Take Me Under
a ford x reader fic
MINORS DNI
warnings: NONCON, drugging, somnophilia, oral, smut
so this is a spiritual successor to my last fic, it’s not a continuation but the themes are similar
It was a warm summer night in Gravity Falls. The crickets chirped as you sat out on the porch with your research partner, Stanford Pines. You nursed your glass of whiskey that Ford had poured for you. It had been a long night of research, Ford was trying to build an interdimensional gateway, stuff you would’ve thought five years ago only existed in science fiction, but he really was a genius.
His other partner had already gone home for the night, Fiddleford. He was a good guy, a family man with a son, you believed his name was Tate. Tonight you were kind of happy Fiddleford had left already, you liked him just fine but the truth was you had feelings for his cohort.
You blushed whenever Ford looked your way, eyed his hands as they fiddled with the laboratory devices, wondering to yourself how his hands would feel on you. There were so many times you wanted to tell him how you felt, to confess your true feelings. With Fiddleford almost always present the timing never felt right, but tonight you had Ford all to yourself.
Neither of you said much, just taking in the night air. You bounced your leg nervously, you started to feel light headed but decided to ignore it. Ford studied your face, it was clear you were anxious about something.
“Y/n, are you okay?”
You bit the bullet and took a deep breath.
“Ford, I-“
But before you could get another word out the world around you began to sway, the corners of your vision going black, the darkness slowly creeping in. You felt yourself falling forward. The last thing you heard was Ford’s voice.
“Y/n? Y/n!”
-
Ford caught you in his arms, he looked down at you, not sure what to do. He shook you.
“Y/n! Y/n!”
He tried to collect his thoughts, what the hell had just happened? You were fine all day and now you were out cold. He put a hand to your forehead, it felt normal, you weren’t sick.
A chilling laugh that made the hairs on his neck stand on end echoed through his head.
“Well well well well well well well well well, looks like the perfect opportunity is right in front of you, sixer.”
Ford swallowed. “Bill?”
“The one and only. So what do you think of my handiwork?”
“Handiwork? What handiwork?”
“Oh come on, you’ve been pining after this kid for ages and you’ve been too darn afraid to do anything so I figured I’d throw you a bone.”
Ford felt a pit grow in his stomach “Bill… what did you do?”
“It’s really not that big of a deal, sixer. I just had you add a little something special to their drink.”
Ford was horrified. “Bill, that’s- you can’t-“
“Oh come off it Fordsy, you and I both know this is a golden opportunity. Do you seriously think you’re gonna have the guts to even kiss them when they’re awake?”
Ford bit his lip, Bill was right, he was a coward when it came to you.
“Mull it over, I’ll leave you two alone for now, don’t be a pussy. Byyyyyyeeeee.”
And with that things were quiet again, it was just Ford and you lying unconscious in his arms. He felt his pulse in his throat. He had wanted to kiss you, to know you intimately for so long. Would he really get another chance like this?
He stood up, and carried you through the front door. He walked through the dark shack, the floorboards creaking underneath his feet. He opened the door to his room and walked to the edge of his bed, setting you down gently on the plush covers.
He cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. He knew it was sick, but thought you looked incredibly cute passed out. Your lips were parted slightly, so kissable. He couldn’t resist, he leaned down and kissed you deeply and felt himself grow achingly hard. Fuck, this felt so wrong but he didn’t have the will to stop himself now.
His fingers traced the top button of your blouse, undoing each of them slowly, kissing his way down the valley between your breasts as he did so.
He thumbed the delicate lace of your bra, god if you hadn’t planned to be seen like this why would you wear something so sexy underneath? He slipped a hand down your back to sit you up so he could undo your bra.
He sucked in a breath as he laid you back down and took in the sight of your breasts, they were so fucking perfect. He had pictured it in his mind thousands of times but the real thing was even better than he imagined. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. Taking your other breast in his hand, he circled your nipple with his index finger.
His cock throbbed through his pants. If this was wrong why was he so turned on? Was he really that depraved? He shook his head, trying to escape the thoughts and enjoy the moment.
He ran his calloused hands up your thighs and started to pull down your pants. He let out a small dark chuckle, matching underwear. Yeah, you were asking for this. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties and slid them off your legs. The sight of you elicited another sinister laugh from him. You were soaking wet, even in your unconscious state your body begged for him.
He pulled his hands off of you and began removing his trench coat, next his sweater vest and collared shirt. He unbuckled his belt, letting it hit the floor with a loud thud. He slid his boxers off of his hips and let them fall over his discarded pants.
He stroked himself absentmindedly as he studied your naked body. He wished he had a polaroid camera so he could save this moment forever. He wanted to ravage you, claim you. Then it occurred to him that it would only be fair to make you cum if he was going to destroy you.
He slid himself down the length of your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. His hot breath tickled your pussy. He took your clit in his mouth, his tongue flicking it rapidly. He moaned into your pussy, you tasted so fucking good. He wished that you were awake so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. He slid his index and middle finger inside of you, pumping roughly into you.
He felt your walls tighten around his fingers, your wetness dripping out of you. He worked you with a steady rhythm, savoring the delicious wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you.
He sucked your clit furiously, his fingers fucking you with a brutal intensity. Your pussy began to spasm around his fingers, he knew you were close. He kept at his pace, wanting to push you to orgasm.
“That’s it, baby, cum for me.”
You began to pulse around his fingers, a small moan escaped your lips. He reveled in your orgasm. His cock leaked precum and twitched wildly. Nothing had ever gotten him this aroused.
He got up, dragging you head first to the edge of the bed, tilting your head back. He swiped his finger on your tongue, feeling the warmth of your mouth. He angled his cock to your lips and shoved himself down your throat.
He fucked your mouth aggressively, panting and swearing. You looked so pretty with his cock in your throat. He bucked his hips into your face, holding a hand to your neck, feeling his cock bulge in your throat.
He felt himself getting close, and pulled out. His breathing was ragged. He took a moment to collect himself before picking you up and laying you back down with your head on the pillow.
He climbed on top of you and kissed you deeply, hands fondling your breasts. He aligned his cock with your entrance and with a loud groan forced himself into you all the way to the hilt. The way your pussy gripped his cock was perfect.
-
Your eyes fluttered open, all you could see from the dim light of the bedside table lamp was a figure moving on top of you. As your eyes adjusted and you started to come back to reality it hit you just what was happening and who it was.
“FORD WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
“Oh, you’re awake. I’m sorry but you passed out and you just looked so perfect that I had to have you.”
You desperately tried to free yourself from underneath him, you clawed at his arms. He took your wrists in his hands and pinned them down above your head.
“Don’t- ah, don’t struggle. I promise I’ll make you feel good.”
“Ford, stop. Please.” You cried.
“I can’t, nngh, you feel too good.”
He fucked you hard, pumping his thick cock into you. The slick, wet sounds filling the room. He forced his lips on yours and moaned into your mouth, his tongue shoving its way to the back of your throat.
You wrestled yourself out of his grip and pushed him off of you. You scrambled off of the bed and ran for your life for the door, but Ford was faster. He tackled you and pinned you to the floor.
“Baby please don’t make this, ugh, harder than it has to be.” He whispered into your ear as you fought back against him.
He pulled you to your feet and shoved you back down on the bed, pinning your wrists once more. He was going to finish what he started. He violently forced himself into you again, his rhythm punishing. He groaned loudly and bit your neck, you whimpered. His cock twitching at the noise.
He stopped for a second, reaching into the bedside drawer and pulled out a pair of handcuffs that he had stolen off a cop during a night of possession by Bill. He cuffed your hands above your head. His hand now free to travel south, making its way to your clit. He drew circles with his fingers while continuing to brutally fuck you, causing your pussy clench around his cock. The pleasure was indescribable, god he loved it.
You tried to struggle again, but Ford held you down by the waist with his free hand. His breathing quickened, he was close, you were too. He pounded you into the mattress, the bed frame shaking.
“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum, I need you to cum around my cock.”
His fingers didn’t let up, you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. You bit into his into his shoulder and felt the skin break, the sickly metallic taste of blood flooding your mouth. That was enough to send Ford over, he cocked his head back and his moan echoed throughout the shack. You cried out as you came, tears welling in your eyes.
Ford shuddered and panted, he was spent. He rolled off of you and collapsed beside you. You laid there, shaking and crying. Ford took your face in his hand, wiping away the tears with his thumb.
“Shh shh shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He cooed. “Let me get those cuffs off of you.”
With a click of the little key your hands were released. You thought about using this as an opportunity to run, but you felt frozen. He kissed you lazily on your lips and neck, then he pulled you against his chest. His big calloused hands stroked your back. You felt strangely comforted, safe almost. You had always wanted this, to be wrapped in Ford’s arms.
Ford had desired you for so long, and now that he finally had you he wasn’t going to let you go.
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Deku’s Type!
Masterlist
Tags: 18+, Sfw-ish, short drabble, fem!reader, aged up! characters, teacher! Deku, kinda vulgar and fucky, im gonna tag misogyny, reader is implied to be “fucked in the head” whatever you want that to mean ^0^!
The boys gather round for drinks and discuss the type of women Deku seems to be fond of, much to his dismay…
“Sounds like Deku’s type,” Katsuki says, smirk in his voice.
Izuku frowns. “I do not have a type.”
Now that makes the table still for a second, not long enough for Izuku to predict the thoughts of his friends, but enough for the rest of the guys to come to the same conclusion.
Katsuki, Denki and Sero are the first to burst out in laughter. Katsuki’s rambunctious cackle the loudest of them all.
“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Katsuki laughs so hard he doesn’t even care that Denki is half laid over him, “You don’t see that shit?”
“Come on…” Denki says, still slapping Katsuki’s thigh as he laughs. “you have such a type!”
Izuku frowns, sterner, deciding to ignore the immature three and turning to his other friends for support. Both Iida and Shouto look away, their expressions telling.
“I do not have a type,” Izuku reiterates, firmly.
Katsuki shakes his head, finally shoving Denki off him. “All those girls you’ve dated? Exact fuckin’ same.”
Even Tokoyami turns his head, eyes never leaving his drink but a twinkle of unfamiliar mirth evident within them.
“What does that even mean?!” Izuku exasperates, looking around for a single ally.
“It means,” Mineta chimes in, and although Izuku enjoys his company, he already knows he’s about to hear something deplorable, “you like them sick in the head!”
Shouto can’t hold in his sputter, finally contributing to the conversation— with a laugh. The rest of the table is hooting, a few groans at the wording but nothing at the sentiment. All while Izuku looks absolutely scandalised, clutching his chest, eyes wide open.
“That’s horrible!” Izuku cries, so stunned he can’t even trail off into one of his signature rambles in defence, “that’s- that’s. What?!”
“All the girls you’ve liked man…” Sero starts. “They’re not exactly little miss sunshines are they.” He stops, which Izuku almost takes reprieve in until he continues, “you seem to like them a little off putting.”
“Yeah so he can fucking fix them.” Katsuki snorts.
“It’s your saviour complex.” Denki adds, chin tilted up, trying to look profound.
Izuku is quick to interject, waving his hands around. “You’re the pro heroes.” The poor boy tries his best to convince. “We all have saviour complexes!”
“Not like you do, mon chéri,” Aoyama tuts, then winks before saying, “Hero of Japan.”
“Izuku, They do still call you an honorary pro.” Shouto is trying to be nice, Izuku thinks. “And I’m sure your students think the same.”
Izuku grimaces, he knows he’s always had a complex that encompassed so much more than just his dreams to be a hero, but he doesn’t need it sullied by… that.
“Don’t ruminate.” Katsuki presses a drink into Izuku’s hands. “You like women a little fucked up, so what.”
Katsuki’s words do nothing to comfort Izuku, instead it has Denki and Mineta laughing all over again while Kirishima attempts to calm them down. Iida scolds Katsuki a little, doing a half bow in apology to the passing waiter clearly peeved by all the noise. Deku pays no attention, beginning to spiral in his head.
It feels wrong to view you that way. To view the women he’s loved that way. But he’s not an idiot, maybe a little blind at times but now that the proof is there— oh god—
“Listen, Midoriya, I am sure there are many reasons you have loved the women you have.” Iida notices the growing dread upon Izuku’s face. “You also like to save people. There is nothing wrong with that.”
Tokoyami and Shouji nod in agreement, Ojiro giving his own sympathetic smile.
“Yeah bro.” Kirishima raises a fist in camaraderie, though it’s definitely out of pity. “It’s manly to want to care for others.”
“Think he more than cares for ‘em,” Katsuki slickly adds, in an artful voice that Izuku is more that familiar with, “the fucker get off on that shit.”
This time, it’s Shouto who scolds him, Katsuki’s implications clear enough for even him to catch on. They rest of the guys begin to bicker in the background, one half in defence of Izuku’s less than innocent tastes in women, the other intent on making fun of the golden boy for once.
Though the attention is finally off him, it does not help Izuku feel any better.
Because there’s a thought that lingers… it’s a sick thought, a terrible, horrible, awfully honest thought.
Shit, he does like them a bit fucked up.
My truth is i still don’t know how to punctuate dialogue… pleek don’t look and none of dat…
Anyways I kind of wanna elaborate on Deku’s hero complex coming out in other ways in the 8 years of studying and becoming a teacher, like someone has to deal with it…
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Camp Wiegman-Part 74
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
Alternative Universe: Military School
Words: 5K
Masterlist
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Friday, March 25th; 9:15 a.m. - Camp Wiegman
I arrive in the common room where a large number of students have gathered. The head teachers and some instructors, including Lucy, have been called to a big meeting. The students are saying it’s about yesterday’s scandal, as several of them, myself included, suffered from indigestion. I’ll ask Lucy if that’s true. They were smart about it; they scheduled it for 9 a.m. to make sure we couldn’t leave before noon. So, we have an hour of free time. I spot Alexia sitting on the couch, chatting with a guy I don’t know. I’m glad she’s here too. We didn’t know which class would be freed due to the meeting. I walk over to them with my friends. I wanted to use this break to catch up on the form we had to fill out for the trip. The others assured me I didn’t miss much. They were bored to death, especially Leah, who was left alone because of me. The good thing is they’re going to give me their notes to help me fill out the questionnaire. I want to show my teacher I’m capable of working. Especially since he’s developed a kind of disdain for me recently. He didn’t even check on me yesterday or say I didn’t need to turn in my work. Well, according to Alessia, the questions were simple, and she thinks I wouldn’t have had any trouble answering them if I’d gone on the trip.
"Hey," I greet Ale.
"Oh, you’re here too!" she exclaims, hugging me. "How are you feeling?"
"Still the same as this morning," I joke.
Alexia was really worried when she found out I was one of the affected students. Fortunately, I was just sick yesterday. This morning feels like yesterday never happened. Of course, I skipped the hot chocolate today. It’ll take me some time before I can drink it again, but for now, I’m sticking to orange juice.
"Can you lend me your notes, Alessia?" I ask my friend, who’s now sitting on my other side.
"Oh, forget about school for a bit! You’re with us for once!" Ale scolds me.
"Alright, alright," I laugh. "You sound just like Lucy."
"She scolds you too?" Leah teases from the couch across from us.
"Yeah," I groan, stretching. "She dragged me out all weekend to make me stop. According to her, I always find something to obsess over when I’m stressed."
"She’s not wrong. Speaking of stress, have you heard back from the galleries?"
"It’s better not to talk about frustrating things right now..." Alessia comments on my behalf.
I cross my arms, feeling a bit down. I’ve gotten a few rejections this week, which I shared with Alessia. She also loves art and is happy that I’m pursuing it. She doesn’t have the same courage as me, though, since she plans to stick with administration to secure her future. I have to admit I’m starting to feel anxious about the feedback. Maybe I’ll have to do the same as her. There’s no way I’m staying home doing nothing, though.
"Don’t worry. I heard Mapi’s coming this weekend. That’s cool; she’ll be able to cheer you up."
I raise an eyebrow.
"What do you mean, Mapi’s coming?"
"Uh... You didn’t know? I called Jenni after class. Lucy told her this morning that she’s coming."
"Lucy?!"
This news catches me off guard. How is it that she knew before me that my best friend is coming? And even if that’s the case, why didn’t she just tell me? Alexia feels bad about my reaction.
"Maybe it was supposed to be a surprise...? Crap. I probably shouldn’t have told you! Lucy’s going to kill me! Can you pretend you don’t know?"
I smile despite myself and shake my head. Maybe she’s right. I hope so, honestly.
"What are you offering for my silence?" I tease, amused.
She playfully hits my arm, and our friends laugh. It’s so easy to tease her. I laugh too, but I’m glad she’s getting along better with my girlfriend. Suddenly, I start thinking about Mapi. It’s not surprising I wasn’t informed by her; I’ve been out of the loop, buried in my studies. Maybe she did message me, and I missed it. That would be more worrying. I already feel bad just thinking about it.
"So, what are we doing? Besides catching up on boring school stuff, of course."
"Hey. Calm down, will you?"
"Nope. By the way, Alba’s meeting Jenni next weekend. She’ll probably stop by the gym."
"Really? Where is she anyway?" I ask, glancing around.
"Probably with her girlfriend somewhere. I haven’t seen her since we got let out."
I chuckle, imagining exactly where they must be. Normally, we’re not allowed to have «intimate relationship », but with the supervision lightened, now’s probably the perfect time.
"I see. So, she’s stuck in for the weekend?"
"Yeah. Misa’s staying with her. That’s why we’re doing it next weekend. She’s excited to meet her..."
"I bet. How did Jenni take it?"
"She doesn’t know yet. Don’t say anything, though. I’m planning to break it to her gently this weekend..."
I laugh heartily. I’d pay to see her face when she tells her. I think she’s going to be totally shocked. Alexia explained to me that her only fear is that her sister won’t accept her, which would strain their relationship. I understand that. The opinion of someone close to you carries a lot of weight. I’ve been a victim of that between Lucy and Mapi myself.
"And why are you introducing them at their gym? Is there no other place?"
"What’s ‘their gym'?" Leah asks.
"Oh, uh... You don’t know."
"You’re not allowed to talk about it, are you?" she teases.
We glance at each other, and I shrug. I’m not sure, actually. Lucy hasn’t mentioned anything, but I don’t think she wants the students to know it’s her last year.
"Sorry, Leah," I simply say.
She shrugs indifferently. She doesn’t seem upset, so it’s fine.
"Anyway, so?"
"Well, I figured it’d be a neutral place. Plus, she’ll see that she has ambitious plans and that she’s not irresponsible."
"Hmm, hmm," I tease.
"What? You don’t think it’s a good idea?"
"I just wonder if you’re not trying to convince yourself..." I giggle.
"A little..." she admits. "Plus, I figured you guys would be there just in case..."
"Oh no, I’m stopping you right there. Lucy’s already told me she doesn’t want to be there when it happens."
"Oh no," she pouts. "Don’t tell me that."
"I swear. I didn’t even have to ask. She brought it up herself, and I don’t think it’s negotiable. She keeps saying she doesn’t want to see any of my friends from here before the end of the year. I’m sorry..."
"What if I organize a party?" Leah suggests. "It would kill two birds with one stone since I’d like to see her outside of here."
I grimace a little. She doesn’t realize I’m going to get scolded again if I keep pushing.
"That could be fun, being all together," Alessia agrees.
"You guys are unbelievable. You really can’t wait a month and a half?"
"Tell that to Alba," Alexia retorts. "She’s the one trying so hard to bring the events closer."
I sigh, running a hand through my hair.
"When would this party be?" I give in.
"In three weeks," Leah tells me. "My parents will be going away for the weekend with some friends. We figured it’d be the perfect time to throw another party. Plus, it’s right before the holidays."
Alessia nods beside her, confirming what Leah just said.
"OK…" I mutter. "I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise anything. Lucy can be really stubborn when she wants to be."
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!" Ale replies excitedly.
She kisses my cheek several times before letting me go. Meanwhile, I keep glancing at every door that opens, hoping Lucy will walk through. We don’t know how long the meeting will last, but I’m optimistic. I smile when I see it’s not my girlfriend, but Ingrid. I interrupt Ale and Leah’s conversation, where my roommate is asking if it’s okay for her girlfriend to come, since she’s now planning to delay the meeting between her and her sister until then.
"I’ll be right back," I say as I stand up.
Alexia watches me, confused, until she spots Ingrid.
"Oh no. Please don’t tell her you know about Mapi. I’ll get in trouble again!"
I laugh and wave her off. Whether she likes it or not, I’m definitely going to question Ingrid, who’s probably the first to know what’s going on. I approach her, and she spots me right away, greeting me with a smile.
"What brings you here, Ona?"
"Hey, how are you?"
"Good, and you?"
"Good too. Is Lucy still in the meeting?"
"Yep. You probably won’t see her all morning. She’s got a meeting with Wiegman right after."
A lightbulb goes off in my head. Damn! I completely forgot about that! She had told me earlier in the week that she scheduled a meeting with her to resign. Ingrid laughs, clearly noticing that I just remembered.
"I’m such an idiot."
"If you say so," she teases.
I bite my lip. I wish I could’ve said something to encourage her, but now it’s too late.
"Don’t stress about it. She won’t hold it against you. She knows you’ve got a lot on your mind. And you weren’t feeling well yesterday either."
I nod. It doesn’t erase the guilt I feel, though. I’ll try to make up for it this weekend. In the meantime, I remember why I’m here in the first place.
"I heard Mapi is coming."
"Did Alexia spill the beans?"
"Was it supposed to be a surprise?"
"Oh no. Mapi’s tried texting you several times this week, but none of the messages got through. She thinks your phone’s off. Lucy wanted to tell you yesterday, but you weren’t feeling well."
I groan, realizing what’s happened. I feel really bad now. My phone must be off since I haven’t used it since Monday.
"At least you found out she’s coming before we go pick her up, so it’s not too bad."
I scowl as she clearly makes fun of me. Well, I deserve it. At least she doesn’t beat around the bush when telling me things.
"So, we’re going together to pick her up?"
"Yep. Lucy suggested we all have lunch together after we pick her up."
I nod, grateful she’s taken the initiative without needing my input. Damn, I really need to make up for all of this this weekend.
"OK… Thanks."
"No problem."
I can tell she finds this situation amusing. With an embarrassed smile, I turn back to my friends. Hopefully, once I apologize to everyone, I won’t feel as foolish.
Friday, March 25; 12:15 PM - Camp Wiegman.
I was waiting for Lucy outside the school, like we usually do. I had already seen Ingrid’s car pass by, so I figured Lucy would be next, and sure enough, her car pulls into the parking lot. She parks in the open spot right in front of me. I have so many things to tell her, I don’t even know where to start. I put my suitcase in the trunk and join her in the front seat.
"Hey."
"Hi."
I lose my smile when I see the serious look on her face.
"Is something wrong?"
"Get in. It’s windy."
I do as she says, closing the door behind me. The bad weather has passed, and we’ve got sunshine, but a cool breeze has followed it.
"What’s going on?" I ask, seeing her stare straight ahead.
I don’t like seeing her like this. Luckily, she’s not one to beat around the bush with me.
"Wiegman knows."
My heart skips a beat at this unexpected news. Then it starts racing, and I can’t calm it down. No, this can’t be happening. Not now, not when my exams are in a month. Not after all the effort I’ve put in. Tears well up in my eyes. I blink to get rid of them, but it’s no use.
"Is it…? H-how? This is crazy!"
"Hey, hey," she says, noticing my state. "Calm down. It’s not as bad as you think."
She takes my hands and kisses them, one by one. Her calmness manages to soothe me, even though I still don’t know how things aren’t as bad as she says.
"How did she find out?"
"Your management professor… He saw me kiss you yesterday while you were still asleep. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was planning to this weekend."
"He… That jerk!" I fume. "Did you talk to him?"
"No, I didn’t get the chance. What caught me off guard was that he reported us to Wiegman before I could even do that."
"And Wiegman!? Did she believe him? Just like that? Without letting us explain ourselves?"
"Calm down, baby. No. She asked for my side of the story… I didn’t want to lie, especially when I had my resignation letter in my hand."
I must look shocked. She didn’t do that, did she?
"Stop panicking. Neither of us is getting expelled," she tells me.
"Wait—we’re not…?"
A small smile appears on her face. I remember her first expression. She must have been just as angry as I am. Now she looks like she’s teasing me. How can she? Our principal knows! Shouldn’t we be packing up and getting out of here? That’s what happened to Jenni!
"Given the circumstances, no, I’m not."
"Are you going to explain?"
She chuckles softly, still holding my hands in hers. I don’t find this funny. She dropped this bombshell on me and is now laughing about it. It’s hard to understand.
"We had a long discussion. I spent nearly two hours in her office. When she brought it up, I didn’t know what to do, but I decided to be honest, and it looks like that paid off."
"We’re really not getting expelled?"
"No. I think the fact that you’re your mother’s daughter helped a lot."
I relax, and for the first time in my life, I’m grateful to be her daughter.
"I confirmed our relationship, but I also explained all the good I’ve brought to you. I told her about how hard you’re working to pass your exam, your progress, and your future plans.
- And what did she say?
- She was hesitant at first, until I showed her the pile of exercises you gave me to correct. She realized that our relationship is serious and that it’s helping you.
- Of course! And that’s it?
- Sort of. I told her that if she has to expel someone, she should only expel me, and I handed her my resignation letter. I didn’t want her to ruin your future over this.
- But I thought...
- I’m not expelled, Ona. Let me finish.
- Sorry, I said, blushing.
She’s talking a lot without getting to the point, but I can tell my impatience is amusing her.
- She initially thought I was giving her my resignation because of this, but I told her about my plans to open a gym. Thanks to our evening classes and Ingrid’s testimony, she recognized my professionalism and honesty. She didn’t want to destroy your efforts or our future, so… she’s cutting us some slack. I’ll remain your supervisor until the end.
- So… Wiegman knows, and we’re not expelled…?
I mutter the words, struggling to comprehend them. It feels so surreal.
- It’s not without consequences. She’s going to talk to your professor to make him drop the idea. As for us, we need to stay discreet. If anyone else sees us together and reports it, she won’t be able to protect us, and both our futures will be at risk. Do you understand?
I nod, feeling completely lost. Wow. I never saw this coming. It’s insane.
- Then why did you look so serious earlier? You scared me!
- Sorry. I don’t know. Shocked and angry, I guess. I’m having a hard time processing it too. I always imagined I’d be leaving the day she found out.
- Well, that’s not happening. Isn’t this good news?
- Oh, definitely.
- I suppose I should forget the question I was going to ask you...
- What question? she asks curiously.
- Leah invited us to a party she’s throwing with everyone. Alexia wants us to come because she’s planning to introduce Jenni to Alba.
I quickly explain while playing with her fingers. I knew it would be complicated, but it’s even more so now.
- You know we’ve had this conversation before, Lucy begins, tilting my chin up.
- I know. It’s the others who pressured me...
- I know it’s complicated for you, but we need to stay discreet a little longer. After that, I promise we can shout our love for each other to anyone.
- And go out with my friends?
She rolls her eyes with a small smile. At first, I could tell this situation suited her. I mean, it must be strange for her too, hanging out with people who were once her students.
- Yes, sweetheart. We can go out with your friends. I’d do anything for you.
I kiss her tenderly at this admission. She’s a sweetheart.
- We need to go. Ingrid’s probably waiting for us, she murmurs between kisses.
I pull away and buckle up at the mention.
- Yeah, I heard Mapi’s coming this morning...
- That’s right. Ingrid told me how upset you were about it, she chuckles, placing a hand on my thigh as she starts the car. I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I completely forgot because of your condition.
- It’s my fault too. I’ve been so out of it...
- Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re allowed to work hard during the week, she unexpectedly defends me. Mapi will understand.
- Hmm...
- If it helps, I gave her updates on your behalf.
- Really? I asked, surprised.
- Well, yes. She worries when you don’t reply, so she comes to me.
- Thanks.
- You don’t have to thank me for that. She’s your best friend.
- Yes, but it’s not like you’re her biggest fan, I chuckled.
She rolls her eyes in amusement.
- True, she mutters. But you’d be surprised what we could do together for you.
I smile at the thought. I think she’s right. Even if they don’t exactly get along, they’d tolerate each other for my sake. We finally arrive at Ingrid’s place to pick her up. I offered to let her sit up front, but she insisted I stay there. Next stop: the airport. Our chat with Lucy made us late, so by the time we get there, Mapi is already waiting with her suitcase. She greets us one by one, finishing, of course, with Ingrid, whom she can’t stop kissing.
- Couldn’t resist coming, huh? I teased.
- Nope, not really. I’m taking the opportunity to bring some things over and see you both, since I heard you won’t be around for the next holidays.
- That’s true, I admit with a shy smile. Sorry about that.
Lucy pulls me into a hug when she notices how I feel. It’s a fair complaint. I didn’t handle these holidays, but I do know Lucy booked our tickets—and Jenni and Alexia’s—this week.
- It’s okay, I’m just teasing. Your girlfriend defended you enough for me to forgive you, she says, giving me a little hug.
I really need to thank Lucy for that. Usually, Mapi holds grudges much longer. Finally, we head to the restaurant. We’re all starving. Our girlfriends take us to a place I haven’t been before. Mapi seems in good spirits, chatting non-stop about her plans to move here after the school year. Her doubts are far behind her now. She hasn’t heard from her parents in a long time either. She confided that she thinks it’s time to cut ties with them for good. I can only support her in that. I’ve met them once, but they were never really around due to their work. When they did talk to their daughter, it was mostly to criticize her or try to convince her to change her mind about taking over the family business. In that kind of situation, there’s no point in staying in contact. I really admire Mapi’s courage. Even though my mom and I were estranged for a long time, I don’t know if I’d have the guts to do the same. I’m very tied to family, especially because of the promises I made to my dad. Plus, if Mapi were in my situation, I doubt her parents would have offered the help my mom gave me last year. I can blame my mom for a lot of things, but not that, and it’s why I decided to reconnect with her.
- I ran into Abby this week while grocery shopping, Mapi tells me.
- Really? I say, not looking up from the menu.
I’m thinking of getting a burger. I saw one go by, and it looked delicious. Our drinks arrive within minutes. The service seems fast, which is good because I’m starving.
- She told me about the wedding... Is that why you reacted so strongly the last time she visited?
- Not really. There were a lot of things that set me off.
- I’m not going to force you to talk about it, but I think Abby believes you don’t want to come. You should give her a call if you plan on going. That’s all she’s waiting for.
- Do you know the date? She didn’t have time to tell us, Lucy asks.
- Uh, I don’t remember exactly. I think it’s in June.
So soon? I must have shown my surprise because she gives me a sympathetic smile.
- Well, I guess you should call her today, huh? Lucy advises, rubbing my thigh to comfort me.
In just two months, my mom will marry another man. I’m struggling to process it. Everything must have been planned behind my back for months. Lucy kisses my temple, and the conversation moves on. I have trouble following. It’s like my mom was waiting for me to finish school so I could attend the wedding. It warms my heart, in a way. She’s hoping I’ll be there, despite everything that’s happened between us.
We’ll talk more about it when we get home, if you want, Lucy whispers in my ear. »
I nod and snuggle up to her on the bench we're sharing. I'm not sure if it will be necessary, but it always feels good to confide in her. Meanwhile, Mapi keeps talking about how hard she's been working lately. Looks like I'm not the only one pushing myself for this final stretch. The only difference is that she manages to juggle her two lives without anyone saying anything to her. I think I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed, too. It's not easy to catch up on everything I've missed. But I’m going to hang in there. I'm almost there.
Friday, March 25th; 10:15 PM - Ona and Lucy’s Apartment
We’ve just come home for the first time today. I’m glad to be back in our place. The atmosphere immediately puts me at ease. We spent the day with the girls, in town, then at the gym later in the afternoon where Jenni, Alexia, and Beth were still working, preparing to receive the first pieces of furniture in two weeks. Then, it’ll finally be vacation time. I sigh as I settle next to my girlfriend on the couch.
- “Relieved to be home?”
- “Oh yes!” I reply. “It’s good to relax too.”
- “Definitely.”
I sigh contentedly as my head falls onto her lap. Lucy immediately starts running her fingers through my hair. I close my eyes to enjoy the moment to the fullest.
- “Do you want to call your mom?”
- “Oh no,” I groan. “Not tonight. I’ll do it tomorrow, when I can take my time.”
I lay on my side, placing my hand on her thigh. It’s a pretty comfortable position. Lucy is sitting with her feet stretched out on the other side of the couch, facing the TV. She flips through the channels before settling on some random series I’m not really paying attention to.
- “Are you feeling good about going to your mom’s wedding?”
I nod, lifting my head to look at Lucy. She’s watching me intently. She’s always so worried about me, and it’s adorable.
- “She wants us there, so we’ll be there.”
- “Alright…”
- “Shouldn't we be thinking about our next vacation instead?” I ask.
- “If you want. I didn’t tell you, but… I booked a ticket to land in Lisbon.”
- “What? How come?”
- “Well, since we’re already going to Portugal, I thought we might as well visit the city where you grew up and where your dad is buried.”
- “That’s amazing! Thank you so much.”
- “It’s no big deal,” she smiles.
- “How long will we stay? I guess you’ve already planned everything?”
She laughs and nods.
- “We’ll arrive in Porto around the same time as Jenni and Alexia, for about a week.”
- “You’re so sweet, always thinking of me.”
- “I know,” she jokes. “Do you have any family we could stay with?”
- “Of course. My grandfather.”
- “Oh, right. The one you like so much, right?”
- “Yes! I can’t wait for you to meet him! I’ll let him know as soon as I can. He’s going to be so happy.”
I sit up and straddle her to show my gratitude with a big hug.
- “Thank you, really. I love you so much.”
- “I love you too, my love.”
We kiss tenderly before I rest my head on her shoulder.
- “Are you sure your parents are going to like me?”
She laughs, running her hand through my hair, sending shivers down my spine. It’s a fear that haunts me. I’m afraid they won’t accept me, and that Lucy might leave me because of it. When I lift my head again, she looks at me with adoration, her eyes filled with all the love she has for me.
- “I promise they will.”
- “You seem really sure of that…”
- “Stop worrying about it. They’re going to love you. They’re actually really excited to meet you.”
- “Really…? You’ve already told them about me?”
- “Of course. I’ve had plenty of chances to call them from school and talk about you. They know you exist and that we’re coming in a few weeks. They also know you were my student at school, why you were there, but most importantly, they know how much I love you.”
- “Y-you told them everything!? Oh my God!”
I try to pull away, but Lucy holds me back with a small laugh. There’s nothing funny about this! How could she tell her parents that I was a former junkie who ran away with my ex to ruin my life?
- “Calm down. I did it to save you from a bunch of awkward questions. I wanted to tell them myself so they’d know what to expect. Mostly, I wanted them to understand how much you mean to me and that they’d better not traumatize you. Well, at least not my dad. He’s a saint compared to my mom.”
- “Fantastic,” I say sarcastically.
Lucy smiles and presses her lips to mine.
- “I promise you don’t have to worry. And how about we head to bed now, huh? We’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow, again.”
- “OK…” I murmur. “Speaking of tomorrow, I made a few sketches for the walls of the rooms you guys want me to decorate.”
- “Oh, really? I won’t ask when you found time to do that.”
- “In my room,” I reply. “Who do you think I am? I’ve become responsible!”
I squeal as she lifts me up, turning off the TV in the process. The way she carries me to our bedroom brings back so many memories.
- “Of course, my love. We’ll take a look at them in the morning. Right now, it’s time for bed.”
I smile, snuggling back against her shoulder. I’m not going to argue with that.
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Father had personally asked Feanor to stand for this portrait, so he was. Father had quietly suggested that perhaps this could be a painless exercise, which did not actually mean ‘painless’ but rather ‘silent’ for Feanor, but he agreed. Father told him this painting did not symbolize anything but his own desire to have a record of all his available loved ones around him, and Feanor was trying to see it that way- for the sake of his own sanity.
Because his stomach was roiling, and there was a heaviness in his chest, a great emptiness which his heart was pounding against, echoing, echoing, echoing.
Father had one hand on Feanor’s shoulder and the other was upon Indis’s. She was sat in front of them, smiling beautifully, little golden-haired Arafinwe in her lap. Around them, her three dark-haired children were gathered. Findis on Father’s other side, Nolofinwe with her, and Lalwen in front of Feanor.
To the unaware eye, Feanor knew, they must all look like they matched. Like they went together correctly. Like a family.
When the portrait was complete and those dark haired children were gathered around the mother and father, who would guess that one child was out of place? Who might glance at all that paint representing their faces and think anything but-
You could almost be her son, Feanor thought, and then his mind replied, But you’re not.
He was so still and he dared not move, because if he did, he’d never get back in place. If Feanor flinched once, the sharp, jagged pieces of him that never fit right in this puzzle would scratch one of them. They’d be annoyed and that would be it: he’d combust in anger, he’d shatter across the floor, snapping and snarling at everyone unnecessarily until he ruined their perfect little scene. Father said this might be a painless exercise. No, no; this was to be a silent, still exercise.
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
How good a painter was this person Father hired? How varied his faces? Would he capture that Feanor’s nose resembled that of none of the people here? Could he represent that his frame was already different from his father and little half-brother’s?
Would he lie and throw a pleased smile on Feanor’s face? Not even Father had asked him to smile.
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
Feanor’s presence made them fit together so symmetrically, maybe that was pleasing enough to hide the wrongness of this scene. Maybe that’s why Father made him come here today, the pretty scene. Why he asked him to suffer, even as the longer he stood here, the more and more Feanor felt like he was about to be sick all over the floor.
A ghost, a ghost, there was a ghost looming over their shoulders ruining this perfectly symmetrical scene. Couldn’t they feel her breathing down their necks, icy chill against sweat? Didn’t their perfectly posed heads feel her long, clever fingers wrapped lovingly around their necks?
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
Feanor’s gaze slipped down to the back of Indis’s head. Her beautiful golden hair. She didn’t wear a crown, this was a family portrait, and that felt worse. So much worse.
If he let his eyes unfocus and his mind wander, he could try to lie to himself that her hair was much lighter and the faces of the children around them more closely resembled his own. The woman in front of him loved him, and she fussed over his hair before they sat for this portrait, and he’d let her do it.
The worst part was Feanor did know that Indis would help him with the ties of his robes, if only he let her.
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
She’s not, she’s not, she’s not. It was a simple statement of fact. It was scandal enough that the father replaced the wife, when one at least chose a wife, but what freak replaced his own mother?
What would the people who saw this portrait think? Would they see Finwe’s happy family or would they see Feanor’s blaring, uncomfortable intrusion upon what gods and men declared to be a better order of things? Father wanted him to belong here, but he didn’t.
He just didn’t.
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
A painless exercise. Painless, painless, painless, for them. Silent, still Feanor, a happy accessory to the triumphant union of Finwe and Indis, a grateful stray dog permitted to drink from the bowls provided by Indis’s family.
This exercise was just meant to capture the image of all Finwe loved, nothing more. Don’t think too hard about it, Feanor. You might make the children unhappy.
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
You should pretend you are, though. That’ll make them like you.
Because they did so disdain him, most of the time. They disliked how he glared at their mother and started fights at family dinners and ignored them in the hallways. Why shouldn’t they? Feanor would hate a person who did those things to his family, too.
He just couldn’t stop, though. He wanted to, sometimes, when the exhaustion and loneliness caught up, and then he remembered that he wasn’t Indis’s son and never would be, and remembering that made him angry. Wouldn’t it just be so damn convenient for them all if he was almost her son?
But he wasn’t.
He was Miriel’s son. That was her name. He had no portrait with her. He loved her.
He loved Miriel, but it was Indis he posed with and-
When the session was done, Feanor jerked away from his father and shoved his way past Lalwen. As he went, Indis looked up at him, caught his eye, and he couldn’t help the sneer that crossed his face.
He hoped that was painless enough for her.
When he returned to his chamber, he went to the wash room and heaved in the pot there. The gagging and retching made wetness prick his eyes, and the sudden tightness of throat made him choke all the harder. The sickness and heaving stayed long past when there was anything in his stomach to lose.
No one came. Feanor hoped maybe Father would, but really, why would he? Feanor had been mostly good, just a little rudeness wasn’t worth either reprimand or comfort.
No, they were together. Maybe admiring their portrait, happy and pleased, or complaining about his behavior again. Really, why couldnt that Curufinwe just accept nice things?
I need to get out of here, Feanor thought, face and body wet with both sweat and tears. I need to leave this place.
He was a good son, and he could do anything else his father wanted but betray his mother further. No, Feanor couldn’t pose as Indis’s son even a second longer. He would destroy himself, if he had to think one more time-
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
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