#problematicmcyt

[problematicfanfics]

KINKTOBER ‘22 TEACHER/STUDENT (WIP) tombur

deciding to repost bc i added more (a while back) and i just constantly see the first draft get hype on my page and i figured i’d just share.

very slight NSFW

( ◠‿◠ )

Tommy wouldn’t necessarily call himself a good kid.

He would do his homework. He attended all of his classes. He’s averaged an A so far the entire year. So yes, by textbook definition, Tommy was a good kid.

1 Snapchat Notification: Anthony 🤯

“Right before p5 meet C hall bthrm”

“Bring cart Nathan feening 💀”

But he knew the only reason he ever made it through the day was thanks to his passing period restroom stops.

Anyone attending a “Western” high school can explain to you the ins and outs of the passing period bathroom breaks all the teens line up for. Each group eagerly awaits for a friend who has the supply.

And if you’re painfully unaware of the dark market being run in every bathroom stall, Tommy loves to explain it as a “social thing”. He’s just generally a better person like this. It’s an easy conversation starter, a fast in, a way to curry favor with more well-known kids in his school.

And he’s realized his grades have never been better.

Ever since he started smoking weed in his tenth year, he’s found he’s a rather studious smoker. His grades improved dramatically. Math seemed to make sense and he wasn’t struggling with anxiety from his testing. Stiff seats are easy to sit still in when your body finally relaxes. Class notes now fit smoothly in his brain between his knowledge of minecraft and song lyrics. Nothing negative seemed to be coming of his habits, despite the fear he gets from running in this little underground market. Passing a teacher in the halls can be a normal life versus permanent felony situation if they so much as ask to search his bag.

“…that fucking bitch doesn’t know her left from her right. Mate, I swear to God, she asked my chemistry teacher which one is which.”

Tommy chokes on the nicotine he’s hitting, lungs collapse into laughter. Promptly he erupts into a fit of coughing

“Yo, dude, get that checked out…” One of his friends in the stall next door said. “Ha, as if. Imagine being like… ‘Hey mum, my nicotine addiction might be affecting my health, mind if we take a look at it down at the ol’ doctor’s office?’”

The stalls laugh at the absurdity of ever revealing this secret to their parents.

Who cares if he’s started coughing from the metal shards when he laughs?

The day he truly understands he’s a functioning addict is when he makes his fifth stop in the C hall restrooms, waiting for his friend Jay while squatting on the toilet, as his other friend pretends to be doing “normal stall things” (as he puts it).

He knows the risks every time, six boys crammed into a stall to trade flavors and discuss about the girls they want and the bitches they hate, the snake “friends” who rat out others and the teachers they despise. He’s always ready to jump to shut everyone up when a teacher walks in. Sometimes, however, his guard falls.

Fifth period Tommy attends a US History class, something he had wanted to take since he saw it was an available course. His love for the subject, plus his new found study buddy, made the class a perfect choice in his mind.

Tommy didn’t mind attending the class. It had taken him upwards of three weeks to learn the teacher’s name (Mr. Gold, but the class called him Soot), and who he was (he was hired by the school three years ago and has been a teacher ever since), and his love life (he has a girlfriend, but all his classes found a picture of her on his instagram and they think he can do better).

He didn’t, however, have a hard time committing Soot’s appearance to memory.

His curly hair fell perfectly every day without a fail. The tight button up shirts he wore required him to roll up his sleeves if he ever wanted any relief from the room’s broken AC. It’s hard for Tommy to not follow his hands switching between the board and the lesson plan on his desk.

He’d be lying if he didn’t say he thinks that Mr. Gold was finer than the heavens. It seemed to be a popular debate in this girl’s restroom, too; was Mr. Gold hot or was it just the power dynamic?

As Tommy sits with his legs up between the railing and the wall, inhaling his cart like it was his life force in preparation for his fifth period class, he turns his phone for his friends to see. “You can’t tell me he isn’t hot!” He says as he gives the phone over to an equally contorted friend of his. “Gold? Tommy, you’re crazy. He isn’t that hot.”

“Listen I’m not gay but I’d be a victim. I’m just saying.” Tommy takes the phone back as he preheats the battery. One of his friends nods in agreement.

As the debate continues over the attractiveness levels of Wilbur's instagram posts, Tommy pulls up an old high school yearbook photo of the man. “You can’t say you wouldn’t want William Gold to fuck you, I honestly think I give this man fuck me eyes in class accidentally.” Tommy practically yells to prove his point to Aj.

Suddenly, a loud presence enters the bathroom.

“Ok, I know there’s more than one of you in there. Everybody out.”

The boys look around nervously to one another as Tommy holds back laughter. That is definitely Soot.

There is a tense pause. No one wants to respond out of fear of punishment (and slightly because he had to have overheard the conversation they were just having). “Guys, I’m not playing games here. Let’s go. We can take this to the head if we need.”

Quickly the boys hop down from their acrobatic positions and grab their backpacks.

“One, two, three of you!” Mr. Gold sighs at the sight. “Wow, no! There’s more! Five? SIX? There were six of you in there? My God it’s like a fucking clown car.”

The boys shift nervously under his look. “Listen, I don’t care. It’s just protocol. You’re lucky I’m not taking you down to the counselor, it smells like weed in here.” Everyone exchanges quick looks as they continue to try to hide the obvious vapes inside their hoodie sleeves.

“So you just… don’t care?” Tommy pipes up. His friends shoot him scathing looks, as if telling him to not push their luck and get out while they can.

Wilbur seems taken aback by the question. “Well, it’s not that I don’t care, it’s just… Listen, don’t say I’m letting you guys smoke in the stalls. I’m not. I just think you’re smart enough to not be dumb with it again.”

“But if you were truly concerned for our safety wouldn’t you confiscate our shit?”

“Listen, this is great energy Tommy, how about you keep it up in class and stop giving me fuck me eyes the entire period. I get you’re high but try a little harder.”

The entire bathroom goes silent before erupting into laughter. People with no business in the situation Tommy can hear snicker in the background.

“I’ll make sure to have you work for your money today.” Tommy says before Gold shrugs him off to prepare for his incoming class.

“I am so sorry you have to attend his class now.” Tommy’s buddy Nathan pats him on the back. “The sexual tension during lessons boutta go crazy” Aj jokes as he motions Tommy to head to class with him.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Tommy says as he sits in front of the classroom door with his head in his hands. “How do I look him in the eyes? I’ll just skip class by going to the nurse.”

Aj jumps in front of him before he can leave. “We’re already five minutes late. Please let’s just go in. The longer you wait the worse it gets and you know that.” Tommy reevaluated his choices before finally agreeing that Aj was, in fact, right, and that they should attend class.

“Tom Simons, nice of you to join us.” Soot singles him out in the middle of his lesson. Tommy’s equally guilty friend slips into the back of the classroom undetected. “Please, take a seat.” The sarcasm drips from his lips.

Tommy sits in his usual seat far in the back next to Aj. The work was boring mundane class stuff. They used their laptops to research the battles fought during the American Independence War and Tommy finished within the first three minutes.

Tommy raises his hand to gloat to his teacher, ready for the victory as he tells Soot his work is “too easy” and to “give him a challenge.”

“I’m done, easy shit.” Tommy says when Soot finally strolls his way over to the seat. He wasn’t prepared for Wilbur to lean over behind him to read, or the way he said “Good job, Tommy” as he got up (he can’t help but imagine him whispering “good boy” into his ear).

His eyes shoot up to meet Wilbur’s. Every quick retort he had loaded to fire falters. He feels like he needs to say something.

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Weren’t you just in there?” Soot makes a sarcastic sad face to mock Tommy’s surprised expression. “I remembered hearing a conversation about being a victim, if I’m not mistaken?”

Aj laughs as Tommy goes pale and forcefully chuckles. “Hey, haha, listen man, I-”

“Ok everyone, please discuss with the person next to you the notes you should have completed by now.” He redirects his attention back to the class, the low tone now projecting off the walls indicating he was referring to everyone.

Tommy turns to face his friend on his left. His shit eating grin left Tommy regretting his entire day.

“Can you send me the answers? I was too busy watching the in house entertainment”

About a week had passed since Tommy was caught, and he was being as careful as possible. Last thing he needed was another run in.

His fourth period lunch left quite a lot to be desired; in the mornings he was never hungry. Instead he fills himself with flavored air, weed, and a severely diluted once-iced coffee.

The lunch period only housed one friend every day, but on alternating days up to seven people would sit with them for lunch. Either way he was too high to notice anything happening around him. No difference was it to him if there was one or eight people, as long as he was being supplied the bodies didn’t matter.

These alternating days with a lot of people leads to everyone slowly making their way to the bathrooms after eating, using it as a pit stop and waiting out the remainder of their time.

Tommy had been waiting since 10:15, and the period ends at 10:30. He was finally getting his new cart today. For the last week he was either smoking scraps from all his empty carts at home or his friends’ at school. His “friend”/dealer had told him to wait in here but it was becoming ridiculous.

1 Snapchat Notification: Rizz 🤝

Rizz: “Soot’s on my ass but omw”

Tommy: “dude don’t come in here if Gold is gonna catch us.”

“he already doesn’t like me 💀”

Rizz: “Skill issue he doesn’t think i’m shady.”

“Or at least didnt before this.”

“Honestly Tommy i’d rather save my own ass and give u the shit before he catches me with 16 carts 💀 i’m dealing today i’m way overdue”

Tommy nervously taps his foot in the bathroom stall. He toys with the $50 in his pocket, rolling it up and flattening it. Honestly, he hates the way Rizz deals. His constant lateness, the sloppiness, as if he doesn’t care that this is something serious. This can be a crime if found out by the wrong person, and everyone will be in legal trouble. But to people like Rizz the real world doesn’t exist. The only reason Tommy continues to buy from him is because he gets a $15 discount (Tommy and Rizz’s cousin used to have a thing).

As he fumbles with the airbar in his hand he hears his “friend” walk in. “Open the stall door,” He knocks and Tommy unlocks it. “Here you fucking go.” He drops the cart in Tommy’s hand before opening his palm for the payment.

As he reaches for his pocket, the front bathroom door opens and the boys are sent jumping.

“What’re we doing here?” Gold asks the duo with his arms crossed. The door slams shut behind him.

“I’m paying him back for a meal he bought me last week,” Tommy explains as he gives the money to Rizz. “It was expensive.”

“I can tell. That’s a pretty big wad of cash. How much?”

“$50”

“And how much is a cart?”

“$65, so you can stop being weird about it now.”

“Ok, and so the constant going in and out of the bathrooms, Rizzario… is that just for fun or?”

He puts the money in his pocket. “It’s a pastime of mine. You should see the architecture up in here, truly stunning.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you get a kick out of it. Get to class.”

Tommy’s unfortunate second capture does not deter him from immediately smoking the cart with his friends minutes later in the same stall. He has been waiting for a week and he’ll be damned if he has to wait any longer. The lack of food in his system, along with his slightly reduced tolerance, makes walking to fifth period a little harder than usual.

Immediately upon sitting down it is revealed to Tommy by a kid sitting two seats ahead of him that there’s a test they are taking today and that he’s the only one who could “possibly forget about as big a test as this one.”, and he realizes he’s screwed up when even Aj is caught cramming at the last minute.

“Tommy, are you aware you failed my last test?”

“Yes Mr. Soot, I’m well aware. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you today. I think I’m a pretty good kid. I do my work, I participate in class, and up until this point I have passed every test with flying colors. Please understand that I do try in this class and I’m not afraid to do extra work to get my grade back up. I’m not asking you to just change my score, I’m really wondering if there’s anything I can do to work for my grade.”

Soot turns to face Tommy, taking off his glasses and laughing. “A good kid? I’d hardly call you a good student.”

“What? Are you crazy? I actually do your work. I do more work than anyone else in any of your classes. I’ve never missed homework, or class work, or done poorly on a test before this. I always answer questions in class and respond when you try to have open discussions.”

“And yet, despite all that, you’re not a good student.”

“You’re mental!” Tommy exclaims. “Listen, if you don’t want to tell me where I can get extra credit in my grade, or if you just don’t want me to, then say it! I don’t want nonsense.”

Soot stands from his desk to address Tommy. The silence in the air hangs tight as the man evaluates his words. “You know you’re lying to yourself when you say you’re a good kid.” He finally says. “You know you come into class high every day, with barely any awareness. You babble off in group discussions for minutes on end, related to and not related to the topic. Your homework is subpar at best.”

“At least it’s done, man.”

“We’re not friends, Tommy.”

“Yeah, no shit, I know that. That’s why I came to you in person after class.”

“Mrs. Mark told me you resolve all your issues over email.”

Tommy’s mouth gets dry. Why’s he talking to Mrs. Mark about him? She never liked him much or his tryhard attitude in her stupid Advanced English Language class.

“Did she say I’m a bad kid? I swear she hates me. She’s always picking on me in class.”

“It’s honestly funny Tommy, because if you tried at all you could be such an exceptional student.” His demeanor shifts. Tommy can’t put his finger, but it seems like Gold has something he’s hiding. His mind instantly jumps to things Mrs. Mark could’ve told him. “Everyone keeps telling me that. Clearly it isn’t true if this is me trying.”

The tired teacher throws his hands in the air. “Once again! The lying! You’re so blind to it.” He walks back to his desk from the board for a final time. Throughout his speech he traces the wooden grain on his desk, eyes not leaving the boy’s. “Tommy, listen. You’re such a bright student. You’re wasting yourself with this crap. I know everyone knows you, I understand that you’ve gained quite a highly positive popularity status in this school when it comes to the social hierarchy. But if you just tried you’d see how much more you can do with yourself.”

“Forget it, Soot. I’ll just do better on the next one.”

“Maybe we’ll resolve this over email.” Gold writes out his number on a late pass before handing it to Tommy. “However, I am much more likely to respond over text.”

“No shot.” Kim says as she hands the money to the shopkeeper. “Strawberry Kiwi elf please, love.”

Tommy fumbles, laughing as he pulls out his phone “I swear! Look, it’s saved right here.” He shows her Gold’s contact on his phone, the only texts sent being a “hello” from each of them.

“Then let’s call him.”

“What?”

“If it’s really him, let’s call him. We’ll grab a coffee and walk down to the tracks and call him.” She grabs the box from the cashier. “Thanks, and can we also have…?”

“Cherry Cola Diamond please.” Tommy points to the wall. He reaches over the counter to grab it from the guy. “We can’t just call him. I feel so nervous. What if he’s actually just trying to get me in serious trouble? I mean, look at us.” He points around to the smoke shop they’re in. “This isn’t ok.”

Kim starts walking to the bin down the hall as she unboxes her new toy. “Listen babygirl. Everyone in the school wants that man. You should hear how people talk about him.” She ghosts the nic before dropping it in her cross body bag and strutting out the door, leaving Tommy to catch up. “Bag him, bitch.”

After much debate and argument, finally, at one pm on a saturday, after smoking a joint and walking on the train tracks, Tommy’s finger hovers over the call button.

“Kim, I can’t do it.”

“For christ’s sake,” She hits the button with his finger and puts it on speaker before shooting him an encouraging thumbs up.

As the line rings, Tommy seriously considers laying down on the tracks until the 1:30 pm train hits him.

Finally the line picks up.

The microphone shuffles up against some fabric before becoming clear. Soot’s groggy morning voice seems to burn through his ears.

“Hey, Tommy. Sorry I was sleeping. What’s up?”

He opens his eyes wide and shakes his head no to Kim, who just continues to nod her very adamant yes.

“What am I supposed to say?” He whispers to her.

“Hello?” Soot calls out confused.

“Ask him if he’s free to chat after school tuesday.” She says obviously as she rolls her eyes. Tommy just gives her an almost disgusted look back. “I can’t just… oh my god.” He redirects his voice to the phone. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.” Was all he could manage.

Gold chuckles slightly. “Don’t worry. I needed to wake up anyway to grade all the homeworks.”

“You’re seriously gonna be grading homeworks?”

“No. You caught me.” They both lightly laughed before realizing they seriously don’t know what to say. “Uhm, what are you doing?” Gold finally asks.

“I’m hanging with my friend Kim, we’re under an overpass by the train tracks.”

“You’ll have to show me one day.”

“It’s right across from the school, maybe I’ll show it to you one day during your break.”

Kim squeals through her hands and kicks her legs like a middle school girl watching her friend call their crush.

“Yeah sure, I’d like that… Listen I should probably get my day started so I’ll-”

“Oh yeah no now of course, I understand. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Hope not, we don’t have school.”

“Ahaha, right. Forgot. Sorry, bye Soot.”

“Have fun Tommy,” Soot squeezes in before ending the call.

Tommy looks at Kim with a hatred in his eyes. “That was terrible.”

“…and then she made me call him!” Tommy explains his weekend to the morning bathroom bunch.

“You know Kim loves the drama. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s telling everyone right now!”

“Forreal man, why’d you even tell her that shit?” Kim’s ex boyfriend speaks up. “Trust me, she’s a conniving little shit.”

“I’m like best friends with her twin sister Janie ok? The friendship extends to her. Also she asked me to get nic with her. I couldn't say no, she always pays for me. Everyone thank Kim for the free nic.”

“Thanks Kim”s were mumbled throughout the stall.

Aj shoved Tommy hard enough he falls off the wall. “What did you even say? You can’t end there.”

“I was a nervous wreck! He like woke up to pick up the call and his voice was so fucking hot guys. It caught me so off guard to hear it was like one pm, I don’t know why he was sleeping…”

Tommy spent the remainder of their ten minute morning smoke sesh to fill them in on everything that went down, as well as field questions from his friends.

He wouldn’t lie, he loved it.

Just like with weed, it seemed as though good things only came with getting involved with Gold.

He was putting in good words with all his teachers (including Mrs. Mark!), he was the shit in all of his classes, and everyone wanted to know what was going to happen next.

Gold, as well as the rest of the staff of course, were painfully unaware of the rampant “teacher and student” buzz circling around the smoke clique.

Since Tommy’s last little stint with Gold it’s been one week and three days. Nothing has changed, except for having the favor of every teacher he has a class in. He’s too nervous to take the first step into a possible slippery slope of relations with his teacher (as any normal person would be. But sadly, Tommy is not a normal person, not by a long shot, and he knows this as fact as he lays in bed wondering what it would be like to have Gold 6 inches deep in him)

It’s hard to go to school when everyone thinks you’re fucking the teacher. It was supposed to be a joke, the whole thing; Tommy always chooses one joke a year to be his running gag. He had chosen the gay joke “crush on my teacher” route because of how ludicrous the idea of him and a male teacher ever getting together was to him. It was a joke he often made about the old, prehistoric male teachers he had in ninth year, as well as some of the older women too, though most were married and he always thought it felt wrong to talk like that about them.

The weekend rolled around once more and Tommy spent his time out late at friend’s houses, and finally out until two am on Sunday night. He had begged his parents for hours and when they said yes he didn’t care about the consequences of his decisions.

Finally, reality caught up to Tommy, and for the first time since he first started drinking in eighth grade he wakes up with a hangover. Classes seem damn near impossible to stay awake for. He deems his sunglasses aren’t providing enough darkness and accessorizes with a hat from the lost and found bin, in hopes that now the fifth period fluorescent light combined with seeing Soot’s arms won’t make him vomit all over himself.

He strolls into class three minutes late due to having been kneeled over the side of the toilet in the single stall gender neutral bathrooms just minutes earlier. Apparently it’s clear to everyone in the class he’s a hot mess, because all he can hear is everyone asking him if he’s doing alright. He dismissed each one with a “Yeah, no, just tired. You know how school is.”

Before he knew it he was face down on his keyboard.

Tommy was awakened thirty minutes later to the sound of a bang next to him. Mr. Gold had lifted the desk next to him before dropping it on the ground. “See me after class, Tommy.”

He could probably feel the smirk from Aj’s face even if he was on the other side of the world.

“Really? Falling asleep in class? That’s a new low, even for you.” Gold reprimands him. Tommy stayed. Yes, even he is surprised by it. Usually he’s the first one out the door if a teacher has an issue with him. But something in him almost wanted to hear what he had to say. He was excited for the man to tell him everything he did wrong, how to improve, what to do.

“I’m sorry Mr. Gold. It won’t happen again, I swear.”

They both looked at each other for a minute. “What is your sixth period class?”

“Gym. Such a bore, I hate my teacher so much. She’s so pregnant she can’t even stand near us because she’s scared someone’s gonna hit her.” The two laugh at the situation. “I mean, I can’t help but wonder why she doesn’t just go on maternity leave. Almost all the female gym teachers are pregnant this year.”

“Hey, they got a lot of free time over the summer. What else are they supposed to do?”

“They don’t have to keep fucking like rabbits!” He jokes and they laugh.

Silence once again falls over the room. It’s like something stops them from ever holding a conversation beyond some jokes. They’re too scared to laugh for too long, too scared of being too close, and Tommy’s way too nervous to actually make the first move. Everything relied on Soot.

“Call me Wilbur.”

“What?”

“You can call me Wilbur. William isn’t my first name. Well, it is, but I go by Wilbur.”

“Real quick let me just,” Tommy pulls out his phone from his back pocket and changes Wilbur’s contact name. “I like it. And here, we’ll take a selfie for the photo.”

Tommy turned around and extended his arm to get the two of them in the picture, snapping it before saving all changes. “I think this was a productive chat, Wilbur.”

“Don’t call me that in class or we’ll have issues,” He jokes around (but Tommy feels the difference in the weight of those words). Tommy mocks him before grabbing his bag and heading for the door. “Before you go,” Wilbur stops him just inches shy of the door. “Want to show me that underpass?”

Wilbur called Tommy’s gym teacher, making her aware that the boy was “making up a failed test” and would not be able to attend the period. The two sent off on their walk, Wilbur with his messenger bag and Tommy with some snacks he had in his locker.

Their destination wasn’t far away by any means, but the walk felt like forever as they desperately grasped at straws in order to make small talk.

“So you got a girlfriend?” Wilbur looks at the boy before pulling out his phone. “This is her,” he says, showing a photo of a skinny blonde woman, eyes green, teeth white. “Her name’s-”

“Jenine?”

“Please stop stalking my socials.” Wilbur jokes as he puts the phone away. “But yeah, Jenine. We actually- well, she, actually - decided we should go on a break about four days ago. Took all her shit out of the flat.”

Tommy was taken aback by the demise of their relationship. They seemed really happy from all the posts he saw. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear, man.”

The brunet smiled genuinely. “Nah, don’t worry. Just got more space to put all my useless shit in”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, figured I’d put up shelves to fill the big empty spaces and pile it with games or books or whatever a normal person puts on their shelves.”

“Well what does a non normal person put on their shelves?”

“Youtooz. Way too many to be healthy.”

“I won’t lie, I have a collection too.”

The pair finally arrive on the tracks, Tommy fiddling with the nicotine in his pocket. They’re sat on the weird raised platform under the overpass. The brightly colored graffiti brings some joy to the otherwise desolate area. He passes Wilbur a pack of chips, who was too busy tapping his cigarettes to notice the bag flying at his legs.

“You smoke?” The boy asks his… teacher? That’s a weird thing to ask your teacher. Friend?

He removes a cig from the pack and pulls a lighter out with it. “Yep, since I was fourteen.”

“Same,” He looks up abruptly, eyes wide. What a stupid fucking thing to say! But he has to know already right? (He so desperately wants him to know)

Tommy laughs and looks at the ground. “I mean no! I don’t smoke. Who gave you that idea Soot? Stop asking questions.” He hopes his jokes are funny enough to distract from his truth bomb.

“I know.” Is all Wilbur says as he lights up, a smile spread across his lips. He elects to think the smile is more of a mutual funny smile and less of a smile you’d give a child who’s rambling.

Tommy looks around as he internally debates ripping his diamond. Is it worth it? I mean, the guy knows. He’s lighting up in front of his face. He’s gotta be ok with him ripping nic right? They’re off school property.

Finally he lifts the nic to his lips and takes a hit. He avoids eye contact with the man in hopes it eases the anxiety he feels.

The teacher looks over at the boy and puts down his cigarette, smoke drifting through the air in sultry clouds that Tommy can’t help but lavish in. “I’m gonna write you up for that,” Wilbur laughs through his exhale. “Naughty.”

Tommy’s breath catches in his throat as he’s inhaling and coughs violently. He plays it off, mumbling about some “shitty flavor” under his breath, looking at the man in an attempt to ignore his reaction. “So, Soot, is it often you smoke with kids?”

“I wouldn’t say often, but I’m no stranger to taking a smoke with a student in the ’lot.” He grabs another cigarette from his pack and lights it with his dying one. “Chain smoking without worries is my favorite, though. This is a really nice spot. Did you know we’re not allowed to smoke anywhere near the school property as teachers?”

“I mean kinda makes sense, but what’s considered “near” the lot?”

“I guess anything within fifteen hundred meters of the school? I’m just assuming. I think they don’t want us to set a bad example. Mrs. Moore got caught smoking out of her car window and it was a whole big thing with the head.”

“What’d they say?”

The train begins to chug down the tracks at them. “Threatened to put her on suspension until she stopped smoking. I don’t know how they’d even enforce that though.”

The loud woosh of the train fills their ears, unable to do much but wait for it to pass by. Tommy waves violently at the passengers. Wilbur joins him. “You always do that?”

“Sometimes,” He shrugs (he always does, he knows he’d be so happy if he saw someone waving at him from the tracks, but he won’t tell him that, because he’s not a kid, and he’s had enough oversharing for one day)

“So,” Wilbur clicks his tongue. “How’d you find this spot?”

Tommy flips the vape over in his hands as a fidget. “I was walking around with friends one day, trying to find a new smoke spot for our spiff, and we stumbled across this.”

The man stretched out his legs, changing positions to sit slightly closer. “And the Do Not Enter sign didn’t deter you guys?”

Tommy didn’t notice the shift. “Wilbur, we were going to smoke a joint. I don’t think a stupid sign is really our concern.”

“So instead of one felony, you guys decided on two?”

“Either way we’re fucked,” He laughed. “Can’t imagine underage illegal substance use is too great of a look in court.”

“Trust me, it isn’t that bad. You can manage to get yourself some community service and occasional drug tests for two months.” Tommy hit his shoulder lightly “Speaking from experience?” Wilbur pretends it was harder than it was, knocking himself over slightly. “And what if I said yeah?”

“Naughty.” (he can feel the adrenaline rush to his head as the words leave his mouth)

The teacher smiles at his pupil and shakes his head. “What about it? Gremlin.”

He’s glad he didn’t cross a line. And he can’t wait to tell everyone about this in the morning.

Wilbur turns to face Tommy. “I don’t want to cross a line, but you’re a great kid Tommy. Do you want to possibly get a coffee together some time?’

“I’d be more than happy to.” They exchange a brief glance at each other’s lips, a passing second neither notice, and hope the other didn’t catch them. They continue to discuss location and time before they begin a slow walk back to the school ground to continue their day.

Morning smoke circles are a different type of friendship. The type where you gossip, even if you aren’t a gossiper. Everything you know is shared knowledge. Nothing is a secret, and you spill it all in the hazy fog of morning brain before classes. You spend ten minutes hyping each other up to get to class despite your lateness. You tell them about your weekend, your weekday, your classwork, your romance, your life story.

So it was no surprise that the next morning the first thing everyone heard about was Tommy’s escapades by the tracks.

Tommy entered into school the following days, elated and on top of the world. A week passed before he realized he bombed a really important math test he took the day after he met with Wilbur. He had been so caught up in the whole “hanging out with his teacher” thing he completely forgot to study. But he thought he did well!

He went to talk to the math teacher after class that Thursday, but it was no use. He spent the rest of his day on the verge of tears. The only stain left on his record for this quarter.

The next morning he and his friends met up in the E hall bathroom before classes started and began talking about all the other drama happening at the moment.

It’s not like he remembers it, though, and he wakes back up in his third period architecture class, slumped on Nathan’s arm, in the middle of a lecture from his teacher.

“Are you even listening to a word i’m saying?”

He looks up at Nathan before looking back at her. His brain is still catching up to become conscious.

“I- I um…”

“Repeat what I said.”

The silence fills the room, minus the snickering coming from three annoying girls in the corner. (He doesn’t know. Truthfully! He might as well have just randomly walked in now and he’d probably know more.)

But Nathan pulled away, and before he knew it he was yanked up by the arm and told to get out.

There were still 30 minutes of class left (apparently), and he was still tired, so he decided to pay a visit to his dear friend, the art teacher.

Well, he wasn’t really his friend. He just knew a spot to sleep in. But Rizzo can’t keep his mouth shut. For the second time in the same period he was pushed out of a classroom for misbehaving.

So bathrooms it was, and on his way down he passed a familiar guard he regularly chatted with. They waved and stopped to talk about their days, their summers and the upcoming break. The guard walked him as far as the bathroom door and they said bye.

Tommy hears mumbling in a stall before a meek “Is there a guard?” is heard.

“Nah it’s all good guys,” He walks up to the stall door and puts his foot under. “Let me in.”

They open the door and Tommy drops to one knee to get his airbar. “Hurry the fuck up, man.”

“Trust me, I’m always safe.”

As he stands, he turns to see the door opening.

And if he was any less high, he definitely could’ve come up with something good to get them out of trouble.

But he wasn’t. He was really high.

And now he was still high.

But sitting in the dean’s office.

Somewhere between getting caught and getting put in the room, Tommy blacked out. But he was here now and there was nothing he could say or do to leave without talking to him.

Like, the big guy. The man who could absolutely obliterate any hope of a future Tommy had (well, what any little of it there was).

The dean came in and sat directly across from Tommy,

jump #1

Tommy sits on the freezing bathroom stall tile. It looks clean enough to sit on, and he hopes the wet feeling on the back of his leg is actually just his imagination. His bag is over in the corner and his jumper is blocking the awkward vent between the door and the floor that someone might be able to see him through.

The smell of marijuanna that has permeated into the walls of the gender neutral bathroom made his head spin. Tommy couldn’t help but feel slightly bad. What was supposed to be a bathroom for people became a smoke spot. However, it doesn’t stop him from pulling out the crack wire from his bag and hooking it up to his school computer.

He turns the cool glass over in his hands and traces the black mouthpiece. It was almost empty and he didn’t have another 50 to drop. As he places the wires in their appropriate spots he pulls out his phone.

The glass heats up and he takes a hit as he types out a message to his dear friend.

Wilbur (US HISTORY)

> can i have a fifty

He knows he won’t respond. It was a dumb thought to even ask him, he fucked up the second he sent the text. Wilbur isn’t dumb. He’ll know it’s for a cart. There’s no way in hell he’d go as far as supplying the boy with drug money.

Wilbur (US HISTORY)

> can i have a fifty

< I’ll give it to you

after class, ok?

Tommy waits behind after class. Aj’s confused look as he walks out the door is all it takes for his stomach to get queasy again.

Soon enough the room clears out and all that’s left is the boy and the teacher.

“Fifty dollars?” Wilbur asks from his desk, rummaging in his bag for his wallet. Tommy nods. He can’t seem to get words out today, his muteness being noted by not just his classmates but his teachers as well.

But Wilbur doesn’t pry. That’s what he likes about him; he doesn’t need to speak what he needs out loud. He seems to just know.

Wilbur motions for the boy to approach the desk and so he does. Opening the front pocket of his backpack he drops the cash in.

“Do you at least get it safely?”

He nods.

“Are you ok?”

He doesn’t nod.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

jump #2

“Tommy, do you know why I wear these?”

Tommy, confused, replies no.

“I like them. I like to think that people perceive me differently. Smarter, cuter, more approachable. But it’s a guise. They’re just glasses. They aren’t actually doing anything for me. You’re not a good student Tommy. You have some serious underlying issues that you’re just self medicating with weed and nicotine and adrenaline rushes, and you think it’s doing something. You try to trick yourself into thinking you’re a good student just like I try to trick myself into thinking these do something for me.” He picks up the glasses before setting them back down. “I don’t know if you’re really all that ‘good’ of a student.”

“I do everything you ask!” Tommy yells. “I have literally done everything you’ve asked. Do you understand how stressful school was for me? Do you understand I had nearly no future in school before this? I was skipping my classes constantly to game and play with my friends. I couldn’t sit still or focus in class ever. Information never made sense. I have found what works for me. One day I’ll be old enough to learn I don’t need it to function. I’ll have options and resources available to get help. I don’t right now though. I have to work with what I have. Something isn’t right up there and weed fixes it. Sorry if you don’t like it but that’s how it is.”

“Tommy, you act like I dont smoke weed myself! I know what it’s like!”

Tommy falls silent. He furrows his brow and contorts his face. “You’re an actual teahead?”

“Why do you think I gave you that fifty? Why do you think I never actually bust anyone? Tommy, I get it. I did the exact same thing. I still do. The only way I can ever grade all of your shitty homeworks is if I’m high. And I know what it’s like when there isn’t any other option because I didn’t have any. I want to find you what you need.”

“Probably a psych evaluation.”, Tommy laughs to himself. “I’m serious, Tommy.”

“Wilbur, I truly appreciate the concern. But “teacher helping me find myself” wasn’t exactly in my life plan. It’s all laid out perfectly, I just have to make it to 18.”

Wilbur stares in disbelief. “Living every day just to make it to eighteen isn’t any way to live. Barely making it through your weekdays just to party on the weekends isn’t healthy.”

“No shit sherlock.”

“I think I will get you a psych evaluation if you keep talking back”

“Alright, fine.”

jump #3

Wilbur’s palm lightly trailed up the boy’s stomach. “Is this ok?” he whispered breathlessly into his ear.

“Yes, yes. Please.” Tommy clenched his jaw. He hadn’t felt like this… hell, ever. He could hear the man chuckle. “Already? I haven’t even gotten to the good part baby.”

The way he said baby, fuck it drove him mad. It was just utterly intoxicating. His head floated from the weed as his nervous system went haywire.

Slowly Wilbur covered the boy with his body more, closing in on him on the couch. Tommy’s lungs burned from the green rip as he desperately tried to steady his breathing, the marijuana smell only making it harder to catch.

“Fuck, this is good shit, Wil.” Tommy’s hands were now in the man’s hair, not moving but instead paralyzed on top. Wilbur slowly started kissing up his neck. “Only peng for myself,” he laughed lightly. “And for you.” He deepened the kiss in the crook of the boy’s neck, hungry to taste him. “Where’s your usual witty banter kid?”

“Kid? I ain’t no kid. I’m a-“ he wheezed lightly. “I’m a man.”

Wilbur couldn’t help but genuinely laugh. “Nevermind, limit your talking. It won’t be needed.”

“And why’s that?”

“Well, you can’t talk when you’re making out.” He lifted Tommy’s lips to his, lightly testing the waters before jumping in. All composure Tommy had now left, and he didn’t mind at all. His hands grabbed the man’s woven jumper, one he often wore during the winter months of classes. Imagine after sitting in that cold class all day, he went over to his room and warmed him up? Filling the room with sex and sweat? He couldn’t help but moan at the possibilities they’d opened.

Wilbur disconnected the kiss to feel up Tommy’s sides again. “Fuck, you’re so cute. Such a good boy, just for me.” The boy couldn’t help but whine at the comment, grinding his hips up. Fuck, he was Wilbur’s good boy. His. He had waited for this since december.

Hot lips pressed against his ear. “How do you feel about taking this further?”

His eyes widened. How far?

“What do you want?” Tommy’s throat went dry thinking of everything he wanted, what he would beg for.

“Mister Soot, I- please, fuck me.”

The older smiles into the boy’s body. “You really want it?”

He nods his head viciously. How could he tell him he’s been wanting this for months now? That he’s been dreaming about it since he first laid eyes on him?

“I know you’ve been waiting for this.” He travels down the boy’s

[problematicfanfics]

Kinktober ‘22 Oct 3. Teacher/Student (WIP)

TOMBUR, 17!Tom 26!Wil, power imbalance, high school, drug use

no NSFW (yet)

lots of jumping around since it’s unfinished, ignore all errors

* ⋆★

Tommy wouldn’t necessarily call himself a good kid.

He would do his homework. He attended all of his classes. He’s averaged an A so far the entire year. So yes, by textbook definition, Tommy was a good kid.

1 Snapchat Notification: Anthony 🤯

“Right before p5 meet C hall bthrm”

“Bring cart Nathan feening 💀”

But he knew the only reason he ever made it through the day was thanks to his passing period restroom stops.

Anyone attending a “Western” high school can explain to you the ins and outs of the passing period bathroom breaks all the teens line up for. Each group eagerly awaits for a friend who has the supply.

And if you’re painfully unaware of the dark market being run in every bathroom stall, Tommy loves to explain it as a “social thing”. He’s just generally a better person like this. It’s an easy conversation starter, a fast in, a way to curry favor with more well-known kids in his school.

And he’s realized his grades have never been better.

Ever since he started smoking weed in his tenth year, he’s found he’s a rather studious smoker. His grades improved dramatically. Math seemed to make sense and he wasn’t struggling with anxiety from his testing. Stiff seats are easy to sit still in when your body finally relaxes. Class notes now fit smoothly in his brain between his knowledge of minecraft and song lyrics. Nothing negative seemed to be coming of his habits, despite the fear he gets from running in this little underground market. Passing a teacher in the halls can be a normal life versus permanent felony situation if they so much as ask to search his bag.

“…that fucking bitch doesn’t know her left from her right. Mate, I swear to God, she asked my chemistry teacher which one is which.”

Tommy chokes on the nicotine he’s hitting, lungs collapse into laughter. Promptly he erupts into a fit of coughing

“Yo, dude, get that checked out…” One of his friends in the stall next door said. “Ha, as if. Imagine being like… ‘Hey mum, my nicotine addiction might be affecting my health, mind if we take a look at it down at the ol’ doctor’s office?’”

The stalls laugh at the absurdity of ever revealing this secret to their parents.

Who cares if he’s started coughing from the metal shards when he laughs?

The day he truly understands he’s a functioning addict is when he makes his fifth stop in the C hall restrooms, waiting for his friend Jay while squatting on the toilet, as his other friend pretends to be doing “normal stall things” (as he puts it).

He knows the risks every time, six boys crammed into a stall to trade flavors and discuss about the girls they want and the bitches they hate, the snake “friends” who rat out others and the teachers they despise. He’s always ready to jump to shut everyone up when a teacher walks in. Sometimes, however, his guard falls.

Fifth period Tommy attends a US History class, something he had wanted to take since he saw it was an available course. His love for the subject, plus his new found study buddy, made the class a perfect choice in his mind.

Tommy didn’t mind attending the class. It had taken him upwards of three weeks to learn the teacher’s name (Mr. Gold, but the class called him Soot), and who he was (he was hired by the school three years ago and has been a teacher ever since), and his love life (he has a girlfriend, but all his classes found a picture of her on his instagram and they think he can do better).

He didn’t, however, have a hard time committing Soot’s appearance to memory.

His curly hair fell perfectly every day without a fail. The tight button up shirts he wore required him to roll up his sleeves if he ever wanted any relief from the room’s broken AC. It’s hard for Tommy to not follow his hands switching between the board and the lesson plan on his desk.

He’d be lying if he didn’t say he thinks that Mr. Gold was finer than the heavens. It seemed to be a popular debate in this girl’s restroom, too; was Mr. Gold hot or was it just the power dynamic?

As Tommy sits with his legs up between the railing and the wall, inhaling his cart like it was his life force in preparation for his fifth period class, he turns his phone for his friends to see. “You can’t tell me he isn’t hot!” He says as he gives the phone over to an equally contorted friend of his. “Gold? Tommy, you’re crazy. He isn’t that hot.”

“Listen I’m not gay but I’d be a victim. I’m just saying.” Tommy takes the phone back as he preheats the battery. One of his friends nods in agreement.

As the debate continues over the attractiveness levels of Wilbur's instagram posts, Tommy pulls up an old high school yearbook photo of the man. “You can’t say you wouldn’t want William Gold to fuck you, I honestly think I give this man fuck me eyes in class accidentally.” Tommy practically yells to prove his point to Aj.

Suddenly, a loud presence enters the bathroom.

“Ok, I know there’s more than one of you in there. Everybody out.”

The boys look around nervously to one another as Tommy holds back laughter. That is definitely Soot.

There is a tense pause. No one wants to respond out of fear of punishment (and slightly because he had to have overheard the conversation they were just having). “Guys, I’m not playing games here. Let’s go. We can take this to the head if we need.”

Quickly the boys hop down from their acrobatic positions and grab their backpacks.

“One, two, three of you!” Mr. Gold sighs at the sight. “Wow, no! There’s more! Five? SIX? There were six of you in there? My God it’s like a fucking clown car.”

The boys shift nervously under his look. “Listen, I don’t care. It’s just protocol. You’re lucky I’m not taking you down to the counselor, it smells like weed in here.” Everyone exchanges quick looks as they continue to try to hide the obvious vapes inside their hoodie sleeves.

“So you just… don’t care?” Tommy pipes up. His friends shoot him scathing looks, as if telling him to not push their luck and get out while they can.

Wilbur seems taken aback by the question. “Well, it’s not that I don’t care, it’s just… Listen, don’t say I’m letting you guys smoke in the stalls. I’m not. I just think you’re smart enough to not be dumb with it again.”

“But if you were truly concerned for our safety wouldn’t you confiscate our shit?”

“Listen, this is great energy Tommy, how about you keep it up in class and stop giving me fuck me eyes the entire period. I get you’re high but try a little harder.”

The entire bathroom goes silent before erupting into laughter. People with no business in the situation Tommy can hear snicker in the background.

“I’ll make sure to have you work for your money today.” Tommy says before Gold shrugs him off to prepare for his incoming class.

“I am so sorry you have to attend his class now.” Tommy’s buddy Nathan pats him on the back. “The sexual tension during lessons boutta go crazy” Aj jokes as he motions Tommy to head to class with him.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Tommy says as he sits in front of the classroom door with his head in his hands. “How do I look him in the eyes? I’ll just skip class by going to the nurse.”

Aj jumps in front of him before he can leave. “We’re already five minutes late. Please let’s just go in. The longer you wait the worse it gets and you know that.” Tommy reevaluated his choices before finally agreeing that Aj was, in fact, right, and that they should attend class.

“Tom Simons, nice of you to join us.” Soot singles him out in the middle of his lesson. Tommy’s equally guilty friend slips into the back of the classroom undetected. “Please, take a seat.” The sarcasm drips from his lips.

Tommy sits in his usual seat far in the back next to Aj. The work was boring mundane class stuff. They used their laptops to research the battles fought during the American Independence War and Tommy finished within the first three minutes.

Tommy raises his hand to gloat to his teacher, ready for the victory as he tells Soot his work is “too easy” and to “give him a challenge.”

“I’m done, easy shit.” Tommy says when Soot finally strolls his way over to the seat. He wasn’t prepared for Wilbur to lean over behind him to read, or the way he said “Good job, Tommy” as he got up (he can’t help but imagine him whispering “good boy” into his ear).

His eyes shoot up to meet Wilbur’s. Every quick retort he had loaded to fire falters. He feels like he needs to say something.

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Weren’t you just in there?” Soot makes a sarcastic sad face to mock Tommy’s surprised expression. “I remembered hearing a conversation about being a victim, if I’m not mistaken?”

Aj laughs as Tommy goes pale and forcefully chuckles. “Hey, haha, listen man, I-”

“Ok everyone, please discuss with the person next to you the notes you should have completed by now.” He redirects his attention back to the class, the low tone now projecting off the walls indicating he was referring to everyone.

Tommy turns to face his friend on his left. His shit eating grin left Tommy regretting his entire day.

“Can you send me the answers? I was too busy watching the in house entertainment”

About a week had passed since Tommy was caught, and he was being as careful as possible. Last thing he needed was another run in.

His fourth period lunch left quite a lot to be desired; in the mornings he was never hungry. Instead he fills himself with flavored air, weed, and a severely diluted once-iced coffee.

The lunch period only housed one friend every day, but on alternating days up to seven people would sit with them for lunch. Either way he was too high to notice anything happening around him. No difference was it to him if there was one or eight people, as long as he was being supplied the bodies didn’t matter.

These alternating days with a lot of people leads to everyone slowly making their way to the bathrooms after eating, using it as a pit stop and waiting out the remainder of their time.

Tommy had been waiting since 10:15, and the period ends at 10:30. He was finally getting his new cart today. For the last week he was either smoking scraps from all his empty carts at home or his friends’ at school. His “friend”/dealer had told him to wait in here but it was becoming ridiculous.

1 Snapchat Notification: Rizz 🤝

Rizz: “Soot’s on my ass but omw”

Tommy: “dude don’t come in here if Gold is gonna catch us.”

“he already doesn’t like me 💀”

Rizz: “Skill issue he doesn’t think i’m shady.”

“Or at least didnt before this.”

“Honestly Tommy i’d rather save my own ass and give u the shit before he catches me with 16 carts 💀 i’m dealing today i’m way overdue”

Tommy nervously taps his foot in the bathroom stall. He toys with the $50 in his pocket, rolling it up and flattening it. Honestly, he hates the way Rizz deals. His constant lateness, the sloppiness, as if he doesn’t care that this is something serious. This can be a crime if found out by the wrong person, and everyone will be in legal trouble. But to people like Rizz the real world doesn’t exist. The only reason Tommy continues to buy from him is because he gets a $15 discount (Tommy and Rizz’s cousin used to have a thing).

As he fumbles with the airbar in his hand he hears his “friend” walk in. “Open the stall door,” He knocks and Tommy unlocks it. “Here you fucking go.” He drops the cart in Tommy’s hand before opening his palm for the payment.

As he reaches for his pocket, the front bathroom door opens and the boys are sent jumping.

“What’re we doing here?” Gold asks the duo with his arms crossed. The door slams shut behind him.

“I’m paying him back for a meal he bought me last week,” Tommy explains as he gives the money to Rizz. “It was expensive.”

“I can tell. That’s a pretty big wad of cash. How much?”

“$50”

“And how much is a cart?”

“$65, so you can stop being weird about it now.”

“Ok, and so the constant going in and out of the bathrooms, Rizzario… is that just for fun or?”

He puts the money in his pocket. “It’s a pastime of mine. You should see the architecture up in here, truly stunning.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you get a kick out of it. Get to class.”

Tommy’s unfortunate second capture does not deter him from immediately smoking the cart with his friends minutes later in the same stall. He has been waiting for a week and he’ll be damned if he has to wait any longer. The lack of food in his system, along with his slightly reduced tolerance, makes walking to fifth period a little harder than usual.

Immediately upon sitting down it is revealed to Tommy by a kid sitting two seats ahead of him that there’s a test they are taking today and that he’s the only one who could “possibly forget about as big a test as this one.”, and he realizes he’s screwed up when even Aj is caught cramming at the last minute.

“Tommy, are you aware you failed my last test?”

“Yes Mr. Soot, I’m well aware. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you today. I think I’m a pretty good kid. I do my work, I participate in class, and up until this point I have passed every test with flying colors. Please understand that I do try in this class and I’m not afraid to do extra work to get my grade back up. I’m not asking you to just change my score, I’m really wondering if there’s anything I can do to work for my grade.”

Soot turns to face Tommy, taking off his glasses and laughing. “A good kid? I’d hardly call you a good student.”

“What? Are you crazy? I actually do your work. I do more work than anyone else in any of your classes. I’ve never missed homework, or class work, or done poorly on a test before this. I always answer questions in class and respond when you try to have open discussions in class.”

“And yet, despite all that, you’re not a good student.”

“You’re mental!” Tommy exclaims. “Listen, if you don’t want to tell me where I can get extra credit in my grade, or if you just don’t want me to, then say it! I don’t want nonsense.”

Soot stands from his desk to address Tommy. The silence in the air hangs tight as the man evaluates his words. “You know you’re lying to yourself when you say you’re a good kid.” He finally says. “You know you come into class high every day, with barely any awareness. You babble off in group discussions for minutes on end, related to and not related to the topic. Your homework is subpar at best.”

“At least it’s done, man.”

“We’re not friends, Tommy.”

“Yeah, no shit, I know that. That’s why I came to you in person after class.”

“Mrs. Mark told me you resolve all your issues over email.”

Tommy’s mouth gets dry. Why’s he talking to Mrs. Mark about him? She never liked him much or his tryhard attitude in her stupid Advanced English Language class.

“Did she say I’m a bad kid? I swear she hates me. She’s always picking on me in class.”

“It’s honestly funny Tommy, because if you tried at all you could be such an exceptional student.” His demeanor shifts. Tommy can’t put his finger, but it seems like Gold has something he’s hiding. His mind instantly jumps to things Mrs. Mark could’ve told him. “Everyone keeps telling me that. Clearly it isn’t true if this is me trying.”

The tired teacher throws his hands in the air. “Once again! The lying! You’re so blind to it.” He walks back to his desk from the board for a final time. Throughout his speech he traces the wooden grain on his desk, eyes not leaving the boy’s. “Tommy, listen. You’re such a bright student. You’re wasting yourself with this crap. I know everyone knows you, I understand that you’ve gained quite a highly positive popularity status in this school when it comes to the social hierarchy. But if you just tried you’d see how much more you can do with yourself.”

“Forget it, Soot. I’ll just do better on the next one.”

“Maybe we’ll resolve this over email.” Gold writes out his number on a late pass before handing it to Tommy. “However, I am much more likely to respond over text.”

“No shot.” Kim says as she hands the money to the shopkeeper. “Strawberry Kiwi elf please, love.”

Tommy fumbles, laughing as he pulls out his phone “I swear! Look, it’s saved right here.” He shows her Gold’s contact on his phone, the only texts sent being a “hello” from each of them.

“Then let’s call him.”

“What?”

“If it’s really him, let’s call him. We’ll grab a coffee and walk down to the tracks and call him.” She grabs the box from the cashier. “Thanks, and can we also have…?”

“Cherry Cola Diamond please.” Tommy points to the wall. He reaches over the counter to grab it from the guy. “We can’t just call him. I feel so nervous. What if he’s actually just trying to get me in serious trouble? I mean, look at us.” He points around to the smoke shop they’re in. “This isn’t ok.”

Kim starts walking to the bin down the hall as she unboxes her new toy. “Listen babygirl. Everyone in the school wants that man. You should hear how people talk about him.” She ghosts the nic before dropping it in her cross body bag and strutting out the door, leaving Tommy to catch up. “Bag him, bitch.”

After much debate and argument, finally, at one pm on a saturday, after smoking a joint and walking on the train tracks, Tommy’s finger hovers over the call button.

“Kim, I can’t do it.”

“For christ’s sake,” She hits the button with his finger and puts it on speaker before shooting him an encouraging thumbs up.

As the line rings, Tommy seriously considers laying down on the tracks until the 1:30 pm train hits him.

Finally the line picks up.

The microphone shuffles up against some fabric before becoming clear. Soot’s groggy morning voice seems to burn through his ears.

“Hey, Tommy. Sorry I was sleeping. What’s up?”

He opens his eyes wide and shakes his head no to Kim, who just continues to nod her very adamant yes.

“What am I supposed to say?” He whispers to her.

“Hello?” Soot calls out confused.

“Ask him if he’s free to chat after school tuesday.” She says obviously as she rolls her eyes. Tommy just gives her an almost disgusted look back. “I can’t just… oh my god.” He redirects his voice to the phone. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.” Was all he could manage.

Gold chuckles slightly. “Don’t worry. I needed to wake up anyway to grade all the homeworks.”

“You’re seriously gonna be grading homeworks?”

“No. You caught me.” They both lightly laughed before realizing they seriously don’t know what to say. “Uhm, what are you doing?” Gold finally asks.

“I’m hanging with my friend Kim, we’re under an overpass by the train tracks.”

“You’ll have to show me one day.”

“It’s right across from the school, maybe I’ll show it to you one day during your break.”

Kim squeals through her hands and kicks her legs like a middle school girl watching her friend call their crush.

“Yeah sure, I’d like that… Listen I should probably get my day started so I’ll-”

“Oh yeah no now of course, I understand. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Hope not, we don’t have school.”

“Ahaha, right. Forgot. Sorry, bye Soot.”

“Have fun Tommy,” Soot squeezes in before ending the call.

Tommy looks at Kim with a hatred in his eyes. “That was terrible.”

“…and then she made me call him!” Tommy explains his weekend to the morning bathroom bunch.

“You know Kim loves the drama. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s telling everyone right now!”

“Forreal man, why’d you even tell her that shit?” Kim’s ex boyfriend speaks up. “Trust me, she’s a conniving little shit.”

“I’m like best friends with her twin sister Janie ok? The friendship extends to her. Also she asked me to get nic with her. I couldn't say no, she always pays for me. Everyone thank Kim for the free nic.”

“Thanks Kim”s were mumbled throughout the stall.

Aj shoved Tommy hard enough he falls off the wall. “What did you even say? You can’t end there.”

“I was a nervous wreck! He like woke up to pick up the call and his voice was so fucking hot guys. It caught me so off guard to hear it was like one pm, I don’t know why he was sleeping…”

Tommy spent the remainder of their ten minute morning smoke sesh to fill them in on everything that went down, as well as field questions from his friends.

He wouldn’t lie, he loved it.

Just like with weed, it seemed as though good things only came with getting involved with Gold.

He was putting in good words with all his teachers (including Mrs. Mark!), he was the shit in all of his classes, and everyone wanted to know what was going to happen next.

Gold, as well as the rest of the staff of course, were painfully unaware of the rampant “teacher and student” buzz circling around the smoke circles.

Since Tommy’s last little stint with Gold it’s been one week and three days. Nothing has changed, except for having the favor of every teacher he has a class in. He’s too nervous to take the first step into a possible slippery slope of relations with his teacher (as any normal person would be. But sadly, Tommy is not a normal person, not by a long shot, and he knows this as fact as he lays in bed wondering what it would be like to have Gold 6 inches deep in him)

It’s hard to go to school when everyone thinks you’re fucking the teacher. It was supposed to be a joke, the whole thing; Tommy always chooses one joke a year to be his running gag. He had chosen the gay joke “crush on my teacher” route because of how ludicrous the idea of him and a male teacher ever getting together was to him. It was a joke he often made about the old, prehistoric male teachers he had in ninth year, as well as some of the older women too, though most were married and he always thought it felt wrong to talk like that about them.

The weekend rolled around once more and Tommy spent his time out late at friend’s houses, and finally out until two am on Sunday night. He had begged his parents for hours and when they said yes he didn’t care about the consequences of his decisions.

Finally, reality caught up to Tommy, and for the first time since he first started drinking in eighth grade he wakes up with a hangover. Classes seem damn near impossible to stay awake for. He deems his sunglasses aren’t providing enough darkness and accessorizes with a hat from the lost and found bin, in hopes that now the fifth period fluorescent light combined with seeing Soot’s arms won’t make him vomit all over himself.

He strolls into class three minutes late due to having been kneeled over the side of the toilet in the single stall gender neutral bathrooms just minutes earlier. Apparently it’s clear to everyone in the class he’s a hot mess, because all he can hear is everyone asking him if he’s doing alright. He dismissed each one with a “Yeah, no, just tired. You know how school is.”

Before he knew it he was face down on his keyboard.

Tommy was awakened thirty minutes later to the sound of a bang next to him. Mr. Gold had lifted the entire desk combo before dropping it on the ground. “See me after class, Tommy.”

He could probably feel the smirk from Aj’s face even if he was on the other side of the world.

“Really? Falling asleep in class? That’s a new low, even for you.” Gold reprimands him. Tommy stayed. Yes, even he is surprised by it. Usually he’s the first one out the door if a teacher has an issue with him. But something in him almost wanted to hear what he had to say. He was excited for the man to tell him everything he did wrong, how to improve, what to do.

“I’m sorry Mr. Gold. It won’t happen again, I swear.”

They both looked at each other for a minute. “What is your sixth period class?”

“Gym. Such a bore, I hate my teacher so much. She’s so pregnant she can’t even stand near us because she’s scared someone’s gonna hit her.” The two laugh at the situation. “I mean, I can’t help but wonder why she doesn’t just go on maternity leave. Almost all the female gym teachers are pregnant this year.”

“Hey, they got a lot of free time over the summer. What else are they supposed to do?”

“They don’t have to keep fucking like rabbits!” He jokes and they laugh.

Silence once again falls over the room. It’s like something stops them from ever holding a conversation beyond some jokes. They’re too scared to laugh for too long, too scared of being too close, and Tommy’s way too nervous to actually make the first move. Everything relied on Soot.

“Call me Wilbur.”

“What?”

“You can call me Wilbur. William isn’t my first name. Well, it is, but I go by Wilbur.”

“Real quick let me just,” Tommy pulls out his phone from his back pocket and changes Wilbur’s contact name. “I like it. And here, we’ll take a selfie for the photo.”

Tommy turned around and extended his arm to get the two of them in the picture, snapping it before saving all changes. “I think this was a productive chat, Wilbur.”

“Don’t call me that in class or we’ll have issues,” He jokes around (but Tommy feels the difference in the weight of those words). Tommy mocks him before grabbing his bag and heading for the door. “Before you go,” Wilbur stops him just inches shy of the door. “Want to show me that underpass?”

Wilbur called Tommy’s gym teacher, making her aware that the boy was “making up a failed test” and would not be able to attend the period. The two sent off on their walk, Wilbur with his messenger bag and Tommy with some snacks he had in his locker.

Their destination wasn’t far away by any means, but the walk felt like forever as they desperately grasped at straws in order to make small talk.

“So you got a girlfriend?” Wilbur looks at the boy before pulling out his phone. “This is her,” he says, showing a photo of a skinny blonde woman, eyes green, teeth white. “Her name’s-”

“Jenine?”

“Please stop stalking my socials.” Wilbur jokes as he puts the phone away. “But yeah, Jenine. We actually- well, she, actually - decided we should go on a break about four days ago. Took all her shit out of the flat.”

Tommy was taken aback by the demise of their relationship. They seemed really happy from all the posts he saw. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear, man.”

The brunet smiled genuinely. “Nah, don’t worry. Just got more space to put all my useless shit in”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, figured I’d put up shelves to fill the big empty spaces and pile it with games or books or whatever a normal person puts on their shelves.”

“Well what does a non normal person put on their shelves?”

“Youtooz. Way too many to be healthy.”

“I won’t lie, I have a collection too.”

jump #1

Tommy sits on the freezing bathroom stall tile. It looks clean enough to sit on, and he hopes the wet feeling on the back of his leg is actually just his imagination. His bag is over in the corner and his jumper is blocking the awkward vent between the door and the floor that someone might be able to see him through.

The smell of marijuanna that has permeated into the walls of the gender neutral bathroom made his head spin. Tommy couldn’t help but feel slightly bad. What was supposed to be a bathroom for people became a smoke spot. However, it doesn’t stop him from pulling out the crack wire from his bag and hooking it up to his school computer.

He turns the cool glass over in his hands and traces the black mouthpiece. It was almost empty and he didn’t have another 50 to drop. As he places the wires in their appropriate spots he pulls out his phone.

The glass heats up and he takes a hit as he types out a message to his dear friend.

Wilbur (US HISTORY)

can i have a fifty

He knows he won’t respond. It was a dumb thought to even ask him, he fucked up the second he sent the text. Wilbur isn’t dumb. He’ll know it’s for a cart. There’s no way in hell he’d go as far as supplying the boy with drugs.

Wilbur (US HISTORY)

can i have a fifty

I’ll give it to you

after class, ok?

Tommy waits behind after class. Aj’s confused look as he walks out the door is all it takes for his stomach to get queasy again.

jump #2

“Tommy, do you know why I never wear these?”

Tommy, confused, replies no.

“I hate them. I like to think that if I just pretend I don’t need them my eyes will be able to see just fine again. Like a common cold, my eyes will just get over it. But that’s not true, obviously, as we know. You’re not a good student Tommy. You have some serious underlying issues that you’re just self medicating with weed and nicotine and adrenaline rushes. You try to trick yourself into thinking you’re a good student just like I try to trick myself into thinking I don’t need these.” He picks up the glasses before setting them back down. “I don’t know if you’re really all that ‘good’ of a student.”

“I do everything you ask!” Tommy yells. “I have literally done everything you’ve asked. Do you understand how stressful school was for me? Do you understand I had nearly no future in school before this? I was skipping my classes constantly to game and play with my friends. I couldn’t sit still or focus in class ever. Information never made sense. I have found what works for me. One day I’ll be old enough to learn I don’t need it to function. I’ll have options and resources available to get help. I don’t right now though. I have to work with what I have. Something isn’t right up there and weed fixes it. Sorry if you don’t like it but that’s how it is.”

“Tommy, you act like I dont smoke weed myself! I know what it’s like!”

Tommy falls silent. He furrows his brow and contorts his face. “You smoke?”

“Why do you think I gave you that fifty? Why do you think I never actually bust anyone? Tommy, I get it. I did the exact same thing. I still do. The only way I can ever grade all of your shitty homeworks is if I’m high. And I know what it’s like when there isn’t any other option because I didn’t have any. I want to find you what you need.”

“Probably a psych evaluation.” Tommy laughs to himself. “I’m serious, Tommy.”

“Wilbur, I truly appreciate the concern. But “teacher helping me find myself” wasn’t exactly in my life plan. It’s all laid out perfectly, I just have to make it to 18.”

Wilbur stares in disbelief. “Living every day just to make it to eighteen isn’t any way to live. Barely making it through your weekdays just to party on the weekends isn’t healthy.”

“No shit sherlock.”

“I think I will get you a psych evaluation if you keep talking back”

“Alright, fine.”

[problematicfanfics]

do i post my new (old) update to the long tombur fic that i randomly found or do i write chapter 17 THEN publish 16?

[problematicfanfics]

Just wanted to say i really like your teacher/student tombur fic!!!! It's so good idec it's unfinished lol. I've been obsessed with teacher/student lately (bc I'm thirsting over my English teacher tbh) and this was such a treat!! Anyway love ur writing ❤❤❤

LMAOOO i actually started it bc i was feining for my history teacher at the time and i thought that fit wilbur amazingly. it’s also partly a love letter to the beginnings of my addictions so i think the writing is perfectly teenage. i’m so glad you enjoyed it! i really wanna finish it before kinktober ‘25 and ik ppl r gonna be like “bitch that’s in 10 months” but i legit have dropped off the face of the earth from writing so it’ll be a miracle if it ever gets done.

if i do ever finish it and you want to be reminded/you want sneak peaks just shoot me a dm! i send my wips out to people all the time lmao. i also ask my readers for ideas as im writing to help get ideas on how to flow between scenes when i hit roadblocks so, who knows, maybe u can help me create the ideal student/teacher with some ideas of your own

[problematicfanfics]

yo who’s a writer that wants to help me on this teacher x student bc my brain is so empty rn…..,,,,…

[problematicfanfics]

ooouuuhhh posted chapter 16 ugh

[problematicfanfics]

LMFAOO HELP I WAS ALSO SO DRUNK THID WAS THE FUNNIEST THING EVER

[problematicfanfics]

pls ☹️

[problematicfanfics]

One Night Stand (WIP)

TOMBUR, 18+ characters, consensual, guilt

no NSFW (yet)

lowercase intentional. ignore all errors.

* ⋆★

there was no “wilbur” without tommy, just as there was no “tommy” without wilbur.

they joined voice calls almost perfectly in sync. video ideas perpetually flowed between the two of them. every sentence between them seemed perfectly planned, comedic timing without flaw and wit beyond, without ever having actually been.

wilbur and tommy joked. It was sort of their thing. everything from family dinners, or even sunday morning church, to crude language and sex jokes.

but there seemed to be a shift in energy ever since tommy turned 18.

“Did you just say COME??” tommy screamed at wilbur through the headset.

wilbur winced at the noise despite the lack of camera. it was 2 am, and nothing with their late night talks had changed…

except for the fact that tommy was now eighteen.

wilbur pushed the thought from his head. he never bothered counting down the days until his best companion was legal. it wasn’t even a thought until now.

there were MANY different things… for example, tommy now lived with new people. and he lived in a new neighborhood. now that he thought about it, maybe it was tommy’s lack of concern for school in the morning.

the more thought that went into it the more tommy looked like an adult in wilbur’s eyes. he was an accomplished man now. he was on his own, save with the few questions he reached out to wilbur with about leaving the nest.

but he knew it wasn’t true.

sure, looking at it face value, tommy was a man. but wilbur knows him. wilbur saw him skip classes to play games with him, wilbur reported back to his mom if he was up past his bedtime, wilbur always played a sort of brotherly-role in his life. so for those walls to be broken down and now be seen as equals…

it felt foreign.

wilbur didn’t know how to act. how to not treat him like a child and instead like a man.

“really? cum??”

“i’d like to see your cum.”

wilbur held his breath. normally, he would’ve yelled at tommy, told him off for such a lewd joke at his age.

but he has every right to make that joke now.

wilbur would just have to cope.

all he could do was groan. “oh, god, tommy…” he laughed, his snicker fading in and out with tubbo’s.

“well, wasn’t expecting that…” tommy mumbled under his breath in a hurry. his tone was light, airy, almost playful.

wilbur wondered what he meant by that.

“tommy, what’re you playing?” tubbo asked.

“peep the discord, tubs.”

“you said that in the most uncool manner ever.”

“i’m just a trend setter,” tommy complimented himself, leaning back on his chair. “wouldn’t you say, wilbur?”

wilbur rolled his eyes. if he was going to treat tommy like a man, he’d get the full package. “i would disagree. you’re actually quite unfunny without me.”

“you can’t say that and mean it. i think we work quite well together, wilbur.”

“i feel like you meant for that to have some type of double meaning.” wilbur was reaching, he knew he was, but he just wanted to keep reaching. he wanted to give it meaning. a meaning for him, a little secret he never shared.

tubbo’s laughter came ringing back into wilbur’s ears. “you give him too much credit, wil. he doesn’t have the brain space for double meaning jokes, let alone gay jokes.”

tommy’s laughter filled wilbur’s headphones. in a hurry he removed them from his head, ripping the wires away from his body.

his ears were met with his own hearing damage, a low ringing he couldn’t shake through the absolute stillness of the room.

faint lighting had been his only supply of vitamin D for the last week, his eyes hurt when unfocused from his screen. he was in a particular dry spell when it came to women (and friends), so he turned to those he already had strong connections with to keep his spirits up instead of forming new relationships.

hesitantly, he placed the headphones back on his head. he wasn’t sure if he was ready to return back to the younger boy’s fast paced conversations.

immediately he was thrown on his toes by tommy.

“ey, wil! oyv, pussyfoot!”

“oyv, bruv!” wilbur yelled back at him. “have we gota problem?”

“we thought you died” the younger two laugh. tubbo speaks up. “tommy asked you a question.”

“ovy sorry mate, what’s up?”

“i was wondering if you were free to come by my house any time soon. i feel like you should really see me and my flatmates in our element. ash has been askin’ for ya.”

wilbur laughs, leaning back in his chair and pulling the mic with him. “ash speaks?”

“no, but he’s been leavingu these really cryptic messages around the house that vaguely mention you.”

“i still say ash is a witch,” tubbo starts. “he’s definitely hexing us all right now in his room.”

wilbur removes his headphones just in time, ash coming crashing into tommy’s room banging on the walls to annoy tubbo, screaming coming from both boys.

wilbur poured himself a glass of water while he waited for the calm after the storm.

he quickly slipped back into his thoughts as the screaming of tommy raised louder through his headsets.

tommy was still very much a kid. it was all in the voice, the way he presented himself. really he still acted like a child, especially around wilbur.

the little things like asking for a blanket instead of getting one himself, asking wilbur questions when he’s curious instead of just googling them, constant pestering and waltzing like he owns everything.

tommy is still a child.

but the big red 18 above his head says otherwise.

now he was overthinking it. over thinking every time he grabbed tommy too rough, the “manhandling” as tommy called it so often.

was tommy right?

would people really think he was a nonce if he was any less attractive?

definitely. and now the idea is seeping into his brain and bright red alarms are going off in his head.

he always acted rough with tommy. he always grabbed him and tossed him around. he just now realizes how light the boy is.

his brain thinks of the worst possible situations.

was he making tommy uncomfortable? did tommy ever feel scared to be around him? i mean, their physical difference is a lot. maybe it’s too much for him.

but also, at this point, tommy would’ve told him. yeah, there’s no way he would’ve let it slide this whole time.

his vision goes straight, and with a final swig of his water he puts the headphones back on.

“-but honestly, at the end of the day, i don’t think i miss it all that much.” tommy finished.

“what are you guys talkin’ about?”

“school shit,” tubbo replies, ignoring his long absence. “tommy and i were wondering if we missed it at all. i feel like content creators are just a different bread man. i don’t think i've heard one content creator say they enjoy school.”

“i mean, wouldn’t you kinda say that we make money doing everything school told us what exactly not to do?” tommy questions. wilbur can’t see him but he knows he’s not speaking into the mic. he’s probably fiddling with his jumper knowing him.

“like what?”

“sharing our information online, meeting strangers, sitting on our arses, no going outside for an hour a day, gaming, showing your face on the internet for everyone to judge, letting what are essentially strangers into our houses for the sake of content.”

“strangers is a strong word i’d say. i don’t think you're really strangers after a certain point.” wilbur comments.

the boys sit for a minute on the topic, no words exchanged. finally tommy raises his voice. “i mean i guess you’re right. by my logic tubbo is just a stranger, which sounds very wrong to say.”

“i hope we never get there,” they laugh together.

[problematicfanfics]

i love them sm they’re literally boyfriends

[problematicfanfics]

Kinktober ‘21 Oct 19. Hate Sex (WIP)

RAMSCAM, dubcon, l’manberg, dsmp au

slight NSFW (for now)

i think this’ll be my last one… idk. maybe i’ll post more. ignore all errors.

* ⋆★

Trees.

There used to be so many trees.

But with the combination of sapnap’s fires and gentrification of the land nothing was left but a small patch some ways off.

It was his sanctuary. Sometimes he’d read, drink, stargaze. But sometimes he’d do even more intimate things, like writing or singing, even art.

Today was a good day. There was no war, only collecting wood and laughing with friends. So he had decided to settle down for the night and paint a little.

Upon arriving he was very well pissed off to see a drunk man laying in the middle of his safe place. Schlatt. What a fucking disappointment.

When the man first showed his face around the server, Tommy remembers feeling so honored. Just having Schlatt around in his general area in his stupid suit and tie made him feel so cool.

But now he sees how naive and stupid he was. Maybe it was all the time Schlatt had spent away, maybe it was the rumors that shot out of people’s tongues like arrows in war, or maybe it was just seeing these rumors play out live in front of him. Whatever it was, war made him realize he can’t blindly follow someone he knows nothing about.

“Hey. Hey dickface, get out of here.” He shoved Schlatt.

“Fuck off, man. Can’t a guy sleep?”

“You have a bed. Go. This is my spot.” Tommy placed his art things on the ground, quietly to not draw attention to it. “It’s the only fucking patch of trees around and I want to relax tonight. Beat it kid.”

“A fucking drunk like you doesn’t have any right to relax. You do nothing BUT relax!” The kid threw his hands up in the air. “I have been through wars. Through death and pain. I have the right to relax. NOT you.”

Schlatt stood, moonlight highlighting just how big he was. “I don’t deserve to relax?”

“You fucking heard me.”

“Learn to keep your mouth shut, kid. You’re gonna run into trouble.” The older one turned to leave with an eye roll, muttering under his breath “I’m fucking lazy? I do shit.”

“If you do shit,” Tommy turned to face Schlatt defiantly. “Then what is it? Because I only see you get drunk.”

He stopped walking, taking only a few strides to get to where Tommy was. “I’m a fucking business man, that’s what I am. And I’m pretty damn successful. I got money, a life, and liquor. I’m fucking set. All I see you have is trauma for no reason.”

Tommy scoffed. “No reason? It was life or death!”

“It was for the independence of a stupid nation, who gives a shit. Just fucking get under their rule and take them down from there.”

“That’s the fucking stupidest plan I’ve ever heard of.”

“Ok Mister ‘“do I shoot him or aim for the sky?”,” He gets close to the boy’s face. His eyes sting from the alcohol on his breath. “Pathetic that you really think you ever meant anything to this nation.”

Tommy’s fists ball up. “I paid with my life.”

“So what? I still see you standing here. You wouldn’t even die for the thing you’re oh so passionate about. It’s sad, truly, that you think you deserve special treatment. This is public property.”

The blond points to a sigh on a tree, and Schlatt goes over to read it.

“BIG MAN TOMMY’S LAND! DON’T TOUCH >:(”

Schlatt walked back over to Tommy. “Doesn’t mean jack shit if you don’t have a building on here. So as far as I can tell,” He leans up against the beginning of the mountain behind him. “This is fair game.”

This fucking bastard! What fucking right does he think he has? Tommy’s the entitled one here? No way! No, all he wanted was to sit and paint. Just one night of relaxation. But he can’t even fucking have that.

Quickly he pulled out his sword. “Square up, bitch.”

Schlatt stood up straight. “Woah, hold up kid. I don’t have a sword. Let me make one real quick.”

Tommy threw an extra stone sword in front of him. “You and me. Let’s go. Right here right now.”

Schlatt slowly picked up the sword, getting into his fighting stance.

The two stared at each other intensely. Neither wanted to make the first move and ruin their chances.

Finally Tommy swung his sword, lodging it in a tree instead of Schlatt’s side. The older jumped out of the way before holding his head in his hands. That’s right, he’s still drunk. Tommy almost forgot.

He unlodged his sword before running towards Schlatt again. The two nicked each other a couple of times, coming dangerously close to killing the other once or twice. But something always stopped them.

Schlatt pulled out his shield, instantly knocking Tommy off his feet. The boy fell on his back with the wind knocked out of him.

He took this as an opportunity to kick the sword out of Tommy’s hand and pick the boy up by his shirt. The boy was thrown against the stone wall like a ragdoll, neck pinned by Schlatt’s forearm. It was quiet except for their breathing.

“I win.” Schlatt whispered. Tommy could’ve sworn the hairs on his back stood up. Something about the way the man said it…

“Well? What do you say?” The grip tightened.

Desperately Tommy clawed at the arm pinning him down. “Fuck you.”

“Tsk. That’s no way to speak to me.” Schlatt’s voice sounded condescending. “Cmon, baby boy. Tell me I win.”

“Baby boy? What’s this, a fucking porn?”

“It’s about to be if you don’t fucking own up to the fact I beat your ass.”

“Never.” Tommy snapped back.

“Fine. You fucking asked for it.” Schlatt reached into his back pocket. “You’re lucky I even have. I had plans to fucking jack off before you showed up, guess I can’t just do anything in peace around here.”

His grip changed from forearm to hand, pressing hard against the boy’s neck.

Finally he pulled out a small bottle of disposable lube. He grinded his hips against the boy’s front, hot breath escaping the younger. “Fuck, if we’re gonna do it let’s just do it.” Tommy rolled his eyes and pushed Schlatt’s hand away, more of a suggestion they should just mutually get this over with.

Schlatt let go and immediately Tommy pulled him in for a kiss. A mess of taking off clothes, barely taking breath in between making out, they made their way to the back of the mini forest out of everyone’s eyeline.

Tommy pushed himself up against Schlatt. He hated this man, but there was an undeniable attraction he had with him.

[problematicfanfics]

Ramscam drunk?!?! (WIP)

RAMSCAM, 18+ characters, consensual, drinking, violence

no NSFW (yet)

ignore all errors

* ⋆★

Schlatt quit drinking.

He knew the alcoholic beverage in hand begged to differ, but he really had. A terrible day drinker who overcame his habits and finally regained his healthy relationship with the substance. But three drinks in, he remembers why he quit every time.

The room was hot and stuffy. He looked around at these youtubers, streamers, content creators and just felt… out of place.

Maybe it was the “impostor syndrome” talking, maybe it was the loud music, or maybe it was the heat, but whatever it was he felt something brewing in him.

Not in the fun way. In the almost sick way. In the “I'm-ready-to-beat-up-the-first-guy-who-looks-at-me-wrong” way. Every small touch on the dance floor made him clench his jaw tightly and squeeze the hem of his shirt. He limited his time in the crowd, opting to instead sit around the less crowded bar.

A loud laugh could be heard from the middle of the crowd, a ruckus that he could not mistake. The laugh of a small British boy he hated oh-so-much. Just the thought of seeing him now sent Schlatt’s “fight-or-fight” response into a frenzy

“Schlatt!” The young boy yelled, arms out for an embrace, clutching a drink in his left. “Look at me, I’m also a lefty.” He laughed at his own stupid joke.

The older looked him up and down, his arm left resting on the bar. “Not now,” He said through gritted teeth.

“Big man, big man! Big man,” Tommy sat next to him. “What’s the prob?”

“If you don’t get out of my face there’s going to be issues, Tommy.” He spat. He really didn’t mean to sound so hostile, he just didn’t want to hurt the younger. Violent tendencies are easier to avoid if you just avoid people altogether. Schlatt got up from the bar, taking his drink with him, and headed up the steps. No one is allowed, save for him and Mizkif, upstairs. The perfect sanctuary of solitude while his roommate dealt with the hosting.

Light footsteps trailed behind him, and he knew who the hell it was. He reached the top step before whipping around and grabbing the stair railing. “What did I say?” His tone dripped with poison, a venomous snake ready to attack under the smallest sign of a threat.

Tommy stepped down one, grabbing the railing so he didn’t drunkenly topple down the steps. “Schlatt, c’mon! We’re friends. Let’s go sit in your room!!” He almost whines. Schlatt’s face flushes a ferocious red as he grabbed the boy and brought him to the top step. “If you fucking crack your head open on these stairs it’ll be the end of you.”

“I mean, yeah, cracking my head open doesn’t sound like fun.”

“No, I’m saying… Forget it. Get the hell out of here. I just need to sit alone.”

“But I don’t want to go back down there. I want you.” He clung to the man’s arms.

Schlatt tried to shake the boy off. “What?” He stumbled out, a genuine question to ease his perplexed thoughts. Did he hear him right? Was this just him being a drunk? He really needed to quit.

“You heard me,” Tommy moved his body closer to him. “Please.” he whispered softly into his ear.

“Tommy, if you don’t fucking get off me, we’re going to have issues.” Schlatt tried his best to keep his composure, but he was getting hot and stuffy again, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep himself under wraps. The boy didn’t seem to understand this and instead grabbed the man’s shirt. “C’mon. Look at me.” His hands started to roam the other’s upper arm, tracing the outline of his light muscles.

Schlatt’s breathing started to speed up. Mistaken for a positive reaction, Tommy began to move up to the other’s shoulders. He sensually played with the fabric touching the other’s skin. The man’s vision started to pinhole. A flurry of thoughts were running through his mind, a frantic and desperate attempt to gain some sort of control of the situation.

He felt his final deep breath as he grabbed Tommy off of him and shoved him against a wall, a deep and demanding “Shut up!” finally rumbling from his chest. The boy took their close positioning as an opportunity, grabbing Schlatt’s grown out hair with one hand to interlock lips with him. Schlatt grabbed the boy’s hips tighter and pulled his head back. He could still feel the boy’s hand in his hair. “You’re playing a really fucking close game right now. I might just beat your skull in.”

“Like you did to those women back in ‘99?” Tommy smiles, but the lust in his eyes never left.

“Exactly.”

“I won’t complain.” He practically moaned out. “Just take me.”

“I don’t think now is the time.”

“If not now, when?”

He grabbed the back of Tommy’s head and hit him against the wall. “You’re so fucking annoying, you need to learn to shut those pretty little lips of yours sometimes.” He stayed silent. “Good girl.”

Schlatt slowly starts to feel up the boy, his pretty little waist and slutty hips and fuck, it’s enough to make a grown man lose himself. His rib cage was so light he could probably crack him in one swift hit. He grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into the closest room he could find, a rather spacious utility closet full of junk and items only used once in a blue moon. It was supposed to be a small kids room but, alas, he and Mizkif don’t have any children. Tommy’s back is to the door and his hands find their way to the lock. Schlatt is too busy grabbing every inch of the kid, his drunken stupor and almost violent desires screaming for more of Tommy. His lips flirted with the boy’s neck while hands quickly worked their way underneath his shirt. The soft untouched skin begged for more, for something harsher.

Schlatt curled his fingers into the boy’s torso, eliciting a moan from the younger. His mind fuzzed with lustful desires. He leaned his lips down to Tommy’s ears and asked, “Do you want this?”

Tommy violently nodded yes. “yes, please, yes. I need you.” Schlatt slowly removed the boy’s shirt. “How bad?”

“So bad, s’bad, please.”

“What do you want?” He was just teasing him at this point. He wanted a reaction, something besides willful obedience.

“You! For fucks sake, YOU Schlatt! Stop making me wait! Fuck me! god.” He

[problematicfanfics]

i’ve been dead! junior year sucked ass

working on the next chapter that no one cares about 👍

tap below for link to the ao3

[problematicfanfics]

Hey, I'm just wondering are you planning on doing the other wips in the poll?

once my teacher x student is done, i probably will redo the poll and post some other wips i have to add to the poll! most wips i have left over are pretty short atp but i think y’all will enjoy the concepts/what i got :D

[problematicfanfics]

Kinktober ‘21 Oct 1. knifeplay (WIP)

TOMBUR, consensual, knifeplay, blood

slight NSFW (for now)

2021?!?! ignore all errors

* ⋆★

It was an idle Tuesday, Tommy sat in his bed with headphones in. He had a week off from school for some holiday or another. Though he wasn’t complaining, he did wish his friend would hurry up. The day prior had been quite the bore before he was told their plans for the following day. After that he was a buzzing mess.

“Wilbahh,” The child whined. “I’m bored.”

Shuffling around could be heard on Wilbur’s end. “Well shut up. I’m almost there anyways.”

“You’re too slow.”

“Then I’ll just not come.” The brunet said it like he was indifferent either way, not caring as to whether he even got to see the boy.

“No! Wait, I’m sorry!” Wilbur laughed. “I’m coming, I’m coming. But only for the dog.”

“You and the damn dog,” Tommy rolled his eyes and laid down on his bed. “My parents are out by the way. You know that right?” Wilbur hummed a yes before honking at a driver.“Good. Just wanted you to know.” There was a honk on the other end. “Listen, I’ll call you back. Some jerk just cut me off.”

Tommy nodded and hung up, dropping his phone on the bed. There wasn’t much else to do before Wilbur arrived. Eventually he stood and put away the remaining freshly folded laundry.

After ten minutes he heard a car door slam. Living in a relatively quiet neighborhood, he just knew it was Wilbur, rushing down the stairs before stopping at the door.

It opened with a big swing and was completed with Tommy grinning. “Big man! Hey!” Wilbur smiled and waved before looking behind the boy. Tommy turned around to see what he was looking at, greeted by the bull terrier sprinting his way.

Quickly he dodged it. Watching the two reunite made the blond roll his eyes. “WALTER! Good boy! Aw, hey baby. How are you doing?”

“I’m here too, you know.”

“You’re merely the human who talks for my best friend Walter. You mean nothing to me. C'mon baby! Let’s go inside!” Walter jumped up and down at the tone of Wilbur’s voice, sprinting back inside the house like a bullet. Wilbur high fived Tommy as he walked in.

The older man sat in front of the doorway as he took off his shoes. “I’m hungry,” He said as he stood. “What can we make?”

Tommy just rolled his eyes before locking the door and walking into the kitchen. “Make? You’re insane. We can’t cook.” Wilbur huffed and opened up the fridge. “Well, yes we can. There’s chicken in the fridge. As long as your mom isn’t saving this for something we should be able to make it.”

He set the chicken in the sink, heating up the water to dethaw it faster. Wilbur turned around and pulled his sleeves back down. “Should we go up to your room?” Tommy shook his head yes and they headed up.

The pair made their way upstairs, Tommy’s room immediately at the top. Wilbur entered and walked around, admiring the things he had out.

“I didn’t know you were into knives, Tommy,” Wilbur said as he inspected the lighters and switchblades on the dresser. “Oh, yeah. I like lighters a lot, but switchblades are fun too. My friends get them for me.”

The older of the two picked one up, inspecting it and opening it before placing it back down. “I see. I’ll keep that in mind. I used to collect some, too. When I would travel. But bringing them back through airport security was too much of a hassle, so I stopped.”

Tommy’s face lit up with an idea. He picked the one Wilbur was just holding back up and handed it to him. “Take one! That way we can have a cool mutual collection! That is if you want to start one.” With a big smile he took it from the boy’s hand. “Thanks! I’ll keep it safe.” It rested in his pocket and he patted it just to make sure it was neatly tucked away.

After twenty minutes of talk about streaming, the pair headed back down to check on the chicken. Wilbur turned off the water.

Feeling the packaging he shot a smile at Tommy. “It’s ready to prep! Can you help me get stuff out?”

Tommy stood, helping grab out spices Wilbur needed and tools. Though he was sure Wilbur was making it up as he was going along he still followed along with small mental notes.

The workstation was all ready, and Wilbur cut the packaging and put the chicken on the cutting board. He grabbed the knife, starting to cut off the ugly excess bits.

All Tommy could do was admire how skilled the older one was with a knife. His hands seemed so pretty as he gripped it, perfectly defined. The knife cut clean into the meat. No hassle as Wilbur cut through tougher bits. It was a sharp knife; Tommy sharpened it after every thirty uses since he thought it was fun. He never thought of knives in terms of being a turn on for him, but with the way this man knew exactly what he was doing Tommy could confidently say it was hot as fuck.

Cutting was over, so he threw everything into a bowl. He broke four eggs in one bowl, poured flour and seasoning into another, and finally filled the last one with bread crumbs.

“I’m assuming chicken tenders is fine with you?”

“Hm?” Tommy said, coming back from his little fantasy.

“Chicken tenders sounds alright?” Tommy nodded yes and he continued.

Flour egg crumb, flour egg crumb, it just repeated and repeated. Boiling oil popped in the pot, hitting Tommy’s exposed arm. “Shit! That hurts!”

Wilbur laughed and warned him about oil bubbles and splashes as he dropped each chicken tender in. It would bubble, boiling sounds filling the house. Everything smelled great already. Both parties took their eyes off the chicken to let it cook. “Got any plans for the day?”

“Hang out with you is all.” Wilbur said. Right, stupid question. “Wanna watch the game?”

“There’s a game on right now?”

“I don’t know, but you can never go wrong with saying “wanna watch the game.” It’s safe.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows in an impressed manner. “Smart thinking. Let’s watch the game.”

After about nine minutes of looking for some game, any game, they realized the chicken was ready.

The powerful aroma of spices and almost burned oil made Tommy’s head hurt. He usually wasn’t in the kitchen when his mom was cooking. Burned oil wasn’t particularly his favorite smell (and his mother isn’t particularly known for being a good chef) so he’d rather stay in his room thank you very much. They took their food to the dining room table, condiments and utensils in hand.

“What piece do you want?” Wilbur asked as he took one for himself.

“One that isn’t burned. Preferably.” His smirk to Wilbur made him roll his eyes before putting an unburnt piece on the plate.

Tommy watched as Wilbur’s hands grabbed a knife and began to cut. These damn knives…

“You good there Tommy?” The brunet raised an eyebrow at the boy, who stuttered his way out of his head. “I- uh- yeah. Just zoned out.”

“Looking at me? I know, I’m quite good looking.”

“Oh shut up.”

“You’re usually my hype man. What happened, I hit too close to home?”

“Stop stroking your ego.” Tommy shoved another piece of chicken in his mouth. “You ain’t that pretty.”

Wilbur cut more of his chicken. “Don’t talk with a full mouth. But if I didn’t know any better I’d say something’s up with you.” Tommy stopped chewing and stared into the nothing space between him and Wilbur. Shit.

“Yeah, you know. Like you have a crush or something. Your mind somewhere else?” That smug bastard. Still cutting his chicken, eating it like he didn’t just short circuit the boy’s head.

“Listen, Tommy, I was kidding. What the hell’s up with you?”

Finally Tommy found his words. “Just thinking about… knives. Aren’t they cool?”

“Yeah. They are.”

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve used a knife for?” What kind of stupid question was tha-

“Definitely when some girl I took home asked me to cut her thighs. That was an experience.”

“WILBUR! I MEANT LIKE, SCREW A SCREW OR SOMETHING. GEEZ.” Tommy threw his fork down, losing the ability to function completely. “I’m putting my fucking plate in the sink. God, man!”

He took the dirty plates and utensils and put them in the sink. “Sheesh. Seriously? Wilbur.”

“Sorry, a bit far. But you did ask.”

“No!”

“What, jealous?”

“Wil- I! No!” The blond scrubbed the dishes angrily. Quietly the brunet crept his way into the kitchen. “I dunno. Your reaction seems quite out of pocket.”

Tommy turned off the water and dried his hands. “Yeah, MY reaction was out of pocket? Your response was waayy out of pocket, big man.”

Wilbur got really close to the boy, trapping him in between the counter and himself while reaching into his pocket. “So you wouldn’t care if I did this?” The knife was opened against the inside of Tommy’s thigh, the man’s hand holding it perfectly. Tommy’s breath wavered. “Knife thing, much? Was it subconscious this whole time, or did collecting them lead you to this?”

Tommy’s mouth dried up as he swallowed air. His eyes met brown eyes. They asked if he could continue. What was he supposed to do?

“Can I keep going? Take this upstairs?”

The boy’s head nodded viciously. It was cut off by Wilbur pulling him in a deep kiss, guiding him to the room.

Tommy laid on the bed as Wilbur stripped him. The knife was on the bedside table, waiting to be used. Quickly Wilbur grabbed it and pressed it to Tommy’s side. The cold metal made Tommy gasp, throwing his hips up against the man on top of him. “Nasty whore. Barely even touched you with it.” He pushed a little harder. Blood was yet to be drawn but skin stung. Tommy gripped the bedsheets with everything he had. “Wilbur, kiss me.”

Wilbur lifted the knife to the younger’s face while he kissed him. Lightly it trailed his jawline.

They pulled away and finished getting undressed. Wilbur put the tip of the blade to Tommy’s thigh. “Do you have lube?”

Tommy nodded quickly “Behind the bed frame.” His hand made its way behind, grabbing a small bottle of something before pulling it out.

“Oh, that’s not lube.”

Wilbur laughed. “Tommy, why do you have a fireball back here? Weren’t these taken off the shelves?”

“Yeah, back in 2014. But my friend’s older brother had some and wanted to get rid of them. Took ‘em home.” Wilbur dropped the bottle on the floor before grabbing the proper bottle. He popped the cap and poured some on his fingers. Carefully he placed the tip of his finger at Tommy’s entrance, “Ready?” All Tommy did was nod, that was enough for Wilbur.

Wilbur sped through the prep. He knew the consequences for the younger, but neither of them wanted to be bothered with all that unnecessary crap.

He spread some lube on his dick before lining up with Tommy. The knife rested on the teen’s chest. “Ready?”

“Y- yeah. I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be,” Wilbur smiled. “You’re safe. Well, as safe as you can be being fucked with a knife to your chest.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Can we take anything seriously for three seconds?”

“If we took something seriously we might combust, Tommy. Alright just relax now,”

[problematicfanfics]

i have a priest!wilbur and soldier!tommy fic written out but yk me and how i like to make everything impossibly long with multiple chapters, so i’m debating even posting it bc if i were to make it i would wanna do it right. i wrote the beginning and the ending and posting the ending with it seems wrong but i haven’t written enough to post methinks.

idk if u want it dm me ig