yeah alright this is just me whining about how i got a detention

smallandsundry  asked:

trimberly harry potter au, kim takes trini home for spring break and tells her parents they're dating. this is news to trini.

“I might as well have placed a full body-bind you.”

Trini jerks out of thought, rubbing her hands on her slacks and looking up at Kim, who’s wearing a look that might be called ‘concerned’ if not for the slight quirk of the right corner of her lips.

“What?”

“You don’t need to be nervous. My parents are pricks, but they’re not going to say anything uncivilized. To your face,” she adds after a moment’s pause. 

Keep reading

twangcat  asked:

Imagine Phil and Clint crushing on each other in high school and selling flowers for valentines day together

A/N: First post for ImagineClintCoulson! I hope all of y’all and enjoy. I know I am looking forward to filling all these amazing prompts. 


Phil had just pulled out the cash box for the sale when he caught sight of Principal Fury stalking toward the table, dragging Clint Barton with him. Barton was arguing with Fury as they walked and it was only when they were a few feet away that Phil was able to hear what Barton was whining about.

“Come on, Fury. He totally deserved it.”

Fury grimaced and from where Phil was sitting he could tell, this was not the first time he’d heard this from Barton. “It doesn’t matter how much he deserved it. Rules are rules and punching someone is automatic detention. Now you can sit here and sell carnations with Coulson or you can miss practice this afternoon and sit with Ms. Hill instead.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll sell the flowers.” Clint shrugged Fury off and followed him sullenly.

They’d reached the table and Fury pointed at the chair next to Phil. “Good choice. Now sit.”

Clint took a seat and crossed his arms over his chest. Phil looked up at Fury. “Sir? What’s going on?”

“Mr. Barton thought it was a good idea to punch Grant Ward after class. So now he is going to sit here and help you sell carnations and we’re going to consider this whole mess dealt with.”

Once he was sure nothing else was going to happen, Fury left muttering something about idiot teenagers. Phil bristled and busied himself getting all the delivery slips and pens ready. He would have preferred selling the carnations by himself rather than with someone who didn’t want to be there.

They still had a few minutes before the bell was going to ring and as Phil finished seting up their supplies, Clint asked. “So what are we doing here?”

“It’s the annual carnation sale for Valentine’s Day. All the money goes to the student council and we use it to pay for events like prom.”

Clint scooched his chair closer to Phil’s and leaned into Phil’s space. “Cool. So what do you need me to do?”

Phil lost all ability to think with Clint so close. He’d been harboring a small crush on him since they’d been partnered for a project during Trigonometry last year. Clint had proven to be much smarter than he let on and he and Phil had worked well together and when the project had finished, Phil had found himself wanting to know more about the other boy.

Clint had revived the school’s archery team and with his skill and that of Kate Bishop, they’d quickly made it a champion team. Phil had seen Clint practicing one afternoon after a student council meeting and the sight of toned, muscular arms pulling back the string and the way that Clint’s hair had turned more golden in the sun had left Phil speechless. Clint had waved, and Phil had felt himself turn bright red before waving shyly back and hurrying to his car.

“Coulson? You still with me?” Clint waved a hand in front of Phil’s face before sing-songing. “Hello?”

“Sorry. What was the question again?”

“What do you need me to do?” Clint nudged Phil with his elbow. “Everything alright, Phil? You seem a little out of it.”

“I’m fine. If you could handle the delivery sheets that would be great. People will give me the money and then pick which color carnation they want to send and fill out the sheet. They can leave their names off them if they want, but we do need the name of who they want it delivered to.”

“What are the colors for?”

“White for friendship, pink for a crush, and red for love.”

“Cool. I think I got it.”

Clint moved his chair back from Phil and started spreading the pens out in front of him. Phil felt the loss of the other boy keenly. He’d liked having Clint so close.

He was in the midst of checking the change in the cashbox when Clint asked. “How much do these things cost?”

“Three dollars.”

The bell rang and Clint held up a hand for a high five. Once Phil gave him the high five, Clint beamed and winked. “I got this, Phil. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t, Clint.” Before he could say more, students started approaching the table and buying carnations.

Business was a little slow since it was just the first day, so Phil when there was a lull, he asked, “why’d you punch Ward?”

Clint smirked. “He wouldn’t leave that new girl alone. You know her, right? I saw you showing her around.”

Phil did know her. Daisy had just moved to town and while she was a bit of a loner, she’d been friendly and nice enough. “Yeah, I know her.”

“We have a couple classes together and she’s like me, a foster kid, so we stick together. We were talking after class and that jerk, Ward would not go away. I asked Daisy and she said he’d been like that for a few days now and when he came back, she said go away and he wouldn’t, so I punched him. Unfortunately, Fury saw and you know the rest.”

“He definitely had it coming.”

“Thanks, Phil.”

Since the bell was about to ring, Phil made a note of how much they’d made and was about to start packing up himself when Clint handed him three singles.

“Clint?”

“I wanna buy one, but you can’t look. Okay?”

“Sure.” Phil took the money and looked away while Clint filled out his slip and shuffled it in amongst the others.

When the bell rang, they parted to go to their separate classes and Phil continued to feel warm all day after his conversation with Clint.

***A Week Later: Valentine’s Day***

Phil was sitting in his U.S. History class trying to pay attention and not think about the fact that it was Valentine’s day when Stark passed him a note.

When do the carnations get delivered?

Phil took a peek up at Mr. Sitwell who was still lecturing and wrote back.

This period like 20 min

Tony nodded and started watching the clock. Phil went back to trying to pay attention while checking the clock every so often.

When 20 minutes had finally gone by, both Tony and Phil looked up when there was a knock at the door. Natasha, one of Phil’s fellow council member had a handful of carnations and came to pass them out. Natasha took her time and left Tony and Phil until last.

“Two red carnations for Stark.” She leaned in and whispered. “Steve was very pleased with his. He was sketching it when I left”

Tony blushed and whispered, “thank you.”

Natasha came to Phil and held out a pink carnation. “Looks like someone’s got a crush, Coulson.”

Phil took the carnation and read the note. He recognized Clint’s spiky handwriting and felt his heart start to race.

Phil I really liked working with you and would like to take you on a date. I’ll be at the range after these are delivered.

–Clint

Phil looked up at Natasha, who nodded and Phil grabbed his books and dashed out of class. He ran all the way to the range and when he got there, he found Clint standing there one red rose in his hand and a nervous smile on his face. He looked good too. Dark skinny jeans and tight purple t-shirt and Phil had to force himself to remember to breathe as he stared.

“Clint?”

“Hey, Phil. Got my carnation, I see.”

Phil looked at the flower in his hand and nodded. “Is that rose for me as well?”

“It is, but to get it, there’s a catch.”

Phil took a few steps closer to Clint. “And what’s that?”

“You gotta go on a date with me. Tonight.”

“Is that all?”

Clint’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Phil shrugged. “It’s not much of a catch. I’ve wanted to go out with you for a while now.”

“Wha-really?”

Phil got even closer, so he and Clint were only a few inches away. “Really.”

Clint smiled again and there was a spark of mischief in his eye. “So if I added a kiss to my demands, how would that go?”

Phil closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Clint’s. “Very well.”

Clint kissed Phil this time and hummed into the contact. “I like kissing you.”

“I like it too. We can do more tonight, if you want? Pick me up at 7?”

“Deal.”

High School Band AU: Ch. 4

I’ll be back later with a cute fic for Baehee. Meanwhile, have fun with chapter 4!


“Come out, MC! Let us see how you look!”

Ugh… you feel so pathetic, you don’t even know what’s worst, the ruffles in the dress or the cat ears Saeyoung insisted you should try. This dress is too short, you’ll have to wear a bloomer… oh my God! Is there something lamer than a freaking bloomer?

So let’s see, are you uncomfortable because of the clothes or because you’re changing in Yoosung’s bathroom? Both? Yes, Yoosung’s bathroom is pretty clean and all, but ugh… it’s still a young boy’s bathroom… and your father always teased your uncle about what kinds of thing he used to do alone in the bathroom when he was a teenage… no, you don’t want to think like this, especially not about Yoosung, who’s so sweet.

“Please, MC. I told Jumin we would have a costume ready for you until tomorrow.” Jaehee pleads. Oh yeah… she’s the reason you agreed on coming to Yoosung’s house after class. If it were only you, Yoosung and Saeyoung, you wouldn’t probably want to go. You’re glad there’s another girl here, even though she sounds as uncomfortable as you.

“Okay… here it goes…” you open the bathroom door and walk in to Yoosung’s bedroom, only to find three pairs of eyes analyzing you.

“MC, you look… kinda adorable…” Jaehee says, without blinking.

“Kinda? She looks perfect! I knew the cat ears would be a nice touch to the piggytails, which was genius of you, MC. I knew piggytails were your brand as soon as I saw that video with Zen.”

Yoosung is just blushing and staring. Is he alright?

“So… what do you think, MC?” Jaehee asks.

“I…” you sigh “I look like I’m the star of a Card Captor Sakura porn parody, which would be disturbing in so many levels…” Saeyoung doesn’t even change his expression, which concerns you. “I’m sorry, I know you put a lot of effort in this, Saeyoung, it’s very cute, it’s just… not for me?”

“But you’re very cute…” he pouts and whines, and it’s so annoying you don’t even care he’s complimenting you.

“I… it’s just too short, it’s shorter than my shorts from that night with Zen and…” ugh, don’t even think about that night again, just to think of how many trouble that brought…

“You… l-look… really g-go-good, MC. I like it… a lot.” Yoosung finally speaks, his face is as red as Saeyoung’s hair.

“Thank you…” now you’re blushing, because he’s being too cute, you smile at him and he tries to smile back, but he’s so flustered it’s almost scary.

“Whoa! You look like the star of a Card Captor Sakura porn parody, which would be disgusting!” Saeran almost shouts as he walks in Yoosung’s bedroom. Ugh… did you two really think about the same thing?

“See, even this asshole agrees with me, Saeyoung! Just imagine what Jumin will say…”

“And ever since when do you care about what Jumin thinks?” Saeran asks.

“I don’t know, Saeran, ever since he jumped at Zen’s throat?”

“Ah, yes, that… Don’t mind their bickering too much, stupid.” He shrugs, you roll your eyes.

“He’s right, MC. Don’t worry about them, they’ve been like this since first year.” Jaehee says as she’s talking to a kid. “Besides, Jumin already apologized to you, didn’t he?”

Did he? Time for a quick flashback.

After lunch break yesterday, you were in your locker looking for the biology book, when Jumin showed up, just like he did early in the morning. Oh no… is he going to yell at you? Actually, you would prefer if he yelled at you, maybe it would be less scary than what you saw in that old room.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Sure… go ahead.”

“I… was talking to Jaehee and she booked a gig for us, we’ll play at some seniors’ party in two weeks. Rehearsals will start tomorrow at Yoosung’s garage, okay?”

“Okay… thanks for the heads up.” You keep flipping through your books, his furious eyes looking at Zen still giving you the creeps. And the fact that he keeps standing next to you with his hands in his pockets without saying anything  isn’t helping at all. “Anything else?”

“Yes, I… I… just wanted to say that we’re even.”

“Even?”

“I’ll forgive you for the way you talked to me in the audition if you forget what you saw this morning.” Oh… so he feels bad too.

“May I ask what that was about, by the way?”

“Don’t worry, it was just Zen being dramatic, and I… got a little carried away with all his drama as well. Just… forget what you saw, and… please know I don’t think you’re vulgar, I just expressed myself in a wrong way…”

“Will you apologize to Zen too?”

“Don’t worry about Zen, MC. He doesn’t deserve your concerns.”

“Well, consider yourself lucky, this is the closest I’ve ever heard about Jumin Han apologizing.” Saeyoung says.

“Yeah, and I kinda agree with Jumin, MC. You shouldn’t worry about Zen that much…” Yoosung speaks a he’s afraid of your reaction.

“Why not? He was the victim and… that fight started because of me, after all…”

“MC… don’t say that. Why would you even think like this?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Jaehee? She’s catching the feels for Zen! Ugh… you’re so predictable…” Saeran narrows his eyes at you, you do the same.

“I’m… I’m not! I’m just worried!”

“Ohhh, I saw how worried you were walking him to the nurse when he clearly was fine.”

“So what? I was worried and I helped him because he was really nice to me before!”

“MC? Did something happen between you two in the nursery?” Jaehee asks in a concerning tone.

Did it? Time for another flashback!

“Ugh, I should have broken that jerk’s face!” Zen mutters.

“Then we would be going to detention instead of nursery…”

“Detention isn’t that bad, trust me. And what’s with the ‘we’? You would go to detention with me?”

“I would, since I started the fight…”

“What? No, you didn’t! I mean… that jerk was being a jerk to you, but I started, MC. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t put you in trouble.”

“Funny you say that after giving me a fake ID and taking me to a nightclub… You’re lucky that I had fun, otherwise I would have to report you!” you two chuckle “Oh, remind me of bringing your jacket tomorrow, I need to give you back.”

“Keep it if you want. It looked better on you, anyway.” No, not really… “Plus, use it when you’re in a place with a lot of guys, they’ll think you have a boyfriend and leave you alone. Men just respect girls if they know she already belongs to another man.”

“Yeah, because a ‘no’ from the girl isn’t enough, she needs to walk with a NO sign that smells like testosterone from another guy to be respected.”

“I… guess… Please keep the jacket, okay? It’s an apologizing gift for everything I did…”

“It’s fine, Zen. You can apologize to me singing good duets like that ‘Kiss’ one. You killed it, sir!” he blushes again and chuckles, looking down.

“It’s easy to kill when you sing from your heart…” what… what does he mean? “Thank you for giving me your… extra time, MC.” Shit! Just imagine if he says he wants a kiss, like in that Prince’s song… no, look at him! Look at you! He doesn’t really… why is he coming so close?

“I… gotta go, I’m late for math class. Boy, do I like math? So uhm… text me if the nurse says you’re not ok… so, uhm… thanks for the jacket. Bye…” you almost ran out of there, swearing you saw  a little smirk in those perfect lips…

“Nah, nothing happened. Saeran is just being a prick, but what else is new?”

“Okay… tell me if something happens, okay? Zen has this little tendency of flirting with…”

“Everything that breathes.” Saeyoung interrupts her.

“And… this could be trouble for the band, so tell me if he’s making you uncomfortable, okay?” you weren’t really uncomfortable, were you? It was more like… surprised?

“Sure, I will. Don’t worry…” you don’t want to cause any trouble for Zen… again.

“Okay, Jumin will probably like the costume, but since you didn’t, MC… I’ll keep looking, how do you feel about red latex?” you and Jaehee look at Saeyoung with widen eyes. “Just kidding… or am I?”

“Very funny. Come on, guys, let’s help Yoosung opening the garage. Jumin and Zen are probably on their way.” Jaehee says, grabbing Saeyoung’s arm to force him out of Yoosung’s bed.

“I’ll just change into normal clothes and meet you.” You say, heading to the bathroom. Ugh… this zipper… is stuck! Maybe Jaehee is still here to help you?

“Hey, Jae…” you yelp as you see Saeran still there. “Why aren’t you helping Yoosung in the garage?”

“Don’t tell me what to do, especially when you look so pathetic!”

“Ugh… whatever, dude. Just shut up and help me with this zipper.” You walk to him.

“W-what?”

“The zipper in the back is stuck, help me! Or you’ll have to keep looking at this pathetic figure during rehearsal.”

“I’ll… I’ll call Jaehee…”

“Dude, you’re here doing nothing and she’s busy! It’s just a zipper!” you don’t even like each other, why would this be a problem for him or for you? It’s not like you’re asking Zen or… no, forget that “Or are you that useless that you can’t help me with this single fly?”

“I’ll show you useless!”  he grabs your shoulders and makes you turn your back on him. “So, uhm… we told you before, but since you’re so stupid, I’ll say it again. Don’t mind about Jumin and Zen too much, you’re not their problem at all. Just focus on singing.”

“Why should I listen to you?”

“Because I’m the only one who will always be honest with you, since I don’t really care about how you feel. So… just know this thing between them didn’t start with you, it comes from when Rika was still in the band.” You feel the zipper going down. “So, don’t think you’re so special, okay?” he grins at you.

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, I can probably see one if you don’t put a bloomer or whatever…”

“GET OUT!!!” what a gross stupid jerk! He walks away laughing as you slam the bedroom’s door.

You walk into the garage and meet everybody, including Zen and Jumin.It’s the first time you see them together after that weird scene from Monday, the first time you see Jumin after his attempt of an apology and the first time you see Zen after… whatever happened in the nursery…

Ugh… what is this feeling in your stomach? You just wanted to sing, you didn’t sign up for all this drama, and definitely not for these feelings…


Chapter Three | Chapter Five 


First Comes Love Pt. 2 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Hi! As you can tell, this is a sequel to First Comes Love. I felt that this was kind of bad due to writer’s block and such, but I’ve been sitting on this for months so I felt it was about time it goes up. Thank you @agentkenziecaptainamerica​ for wanting a sequel to begin with, and for waiting this long. I hope that despite my negative view on it, that you still like it. Anywho, enjoy, Munchkins!


“Peter. Peter! Earth to Peteerrrrr!” You sang, hoping to get the brunette’s attention off of his geometry homework.

With an annoyed grunt, Peter dropped his pencil onto the paper and finally looked up. Even despite the annoyance hidden in his furrowed eyebrows, the hint of amusement sparkling in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“What, (Y/N)? I need to finish this homework by next period or I’ll end up in detention,” he groaned.

You looked at the sheet, scoffing.

“You only have six more problems to do with just under 20 minutes of lunch left in the easiest class ever. You’ll be fine, P.”

Peter only glared, waving a hand to indicate that you were clear to continue.

“Anyway! I need your help with an audition for theater. You know that musical, Hamilton? Well! Our school is the first one with a theater department that was given rights to perform it!” You squealed, practically jumping in your seat. “Of course, it won’t be the full production. It’ll be a quicker version. Kinda like a crash course, but musical. It’ll have mashups and gags from the show, but at a faster pace! I need someone to run lines with, and that’s where you come in–”

“No,” Peter interjected.

“Here me out!” You whined.

Peter continued to shake his head. “No way!”

“Pete, please; I really want to be casted!”

“Ask one of your theater friends! I can’t act, love; you know that!”

The nickname sent tingles down your spine, but you quickly ignored them, focusing back on your proposition.

“They’re all busy! I can’t just ask them to drop everything for me!”

Peter raised an eyebrow, irony floating in his voice as he want back to scanning the math problem.

“Really, because that’s what you’re trying to get me to do.”

“Oh hardy har!” You quipped, sarcasm clear in your tone. “Seriously, P, I need your help! Just this once! I promise!”

“You said that last time. If I remember correctly, actually, you say that every time you need something,” Peter teased, crumbling up the scratch paper he had been using with a groan. “How do they expect anyone to be able to do these problems?!”

You snickered, your gaze landing on his worksheet. It looked oddly familiar, so you leaned forward to get a better view. Finally processing the page, an idea struck you.

“If you help me with the audition, I’ll let you copy off of my geometry homework,” you cooed, pulling a duplicate sheet out of your binder, the only difference being yours was completely filled out and a bright pink 105% taunting him from the top of the paper.

Peter’s eyes went wide. “You had the homework this whole time! You–wha–how did you get a 105?!”

You giggled, jerking the sheet backwards when he reached for it. “Corrected a mistake in one of the problems. No big deal. Now, do you want it or not?”

“Yes!” Peter practically whined, leaning forward to grab the paper.

You leaned further back.

“Nah uh uh! First you have to promise you’ll help me after school!” You glanced at the clock and smirked as you read the time. “And I’d make a decision quickly. You only have 15 minutes to get it all copied.”

Immediately, Peter was nodding ferociously, eyes only on the paper you were wiggling in between your fingers.

“Yeah, okay! I’ll help you after school! Uh, meet me by the ticket booth after 8th period, and we can walk to my place. Now, please! Just give me your paper!”

Laughing heartily, you hand him the sheet, giggling as he scrambled to take the paper gratefully; in a matter of seconds, his pencil was flying across the page, eyes only leaving his copy to absorb the information on yours.

Watching fondly, you couldn’t help the slow flutter of your heart at the thought of tonight. You hadn’t been to his apartment in over two months since the English project. It’s not like you hadn’t tried to go back, but your parents had been even more protective since then. Not to mention the recent fights between Spiderman and the odd villain that felt like they could take him–of course, it always resulted in an arrested villain and your paranoid parents becoming even more paranoid. Tonight, though, you were definitely going over, no matter what you had to do to get there.

~×~

Apparently, what you had to do was practically slap Peter’s arm raw and put your acting skills to the test. Simultaneously.

You had just found your way a few blocks from the school with Peter by your side, both of you distracted by a joke he had just made, when your phone started ringing almost aggressively.

Daddy

Your eyes widened nervously before you began flailing your free arm, hand slamming onto Peter’s arm repeatedly.

“Ow! What the heck, (Y/N)–”

“Shhh!” You hissed, pointing to your phone.

Peter raised an eyebrow in question as he watched you bring the device to your ear.

“Daddy! Hi! I was just about to call you!”

“(Y/N)? Darling, where are you?” Your father questioned, worry clear in his tone. “Sanders said you didn’t come to get driven home. Is everything alright?”

You rolled your eyes at the idea of Sanders, the driver your father had recently hired to make sure you got from place to place, telling on you for not showing up.

“Yes, Daddy; I’m perfectly fine. I’m just going to Pet…er, Patricia’s house to work on running lines and some other projects. We have a lot of them,” you lied.

Peter, hearing the lies flowing from your lips, began to cackle. Immediately, you smacked his arm in response only for Peter to squeal in pain, his voice coming out high pitched when he spoke.

“Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! Stop, you could hurt your hand!” Peter screeched, exaggerating the pitch as he smirked at your wide-eyed look.

“Hurt your hand? What are you doing that you could hurt your hand?! Darling, where are you? I’ll send Sanders right away!” You father panicked.

You groaned into the phone, hitting Peter again while sending him a harsh glare.

“No, Daddy! I’m fine. Patricia was just messing around. Anyway, um, we have a lot of p–projects that need to get done by Monday,” you said into the phone, swatting at Pete as he continued to speak in a girly voice. “So, can I spend the weekend over at Patricia’s?”

Peter choked, stopping abruptly and causing you to run into his chest. Looking up with amusement, your eyes locked on his red cheeks and large eyes. Chuckling, you turned your attention back to your father.

“Spend the–Absolutely not! You know better! It’s too dangerous!  There are bad people out that might try to hurt you. Like, muggers or those villains or Spiderman–”

“Spiderman is the good guy, Daddy,” you interject, lurching to the side as Peter pulled you out of the way of a skateboarder.

“Yes, well, that doesn’t mean he couldn’t hurt you! He’s dangerous–”

“But we aren’t talking about Spiderman, Daddy; we’re talking about Patricia. You like her. She’s muscly and protective. Nice, too. Nothing will happen. Please Daddy? We really need to get these done! Just one weekend, and I’ll keep you updated the whole time.”

Your father remained silent, indicating he was deep in thought.

“Please…?” You coo after a few seconds, attempting to convey your strongest form of puppy dog eyes through the phone.

Silence.

More silence.

“Very well,” he mumbles, interrupting your sudden squealing. “But I will be checking up on you! If anything so much as goes wrong on the other side of town, you are coming home! Am I understood?”

“Yes! Thank you! I love you, bye!”

You quickly hung up the phone before your father could change his mind. Letting out a deep breath, you raised your eyes to Peter, a smirk sliding onto your lips.

“Hmmm,” you hummed. “It looks like you and your aunt are stuck with me this weekend.”

You couldn’t tell if he grew pale or blushed as he answered.

“My aunt is out of town for the weekend…,” He whispered as if just realizing the fact.

Your smirk grew wider.

“Perfect.”

~×~

By Saturday morning, you were sure Peter was already exhausted of your existence. All night you had forced him to go over lines with you, Angelica seeming to be your best chance at landing a role in terms of dialogue, but you weren’t done yet.

When the two of you woke, you hadn’t even allowed him a proper breakfast before dragging him back into the living room. Of course, he was grumbling the entire time.

“(Y/N)! At least let me eat!”

You shook your head defiantly, arguing, “We don’t have time! I need to get my audition down pact!”

“Which we can do after we eat! There’s bacon in the fridge. Bacon!” Peter cried, hands flailing about.

“Pete, please…,” You cooed, rounding your eyes slightly. “I promise we can have bacon for lunch, but now we have to work.”

“Lunch?!” Peter gasped, eyes growing wide. “It’s 7 am! You’re telling me I have to wait until, what, noon to eat?! (Y/N), please!”

You groaned in response, walking to the fridge.

“You know what? Fine! Let’s make a deal, yeah?” You sass, hand on your hip and a newly acquired strawberry in your free hand. “For every song we go through, I will personally hand-feed you fruit. I saw grapes and pineapple slices and cherries and more strawberries in there; I know it’s not bacon, but it’s food. Do we have a deal?”

Peter stood in awe, seeming to go over the proposition in his head. After a few seconds, he slowly began to nod.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “Yeah, okay. Deal.”

You grinned in excitement. “Yes! Okay, come on! Let’s start with Alexander Hamilton; it’s the opening number!”

And soon you two were immersed in the world of music and fruit, singing along to every song sung by a girl in the show or Aaron Burr due to the possibility of the cast being mildly genderbent. By hour two, you had finally gone through act one thoroughly, and were moving on to songs in the second act.

A few minutes in to the second act songs, you smirked. Glancing over the top of your phone at Peter who sat across the room, your cheeks reddened, but you persisted, standing slowly and moving to sit extremely close to him. When he looked up, you leaned in a little closer, allowing your lips to graze gently against his ear and your hand to stop on his bicep.

“This song is called Say No to This…,” You mumbled, pulling away only when you felt him shiver against your palm.

With the slow build of the intro of the song, you hummed along to Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton, waiting for your cue to come in.

“I know you are a man of honor. I’m so sorry to bother you at home, but I don’t know where to go, and I came here all alone,” you cooed, the musicality of your voice rising as the song progressed.

“My husband’s doin’ me wrong, beatin’ me, cheatin’ me, mistreatin’ me,” you continued, lowering your gaze to convey vulnerability. “Suddenly, he’s up and gone; I don’t have the means to go on.”

When Peter only continued to watch you as your voice grew more sensual, you grinned, placing your hands on his chest as Hamilton continued to explain the situation. Leaning forward, you forced your features to show a slightly predatory gaze.

“You’re too kind, sir!” You hummed, watching Peter lean back as you grew closer. “This one’s mine, sir!”

The song was slowly coming to one of it’s climaxes, and as it approached it’s first, you watched as Peter’s gaze widened as he let the lyrics sink in–“She turned red, she led me to her bed, let her legs spread and said–”

You broke back in, practically in Peter’s lap now.

“Stay…? Hey….”

And then you let the audio sing, only jumping in when you needed to adlib. As the chorus came to a close, you rose from your spot on Peter’s lap, a slight wave of your hips as he watched in obvious embarrassment.

You mumbled along with Lin-Manuel as he continued in character of Alexander Hamilton.

“I wish I could say that was the last time, I said that last time, it became a pastime. A month into this endeavor I received a letter from a Mr. James Reynolds, even better, it said,” you cooed, cutting short for the audio to continue.

As the song continued, you walked around the couch, a sultry look in your eyes as your fingers grazed along the back of the furniture until they landed on Peter’s shoulders. Sitting on the armrest with your thigh flush against his arm, you leaned close again, your lips dangerously close to his.

raced to her place, screamed ‘how could you?’ in her face, she said

“No sir!”

half dressed, apologetic, a mess, she looked pathetic, she cried

“Please, don’t go sir!”

so was your whole story a setup?–

“I don’t know about any letter!”

stop crying, goddamnit, get up!

“I didn’t know any better!”

I am ruined!–

“Please don’t leave me with him, helpless,” you pleaded, eyes welling with stage tears. “Just give him what he wants and you can have me!”

You pulled away completely, practically belting out the next line.

“Whatever you want, if you pay, you can stay!”

As your voice reached its peak, you withdrew slowly, eyes meeting Peter’s as he watched on. Your gaze flitted from his eyes, watching as he leaned closer to you. When your lips brushed against his ever-so-slightly, you felt a harsh blush attack your cheeks, shocking yourself from the mindset of Maria Reynolds. Now, all there was, was you and Peter. Not Maria and Alex. Just sheltered (Y/N) and shy Peter. And yet here you both sat, lips on the path of connecting.

Blinking out of your actress mindset, your half-lidded eyes flicker down to look at his lips. Looking back up to meet his gaze, you whisper over the song being sung from your phone.

“Right now, the characters are meant to be dry humping,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Really?” He asked, gulping quietly before going on. “And you aren’t because…?”

“You couldn’t handle it, Pete,” you coo, shocked by the husk in your tone.

His breathing hitched in his throat.

“Y-you aren’t wrong…,” he said.

–yes…yes…yes…yes…–

Peter’s cheeks burned as the sound of the suggestive moans of the song rang out, but you still felt the corner of his lip rise in an uncharacteristic smirk form.

“You are definitely not the girl I expected you to be,” he teased, leaning a bit closer as you leaned back. “You have a dark side….”

You laughed nervously. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

Only seconds ago, you had been oozing confidence, but the second you found yourself dropping your facade, you began to feel like a little girl under scrutiny all over again. The thing is, you could handle the scrutiny of your parents and your family and your teachers and just about everyone else, but the second you realized that Peter could be among the scrutinizers, your heart began to ache.

So you waited for his reaction. Any reaction. Just a reaction. Anything to get your heart pumping again, whether it be for better or worst. Except it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting.

Peter pushed his lips to yours. Abrupt and sloppy, but raw and full of everything you two had been holding back for months. For a second, you remained frozen in shock, but as time continued, you melted into him.

Eventually, you both pulled apart, eyes watching the other with caution. The sound of your breathing filled the room, mixing only with the transition of the next song coming on. As the upbeat tune hit a high note, large smiles simultaneously burst onto your faces.

“Good,” Peter mumbled, forehead meeting yours. “Definitely good.”

With a short laugh, you leaned forward, a new eagerness in your actions, only to be cut short by a shrill ringing.

Daddy

~×~

Later that week, after Aunt May had returned and learned of the development between you two, “(Y/N) and Peter sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” had been the only song leaving her lips. Not that either of you minded; it wasn’t like she was lying, and with a smirk, you continued to prove her right.

Impact (Taehyung x Reader)

In which Taehyung is both a mess and your best friend.

Request: Taehyung + high school AU please? <3

Fluff, 4.7k words, taehyung/reader, high school au

You’re not exactly the goody-two-shoes type, who’s always nice and generous and good at everything, but you’re not exactly a problem child, either. You’re just a normal student, living her life, trying to stay out of trouble and graduate peacefully.

But apparently a certain hyperactive classmate doesn’t quite agree with your plan.

Taehyung is…special, to say the least. You’re still not sure why you let him tag along with you; maybe it’s because it’s easier to do that than try and peel him off of you. He’s developed the tendency to appear out of nowhere, latching onto you like a burr on wool, always eager to poke and prod and annoy the hell out of you.

You met him last year during gym class. Under strange and painful circumstances. Well, on your part, at least.

Keep reading

The Legacy of the Marauders

The Weasley Twins had gotten caught.

They had thought that they were in the clear. Just a few more yards and they’d be in the Gryffindor common room. So they had gone for it at a flat out sprint.

Then that damned cat, Mrs. Norris, had tripped George up. The boy had yelled for his twin to keep going, to leave him behind, but Fred had refused. They were twins. They stuck together; no matter what.

By the time George had gotten up, and the two had started to run again, Argus Filch, Enemy No. One, had turned the corner and had found the culprits behind all of the fifth floor being painted blue. All of it.

“You!” Filch screeched, hobbling forward.

“Who, him?”

The Weasley Twins spoke at the same time, both pointing at the other brother.

“Both of you,” Filch growled, forehead throbbing. “I know what you did!”

“Do you really?” George asked.

“Well, then,” Fred continued. “Care to enlighten us? Because I’m afraid we haven’t the slightest clue.”

Filch sneered, coming to a stop in front of the beaming gingers. “Come with me. The both of you.”

Fred and George exchanged a glance and a sigh, knowing that they had lost this battle. Frowning, they trudged along behind the caretaker. They listened warily to the mutterings he said to himself, underneath his breath.

After what seemed to be ages, the trio finally reached Filch’s cupboard of an office. Grumbling to himself, the caretaker shuffled them into the two rickety chairs in front of his cluttered desk. Four different file cabinets were in each of the corners, all with random pieces of parchments sticking out of an array of drawers.

George glanced around the cluttered room, his eyes skimming over his brother as he glared at Filch. Looking at the largest file cabinet (it was so tall that it nearly touched the ceiling), the corner of George’s lip twitched. Nudging Fred in the side, George discreetly nodded towards the storage area with the file cabinet, which was very obviously marked ‘Confiscated Items.’

A wicked grin spread across Fred’s face as he made eye contact with his twin. Flicking his eyes toward the caretaker, Fred scrunched his eyebrows together. George bit his lip, before finally shrugging. There was no way they could distract Filch if both of them were in the office with the man.

“Ah!” The exclamation caught the twins’ attention. They looked up to see Filch holding a piece of parchment and a quill. “Detention form. Let’s see… Student: Fred and George Weasley. Reason: Somehow managed to paint the entirety of the fifth floor blue. Comments: Punishment suggested to be whi-”

A scream and then a crash cut the caretaker off. The trio all looked up at the ceiling, waiting for any clue to what was happening. Another crash sounded, shaking dust from the ceiling, before being followed by shrill laughter.

“Peeves,” Filch growled. “Stay here!”

The man hobbled out of the room as fast as he could. Fred and George glanced at each other, amazed at their luck. Acting quickly, Fred went to the door to stand watch and George rushed to the file cabinet, slamming the drawer open. George shuffled through the objects, trying to find the best thing to take.

There was a wide array of Fanged Frisbees and Filibuster’s Fireworks, along with Dungbombs and Fake Wands. Multitudes of Zonko’s products were in the drawer, which wasn’t much of a shock. There was everything from Nose-Biting Teacups to Shock Quills. George frowned. He was trying to find anything of use, but he and Fred already had most of these things stored away in their dorm. Then, his hand brushed something unexpected.

Brow furrowed, George pulled out a blank parchment. “Here’s something,” he called.

Fred turned, looking to see what his brother had discovered. “What are you on about? It’s just a piece of rubbish parchment.”

“Then why’s it with ‘confiscated items?’”

“I dunno. Maybe he misplaced it.”

George shook his head, turning the parchment over in his hands. “I don’t think so.”

Fred opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by the sound of shuffling feet. Swearing under his breath, Fred raced back to his seat next to his brother. George was already in his chair, and was in the process of shoving the parchment under his shirt. Fred tossed a light glare at his twin, shaking his head minutely. George rolled his eyes, and the door slammed open.

Filch hobbled in, angrily muttering to himself. Shuffling around the corner of his desk, the old caretaker hit his toe against the edge of one of his filing cabinets. The man swore loudly, shaking his head as he sunk into his rickety, wooden chair. He grabbed a quill and some parchment and started to write.

The twins exchanged an awkward glance. Fred cleared his throat.

Filch looked up, shocked when he saw two Gryffindor boys sitting in front of him. When had they gotten there? What were they up to? He stumbled over his questions before finally managing to point at the door.

“Get out!”

Fred and George were out the door and halfway down the corridor before they even considered asking questions. The boys slowed down from the sprint they had, simultaneously glancing over their shoulders.

“Wonder what that was,” George said.

“Who cares, mate?” Fred grinned, clapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We got out scot-free. I don’t plan on complaining.”

George rolled his eyes, but smiled back at his brother all the same. Fred was right, obviously. He usually was.

“Only thing is,” Fred said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why’d you grab that parchment, mate? It’s rubbish compared to everything else.”

“We already had everything else,” George replied. “Besides, I’ve got a good feeling about it.”

Fred opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a high pitched giggle.

“The Weasel Twinnies are in trouble again…”

The boys looked up to see Peeves floating above them, grinning crazily.

“I would know. Old Filch-y was screaming, and whining, and hollering about you when he walked into a mist of Memory Fog.”

“Memory Fog?” Fred asked.

“What’s that?” George continued

Peeves laughed. “Oh, no. Good ol’ Peeves won’t give his secrets out that easily.”

The Gryffindor troublemakers shouted protests as Peeves hovered away, cackling madly. Fred pouted after the poltergeist.

“Don’t worry about it, mate,” George said. “We’ll get it out of him eventually. We’ve got seven years to do so, anyways. And when we do, we’ll add it to our products for the joke shop.”

“I suppose,” Fred sighed. “Anyways, you said you had a good feeling about the parchment? Fireflies.”

The duo had reached the Gryffindor Common Room. Together, they clambered through the secret entrance. The Common Room was just as packed as usual. Things were flying around the circular space, and friends shouted across the room to each other. The boys sat down on the ground in a cornered area with an obstructed view of everyone else, ducking their heads in towards each other.

“Yeah, I did,” George confirmed.

Fred was dubious. “How can you get a feeling from a piece of parchment? What’s it supposed to do?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s got to do something good, right?”

Fred sighed. “I still think you’re wrong and that it’s a piece of rubbish that Filch misplaced.”

George finally looked up from the parchment. “Two sickles you’re wrong.”

“Alright, fine,” Fred shook his brother’s hand with a raised eyebrow.

George nodded, leaning back against the wall. He tapped his wand against the parchment, brow furrowed. He mumbled to himself, thinking out loud, “How can a piece of parchment help two trouble makers?”

“Let me know when you realize it won’t, will you?” Fred said.

George scoffed, looking down at the parchment. Black ink marks stained corners of the page. As George looked closer, he noticed that the ink seemed to be swirling around. He let out a strangled gasp, and his his brother in the shoulder.

“Ow! What?!”

“What did I just say?”

Fred stared. “What?”

“What did I just say? Just a little bit ago?” George’s voice was rushed.

“I don’t know,” Fred said. “Something about trouble makers?”

George repeated the words, tapping the parchment. The fading ink in the corners twisted and flowed around the parchment, before coming to the center. Words in an elegant and precise calligraphy formed on the page.

You’re getting close…

“Bloody hell,” George breathed. “Fred, take a look at this.”

Fred was still bitter as he looked at his brother, who was eagerly shaking the blank parchment in front of his face. Except… it was no longer blank. Fred stared at the cursive, completely taken aback.

“Was that there before?”

“No,” George said. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Well, how…”

“No idea.”

“Well try again!”

George rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. “You owe me two sickles.”

“Sure, sure,” Fred waved his hand mindlessly. “Just try that again!”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know!” Fred said. “You got it to work before, didn’t you?”

George glared at his brother.

“What?”

Ignoring Fred, George tapped the parchment with his wand again. “Give us a clue?”

The same handwriting as before spread across the page:

No need, mate. You said you were troublemakers, yeah?

The twins glanced at each other. They responded in unison. “Yeah.”

In that case, we’ll just tell you. Any trouble maker has an ally in us.

“Tell us what?” George asked.

“And who’s we?” Fred added.

We are the Marauders. Or, that’s what they called us. Essentially;

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, purveyors of aids to magical mischief-makers are proud to present the Marauder’s Map.

“Map?” George asked, eyes alight in wonder. “What are you on about?”

We, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs that is, created this when we were at Hogwarts. It’s a map that’ll show you all of Hogwarts in real time; including the shortcuts, secret passageways, and the people.

“The people?”

Yep. It shows you where they are, as they move. Whoever is in the castle. No illusion will hide them. Took a lot of work, but we managed it.

“Bloody hell,” Fred and George spoke in unison.

“How do we use it?” Fred asked, eagerly.

Just tap the map, and say ‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.’ After that, you’ll be able to see everything in Hogwarts, the grounds, and a portion of Hogsmeade. Only the parts where passages lead though. Once you’re done, tap it again and say ‘mischief managed.’

“Cool,” the twins breathed.

Thing is, whoever was speaking to the twins continued, after that, you’re not going to be able to talk to us. That only ever happens for when someone gets the map. We react in the right  way to trigger words from people. It’s great fun really! So, we have one request.

“I- yeah!” George agreed. “Of course. This is bloody brilliant!

Keep the map here. Once you graduate, leave the map here, or pass it on in some way. When you feel the time is right, continue the legacy of Hogwarts mischief makers. Good luck, mates!

Fred and George grinned at each other.

“Let’s do this then.”

As Fred raised his wand, an urgent scrawl appeared across the map, the other handwriting slowly disappearing.

Wait!

Prongs! What are you doing, mate? Let me be mysterious and charismatic, dammit!

Shut it, Padfoot. Just one more request, lads. Tell Minnie we say hello.

Fred and George grinned at each other, a devious glint in their eyes.


The next day, as Minerva McGonagall walked into her office, she faltered in her step.

A ceramic cat sat on her desk. Eyebrows furrowed, the professor walked closer. Around the cat’s neck was a plaque that read;

From the Marauders, and any future mischief makers of Hogwarts. (Love, the Weasley Twins).

A small laugh escaped her lips.


Also posted on fanfiction.net under nox06. 

Caught(Sirius Black)

Summary: You’re James’ twin sister, and dating Sirius in secret because you’re scared what James will do. Remus catches you and you have to convince him not to tell James.

Warning: Fluff too much to handle


You watched as Marlene, James, Lily, Remus, and Peter left to Hogsmeade. You’d told them you had too much homework to go and you really needed to get it done. Sirius wasn’t with them because he felt sick. You waited a minute after they left, then headed up to the boys’ dormitories. Halfway up you ran into Sirius. 
“Oh, hey there Y/N,” Sirius says. 
“Ew, don’t come near me! I don’t wanna get sick people germs!” You said, covering your hand over your mouth and nose. He chuckled and pulled you into a hug. Then he picked you up and carried you over his shoulder. You giggled as he carried you into his dorm and dropped you onto his bed. He then proceeded to attack your face in kisses before tickling you while you screamed pleas for him to stop. After a minute you managed to grab a pillow to shield yourself. 
“Oh, come on!” Sirius whined, plopping down on you like a human blanket. 
“Ow! Get off me!” You commanded. 
“Only if I can get a kiss,” he replied. 
“Alright, fine, fine. One kiss,” you finally accepted. Sirius smiled and rolled off you. You sat up and pecked him on the lips, but he was lightning fast and grabbed you ‘round the waist. He pulled you closer to him and onto his lap. You continued to make out for a good five minutes. That is until the door shot open and you shot away from Sirius, jumping twenty feet in the air. It was only Remus. 
“What’re you two doing in here? I thought you were sick and you had homework…” Remus said, confused. You began to stutter and Sirius was looking nervous. “Wait, were…were you two…?” Remus asked. Sirius gave a small nod. 
“Please, Remus. Don’t tell James! He won’t let me hang out with you guys anymore,” you begged. Remus looked away and seemed to be thinking about this. 
“Please, mate. You know how James is about Y/N. I’d be dead within seconds. Wouldn’t even stand a chance!” 
“What wouldn’t stand a chance?” James asked, walking through the open doorway. Surely, he didn’t hear what you’d been talking about. Hopefully. 
“Snivellus against you in a duel,” Remus said, covering for you and Sirius. You mouthed thanks to him and left. 
“What was she doing in here?” James asked. 
“Just checking up on me,” Sirius said. Then he crawled into bed and took a nap to sleep off the anxiety he’d felt moments before. 
You ran to your dorm and plopped down on your bed. You managed to prevent yourself from hyperventilating and tried to think about anything else. 


“Hey, Y/N?” Sirius asks while fiddling with the corner of the picnic blanket.
“Yes, love?” You respond, looking up at him from your sandwich. 
“Do you…do you think we should…?” Sirius hesitated and stopped. 
“We should…? What?” You question. 
“Well, I was thinking about it… And I thought maybe… You know… We should tell James that we’re dating…?” He was obviously very nervous. As much as you wanted James to know the truth, you were way too scared to ever actually tell him. 
“Maybe… I’m just scared that he won’t let us date, you know?” You said. 
“He can’t tell me who to date. You neither,” Sirius said, almost confidently. 
“Maybe we could like… Tell him that we want to date, but we won’t if it makes him uncomfortable. And, you know, not tell him we’ve been dating in secret,” you suggest. 
“Yeah, but if we tell him I want to tell him everything. Not telling him about us dating already would just make things more complicated. And besides, he’d probably say he’d be uncomfortable with it.” 
“Yeah…” You sigh. There was a pause while you two were in deep thought. 
After a while Sirius says, “We really do need to tell him sometime, though.”


“Sirius, We might get caught…” You hesitated. 
“ ‘S fine, Y/N,” Sirius whispered in your ear and pulled you closer to him. It was after another Quidditch victory for Gryffindor and people had gone upstairs a couple hours ago. Now you and Sirius were snuggled together on a couch in front of the fire in the Common Room. 
You curled around in his arms to face him and give him a soft kiss. Then you snuggled your face into the crook of his neck and drifted in and out of sleep. Sirius placed several sweet, little kisses across your cheek and down your neck. Finally, you both fell asleep, wrapped up in each other arms on the couch in the Common Room, in front of the dying fire. 


“Good morning, angel,” Sirius whispered in your ear as you started to wake. You were still groggy as Sirius started kissing you. 
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” You heard someone yell. “Get your bloody hands off my sister!” 
Suddenly you were wide awake. Before you could do anything about it, James’ hands had clamped down on your shoulder and pulled you away from Sirius. Then he started to attack Sirius. You tried to stop him, but he was too big and strong and you had no affect on him. 
Thankfully Remus came down quickly and separated them. James was fuming mad, a very scary thing to witness, let alone know you were the cause of it. 
“James, mate, before you make any rash decisions, you should hear them out. Let him defend himself,” Remus said. 
“Let him defend himself? Defend himself? Why should he defend himself? Why shouldn’t I pummel him to the ground for kissing my sister?” James asked. 
“I-I…” Sirius started to stutter.
“He obviously cares about Y/N. He wouldn’t just mess with her like you think he would. He knows that she’s important to you and wouldn’t go breaking her heart for the fun of it,” Remus defended. James didn’t seem to buy this. 
“That’s not him defending himself, that’s you defending him.”
“Oh, good god! James, are you so blind that you can’t see you’ve scared your best friend? This is Sirius we’re talking about. Sure he’s got some major flaws, like he doesn’t do the best in school, he doesn’t have the best reputation, he gets a lot of detentions and stuff, and doesn’t do much reading; but he’s got a good heart. Can’t you see the reason he hasn’t been bringing girls up to the dorm lately is because he’s staying loyal to me? Because even though he could technically get away with it, he doesn’t want to hurt me. If you don’t want me with Sirius and his bad boy rep, do you want me with an actual bad boy? Wouldn’t you prefer I was with someone you actually know, and know won’t hurt me? Or should I go find some other guy and hope he’s good?” You weren’t sure what caused you to say all that, but you weren’t about to let a few guys decide if you could be with the person you like. “And you know what else? You can’t tell me who to date or not date. Because you’re not the boss of me. You think that because you’re my brother you need to protect me from every little thing, but I need to stand on my own sometimes, too. You’re my brother, and I’ll always need you, but you can’t plan out my life in very distinct detail and control it, no matter how much you want to. I need to be my own person.” 
James could only stare at you. Actually, that’s all Sirius or Remus could do either.
“Is that really how you feel?” James asked, worry etched on his face.
“Kinda,” you said with a small shrug. Suddenly James was enveloping you in a hug. 
“I’m so sorry Y/N. I never even realized. I just don’t want you to get hurt,” James practically sobbed into your shoulder. 
“I know, and I’m grateful. But you can’t protect me from everything. It’s impossible.” You wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug.
When James finally let go he said, “I’m not happy about you and Sirius…but I guess I can’t really stop you from dating, can I?” 
“No, no you can’t,” you said. 


AND THE END! YOU ALL LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER AND JAMES ACCEPTS THAT YOU AND SIRIUS ARE JUST MEANT TO BE AND YOU RIDE OFF INTO THE SUNSET!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I lied) | Part 2Part 3

"Sweet Secrets" Loucel smut

\WARNING//

This is a smut fanfiction, it does contain gay sex and homosexual tendencies, !!!IT DOES CONTAIN HOMOPHOBIC AND STRONG LANGUAGE!!!
You have been warned.
_______________________________________________________________

This is an open/Marcel, closet/Louis fic.

Marcel sat in Earth Science, absently drawing giraffes in his notebook instead of taking notes. A few minutes pass and Louis walks in with a couple of his mates from football.

“Where’s your boyfriend, Marcy?” Louis calls, a snide tone in his voice, his mates from football snickering and high-fiving him.

“I don’t know, where’s yours?” Marcel responds, his quick wit getting the better of him.

Louis raised an eyebrow and scoffed, “Wow, great comeback, original.” He rolled his eyes at the geek and sat down at his usual spot, a few seats behind Marcel. Marcel just chuckled and went back to drawing in his notebook.

As the teacher began teaching, Louis tore a page from his notebook and crumpled it, tossing it at the back of the younger boys head. He hissed through his teeth,

“Oi, twat, I can’t see through your big head!” Louis yelled.


The class erupted in laughter at Marcel’s expense.


Marcel, not even turning around to face Louis, said “Funny, that’s what your dad was saying last night, but he wasn’t talking about the one upstairs.”, receiving “oohs” from the whole class.

Louis’ jaw dropped as his eyes zeroed in on Marcel before he stood and slammed his hands on the desk. “Outside. Now.” Louis said through gritted teeth. Marcel stood and strolled out of the room, a smile on his face. Louis followed him out and growled angrily as he paced the hallway. Marcel leans on the wall, waiting patiently.

“I hate you.” Louis spat. “Cock-sucking little faggot.”

Marcel shrugged, “You are what you hate.”, he retorted.

“Fuck off!” Louis screamed in anger.

“You wish.” Marcel said and scoffed.

Louis rolled his eyes and shoved the taller boy. “Kill yourself.”

Marcel clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Now, that not very nice. That was actually rather rude.” He said, furrowing his brow.
“Anyway, I’m going back to class.” he said, turning on his heel and starting back to the class door.

Louis grabbed his book and slammed his locker shut. “Fucking faggots at this school!” Louis yelled after him.

“Stop insulting yourself, mate! It’s not good for the soul!” Marcel called back.

Louis clenched his teeth and ran after him, easily faster before shoving Marcel against the wall.

“Watch it, specs.” Louis said.

Marcel smiled “Watch it, pecs…”

“Ya know, I guarantee you this looks exactly how you don’t want it to.” Marcel continued.

“Oh, fuck you.” Louis rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Marcel said snidely.

Louis glared at him and clenched his jaw “Would I now?”

Marcel inched ever closer to him and whispered in his ear, “I very much think you would.”

Louis shoved the other boys chest, slamming again against the wall. “I think you’d prefer that much more than I.” Louis growled against the nerds ear.

“While that’s true,” Marcel said “don’t knock it before you try it.” He then walked back into class, and calmly sat in his seat. Louis staring at him in awe, his jaw dropped.

Louis angrily stormed back into the classroom. “What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?” Louis spluttered, licking his lip.

“Oh, I think you know.” Marcel said

“Tell me.” Louis said sternly

Marcel sat quietly.

“Oh, ignoring me now huh, Styles?” Louis scoffed at sat down beside him, “I can do this all day.” Louis said, prodding his temple roughly.

The teacher started to call out names of the partners she had assigned for the project they were doing.
“Marshall and Clarissa”
“Katie and Beth”
“Marcel and Louis”

Marcel smiled widely at that, knowing it would piss off Louis. Louis groaned “Miss, can I have a partner who’s less of a fag, please?”

The teacher looked at him and narrowed her eyes, “Louis, I strongly suggest you learn to respect your peers and learn acceptance of those that are different than you. I placed you with Marcel for that reason.” she said.

“This is bullshit!” Louis yelled and threw his hands up, “He’s gonna try and bum me!”

“Sorry, but doing that without your consent is rape, and last I checked, I’m no rapist.” Marcel said in a snide tone.

“Miss, he’s threatening to rape me!” Louis yelled dramatically, turning around to whine to his friends.“

The teacher again turned, “Louis, you’re with Marcel and that, is, final. Now, if you interrupt my class one, more, time, I will not hesitate to give you detention.”

Louis scowled, “Bitch” Louis muttered under his breath. He leaned back in his chair and turned to Marcel, “Okay, faggot, what did you mean when you said ‘Don’t knock it before you try it’?”

"It doesn’t matter.” Marcel said

“Tell me.” Louis growled

“My place or yours?” Marcel asked

“What are you even talking about!?” Louis yelled

“The studying, you blathering idiot!” Marcel yelled back

Louis smacked the back of Marcel’s head, Marcel’s fists clutching under the table. “God, I really want to choke you.” Louis said angrily

Marcel regained his composure and smiled, “Into auto-erotic asphyxiation, are we?”

“Fuck yourself, Styles.” Louis growled, growing impatient.

“Now, my place or yours?” Marcel asked again, becoming annoyed.

Louis put his hands over his face, “Your house.”

“Alright,” Marcel said “that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

Louis glared at him.

~Marcel’s house~

“Gay bedroom.” Louis scoffed, knocking a pile of books off a desk and onto the floor. Marcel watched the papers fly and shrugged,

“Yeah, I guess so, being that I live here.” he said.

Louis rolled his eyes, “You’re an idiot and I hate you.” Louis spat, sitting down on the bed and opening his textbook, Marcel doing the same.

“What did you mean anyway? In class today.”
Louis asked, curious.

“Which part?” Marcel said

“Don’t knock it before you try it.” Louis said

“Don’t knock it before you try it…” Marcel smiled “you can’t say you don’t like something before you’ve tried it, so why not try me?” He smiled wider, still reading from his textbook.

“Fuck off, Marcel.” Louis said, crossing his legs. Marcel just chuckled.

“The only way you’re ever going to get this dick is if you take it out by force, now, I’m going to piss.” Louis got up and tugged on his skinny jeans.

“Alright.” Marcel said, taking notes from the chapter.

Louis looked down the hallway, “Erm, where’s your toilet?”

Marcel looked up at him “First door on the left.” he said, then looked back down at the book.

Louis walked into the bathroom, locking it before turning on the faucet and splashing water on his face. “Oh, Louis, what the fuck are you doing?” he thought. He took a towel from a rack and wiped off his face before hanging it back up and walking back to Marcel’s room.

“Have a good wank?” Marcel asked as soon as Louis walked back into the room.

“Shut the fuck up.” Louis retorted, his nostrils flaring.

Marcel just chuckled, having nothing else to say, and went back to taking notes. Louis could do nothing but stare at him, Marcel could feel his gaze burn through him.

“What?” Marcel asked, genuinely confused.

“Stop it.” Louis said through gritted teeth.

“Stop what?” Marcel asked, feeling wrongfully accused.

“Fucking stop!” Louis yelled

“Stop what?!” Marcel screamed

“I’m not fucking gay!” Louis yelled as he climbed atop Marcel’s lap and smashed his lips to Marcel’s desperately.

 

Sorry, did I forget to mention that this was only part one? Oops. Twenty-five notes/reblogs and I’ll start the next part.

Hm, just to be bold, let’s make it fifty. If it doesn’t get there, I’ll still post it.

back to the room, where it all began

Summary: Dan is a teacher who’s married to Phil, who stays at home and takes care of their new five month old son, Matthias. When they learn that their old high school is being torn down, they go visit it one last time for old memories.

Genre: AU, Fluff

Word Count: 1,542

Beta: thank you again to the kind and wonderful japan-phan

Keep reading

But We’re Friends || Chan || Pt. 3

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt. 3 //

Word Count: 2256

Genre: fluff, high school!au, childhood friends!au

Summary: Nothing was more cliché than falling in love with your childhood friend and Chan didn’t believe in that stuff. He didn’t like you like that. Even when your smile began to send his heart skipping and your words made him toss and turn at night he didn’t believe it. He couldn’t possibly like you. You guys were just friends!


You stared at your notebook, scribbling down senseless words and pretending like you were doing something. You sighed, placing your pencil down on your notebook and stared at the page. You looked up. Your teacher wasn’t even there. She had gone to the teacher’s lounge, leaving you to your own devices. All she said was that if you weren’t there when she came back to check on you before detention ended, you’d get in big trouble. You slumped further into your seat and eventually placed your head against the desk. You felt like crying.

Keep reading

Detention - Chapter 2!

Summary: Phil Lester gets detention again, and meets Dan Howell, who is a shy and quiet kid and never talks to anyone. Phil picks up a conversation with Dan and they take a liking to each other. Phil doesn’t want to stop talking to Dan so he offers him a ride home and a friendship blossoms right before their eyes.

Genre: AU, Fluff

Word Count: 1,854

Chapters: One

Keep reading

Today, I was informed by my first period teacher that I am to serve a detention tomorrow at lunch. I am to spend a half hour in the staff room  instead of eating lunch with my friends, which is basically the only form of face-to-face, physical social interaction with peers that I get in an average school day apart from the stressful group tasks that teachers sometimes assign. Really, it was a great way to start an already shitty day, which was part of an increasingly shitty week.

It’s only fair, I guess; rules are rules, and no matter how bad of a mood I was been I shouldn’t have said, “Don’t you dare fucking touch me,” to my classmate who was attempting to embrace me despite my obvious aversion to physical contact with people I don’t willingly spend time with outside of class. Saying bad words is simply a bad habit I need to break in order to be successful in this world, because there definitely aren’t any jobs that allow people to speak unrestricted.

Certain monosyllabic words are just inherently evil, and punishing those who use them is of far greater import than, say, making sure students are learning. Saying “fuck” is wrong and inappropriate, as it a synonym for sexual intercourse and frequently used for emphasis.

It was a huge insult to my fellow students for the word to have been so much as uttered in their presence, even if it was aimed at the unwelcome action one was about to perform, rather than the classmate himself. Instead, I should be polite and ladylike, because obviously everyone in my “ghetto-ass” high school is civilized unlike me.

Douchebag - Luke Hemmings Smut

Requested by anon

I stand at my locker, gathering my books for the last class of the day, biology.  Also known as the worst class of the day.  You see, there'e this kid, Luke, Luke Hemmings.  And well, to sum it up, I hate him.  A lot.  He’s your typical jock who runs around thinking he’s the shit.  I put up with him every day and it’s absolute hell.  I dreadfully walk into my class and take a seat at my spot quietly.  As always, Luke isn’t here yet because he’s always late, thinking it’s cool.  The only reason I know this is because I was put next to him and he bothers me every single class when he finally decides to come to class.  The teacher begins the lesson an Luke walks in like he does every day, strutting around like everyone loves him.  He slumps down in his spot and looks over to me, then winks.  I give him a look of disgust before turning back to the board.  "Hey, I need a pencil.“ he says poking my shoulder, annoying me more than ever.  "Find your own.”  I say with clenched teeth.  "Just give me one"  he says whining.  "No"  I simply reply.  "Give me one.“ he continues having a tantrum.  "No.”  I tell him again.  "Give me one.“  he keeps poking at me.  I finally get fed up and give him a little punch in the stomach, causing him to let out a groan of pain.  The teacher walks over, an unamused look on her face.  "Do we have a problem here?”  she asks.  "Nope.“  I tell her.  "Yeah!  She fuckin punched me!”  Luke yells.  "Mr. Hemmings, language.  I think you’ll both learn a lesson in detention after school today.“ she says walking away.  I look over to Luke and punch him in the arm but this time he shuts up and doesn’t draw attention to himself.  "You’ll learn a lesson alright.” he smirks.  I ignore him but still think about how he got me into trouble.  He was the one provoking me to punch him.  

The period ends and Luke and I stay seated, as we have to spend a whole other hour here because of him.  "Now, you both sit here and think about how you’re not going to disrupt my class again.“ the teacher says leaving the room.  "I’ll be back in an hour.”  she says as the door closes.  "This is all your fault.“  I scold Luke.  "Yeah, okay.”  Luke says rolling his eyes.  I suddenly feel his hand on my thigh after a few moments of silence and my breath hitches.  "Am I making you nervous baby girl?“  he asks smirking.  "N-no” I stutter out, not being as strong as before.  "What about now?“  he asks brushing his lips against my ear.  "No.”  I say swallowing hard.  "Well then.  I think I’m gonna have to teach you a little lesson.“  he whispers pulling me onto his lap.  "You’ve been bad.” he says rubbing over my clothed heat.  I let out a whimper as the friction.  "Do you need something?“ he asks, his mouth brushing over my jaw.  "Y-yes.”  I whimper again.  "What’s that?“  he asks.  "Yes.”  I tell him.  "What do you need?“  he demands.  "Y-you.”  I say starting to grind on his thigh.  He grips my hips tightly so I can’t move them anymore.  "I didn’t give you permission to do that, babe.“ he says warning me.  "Now what do you want.  Say my name.” he demands again.  "I want you, I want you Luke.“   I manage to say as my heat throbs.  "I want you to beg for it.”  he says biting my bottom lip.  "I need you Luke.“  I whine.  "What do you need me to do?”  he asks, still holding my hips down.  "T-to fuck m-me.“  I say moving my hand down to where I need it most, realizing I’ve made a mistake.  "You shouldn’t have done that baby girl.”  he says biting his lip ring.  He lays me down on the table, hovering over me as he grinds his hips into mine, making me want him even more.  He does this for a few minutes before it starts making me go crazy.  "Luke, I n-need you.“  I say.  "Well you should have though about that before touching yourself without my permission.”  he growls in my ear.  "Now you have to wait even longer, and if you do it again I make you wait even more.  No touching, grinding or moving.  Got it?“ he says running a hand over my thigh.  "Yes.”  I whimper.  He presses his hand over my clothed core, softly rubbing it, making me want even more friction.  I squeeze my thighs together, remembering his rule and now regretting it.  "Baby girl, what did I tell you?“  he asks biting my bottom lip again.  I don’t answer.  "What did I tell you?  Answer me.”  he says gripping my thigh harder.  "N-not to touch m-myself or m-move.“  I say just wanting him to finally be inside me.  "And what did you do?”  he asks biting at my ear lobe.  "I-I moved.“  I say.  "Exactly.  Now you’re gonna wait even longer.” he says moving circles with his thumb over my core, my pants still separating his skin from mine.  I lay there as he keeps teasing me, trying my best not to make a move.  He then pulls my shirt up and undoes my bra, throwing them off the table.  He takes my breasts in both his hands, making me moan.  "Not too loud.“ he says kissing my lips.  His hands run down my stomach, making my hips buck up at the contact.  "Tsk tsk.  Moving again?  When will you ever learn?”  he chuckles, pulling my pants down my legs.  He runs a finger over the fabric of my underwear, making me gasp.  "Now.“  he begins to say while bringing his face back up to mine.  "No touching.” he says kissing my lips again.  "If you do, you’ll be sorry.“ he says pulling his pants down his legs, kicking them off, leaving  him in his boxers which are then removed and thrown aside.  He grabs a condom and slides it on, but not yet lining up at my entrance.  He takes a finger and runs it up my heat, causing my back to arch.  He inserts one finger as his thumb rubs my clit, causing me to moan.  Soon enough, he adds another finger, curling them inside of me as I reach for his hair and grab at it.  "Rule breaker are we?” he asks pulling his fingers out, leaving me feeling empty.  "I told you no touching.“  he says grabbing his jersey, flipping me over and bringing my hands behind my back.  He ties the jersey around my wrists and turns me back over.  "I told you you’d be sorry.”  he says in a deep voice.  He brings his fingers back down and pushes them in again, pulling in and out.  "And if you come without my permission I won’t be happy.“  he says squeezing my hip.  He finally brings his tip to my entrance, teasing a little more before slamming into me.  He thrusts harder and harder as a knot in my stomach builds up.  "I-I’m close”  I whimper.  "Not yet.“ he growls.  All I want to do his bury my hands in his soft hair and run them all over his body but the jersey prevents me from doing so.  I hold on longer as he speeds up and his eyes look into mine.  "God you look so good underneath me.” he groans.  "Release.“  he says as he cums into the condom and rides out both of our highs.  He pulls out, slipping the condom off and throwing it into a nearby trash can.  He reaches behind me, untying the jersey, allowing my hands to grip his broad shoulders and pull him down, roughly kissing him.  "Maybe I need to teach you a lesson next time.”  I smirk against his lips.  I leave him breathless as I get up, collecting my clothes and putting them on, taking a seat in my chair.  He throws his jersey on along with his other clothes and does the same.  The teacher walks in shortly after, dismissing us.  "I hope you two learned a lesson.“  she says as we both leave.  "Oh we did.”  Luke grins.  We both walk down the hall, smiling like idiots.  "We should get detention more often.“  he says kissing me on the cheek before walking off to his car.