting) level 3. Same class as Lola.

Wants to be a silent film actor, but will only say "actor" if asked. She gets enough shit for liking old film as it is.

How she gets to college is dependent on her recently developed chronic pains. On good days, she will bike to the college - on bad days, she will take a bus, though might still force herself to bike (because "I must just be unfit").

Has always been in public education.

Took the college play and makaton enrichments.

Known as "Gray" to close friends. Outsiders are told it's a nickname, and stage name.

Lola Garcia

16-years-old, in her first year.

Taking a performance arts practice (acting) level 3. Same class as Charlotte.

Wants to be famous and "as loved as she deserves to be", and she believes the best way to do this is to be an actress. She also does have a passion for acting, so long as she's actually important to the piece.

She gets dropped off by her family's driver, but she goes straight in through the car park (despite the amount of times they've been told not to drop off there).

She's in public education, as opposed to private, because her parents believe it might "turn her ego down a couple notches" if she spent some time with the lower class a bit more, and learned the conditions other people have - and how privileged she is. She hasn't gotten the lesson yet.

Took the college musical and college play enrichments.

Leonard Anderson

18-years-old, in his second year.

Taking a performance arts practice (acting) level 3. Different class to Lola and Charlotte.

Having been a child actor and voice-actor for the past, roughly, 10 years - however still required to partake in education - he saw no harm in studying what he was interested in, and good at. Who knows, he might even learn some things he didn't already know!

He is dropped off by his family's driver, who he makes sure drops him off in front of the college, instead of in the car park.

He's in public education, as opposed to private, because he requested to be. Having originally attended public school, prior to home-schooling and tutoring, he wanted to return to what he was used to - instead of join the other rich kids in a fancy college, like his parents wanted him to.

Was excused from mandatory enrichments, due to busy timetable.

Known more commonly as "Kit" on site, for his famous role as the cartoon cat.

[velvetures]

May I RQ a reader who is trying to learn their language to help them feel more comfortable, but feels insecure due to them not really being fluent? They mispronounce and misuse the slangs in context, but hopes they can make the boys see the effort they are trying to go through for them.

Lessons In Miscommunication

A/N: Hi doll, I hope you don't mind me using König for this one. I've got a lot of experience with Spanish irl, but that's not super applicable here, haha. To anyone who's German... please forgive me. 🤍 Summary: You're on comms during a mission getting a small lesson in König's language while waiting for your next orders from HQ. Things get complicated, and there's a language and culture barrier that makes things... challenging. T/W: canonical warfare, cursing, non-fluent use of German, flirting, feelings, and some other stuff probably. Not proofread, as always.

To put it simply, you didn't expect just how difficult it would be to learn a new language in your twenties. Sure the science spoke to the provable trouble you would have compared to a much younger version of yourself, but for all meaningful purposes, you really didn't think it would be this nuanced. And while Spanish, French, and other languages were of great importance, there wasn't anyone who could teach you those. The one person around was König, and he spoke German.

When you'd approached the topic nearly eight months ago, he'd been honestly shocked and surprised that you'd come to him in the first place and secondly that you thought he would be a good teacher. He was often thought of as reliable as a Colonel, but giving you suitable enough tutoring in German to be conversational was nothing short of uncharted territory for the pair of you. This made for very interesting moments in and outside of missions as well as a few times where it would've been better if you'd used an online app or something to keep from unintentionally embarrassing yourself.

Posted almost two miles away from the Colonel on a rocky outcropping overlooking a small encampment of a radical terrorist group, you laid on the hillside with a rifle and radio trying to pass the time between now and when you'd get the call to secure the site. The men and women down below were only one small stop-off point for a far larger caravan of armored trucks and a few tanks carrying supplies and weaponry toward the closest city of Almazra. It was a threat that couldn't come to fruition if the buildings and people still living there were to be left standing by the end of the week.

On the other end of the two-mile distance was König and a selected squad of men who were waiting just as impatiently as you were to not only get this mission over with but to get out of the damn desert heat. For security's sake, you knew you should be keeping the airways clear for any kind of information about the insurgent's movements, but König had insisted that this would be a perfect opportunity for you to get some practice in without losing focus of the task at hand. Your job at the moment was to keep eyes on the encampment through the lens of your sniper rifle and report anything that looked to be of importance.

König's definition of what was important could be easily debatable, yet it did ensure that you could make simple connections between real-world objects and the German words or phrases that matched. Whether or not the Colonel realized it or not, both of you had slightly gotten off the target of what you were supposed to be talking about and wandered into the more... personal aspects of things. Specifically just how bad you wanted to be home after nearly a full month away from American soil and your personal home.

"Ich habe für immer Fernweh," Your accent was certainly progressing, at least in the Colonel's mind, but he wasn't quite sure exactly what you meant by that.

"Was meinst du damit? Kannst du es dieses Mal auf Englisch sagen?"

His voice sounded a little confused and more than a tinge humored at the way you'd sounded so... formal. Even diplomatic to a degree. It was one of the more difficult parts of teaching you. Dialects, slang, and even simple English-to-German translations didn't always have a very direct or clear answer. Often it meant that you would say something with full intention and innocent honesty, and König would have to keep himself from chuckling. Most of the men he worked alongside didn't speak for one reason or another, so getting to hear at least one person -especially you- made the near and far miscommunication more than worth the effort.

Looking through your scope at a group of five sitting around a small fire, you sigh a bit, trying to think of how to explain yourself.

"I meant I'm feeling homesick," You mutter a little more quietly than necessary, almost as if saying it in English was broadcasting your secret while German somehow kept it from being found out. "What did you hear me say?"

König chuckled, his laugh vibrating in the speakers of your comm quite nicely. "You said you have wanderlust forever," You could hear him smiling from the other end. "It's okay, sometimes the words don't always mean exactly what you think they do. I had the same problem when I learned English." For a moment he paused, laughing softly again. "I still can't say Squirrel... properly."

"Vielleicht habe ich doch Lust auf etwas..." You mutter a bit frustrated and somewhat skarkily under your breath, making a small jab at wordplay not thinking that König could hear you over the radio or that he'd be more shocked to hear you say such a thing.

The radio stays silent for a long few minutes, almost tricking you into believing that you'd been safe in making your comment under your breath without any audible witnesses. Only on the other end, the Colonel was struggling between the actual meaning behind your words, the way it sounded so damn sexy... and how he was supposed to actually answer you without sounding too affected by something as simple as your voice.

"Se-Sergeant..." His voice sounded a little weak, much in the same way it did when he was in an uncomfortable social situation. "What did you just say?"

Instantly your body tensed up from fingers to toes and you felt a shock of heat roll through you. König heard you. Right away you assumed by the growl in his question that you were going to be in for some kind of punishment. Maybe even a good ass-chewing in front of the rest of the squad for saying something so easily considered lewd and totally unprofessional to utter in the presence of a superior officer. Your best bet was apologizing, and hoping he'd just let it go...

"I'm sorry, I was just frustrated and-"

His voice deepens over the radio, almost like he's got it pressed right up against his mouth. "Say it again." The command felt heavy in your stomach. "Now."

You repeated the phrase, staring through the lens of your scope with bated breath. waiting to hear what the Colonel would say in response. And the last thing you expected was to hear an almost pained sort of growling sound vibrating in your ears. It made you shiver and despite König being almost two miles away, it felt like he was breathing down your neck.

"Du klingst so hübsch, wenn du das sagst..." A noticeable static over the radio took your attention, but when it didn't get worse you had the mental capacity to translate what König said word by word until you had the full sentence running through your head.

The time between his praise and your response was nearly indistinguishable between seconds and years. Had it not been for you watching your targets moving in real-time through your scope, you would've thought the whole world had come to a stuttering halt in anticipation of your response. Yet it seemed that the world still had to do other important things which included bringing the key turning point of this mission right to your front door with the sudden sound of an approaching squad tailing the convoy of insurgents giving information and callouts for how to proceed forward. Of those, orders for König and his men to begin working down the side of the mountain to intercept the meeting of the convoy and the small ground sitting in tents around a high-burning fire.

"Ich werde später herausfinden, wie hübsch man klingen kann, wenn man schmutzige Dinge auf Deutsch sagt." The Colonel's voice growled lowly, almost threatening in a sense.

There was no telling what would happen after the mission ended and there wasn't a threat of being shot or failing to secure Almazra. What you could count on was König finding you and testing out his theory of all the things you could say in his language they may or may not have been provocative - on purpose or not. Something in your body shivered in delightful nervousness and anticipation of just how he planned on getting that kind of information out of you. A couple of ideas swirled in your mind, but the movement of the incoming convoy didn't allow you the luxury of daydreaming about your Colonel or how your mistaken words and German lessons had landed you here.

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