#i’m going to apply to 4 SCHOOLS and if i don’t get into any of them then i die i guess | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetimpurity · 9 days ago

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I Think I'll Keep You 5

a/n: Thank you again for your patience! I hope you guys enjoy and the next chapter is already underway and will come very soon! And some more art and bots coming out as well so look out for that!

w.c.: 10.2k NSFW MINORS DNI

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

“...accurate and efficient methods of decoding… further aiding us in understanding… um… complicated genetic codes… pushing preservation and conservation. Uhh… yeah.” Miguel sighs, sitting up in his seat and peering over your arm as you type away on his laptop. Sitting at a table in the middle of the library during tutoring hours. Your fingers typing for him as he speaks what he wants written. He can’t type. Not with his right hand totally out of commission. So he’s come to your open tutoring hours. And now you have a student to work on so you can get paid and he can get help with his work. It’s Saturday and the two of you have been practically connected at the hip for the past two days.

You woke up beside him yesterday afternoon after that late night emergency room run. Lazily, sleepily taking the rest of the day slowly. Walking across campus to get food since all you both ate the whole night was a few pieces of candy. Smiling and talking, shoes splashing in shallow puddles along the concrete. A refreshing feeling having moved on from the mess of the last few weeks. The bubble has popped. That bubble of sex and ignorance that felt so great for the both of you. Sitting in the dining hall, among the hardwood and tall, ancient windows of your old university; looking over the school grounds turned fall shades and the autumn breeze blowing in through the window. Trying to talk about anything that won’t add any more stress or tension. No talk of friends, or family, not even school. Really just talking about whatever comes into your mind. And the conversation is just so easy. It’s different to spend time with him outside of the dorm room. It didn’t happen very often before. A lot of your conversations were pillowtalk. It’s different talking about the other parts of your life that don’t take place right after doing the deed. Miguel is funny. And he’s a good listener when his mind is clear and he’s focused on you. Only you.

Feels like things are going back to normal. Well not how it was before. A new normal.

“I think it sounds good… it’s a little awkward in the intro still but we can fix it up later…” You assure him, fixing a few typos and reading it over. The library is nice and quiet as always. You didn’t have any other students come this afternoon so you have time to focus on this and help Miguel since you know he can’t really do it himself right now.

“I don’t know… feels like I’m missing something. I’m gonna include the research but it doesn't feel like enough.” He sighs, leaning his elbows on the table, pushing his frames further up the bridge of his nose and looking over the notes in his hand. His knee is bouncing under the table and you can feel the vibrations of it in your seat. He’s applying to the Alchemax grant program. A huge grant with a long essay to go with it, multiple letters of recommendation and a personal profile piece. Tens of thousands of dollars for his research project. And he’d basically be an intern there. Able to use their facilities and labs to complete the job and create a brand new study of his own. It would start right after graduation and almost definitely lead to a great job at Alchemax Industries. He sighs, leaning back in his seat, draping his arm over the back of your chair.

“You okay?” You hum, observing his clearly distressed behavior. His knee bouncing, his brow furrowed, the sighs. He looks over at you, in your eyes. Don’t lie. “Yeah I’m fine… just… want to get this right.”

You nod. Knowing that’s not all there is to it. But accepting it for now. “Well, maybe you should include some of your… personality…traits…” You suggest with a small smile, knowing that it will be like pulling teeth with him, clasping your hands in your lap and looking over at him next to you.

“Like what. I mean… Tyler knows me. He’s the one that told me to apply.” [Tyler Stone. President and Ceo of Alchemax Industries.] He sighs, pushing his glasses up on his head, his dark curls becoming a little messy with the metal pushed through them, and rubbing the sides of his nose with his fingers. The ache of wearing his glasses for a while when he usually doesn’t like wearing them at all. But he’s worn them more often the past few days. He can see you more clearly now.

“Yeah but he’s not the only one who’s gonna be working with you or deciding if you get the job or not. You want people to know who you are… know the kind of person you are. More often than not, that’s more important than the research when it comes to something like this. I mean, you’re not just applying for a grant, you’re applying for a job…” You explain kindly. He looks up, in your eyes, his eyes raking over your pretty face. He loves feeling like he can be close to you again. He loves feeling like he knows what’s going on in your head. Or maybe that’s just his need for control seeping in. Like venom in warm blood. Just sitting next to you like this. Even if he hasn’t so much as kissed you since everything went down. It’s only been nearly two weeks but it feels like an eternity. He wants to so badly. But he reminds himself that this is how things are right now. He messed up and he’s getting a second chance. He won’t take your forgiveness for granted. “Yeah, you’re right.” He admits, dropping the graphs and charts on the table.

“Maybe talk about family… inspirations… personal goals. People like that kind of stuff. People also want to know that you can be a part of something bigger than yourself…” You say, fingers brushing over the keys and ready to type what he says. “Uh…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, trying to pull this out of his brain. He doesn’t really want to talk about his family. Doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction of being considered inspiration. But his upbringing and his parents’ names alone have opened a lot of doors for him in the past. His fingers fidget on the back of your chair, catching a few strands of your hair, playing with it so softly that you don’t even feel it. And he watches the side of your face to make sure you don’t notice, your eyes focused on the computer screen. Curling the strands around his finger and getting lost in touching you. Hanging on desperately to this morsel of touch. Knowing he probably shouldn’t but he just can’t help himself.

“I guess… we could say I grew up watching my parents with their business. But that’s more… financial services. When I was born, OLI was just taking off and now… I’ve watched them build it into what it is today.” He explains. You keep typing, writing it down in the notes to keep it straight. You can hear the sigh in his voice like he hates to be talking about it. You don’t know why. Mostly because he’s never spoken about this before. But if he’s applying for such a big opportunity then it’s important to include.

“OLI, I’ve heard of that, I think…” You look over at him, unsure what that stands for but you know you’ve heard that acronym before, or maybe you’ve seen it somewhere?

“O’hara Legacy Investments.” He says with a nod and sigh, a level of disdain in his tone. He leans forward, his mind still on this essay. On beefing it up with info that might secure him this grant. Even though he’s confident his connections will get him in. There’s always a chance things might not go his way. He wants to prepare for every possible outcome. He hates to feel out of control. You stop typing. That sounds like investment banking. Like the kind of thing that makes people billionaires.

“Is that the… that tall building downtown?” You ask, looking over at him and he nods, a blank stare in his eyes as he’s looking down at the research notes. “Your family runs that?”

“Yep.” He sighs, not offering more information so you don’t ask for more.

“Okay sooo… how would that influence your work at Alchemax?” You prompt, trying to veer back on course. You can tell he’s losing steam, you’ve been at this a while.

“So I guess it’s not really the same as what I would be doing at Alchemax but… Watching how that runs… how many people it takes to keep something running like that. I guess something about leading teams of people working towards a goal…” He keeps thinking out loud and you keep typing, interpreting his words into organized notes and ideas. “So.. maybe about you as a leader? You think you can be a good leader…”

“Yeah. I think so… and soccer, we could include that too.” He says, perking up and sitting up a bit straighter. Although the topic of soccer does bring his anxiety levels up a bit. Watching you type while playing with a piece of frayed material on his cast. “Yeah, captain of the soccer team, sports is always something they want to hear. If you’re a leader… organizer. And coming from SU especially, they love to see it.” You agree, typing and compiling the thoughts that come to mind. “And to know you can work in a team…”

Miguel nods. Feeling relieved that you’re able to help him with this. He did all the more technical notes for it over the past few weeks. Organized lots of thoughts and data to start the writing process. Then he broke his fingers and that put a wrench in the process. It’s due next week and without you he’d be screwed. But it works out sort of perfectly, and a little selfishly, that now he’s spending more time with you because of that. “I think also…”

He starts. You look over, ready to type whatever he suggests. “I’m an older brother too… that’s… I don’t know…” He mumbles. You find yourself smiling. “I feel like… maybe being a leader in that way is different.”

“It’s very different, yes…” You nod, looking back at the laptop screen, a smile dancing on your lips. “Maybe something about… protecting… looking out for those that are important to me. Or being a good role model I guess…” He sighs. Thinking. About Gabriel. About you. Pretty much the two most important people in his life. I guess I haven’t been a very good role model as of late.

“Loyalty… role model…” You say and nod. Typing those words in the compilation of notes you’re making in the margins. His knee is still bouncing.

“I also think you’re very passionate…” You say. He looks over at you, the side of your face, watching you type more things in the notes. Trying to create a section of his essay that can portray him as not just another applicant. “I think I’m just generally angry… I don’t really think before I do things…” He scoffs, shaking his head and leaning forward, his arms on the table, his head resting down on his forearms, looking at your pretty face from this angle. You grin and nod, giving him a look. “Yeah but we don’t have to include that… passion works…”

He laughs through his nose, blinking softly and admiring your face. Watching your pretty eyes, the light of the computer screen reflecting in them, making them especially sparkly. It’s quiet for a moment, just the clicks of keys and fingertips. He thinks, reflecting on all that’s happened in the past few weeks. That thing with Dana keeps coming to mind. That was really a moment of lost control. Is that the passion you’re talking about? That he loses control and can’t get it back until it’s almost too late? He worries about that. Not remembering most of it because he was so angry. It sort of feels like a dream. Especially since he fought with you right after that and then everything went right to shit.

All he knows is that Dana made it back to his dorm. He knows for a fact nothing happened. He wouldn’t have wanted it anyway because he despises her and she was drunk off her ass. But she did lie on his bed. Her perfume was all over him. And he remembers standing over her and wanting to make her hate him. Just so that she would leave him alone. That’s a level of anger he never wants you to witness, or anyone really for that matter. It scares him a bit now to think of it. All he knows is that if you think he’s loyal, he’ll be loyal as a dog. If you think he’s passionate, he’ll be a raging, burning fire to keep you warm. You think he’s anything, he’ll be that. If you want him to be.

He fidgets with the fray on his cast. Coming off the blue material. His gaze caught on the little cursive “mine” you wrote. That night in the drug store. When you were both so deliriously tired, sitting in the middle of the floor. Having this on his arm is like a reminder. Or a promise. That maybe you’ll be his or he’ll be yours again. He’ll just have to be patient. His thumb brushes over the word, like making sure the letters won’t fall off, making sure they’re stained into the blue permanently. Do you even remember writing this? He thinks. Or were you so tired it feels like a dream? His bouncing knee still vibrates against your chair.

“Anything else for today? We did a lot…” You ask, looking over at him. Bringing him out of his thoughts. “No, I think that’s good, thank you… but maybe next week we can finalize things and you can help me edit it?” He asks hopefully. “Yeah definitely, I’ll block out some time for you…”

He nods, sighing and pulling his glasses off his head. Folding them up in his hand and collecting his papers. You just save the document, debating in your head the words on your tongue. Closing the laptop so he can pack it up in his bag.

“So… you wanna tell me what’s stressing you out?” You ask, turning in your seat to face him and leaning your elbow on the table, head in your hand. He stops what he’s doing, putting down the stack of notebooks. “You can read my mind…” He smiles.

“No, you’ve just been bouncing your knee against my chair for the past hour.” You sigh, smiling soft but sympathetic at him. His shoulders slump. “Oh sorry…” He shakes his head, feeling embarrassed for being so obvious, pinching the bridge of his nose in his fingers.

“It’s okay… Is it the grant? I think your essay will be good enough…” You hum. Noticing all of his distress and not wanting him to be freaking out over something he’s already spent so long working on. “No it’s not… I… I’m really glad you can help me with it. Thank you… I’m just worried about the game tomorrow…” He nods. And it dawns on you. “Ohh…”

“I actually should get going… have a meeting with the coach. Figure out how we’re gonna pull this off…” He sighs, getting up from his seat to gather his things. He’s been wracked with anxiety about the game ever since putting two and two together that he’s out for the next few weeks. It’s against the rules for someone to play with a plaster cast on and he’s nowhere near getting that removed. So the team will have to supplement him.

“You’re not gonna play are you? You shouldn’t… not with your hand like that.” You insist, watching him get up, pulling on his jacket precariously with his one working hand. He can hear the concern in your voice. “I can’t. It's an instant disqualification… so I have to talk to Coach and maybe I’ll just assistant coach tomorrow, I don’t know…” He sighs, knowing it’ll be a struggle for the team to play without him. And they very well might not win. This is a university proud of its win streak so far.

“If it hurts, let Coach know… you don’t have to do anything that’s uncomfortable.” You advise softly. Wanting him to be comfortable. Always. That look of care on your face makes him feel a little warm. Making him feel a little soft and fuzzy inside. He can’t remember ever being worried over like that. He clears his throat, trying not to let that feeling get to him too much, shoving his laptop in his bag and zipping it up. “I will… don’t worry about me…”

He says it but he doesn’t really mean it. Although he doesn't want you to be anxious; he definitely doesn’t need to inflict any more emotional pain on you, he’s done more than enough of that over the past few weeks… he does want you to care. Or it’s more like… once he realized you actually do care, now he doesn’t want to lose that.

“Just be careful… I know you’ll do well and the team will be fine…” You smile gently. Clicking your pen and watching him getting ready to leave. His bag slung over his shoulder. “Thank you… yeah I just need to chill.” He sighs, moving his hurt hand around absentmindedly to soothe the ache. “Well… the feeling you’re having just means you care. It’s a good feeling, even though it’s scary…”

He looks in your eyes, down at where you’re still sitting. Feeling struck by your words. You’ve always been so good at that. You always know exactly what to say when he needs to hear it. He hopes to do the same for you one day. If only he can figure out how you manage to do it every time. He just nods in thanks, a renewed sense of relief inside.

“Dinner later?” He inquires, brow raising as he’s starting to walk away. Walking backwards away from the table, his eyes on you the entire time.

“Sure, I’ll meet you there…” You rest your head on your hand, watching him go from where you’re sitting. Watching that look on his face. A sort of satisfaction in that he’s leaving but already thinking about when he gets to see you next. He nods. Turning towards the library doors and smiling to himself, making his way out. Sneakers tapping on the hardwood floors of the academic building, sparing you one last glance. Finding your eyes still on him. A stupid sort of giddy feeling in his chest. Lopsided grin on his lips as he leaves the library.

“O’hara! Dude.” Peter’s voice brings him out of his flurry of thoughts. Watching his friend march down the rest of the hall to him. “Where you been? You disappeared again…” Peter chuckles.

“Oh yeah I‘ve just been… busy in the lab and stuff… and my application.” He lies. While it’s true he has been working on his application and piles of homework, he’s also been actively avoiding all of his friends ever since your fight. Unable to handle even the slightest of social interaction. His mind set on you and only you. But he won’t tell Peter that.

“Dana said you were being crazy or something…” Peter huffs, his brow quirked in disbelief. Miguel’s heart starts to beat a little harder at that. Did Dana tell everyone what happened? Or her version of what happened? “What did she say?”

“Well… she’s kinda implying that you two hooked up after the party last week…” Miguel’s eyes widen at that news. It’s just not true. But that seems to be the story everyone believes so far. “MJ thinks she’s full of shit bu-"

“She is full of shit.” Miguel sighs. Pinching the bridge of his nose. Or trying to with his cast. It was a foolish thing to give into his anger and take Dana back to his dorm. But he didn’t sleep with her. He’s not surprised though that she’s spreading that rumor around. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Shit, what happened?!” Peter flips, looking down at the cast engulfing Miguel’s forearm to the tips of his fingers. Looking at the seemingly broken hand, his eyes scanning over Miguel as a whole. Feeling like he has no idea what’s going on with someone who’s supposed to be his closest friend. “I broke my wrist but it’s fine, doctor says it’ll be fine even without surgery.”

“It’s fine?! What about the game?” Peter asks in panic, running a hand through his previously neat light brown locks. It’s against policy rules to play with a hard plaster cast for the safety of the other players and teammates. But Miguel’s the captain, their top offense and shooter.

“I’ll be on the sidelines and Miller and Durante can take care of it.”

“It’s Princeton, Miguel. We’re gonna get fuckin’ smoked out there…” Peter huffs, going on and on but Miguel just shakes his head, feeling that anxiety rising again. The anxiety you were able to dampen only moments ago. “I know it sucks… I know. But those new drills have been helping… I’m gonna talk to coach.”

“Alright… but Marco and Santiago need to get their asses in order before tomorrow. I’m not playing defense because they can’t pay attention to the fucking ball.”

“I know, I know…” Miguel sighs and nods. Knowing this is all bad timing. They’ve been preparing for this game for a while now and it’s a pretty big spectacle. The stands will undoubtedly be full to the brim. It makes him tense and anxious to think about.

“Okay…” Peter huffs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, text me what Coach says…” He sighs, lifting his fist. Their knuckles colliding as he’s starting to walk off to where he’s going. “No more disappearing…” Peter chuckles, looking back as he starts walking down the hall, pointing a finger at his friend. “Yeah, yeah…”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” Peter says with a nod, his hands in his pockets as he rounds the corner, walking into the library. Miguel sighs, feeling that tension, that tomorrow might not go well and it’ll be all his fault. Because he can’t do more to help the team he’s supposed to be leading.

He jogs down the stairs, down another hallway and outside. The fall breeze and smell of the trees and crisp autumn air flows past his cheeks, blowing back the little curls by his ears. Hunching his shoulders up when the brisk air cools his neck, pulling his collar up and walking across the commons to get to the athletic building on the other side of campus. To meet with Coach about the game plan for tomorrow.

“Come on guys, one more time!” Miguel calls out to the team. Dressed in his uniform, dark blue and silver stripes, school colors with the Sterling University crest on his arm, a C on his chest. Number 99 on his back. Cleats and his cast to match. It does suck he has to miss out on actually playing but he does a lot of assistant coaching as captain anyway so it’s nothing he’s not used to. Coach Dean is talking with the referees anyway. Schmoozing on the sidelines, convinced it’ll earn them less whistles through the game.

Miguel sighs, anxious, shaking his head and directing his attention to the mobs of people filling the stands. The sun is setting, the field lights coming on and a slight chill filling the air. A buzz with that too. College soccer fans here as well as lots of students from both universities. People are excited. The team is excited as well as anxious without Miguel playing beside them. Knowing they’ll have to supplement him being out. Miguel huffs, stretching his arms and wincing slightly at the remnants of ache in his wrist, his breath fogging in the cold air.

“Come on… si yeah! ¡Mantén la posesión!" He shouts from the sides, watching the team warming up with the drills and keeping order, following them up and down their half of the field. “Marco!¡Sigue presionando! Call for it!" A mix of Spanish and English naturally leave his lips. Dark eyes follow their form and technique. Keeping everyone in order. They’re doing really well as always. But Miguel would prefer perfection. “Good! Alright break!” He shouts.

The team all relaxes, sighing in relief and collecting on the sidelines near the bench. Some passing the ball back and forth. The goalie is doing some technique in the practice nets with Durante and Miller. Others glancing at the opposing team warming up on their side of the field. “Marco, you’re gonna break you’re fuckin’ ankle doing that. Keep it light, it doesn’t have to be so fast. Slow down and go through the steps, alright?” Miguel instructs calmly, grabbing a ball and demonstrating on the turf by the benches. Marco nods, wiping his brow with the edge of his jersey.

“Just like that… keep it loose and look at Miller, he’s the one you’re paying attention to. Don’t look at Durante, he’s gonna be looking at Miller for that pass down the field. But that was still good, keep it up..”

“There’s a lot of people here…” Peter comments, squirting some water into his mouth, catching his breath. Miguel walks over from helping Marco, standing beside his friend and looking out at the people in the stands. It’s a little more than they’re used to. Little intimidating considering this stadium seats thousands of people.

“It’s a big game…” Miguel huffs, grabbing his water bottle. Wish I could fucking play… he thinks. Glancing at Coach, still talking to the refs near the midline. They have a little while before everything starts.

It’s the end of the first half and it’s been a good game so far. Princeton is good but so is Sterling. They’d be better if Miguel was on the field to help them. He finds himself getting frustrated on the sidelines, disagreeing with the refs calls and calling out to his teammates, trying to lead and instruct. The whistle blows and the team finally relaxes. Panting and walking over to the sidelines.

“They’re fast…” Marco pants, plopping down on the bench to catch his breath. “We have to be faster… but we’re holding our own…” Miguel says, hands on his hips and looking over the team, trying to keep the edge from his tone. He’s here to lead, not berate.

“You good?” He sees Peter covered in grass stains. Peter’s the one that’s been scoring pretty much all the goals so far. Princeton’s defense is good. It’s one of those games where no one’s going to score very many goals, it’s all about making sure the other team doesn’t get too close. “That was really good, keep doing that. And if it works better for Marco to go up the right side, then do that.” Miguel says.

“I will… they’re so fuckin fast…” Peter pants, grabbing his water bottle and squirting some in his mouth. Breathing heavy through his nose. The team takes a few minutes at halftime to refuel and plan for the second half. Peter and Marco will have to be smart about the next plays. They’re down by two and the other team just keeps getting closer and closer.

“I got a girl in the stands…” Peter says with a lopsided smile, still out of breath, spraying some more water into his mouth. “Yeah?” Miguel’s brow quirks at that information. He knows Peter has a lot of girls around him and friends that are girls. Makes sense, he’s very smart, an athlete, loud and the life of the party. Everyone always trying to get a piece of him. Not a foreign concept to Miguel himself. Miguel grabs his water bottle too, raising it to his mouth. “Who is she?”

“Her name’s y/n…”

What?

“...yeah you should meet her… she’s really pretty and smart and funny...”

What?

Peter keeps talking, tossing a ball to someone else across the bench. Not even registering the look on Miguel’s face. Like shock and something else. Something Miguel himself can’t put a finger on. And Miguel can only half listen to Peter’s words. “She’s head of the tutoring club… did I tell you I started doing that? Dude, I’m getting paid to do some freshman’s homework and get course credit. It's like the easiest shit in the world…” Peter laughs, talking on and on.

Miguel doesn’t understand. It’s like his brain can’t process this. Staring at Peter silently and waiting for him to say it’s a joke. But how could it be a joke?

“She’s riiiiight… there-” Peter turns, pointing at the stands. Turning stiffly, Miguel looks out to where he’s pointing. His dark eyes searching the stands and looking for your face. Hoping to see some stranger who happens to have the same name as you. But no. It’s you.

He watches your gaze snap onto them, seeming surprised to have both their attention now. How did he not notice? You’ve been here this whole time, sitting nearly 15 rows behind him and he didn’t know? But Peter knew?

He can’t help that his immediate reaction to seeing you is relief. Seeing you up there and he just wants to smile. Wants to disappear with you and forget this stressful game. You’re like… his best friend in the whole world. But then that relief is quickly quelled when he realizes Peter is the one who invited you, he’s the reason you’re here.

Miguel huffs. Nearly getting hit in the face when Peter starts waving at you. Stepping back and trying to make sense of this. There you are, waving back their way. What is this? He wonders. Unable to help the scowl that appears on his face as he observes Peter waving. What is this happening that he doesn’t know about or had no idea could even happen? Another bubble has popped and he didn’t even know it.

He looks back up at you. Your eyes looking his way. But are you looking at him or are you looking at Peter? He hates that he can’t even tell. He hopes it’s him but it’s too much distance to know for sure. He just holds up a hand weakly. Waving at you. Feeling like an idiot, a total fool. And here Peter is waving at you, thinking Miguel doesn’t even know who you are. Fuck.

“Alright boys! Let’s huddle up!” Coach yells, coming over to the bench and motioning for everyone to come over. Peter moves to head over, gently kicking a ball on his way. And Miguel can’t help but keep glancing at you. Feeling self conscious. You’ve been watching him and witnessing all of this, this entire time? He didn’t even know you were here and half of the game had already been played. And all he’s done is stand on the sidelines while Peter played big shot scorer.

Your hands wave at him, mouthing something he can’t make out. His brow knitting together as you try to communicate something to him before Coach snaps again.

“O’hara!”

His eyes snap to the team huddled by the bench. Taking long strides to get over there. But his mind is a mess. He didn’t even know you knew each other.

The second half, the rest of the game, it’s hard for Miguel to focus on coaching. He’s watching the team play but it’s like a delayed reaction in his mind. Like his body is here but his brain is trying to tap into some invisible signal stretching from you to him. Peter scores again and Miguel flinches at the sound of the stands erupting. Cheering and echoing through his head. Pounding the sides of his skull.

He can’t help but glance your way every chance he gets. But every time he’s able to spot you in the sea of colors and foreign faces, you’re looking at the ball on the field. Which is always in Peter’s possession. And he can’t focus on anything except what he doesn’t know. What he can’t control.

…

“Wooooo!” Marco hollers, the team gathering in a huddle on the field and celebrating their close victory. They won, but it was a tough game. Miguel stares almost blankly as the team all slaps hands and says good game. And by the time he snaps out of it, turning to find you, the stands are already emptying out and you’re gone from your seat.

“O’hara!” The team shouts, bringing him out of the mess of thoughts. The players crowding him in celebration on the sidelines. Cheers and loud voices. Talking about moments in the game, highlights, certain techniques that had Princeton on their toes. All in all it was an exciting match and Peter was definitely the savior, scoring more goals than anyone and making the game. And Peter is all smiles.

The team heads back to the locker room. Showering and warming down from the game. Miguel stands at his locker. His new locker since the punched in door wouldn’t close properly on his old one. Pulling off his jersey carefully with one hand and hanging it up. Wiping down his broad chest with a towel and hearing Peter with some of the boys walking in from the showers. His movements slow, brow furrowing, grabbing his change of clothes and pulling a tank top on, the black material bunching down his toned abdomen against his deep skin. Listening to Peter’s voice.

His mind races. Since when did you two become such good friends? And why wouldn’t I know you were coming to the game when I saw you all day yesterday? Does Peter know that? Does Peter know we spend countless hours together? Does Peter know we have this deep connection that I’m actually working really hard to repair? He ought to.

He listens to Peter’s conversation, as if waiting for him to say your name to confirm he’s talking about you. But he can’t make it out all the way. Something about a party, something about his car, something about the game. He watches the rest of the guys leave the locker room. Peter walks by with the guys and he just subtly, silently glares as they pass, not noticing him. pulling his hoodie on and shutting his locker gently. Pulling his phone off the charger and slinging his sports bag over his shoulder, walking out.

He slumps down the concrete steps, the hallway leading to the exit doors, opening out to the athletic parking lot. Raking a hand through his hair, his mind a mess. He’s not used to feeling so beaten down after a game. They won, he should be happy. He should be glad. But he just feels indifferent. Or he just really needs to see you.

When the door swings from someone else leaving, he catches a glimpse of you through the opening. The bright lights from outside assault his eyes as the door swings again. Seeing you for just a moment. Just a split second. Talking with Peter against the fence. He stops. What is he walking into? What’s about to change? You’re gonna be there right when he goes through that door. He stands in the dim concrete tunnel, feeling his heart race. He doesn’t like this feeling. This is the loss of control.

“Miguel!” Peter smiles, making you turn to look back. And there he is, walking out the door. You want to just run into his arms and tell him how great he was. Even though he didn't get to play he still coached very well and played his part in the victory. But Peter is talkative and gets in there before you can. And you don't really want to interrupt when he's talking with his friends. Since this is the first time you've been around his friends with him.

“We’re gonna get drinks, you have to come” Peter says, ushering Miguel over to where you’re standing. “This is y/n… y/n this is Miguel”

“Yeah we know each other.” Miguel says immediately. Not a hint of a smile on his face. He’s annoyed with Peter. Annoyed that it’s not a known thing. He wants it to be known that you two are an item. Or… that there’s something going on… he’s not even sure of at the moment. At least that Peter should know to back off. “Oh cool, so drinks?”

Miguel��s a little astonished with how easily Peter just brushed that off. Eyes flicking between you two and hoping to god you don’t accept the drink invite. But he bites his tongue. Friends. Really good… friends.

“Uh… I don’t know, I’m kinda tired…” You sigh. Part of you not wanting to go since it’s not your normal scene but a bigger part needing to go so you can feel like you’re really one of Miguel’s friends. Not someone he has to hide. That you can get along with them and be a part of his life. That’s all you want to prove to him.

“Come on… please?” Peter pouts. And Miguel wants to scream. Trying to tell you with his eyes that he doesn’t want to do this. Not right now. Maybe later when he’s had time to mentally prepare himself. It doesn’t help that you look adorable right now. In your Sterling Uni hoodie with a scarf to keep warm. He doesn’t want to do this. He’d rather just go to dinner. Like always. Talk for hours and maybe even fall asleep talking in your dorm like always. Not this. Please not this.

His eyes burning a hole right through you, trying to communicate it without using the words since he can’t right now, not with Peter standing right there. Part of him wants you to come and show you off. The other part of him wants you all to himself, not wanting to share you with anyone. But he’s trying to be better. Trying to control himself rather than try to control everything else around him.

“It would be fun, right Miguel?” Peter asks, bringing him out of his thoughts. He wants to say no. Wants to say fuck no and disappear, taking you with him. But he can’t do that now. So he just nods stiffly, forcing a smile. Almost painfully. “Yeah… come…”

Your eyes light up and Miguel knows he’s done for. “Oh great!” You smile and Peter is instantly excited too. Talking about how great it’s going to be and how many people will be there. Miguel’s heart is pounding, seeing how easily Peter was able to get you to come. How Peter is smiling and looking at you. A sense of dread filling his chest.

It’s the usual bar. The college bar around the corner from campus where the sports teams usually congregate after a game. Or the general student body on a Friday night. Loud music and conversation, the place is packed. Football and UFC playing on the multitude of TVs hanging in the place. The team filters in all acting like they own this place. Playing pool and getting drinks, talking to girls in corners and at the bar. It’s a crazy night at least for you. Miguel’s seen nights like this before, but this time you’re here. And he won’t let you out of his sight. Even as people talk to him, trying to strike up conversation and catch up. Since everyone knows who he is and knows his name. He still keeps his attention focused on you. He doesn’t care about anyone else in this bar tonight.

Drinks flow the second everyone is in there, laughter and loud voices, trying to be heard over the music. Miguel keeps his arm barred at your side to help get you through the density of people. Like a shield to make sure no one bumps into you. Not wanting you to be too claustrophobic or crowded. Staying nearby until you find two seats at the bar miraculously. As you sit down, Miguel quickly scans the room. Looking for one face in particular. No sign of Dana and he can relax a tiny bit. Sliding into his stool seat beside you.

He sits down, watching how you observe the place, looking a little out of your element here. It’s clear you’re not a party girl. You’re a smart, intelligent tutor and it shows. It would almost be comical if Miguel didn’t have a fierce determination to protect you in this place.

He leans over, getting closer to your ear to be heard over the noise. The smell of your shampoo mixed with your perfume, so close and familiar, filling his senses and almost making him dizzy. His mind flashing with moments of you in his bed. Your body under his and his face buried in your soft sweet smelling hair. He’s the only one in this bar that knows what you sound like when you come.

“Drink… Do you want a drink?” He asks, trying to be heard over the noise, his cheek brushing against yours. Pulling back to hear your response. “Yeah! Whatever is fine…” You smile, trying to speak over the chaos of people and stimulation. A bit out of your element but doing fine. Excited to be here with him and feel like you’re fitting into his world.

He gets the bartender's attention, ordering you just a beer in a bottle. He doesn’t know if you’d want anything fruity, not that this crappy bar would have anything that good anyway. He’s never drunk with you before. He slides it over to you, watching you take a gulp and smile. You’re so out of your element here. He sighs. A swell in his chest.

Even though he would normally be drinking a couple beers himself, he just has water in front of him. He wants to stay relatively sober. Enough to keep watch over you and make sure no one else talks to you. “Oh, I thought you were gonna get the same thing…” You chuckle, leaning your elbows on the bar and watching him sipping his water from a plastic cup.

“Someone needs to be responsible for all these people right?” He chuckles. As captain of the team he actually does feel that responsibility. To keep people in line since he knows they’ll listen to him. “And I need to be sober if I’m carrying you out of this place drunk off your ass…” He jokes, teasing you.

“I’m not getting drunk tonight, no way. No thank you…” You sigh, shaking your head. Looking down at the label on the bottle in your hand. Then your eyes dart around the crowded room a few times. He just looks at your face. You’re so pretty. Especially pretty in this low light.

“Well how is the beer at least? I know it’s not something sweet but it’s probably the best thing they have here.” He huffs, keeping his eyes on you, studying you. He’d love to just be all over you and show people that you’re his. But you’re not right now. You’re his friend and that’s the boundary you both set. He’s trying his best to uphold that after his mistakes. “It’s fine… I don’t ever drink much anyway so I’m not picky…”

He nods. Learning more about you all the time. The two of you have never been out to a bar or club before so this is all brand new. He can see how you’re a little nervous in this place. It’s not your usual hangout spot and he can tell. “Yeah, this place is pretty chaotic tonight…” He comments, looking around then back at you. “You’re okay though, right?”

“Yeah I’m fine…” You smile. Clasping your hands in your lap. He’s attentive, more recently than ever. It’s true that he’s become like your best friend over the last month and a half. Even though it hasn’t been that long, it’s felt like a lifetime. And with how much time you spend together, it still feels like he separates you from a lot of the other parts of his life. Friends, family, everything else. You spot Peter across the way standing with some people. The only other person you even know in this place.

Miguel follows your gaze over towards where Peter is and he can't help but wonder why you're looking at Peter or what you're thinking. He looks at the group of people around him, recognizing teammates and classmates, but notices Peter in particular.He tries to remain cool, looking back at you. "He's a great friend… isn't he… "

He says it with a little bit of annoyance in his voice, thinking about how you two have gotten really close as friends and he didn't even know it.

"Yeah he's really sweet," You smile, not really noticing his expression. You want Miguel to know that you can get along with his friends too and you can be a part of his life. "He's funny…"

His brow twitches just a bit. He doesn't know how to feel about the fact that you two are friends in and out of the tutoring club. And that you’re calling him sweet. And funny. He knows how charismatic and charming Peter is, knowing he could get any girl he wants. "He always gets the girls… he's quite the flirt…" He mumbles.

"Oh really?" You smile and scrunch your nose up, looking back at Peter and seeing that yes, there are many girls around him right now. And he must be very popular with the girls, you think. You hadn't really noticed that Peter was a flirt but you think he's charming. Maybe you're just so focused on being his friend to prove to Miguel you can be part of his friend group.

Miguel can feel his patience slipping. How you seem so oblivious to the fact that Peter is a huge flirt and that Peter was flirting with you earlier when he invited you to the bar. But he's been Peter's friend for years, of course he knows the girls flock around him. It just annoys him that you’re completely oblivious to it. He watches you watching Peter across the room, trying not to let it show on his face how frustrated he is.

"How's your hand?" You ask, taking a sip from your bottle. Gesturing towards his cast in his lap. Trying to talk over the noise in the room. The topic change gives him some relief. Grateful to think about something other than the image of Peter taking you home tonight. He lifts his hand, flexing a few fingers. "It's fine. Doesn't really hurt much right now. It's a good reminder to not lose my cool again… "

"Yeah, that locker room hates to see you comin’…" You joke with a smile. Shaking your head. Punched his locker like some guy in a movie.

Miguel can't help but smile, knowing you’re referring to him punching the front of his locker like a crazy person. He sighs, knowing it was stupid and a loss of control. "That locker had it coming though…"

You laugh at his words, his eyes lighting up watching your head throw back a bit. The fluttering sound of your laughter carrying slightly over the noise in the room and hitting his ears. He wants to make you laugh like that all the time. Make you smile like this every day. And Peter works his way through the room over to the bar.

"There you guys are! I thought I lost you…" Peter's face lights up when he gets closer, excited to see his best friend and you, the pretty tutor. He stands behind both your chairs putting his hands on the backs of them. Miguel’s eyes flick back-and-forth between you two. You're still oblivious. Smiling at Peter like you don't know what he's doing. Every instinct inside of him telling him to make Peter back off. But he's trying to be better for you. Trying not to lose control or act impulsive.

"Spending the night bragging, are you?" You smile and tease Peter lightly. Leaning over the back of your chair. He did score a lot of the winning goals tonight. Peter laughs and loves any attention from you. Miguel can only listen and watch this interaction between the two of you. It's like a nightmare come to life. And he's feeling claustrophobic in this crowded place with all these people. He just wants to take your hand and go back to campus, go back to your dorm, go back to the library.

"Well you all played very well…" You hum. Looking between the two boys. You can't help but notice Miguel’s body language. Thinking he must just be upset that he didn't get to play because of his cast. But he did very well on the sidelines.

"Peter here was especially on his game today. Princeton is tough…" Miguel says with tension in his tone, finally joining in on the conversation. His eyes flicking between the two of you but landing on you mostly. Watching your reaction to Peter's words.

"It's all in the foot work really. Reading the opponent… Gotta think about 10 steps ahead." Peter says with a grin, in his element. Miguel has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. As much as he loves Peter, he wants him to fuck off right now.

You giggle softly at Peter's joke and his obvious love for attention. Loving the way you can so casually hang out with Miguel and his friends for the first time ever. Miguel clenches his jaw, sipping his water and trying to keep his cool. You take a sip of your beer finding it's the last one, putting the empty bottle back on the bar. It seems both boys take notice.

"Can I get you another? "Peter asks, His eyes lighting up.

“Um…" You're thinking. You don't really do this that often and you're finally getting to hang out with Miguel and his friends. What the hell… "Sure!"

Peter flashes that charming smile at you and Miguel can feel his control slipping again. Now he's buying you drinks?

"I got it." Miguel suddenly says, waving to the bartender for another round. If anyone's getting you drunk tonight, it's gonna be him. So he can make sure you're okay. “Okayyy…” Peter huffs softly, raising his brow at Miguel’s rivalry. But Miguel doesn’t care. Grabbing the fresh cold beer bottle and sliding it over the bar in front of you. Looking back up at Peter, a stern expression on his face.

Over the next hour and your next two beers, Peter just won’t go away. He’s practically hanging on your chair, talking to you about whatever. And because you’re so nice and sweet you just keep giving into him. Smiling at Miguel too like you want him to be in on the conversation. But it just makes him feel worse somehow. Is he really losing you to Parker? Is that how this is gonna go?

“So… you guys are like best friends?” You ask, your words slightly slurred, cheeks pink and flushed. You’re tipsy and Miguel’s watching you like a hawk. Your beer shined lips as you smile up at Peter. So damn cute and pretty. “We are… best friends…” Peter says in a cocky way. Grabbing Miguel’s shoulder and shaking it a few times, a beer in his other hand. Miguel might be the only sober one in this place and it’s getting annoying.

He fidgets with the same fray on his cast, pulling on it and pulling on it. Watching you talk to Peter. Forcing a smile when you look his way. It’s getting unbearable. Eyes flicking around the crowded room and just wanting to get out of here.

“One more round?” Peter asks and Miguel groans internally. You’re both drunk, everybody is drunk and he just wants to get you back somewhere it’s safer. Peter gets to chatting loudly with some other people down the bar.

“Do you wanna leave?” You lean over, getting closer to Miguel, right up to his face and he just gives you a soft look. Admiring your pretty flushed features. He can see you’ve been having fun. “No, I’m good, we can stay if you want…” He hums gently.

“Don’t lie, Mig…” You whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear over the noise. And his brow knits together, hearing the nickname, your soft warm voice, wanting to reach out and brush your hair back, kiss your pretty pink lips. Anything. “I’m a little tired…” He admits. And even in your tipsy state, you know it’s time to go.

“Let’s go then… it’s too loud…” You sigh, a distracted Peter now talking loudly with Marco and Miller down the bar. Relief, Miguel thinks. He does really want to make sure you get back to your dorm okay.

…

“Wai-I ‘ave a question…” You slur, hanging onto him and pressed up against his chest as he’s trying to get you over to bed. His big strong arms around you and it feels so good, feels so right. What you’ve been missing all this time and now it just feels like everything is perfect and everything is good and… and your tongue still tastes like beer and… and he smells so good.

“Yeah, what's your question?” He asks so soft and gently. His voice is like smooth melted butter mixed with sweet brown sugar. Bringing you over to your bed and sitting you down on the edge. Making sure you don’t topple over. “Hold still, I’m gonna take your shoes off…”

“D’you think… that… um…” You sigh, the alcohol clouding everything making you instantly forget what you were about to ask him. But the thought is mixing around your brain just waiting to come out. After all, it’s all you were thinking about all night. “M-my shoe is stuck”

“I know, I’m trying to get it off…” He sighs, unable to stop the smile when he hears your little whine. You are pretty cute like this and he likes helping you. Kneeling down in front of you and taking your shoe onto his knee to undo the laces, slipping it off.

“Do you think that… all your friends… that they like-like it?” You sigh, wiggling your toes in your socks as he slides your shoe off. His hands on your calves, absentmindedly caressing up and down, having you in his hands like this is too good to pass up, but he looks up at you at your question. His brow furrowing, wondering what you mean. “Do they like what,-?” He almost called you baby right there. But stopped himself. Maybe it’s just being like this with you right now. Being close and finally being needy for his help, needing him in any way. Or the way you seem so soft and fragile right now he just wants to protect you.

“That they like me…” You sigh. Pushing a hand through your hair and he pulls your other shoe off, your feet freeing and legs dangling off the side of the bed.

He looks up at you, piecing together your broken sentence. Do his friends like you? Peter?

“Like P-peter… does Peter like me?” You ask and his expression goes serious. Swallowing thickly and setting your shoes to the side. He knows the answer. He knows that Peter obviously has a thing for you. It’s becoming more clear you have a thing for him too.

Miguel straightens back up, standing over you and listening to your drunken rambling. Your mumbles. “Cuz I think Peter is really nice and I think you and I can be friends… and I can be friends with your friends too…”

He doesn’t understand what you mean. Towering over you and feeling so blocked up. Like he’s miles away from where he wants to be with you. He wants you to want him. Not think about Peter.

“Uh… I think Peter likes you, yeah…” He mumbles. Looking down at your face. The way it lights up and his heart falls. “Really? So we can all be friends?”

His heart hurts, looking in your eyes. So confused, not knowing what to think. But wishing he could just kiss you right now and make your thoughts stop. Or to fill your thoughts with him. If he kissed you right now would you forget Peter ever existed? If he kissed you right now, if he laid you down and pumped into you until you were a crying trembling moaning mess like all those times before, would you forget Peter and think about him again?

“I’m sweating…” You huff, moving to get up off the bed and his arms come to steady you. “Woah woah slow down, sweetheart…” The words ooze off his lips. His hands guide you before you reassure him you can walk. He huffs, watching you walk over to your closet. He sits down on the edge of your bed, head in his hands. Feeling pathetic and so lost. Not even knowing what to do at this point. Has he actually lost you for good? Will he actually only ever be your friend now?

You’re sweating, pulling at the material of your hoodie and ripping it off over your head. Slipping your pants off and sighing in relief. Standing in your panties and bra by the dresser and looking for some comfy clothes. Your mind filled with the thoughts of being Miguel’s again. You’re friends with his friends like any girlfriend would be. So what’s stopping him? What’s stopping both of you from just being together again? Since you’ve proven to him, you can fit in.

“Miguel…” You hum, his head coming out of his hands and looking up at you. Eyes widening seeing you in just your underwear. Gulping thickly. “Yes?” He whispers. Like beckoning to your call. Like a plea for you to just put him out of his misery already.

You walk over to him, trying to half haphazardly pull on a big t-shirt. His hands unable to stop themselves, coming up to help pull the material down. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing. This all just makes him feel somehow worse. Your body taunting him, teasing him with everything he needs and no way to get it.

Your hips slot between his legs, standing between them and getting closer. Fingers clenching into his shirt and smashing your lips against his. His fingers splay out, shock and surprise. His eyes wide and heart seemingly stops. You’re… kissing him… you…

Heavy breath through his nose and his eyes flutter closed. Kissing you back, feeling your eager tongue tasting like alcohol come into his mouth. Letting it swirl against his lips and his tongue. His big hands snaking around you, holding you for the first time like this in so long. You gasp and hum against his lips and a chill goes down his back. He must be dreaming.

But your hands go to his chest, pushing him back on the bed, and he’s so weak to you. His back hitting the mattress. He wants this so badly. Wants you more than anything in the entire world. You climb on top of him, clambering over his body, sitting on his abdomen and leaning down to kiss him again.

“Wait-”

He’s silenced by your lips, trying to be dominant and licking into his mouth. You never did that before. That was always him. But right now it’s like you’re hungry for him in the exact same way he was hungry for you all this time.

“I need you…” You whisper, pulling back from his lips with a smack. His eyes wide and breath heaving. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and yet it’s not right at all. “No baby… you need to go to sleep… you’re drunk…” He whispers, feeling so weak, his hands running up your warm bare thighs, like medicine. His cast is slightly scratchy on your thigh. Finally your body on his, your warmths feeding off of each other.

“No please… say you want me, please you have to, don’t you want to?” You whine. Leaning over him and kissing his cheek, burying your face in his neck. He’s speechless. Doesn’t know what to say or think. He thought you were done all this time. He thought you were pining after Parker.

“I want you… I do want you…” He whispers before his mind can even think. His hands falling from your thighs and flat on the bed. It feels wrong to touch you this way. His love for you overshadows his own selfish need. You won’t remember this in the morning.

You won’t remember this in the morning.

“I love you…” He whispers. Into your hair. Choking back a lump in his throat.

“Mm?” You groan, pushing yourself up drunkenly on your hands, your hair dangling into his face under you.

“Nothing…” He whispers. Swallowing thickly and wrapping his arms around you again. Pulling you to his chest and hugging you. Keeping you there, knowing you’ll pass out in a few minutes anyway and he can tuck you into bed safe and sound.

To be continued…

Reblogs and comments very much appreciated!! Let me know what you think or your theories!

Taglist (thank you my sweets 🍬) :

@miguels-cock-piercings @queerponcho @club-danger-zone @bossva @softcrayon

@nommingonfood @bruhhvv

@jessies-unrelagated-thoughts @mauvecherie-writes @haveclayeveryday @kimivixen

@jadeloverxd @chiikasevennn @mvlanchqly @resident-cryptid

@x0tw0d57 @vampyboys @miguelspriscilla

@francesca-the-1st @migueloharasbbm @razertail18 @laysmt

@tojiragdoll @maiyart @wazawazooo @mun-2996 @marshhbs

@curious-randomlr @safixiovi @daddyfroglegs @theplaid-wearingmoose @reader-1290

@yeanika @elysiumsangel @rinnako @mangoslushcrush @twwcs

@izakopanyi2 @migueloharasoulmate @slut4oscarissac23

@miss-loomis @genny101

@aphinthestars @webshooterrr9 @m4dyy

@jdbxws @roserfz27 @ohara-whore @oharaslove @daisy-artfield

@mooreaey6yem @peachey-pie @migueloharacumslut @pxtched

@yougavemeyourheartyouknow @julia4today

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buryustogether · 1 year ago

Text

lilac - chapter 4

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: you accidentally overhear a conversation between miguel and his ai at work.

wc: 4.5k

warnings/tags: domestic lifestyle, mentions of violence, mentions of choking and death, swearing, mentions of office sex, strippers, sex workers, strip club, private dances, cuddling

author’s note: he’s so lana del rey coded guys

Anybody with experience knew that trying to keep twenty third graders together was like herding cats. Anybody with further experience knew that keeping twenty third graders together in a sharp, sleek, trillion-dollar facility like Alchemax was like herding cats who were soaking wet and high on all the catnip they could have stuffed their stupid little faces with in the span of five minutes.

“Alexander,” you snapped as you helped your coworker count little bodies as they piled off the bus. “If I have to tell you one more time to keep your hands off James, I’m going to drive this bus myself back to school and give you a fifty-page packet while everyone else here has fun.”

While your words had the effect you hoped they did, you wouldn’t exactly classify a field trip to Alchemax as fun. It was a megacorporation that dabbled in exploits from clean energy to genetics to god knew whatever else they did in there between those fancy metal walls. The building looked as though it should have come straight from a sci-fi film compared to the other foundations on the block, all floor-to-ceiling windows and fifty-some floors and armed guards that stood at the front doors. Certainly not a place to take a field trip with a bunch of nine year olds. Again, you would have thought some place like the zoo or even an interactive museum would have been better, but when the principal wanted something, she got it.

To be honest, you had a suspicion she was hooking up with one of the guards here, but you had nothing to prove your theory.

Like the pack of raging little animals that they were, your students filed across the front way of the building and up the stone stairs to the doors, where they waited in a mass of wiggles and excited spasms. Each of them held their partner’s hand, a rule you pressed with each field trip. Going into a freaky building like this, you almost wished you had a hand to hold yourself.

“That’s all of them,” said your coworkers, one of the three teachers who had come to chaperone the trip. She looked up from her clipboard of names, double checking each kid as you both followed the crowd of children up the steps. “Christ, this is going to be a shitshow. I just know we’re going to be escorted out of here after… I don’t know, a molecular leveler gets demolished by tiny, sticky hands.”

You snuffed out a little snort, reaching up to adjust the necklace perched about your collarbones. In your free hand, you carried a coffee cup that still had the tab in; it wasn’t for you. “I think it’ll be alright,” you said, but not nearly as confidently as you would have liked. “We had an entire assembly over this.”

“And since when has that ever helped?” She followed your movements, her eyes trailing over your form. You blinked at her. “Are you wearing lipstick?”

“Hah! No…!” Quickly, before she could ask any more questions, you turned away and pressed your lips to your sleeve, trying to wipe off some of the excess lipstick you’d applied right before leaving the school. Fuck, it was too much, wasn’t it?

Definitely too much for popping in to visit during a school field trip when you should have been watching your kids.

After passing through multiple tall, sleek-looking metal detectors (and scolding a few kids for bringing their phones when they were specifically told to leave them at school), you met the man who would be giving the tour of the facility in the lobby. Overhead, modern-art-classified light fixtures hung from the ceiling like someone had captured starlight and crammed it into bulbs. A cafeteria filled with scientists and researchers and everyone in between stood to your left, each of them donned in a stark white lab coat. Some of them spoke on phones, others clacked away on laptops and futuristic-looking tablets with such an intensity you would have thought they were taking a test for their lives. A few of them spared a glace or two at your group, but they didn’t last long. Apparently field trips to designated areas in the building were normal.

You heard the tour guide talking animatedly to the kids, but his words didn’t quite register as you kept your head on a swivel, searching out something specific. After a moment, when you leaned back on the heels of your feet, you found what you were looking for; the elevators.

“Hey,” you said to your coworker as the kids began to move deeper into the lobby, “will you cover for me? I’ve got to run to the restroom real quick.”

After they had moved along to where they couldn’t see you, you grasped the coffee cup tighter in your grasp and made a beeline for the elevators. Your footsteps against the polished marble seemed deafening as you quickened your pace, realizing the cup wasn’t as hot as it had been earlier. How fucking humiliating would it be if you brought him cold coffee? There was a part of you that knew, really, he wouldn’t mind, but the larger, more insecure bit insisted he would mentally cringe and throw it out the second you left.

Fuck, you thought. This man had you whipped.

You had just reached the elevators, reaching out to tap the call button, when a voice called out to you from your left. “Excuse me,” said a woman sitting behind a large metal desk you hadn’t seen in your haste. She eyed you from behind thick lenses, brow quirked over the top of her monitor. “We do ask that you stay with your group, if you’re here for a tour.”

“Oh! Uhm…” Gripping the cup tight enough that you felt the cardboard bend ever so slightly against your fingers, you padded closer to the desk and put on your best tight-lipped smile. “I’m sorry. I was just bringing a drink to someone who worked here. He’s, uhm… he’s -”

Before you could force your tongue to get out some kind of excuse, some kind of title, the woman was pulling out a small paper sheet from a drawer beside her leg. “Are you a significant other?” she asked, pulling a visitor sticker from the sheet and leaning forward to press it to your shirt. She didn’t seem to want to wait for an answer before sitting back down and clicking away at her screen. “Just a security question before you go; name and floor number?”

Goddamn; suddenly you were so fucking glad some people sucked at their jobs.

Taking a breath, you inhaled and plastered on a grin. “O’Hara,” you replied. “Floor seven.”

“Alright,” she said without looking up again. “You’re free to go up. Please stay in the public hallways.”

The entire elevator ride up to the third floor, you were unable to keep a goofy, surely stupid-looking smile from your face. You liked the idea of being called Miguel’s ‘significant other.’ It made your stomach clench, made your pulse race and your heart thunder and your core throb with a dull ache. For just a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that kind of role, being deserving of such a title.

Coming home from your teaching job not to immediately race to do your makeup in loud, flashy colors, but to stay in the warm, basking glow of a house or a roomy apartment each evening. The keys would always fit just right in the lock, never click or jump. The air would be filled with the sound of a little girl’s quiet giggles from her bedroom, along with the smell of dinner cooking on the stove. Small soccer cleats by the door. Trinkets and photographs and everything else that made the house a home strewn about the rooms. And a tall, sinewy figure that towered over you there to greet you when you walked inside, all warm smiles and wide, calloused hands on your hips and full lips to press against yours with enough gentleness and passion and adoration to keep you on your toes the rest of the night.

A bed big enough for the both of you, with enough blankets and comforters that you wouldn’t be cold even if you couldn’t afford to keep the heat on. Sheets and pillows that knew your white-knuckled grip, that would mold to your hands as you laid out bare for him and allowed him to worship the very ground you walked on with his mouth, his fingers, what lay beneath his slim, narrow hips…

By the time the elevator reached the seventh floor and the doors opened with a gentle chime, your cheeks were hot and your palms were sweaty enough you were sure you’d heated the coffee back up to steaming.

Wandering through the halls of Alechmax’s third floor and feeling incredibly out of place amongst the scientists flipping through reports and chattering on calls, you shuffled from office to office, searching for that familiar name that made your stomach flip. It seemed an awkwardly insane amount of time before you finally spotted his name on a plate beside a door left slightly ajar. You approached and smoothed out your shirt, preparing to present the coffee, when you heard voices inside.

“This isn’t like you, boss,” a woman was saying, her voice slightly warped from speaking over a computer. “You’re always preaching to the others that messing with canon events and triggering changes that aren’t meant to happen is wrong. You know it’s wrong.”

From across the room, a voice you recognized as Miguel’s scoffed. “This one is different. I’m balancing out the changes. I’ve got it under control.”

“Some control you’ve got. You do realize you’ve already altered enough canon events that even this universe itself doesn’t know where it’s going anymore? The bad guys here aren’t supposed to be in jail. Things aren’t supposed to get better. You know why? Because here, there is no Spiderman.”

Spiderman? Your gut clenched slightly as you inched closer to the gap between the door and the frame. If they were talking about Spiderman, then surely - he must have come from here. Some of those conspiracy theorists were right.

“Like I said, Lyla,” Miguel replied, his voice a touch deeper than it had been just a moment ago, “I have it under control.”

The woman named Lyla went on despite the dangerous rumble in Miguel’s throat you’d never heard before. “Here’s another one. That friend of yours? She was supposed to be engaged by now to her boyfriend. Her actual boyfriend. They’re supposed to have the whole angsty proposal thing, go back and forth for another three months, then end things. When he ends her. Asphyxiation by choking for approximately seven minutes, by the way.”

For a long, long while, there was silence. You realized you had been holding your breath, trying desperately to connect these pieces that just refused to fit together. What on earth were they talking about? Universes? Spiderman? Someone getting choked to death by their fiance? It sounded like a bad movie plot.

“Lyla?” came Miguel’s voice.

“Yeah, boss?”

“...Shut down and mute all alerts.”

Again, there came that horrible, palpable silence. Lyla seemed to be in some kind of shock. “Boss, I’m not sure that’s really what you want. You’re in a state of denial. Maybe you should take a break there, come back to headquarters. Jessica’s tried reaching out. Peter and Ben, too. I advise spending time with friends to decrease levels of -”

“Shut down. Now. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“...Yes, boss.”

When you heard his footsteps crossing the room, you took a small step back and clutched the surely-lukewarm coffee to your stomach. You’d never heard him take such a tone before, always used to that warm, content baritone that rumbled comfortably from deep within his throat. This kind of voice you’d just heard was cold and emotionless, without an ounce of feeling in a single one of his words.

You took a breath and exhaled it softly.

Then, as if he heard it from inside his office, the door was opened at an alarming rate to reveal Miguel on the other side. His brow was furrowed and a line had appeared at the corner of his mouth with his frown, obviously expecting one of his coworkers to be intruding at his door. Yet when his gaze met yours, when his frame towered over your smaller one, he realized just who you were, recognized that gleam in your eyes when you locked stares. His gaze softened like an airbag deflating. That line by his mouth disappeared. His tensed figure slowly relaxed, his shoulders coming down from where they’d been set.

For a short moment, you simply stared at one another. You were forced to admit to yourself that tone he’d spoken with had intimidated you.

It reminded you of the one Ferris used when he cornered you and threatened to take off for good.

Finally, Miguel’s lips parted. “Hey,” he breathed out, like he was trying his damn fucking best not to let that tone leak through to you.

You swallowed and slowly allowed yourself to relax. He wouldn’t ever speak to you like that. You didn’t know how you knew. You could just sense it in the warmth that poured from him, from the gentle honey of his dark eyes, from the way he held himself and carried his weight and set down each step like he knew the outcome of each and every movement he made. “Hi.”

Miguel inhaled, as if he were relieved you decided to speak. “Sorry about that,” he said and gestured over his shoulder into his office. “We’ve been testing out some new AI lately. Throwing it curveballs to see if it can keep up.” A small smile graced his face, close-lipped and sweet. Again, you realized - he never smiled with his teeth. “It hasn’t been going well.”

Like a dam breaking and letting a flood of water into a canal, relief rocketed through your systems and worked to ease your stress. Of course he had been talking to a computer. You doubted he could ever speak to a woman like that, much less anyone else. And that also explained all the wild things they had been discussing. Universes? Some poor chick getting murdered by her fiance?

Just the complicated workings of an out of sorts AI.

“I have to admit, I was wondering,” you let yourself laugh. “But, you know… who am I to question Alchemax’s best geneticist?” You watched in fascination as the corner of his mouth quirked upward and one eye squinted with the smile. God, you could watch him do that all damn day. Suddenly remembering the coffee in your hands, you held it up to him with an embarrassed grin. “I meant to bring you this while it was still hot, but I guess you know how hellish it can be getting a bunch of third graders on a bus.”

He took the cup with a rather confused expression.

“The field trip,” you said and folded your hands in front of you, because you knew if you didn’t, you would surely reach out and touch his face. “It’s today. You signed the permission slip about a month ago.”

Miguel blinked a few times, then took a breath and lifted his face. “Right. Right, sorry. Must have slipped my mind. I’ve - heh.” He shook his head and reached up to scratch at the delicate skin of his throat in that way he did when he spoke to you. “More going on than you would know.”

“Believe me,” you said softly, looking down at your shoes. You thought of dishes still in the sink, and band practices in your living room, and threats of leaving you all on your own because, really, that was truly your worst fear. “I know.”

You thought from there you would smile and turn, say something like, ‘Well, just thought I’d stop by,’ and leave him in the doorway of his office so that he wouldn’t see the yearning swimming in your irises. Maybe if you were feeling bold, you’d reach out and touch his wrist for just a moment before pulling away and practically sprinting back to the elevators.

But when you went to turn, he beat you to all of that. He reached out to touch your upper arm, the tips of his calloused fingers brushing along the fabric of your shirt, and he asked if you’d like to come inside, sit down for a minute. And inside his office, he told you what his department was working on, explained it in ways he knew you would understand. He spoke of a molecular collider that, in theory, would open a doorway to parallel universes.

You could have spent hours sitting in that office that smelled like his cologne, listening to him talk.

But life moved on. You were forced to pull yourself away, travel back downstairs and hold Gabriella’s hand like you hadn’t just thought about Miguel folding you over his desk, hushing your desperate cries, and gripping onto your hips with a hold that would bruise. You were forced to drive home and argue with Ferris about dirty laundry and his new keyboard girl constantly texting him. You were forced to land in the dressing room at The Menagerie, carefully dotting rhinestones to your collarbones in the mirror while the other girls buzzed around you.

“And he brought you flowers, too?” asked Shawna from where she was spread out on the couch across the room. She sighed deeply and hung her head over the armrest. “Girl. When are you going to stop playing and give that little girl of his a new mom?”

“You know why I can’t,” you replied as you pressed a small plastic rhinestone to your skin.

Zara met your eyes in the mirror as she grabbed the back of your chair, already dressed in her colorful, skimpy outfit and her mask. “We know why,” she hissed, but not at you. “That Ferris dude has got you held under the water, babe. Serious ball and chain kind of deal here. You really need to do something.”

If you could have found the strength to, you would have rolled your eyes at their words. But you really couldn’t. You were nothing short of exhausted after the field trip today, so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were unable to keep your eyes open while you were on stage. God, you loved your teaching gig, but sometimes it was so, so stressful. And so was this job. Teaching, dancing, disciplining, teasing. They all collided into one big, neverending hurricane of fatigue.

“Maybe in another universe,” you found yourself mumbling under your breath, remembering everything Miguel had told you about this morning, “I could have been a flower shop keeper.”

Behind you in the mirror, a few of the girls looked at you with strange expressions.

Before you could go back to applying your rhinestones, one of the newer girls entered the room and pushed her mask up so that her face was visible. She looked to you. “Boss said you’re canceled on the stage,” she said, and you hoped for a moment you were going to go home early, before she added, “Guy paid for a private dance in Room 7.”

“Goddammit.” You groaned and leaned forward to rest your forehead on your arms. You were way too fucking tired to do a private dance right now.

“M’sure he won’t be that bad,” said Shawna as she let herself slip further over the arm of the couch.

Grumbling beneath your breath, you stood, finished off your rhinestones the best you could, and slipped your cold porcelain mask over your features. At least like this, your customer wouldn’t be able to see your exhausted eyes and lost expression.

The beating, thrumming music of the club seemed to vibrate your very soul in your chest as you wound your way past patrons and around the stage, sure to throw half-assed smiles at the people you were forced to wiggle past just a bit too close. The short corridor leading to the private rooms were lit with neons, playing with shadows across your costumed form as you found Room 7 and gently knocked on the door. You blinked a few times to clear the blur from your eyes, then cleared your throat and stepped inside.

“Hi, handsome,” you said as you turned to shut the door - your classic line, no matter who the buyer. “How are you doing tonight?” You turned around to face your customer, then came to a complete stop. Even your heart jumped a beat or two.

The man you’d seen in the shadows that night of the robbery, the man with the little scar on his collarbone, had gotten to his feet from his chair when you entered the room. He wore that same spider mask, still had his dark hair slicked back over his head.

You swallowed thick as you felt his eyes traveling over your form behind the gaps in his mask. “Hello… Spiderman.”

He hesitated for a moment, like he was lost on just what to do. “Hey,” he said in an equally soft voice. It was muted in the same way it was behind his spandex mask.

You placed your hands behind your back as you leaned up against the door - and locked it. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“...You asked.”

“Did I?” Putting on your best flirty, coy smile, you slowly crossed the room to meet him. “I thought all I said was… if you stopped by, to ask for me.” You reached out to touch the edge of his shirt, past his dress jacket, and skim your knuckle over the tan skin of his exposed collarbone. That scar sat just where you’d seen it before. “But you’re here.”

“...I’m here.”

There was a soft lilt to his voice, one that you had not heard before. Then again, you hadn’t spoken to him much, just in the bank and on the rooftop. But it seemed long enough to know that it wasn’t normal.

“What’s wrong, Spiderman?” you asked gently, taking a step closer. Your knees brushed against his, and when you gave him a gentle push on the shoulder, he sat back in the chair positioned in the center of the room. You gingerly climbed up so that your knees rested on either side of his thighs, so that your center was just inches above his. You didn’t miss the slight hitch in his breath, the way his eyes widened ever just so behind that spider mask. “Have a bad day? Some criminals get the better of you?”

You knew, in a way, that he wasn’t going to do it himself, so you took his wide, warm hands in your own and rested them on your hips. They stayed there for a long, long moment. Then they moved not down, toward your ass and your core, but up. They felt tentatively along your middle, his thumb tickling your stomach just a bit, and stopped just below your breasts before sliding back down again.

“No,” he replied in a low, raspy voice. He paused when you slowly lowered yourself so that you were seated on his lap now, your hips pressed against his. You felt his thigh twitch beneath your ass. “Pretty good day, actually. Just… heard some bad news.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You hummed, letting your fingers drag along the delicate skin of his throat, just barely shaded with stubble. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

You expected him to hesitate, then make a request. Strip for him. Dance. Whisper in his ear all the things you wanted to do to him.

But there came none of that. Instead of touching you like you were used to, his hands - which were still respectfully resting against your middle - slowly slid across to your back and gently, gingerly, pulled you against him so that you were lying against his front. So that your chests were pressed together. So that you were slumped comfortably in his lap. He held you there against him, one hand on the small of your back and the other on the base of your neck.

“Just this,” he murmured.

You were stunned, to say the least. This was not the first time a customer just wanted to hold, or be held, or anything of the sort. But even then, those touches were desperate and needy, clingy and awkward. But this was everything they were not. This was gentle and considerate, kind and… romantic. Like he didn’t just need to be touched, he needed to be touched by you.

When you inhaled you thought you recognized the scent you breathed in. But with his body so close and his hands holding you so securely, you dismissed it like a runaway thought.

“Here.” Spiderman pulled you back for just a second, raising his fingers up to pull at the ribbon keeping your mask on your face, mindful not to catch any hair. Your breath hitched when he set the monarch mask aside, your face now bare as you stared down at him. This was against the rules. You were not supposed to do this. Customers were not supposed to see your face, know you like this.

But this?

This was far beyond any rules.

Your lips parted and your heart thundering in your chest so loud you were sure he could hear it, you found your own fingers slowly reaching up to graze at his porcelain mask. Your fingertips grazed the edge, began to hitch it up…

He caught your wrist in a hold that was so gentle, yet so commanding, that you immediately let your hand drop. But there was no venomous feeling there, no edge. Just a warning. A soft, quiet warning.

Exhaling, you wrapped your arms around his neck and settled yourself against his wide, powerful frame. Your face nestled itself into the crook of his neck, your chin resting atop his shoulder, as his hands came back to hold your form against his. One of his thumbs glided across your shoulder blade, sending goosebumps rising across your skin.

Gripping onto his jacket collar, you opened your eyes to look at yourself in the mirror that faced the back of the chair. Here you couldn’t see the mask over Spiderman’s face, just his slicked-back hair and his broad shoulders keeping you caged against him. His head tilted toward yours, your temples resting together.

For a moment, in your exhaustion and fatigue, you thought he resembled someone else you knew. But you let the thought pass, instead shutting your eyes and basking in his soft, gentle, perfect touch.

tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick @natthernandez @bakgoktski @soupsexsunsalutationsss @roxannarichie @lovagirlxxx @soggyeyeballsss @yoyoyoyoyo55555 @sophipet @quaintii @lavnderluv @cookiezxx @euphorica @its-a-polyglot @nicalysm @maxi-ride @exzidss @crappwr0m @femme-is-dead @bitch-onthemoon @hier—soir @takayomi @kirke-is-my-name @d1lf-loverrr @might-be-a-rat @brooks-lin @maki-z @bookfreakk @act1839 @dollscircus @sleepingaway @anxietybutterfly @bioticboot @mxkn @freeingrebels @digitalcreature404 @aimee777 @hunnaye @blahbahed @cyanide-mustard @impettywhenyouare @mental-illness-is-my-friend @bobfood

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader #atsv #spiderman 2099

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 20 days ago

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10k+ Milestone Event: ✨ After Ever After ✨

Blog event introduction story here.

(Credit for the wonderful artwork goes to tinyfantasminha!)

For 10k followers in 4 years (the same number of years it generally takes to complete high school), I thought it might be thematically fitting to do a “10 years in the future” themed event!

Here are the general rules:

For the next week (until the 14th!), I’ll be opening my inbox to take headcanon and character interaction requests.

Please note that the characters will be aged up 10 years to fit the theme of this blog event; it’s meant to feel like a class reunion all these years later and you’re catching up on old times! (Requests that don’t fit this theme may not help accepted or will be less prioritized.)

Indicate if platonic or romantic. If you do not specify, I will NOT default to romantic, I will default to platonic.

Gender is not necessary to include; I will assume gender neutral they/them in all cases so everyone is able to comfortably read.

As the regular blog rules state, you can request up to 5 characters for headcanons.

I’d like to limit interactions and short fic requests to 1 main character (though others may be requested as supporting cast or cameo).

Any characters are fair game, including family members, RSA students, Halloween characters, NRC staff, etc.

For interactions, you can submit a request as yourself/the Reader/a general self-insert or as a canon character.

NO FAN KIDS THOUGH, PLEASE 💦 It'll just get too confusing for me to keep track of, sorry!

Note that all other writing request rules apply. This means no NSFW, no OCs, minding the specific triggering topics I have noted, etc,

Also!!

Miss Raven has changed these last 10 years too~! Maybe you should check in with her as well?

I’m also opening up interactions for Miss Raven, who is now the headmaster of NRC.

For the Miss Raven interactions ONLY, you can submit as a general Reader/self-insert, a canon character, or as your Twst OC.

If you are submitting as your OC, I would appreciate some quick background on who the OC is so I’m not going in totally blind ^^

NO FAN KIDS for similar reasons as stated above.

For select individuals (defined by myself; could be mutuals, friends, or just users I recognize), you’ll get a little something extra :DD (It’s a surprise though!! Will be delivered privately when applicable.)

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pinkpigtailsprincess · 8 months ago

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HI ANY TIPS ON BEING THE NEW KID AT A NEW SCHOOL

GENERALLY GETTING ANXIETY ATTACKS LOL

ALSO I LOVE YR BLOG SMM

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ Doll tips! ; Being the New Kid!! 🎀⭐️

Tip #1 ; Taking a Breath now speaking from experience being the new kid at school is very nerve racking ik ive done it so many times and just sitting back and just breathing snd relaxing can definitely help just calm you down!!

Tip #2 ; Making a Good Impression!! now for this one i not saying you have to be the most outgoing person ever bc it can be overwhelming especially if you have social anxiety or you just have trouble with interacting!! but definitely being as polite as possible can definitely help you in the long run!!! ⭐️

Tip #3 ; Don’t be afraid to introduce yourself

now since you are new to the school you may or may not have to introduce yourself and ik how nerve racking this can be but doing a simple “Hi! I’m _” is really good if you don’t wish to speak then a simple smile and wave is also just as good!!!

Tip #4 ; Recruiting Friends!!

if you wanna be friends with a particular person try going up to them and saying hi to them also helping people with something is a way to get to know a person or having desk/table mates is like a gold mine for making friends with people !!!

Tip #5 ; Not Everyone is a nice person

if you can tell someone is a mean person stay away from them have little to no contact with this person its will save you all the energy and time because people like this can be extremely draining trust ik that!

Tip #6 ; Be nice but don’t be a pushover

obviously being nice is ESSENTIAL but never let someone cross your boundaries or disrespect you call them out on it don’t make a huge scene obviously but definitely let them know that you’re setting a boundary and if they cross again then cut this person off because obviously they don’t respect your boundaries!!

Tip #7 ; Don’t be a Bystander!!

if you see someone getting bullied say something about it,defend them or just ask them if they’re okay being a bystander to the problem makes you part of the problem as well!!!

Tip #8 ; Don’t let others bring you down

again with making boundaries never let someone cross you or make snarky remarks call them out on it and remember this person words obviously don’t matter what other people say doesn’t define you

Tip #9 ; Join a Club!!

joining a club can be an amazing way to make friends while also doing something you enjoy and over all its just an amazing activity!!

Tip #10 ; Don’t overshare!!!

unless you genuinely trust a person don’t overshare because people switch up and anything you say can and will be used against you!

Tip #11 ; Have Main Character mindset

even if you have zero confidence fake it till you make it!! walk with good posture and some pep in ur step!!🎀

Tip #12 ; If u have a group assignment don’t do all the work

omg i can’t stress this enough only do your part if someone is failing to do their part don’t do it for them let them fail thats their own fault

Tip #13 ; Being popular isn’t everything!

social hierarchy in high school or middle school (idk what grade ur in im sorry!!) is so bleak okay being popular isn’t everything i mean sure by some chance you’ll be popular but still you don’t HAVE to fit in because ur made to stand out

Tip #14 ; Channel ur inner Elle Woods & Cher Horowitz

* apply ur self in ur academics

* if you need help ask its not a bad thing to need help!!

* Make an Organizer to stay in top of ur work!!

* STUDY!! STUDY!! STUDY!!

* if you have an assignment with a rubric read it carefully to ensure you can get the highest grade possible!!

* if you unhappy with your grade or feel like you should’ve gotten a better one ask your teacher to review!!!

* wear cute clothes and style ur hair neatly not to for the lookism esque obviously but looking ur best and feeling your best are definitely good ways to feel better!!! 🎀⭐️

* have a “what? like its hard?” mindset

* Don’t Judge!!

* Pursue ur dreams!!

* Don’t be afraid of a challenge

* Be yourself!!

Tip #15 ; Don’t Leave people out!!!

say ur in a group setting and you see one particular person being left out and not getting their chance to speak make them feel welcome ask them about what they were gonna say and include them into the conversation!!!

Tip #16 ; Eat what makes you happy and don’t yuck someones yum

if someone has a cultural dish for their lunch DON’T EVER make them feel bad about it don’t care what it is that loser behavior! also eat the kind of food that makes you feel good inside and that nourishes your body i definitely suggest packing a lunch the night before!!!

Tip #17 ; Don’t hang around Slackers!!

be friends with people that actually apply themselves in their academic and working for what they want!!!

I love you anon i hope you do AMAZING at ur new school!!! 🎀⭐️

#the advice column with dolly 🎀⭐️#it girl #wonyoungism #self care #self improvement #self love #elle woods #cher horowitz #dream girl #pink pilates princess #dollygirl #dolly #2sweet2eat🎀🧁#girl blog aesthetic #girl blogging

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jessicaloons · 2 months ago

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Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince:

Chapter 1

Masterlist - Previous - Next

Miss Americana

May 2019:

"And you’re sure you can handle it? I mean working here and college?" Peter Hastings was a nice, middle aged man, looking for a new nanny for his 6 year old son, Gabriel.

"I’ll wake him up at 7:15. Make breakfast and get him ready for school, drop him off at 8:30 and go to my classes. At 3 I’ll pick him up. Help him with his homework. Soccer on Monday and Wednesday. Piano lesson on Tuesday. Prepare dinner. Make him bed ready and then you’ll take over. Monday till Thursday. Fridays I’ll pick him up at 12. We’re going to the park, museum, zoo whatever. Have lunch and I’ll bring him home by 4, where you take over. And if you need a babysitter on the weekends, you’ll call me." Rachel repeated the schedule Mr. Hastings had presented her with, hoping he would hire her.

"Impressive. Well your report looks great, I understand why you’ve got a scholarship for the MCPHS. I’d say you’ve got the job." Mr. Hastings smiled at the girl.

"Thank you, Sir! Really!"

"Gabriel liked you, you have strong ambitions. I think you’re perfect. Now let’s talk money, shall we?" he clapped his hands and Rachel nodded.

With a full scholarship and a well paid job that still gave her enough time for her studies, she could start saving up money to get the hell out of Woburn, after graduating from college with her nursing degree hopefully.

"I know this was not what you applied for, but I’ll ask anyways, if you say no, you’ll still keep your job starting in fall!" her new boss said and she looked up "My current nanny, well she left, family emergency, so I would need someone from now on, during the summer until you’ll take over at the end of August. I know, you just graduated and probably already planned your summer, but I thought I ask anyways. Again, feel free to say no, the job is yours regardless. It’s only one more month of school and then it’s… well a full day job, I’m off for the entire August, but before that I’m loaded with events here and there…"

"I’ll do it." Rachel said immediately, every reason to leave Woburn earlier was a good reason.

"Yeah? You sure? I mean like I said, you don’t have to!" Mr. Hastings said but the girl shook her head.

"No it’s fine. Really. I have nothing planned. And like this I can get used to Boston."

"You can stay here. Our old nanny has her own studio in the backyard. That way you don’t have to drive every morning from Woburn to here."

"Are you sure? It’s no problem for me to drive!"

"With traffic in the morning you’ll be in the car for an hour or longer. That’s ridiculous. Come on I’ll show you the studio. You could even stay there when you start college. Thinking back to my college times? The dorms weren’t the nicest place to stay." he laughed and got up, leading the young girl outside through the kitchen.

"I mean. I haven’t seen my dorm yet… but from what I’ve heard, yeah, not the nicest place to stay indeed."

The studio was clean and modern. A kitchenette, a table with two chairs. Sofa, TV and a bed. A little bathroom. It was definitely more quiet and private than any dorm at her college.

"Are you sure it’s okay?" the girl asked.

"100%. It’s yours if you want it. Free of charge. You just have to keep it clean yourself. And if you want to bring friends over, just give me a little heads up."

Free of charge. The money she would safe. Only paying the tuition fee. The rest of her scholarship could go into her savings as well. She could leave home earlier than planned. It couldn’t get better than this.

"I guess I’m moving in then."

November 2021:

Rachel always dreaded driving home. The rare occasions over the past 2 years where she had driven home were all proof why it was better to stay away. But something in her father’s voice when he asked her if she would come home for his birthday gave her the chills. When she parked her car in the driveway of her rundown childhood home, she felt the pit in her stomach grow. Calming down her nerves she opened up the door, walking inside. The house smelt rancid. A mix of liquor, smoke and bleach.

"Dad?" the girl walked inside the dark living room when suddenly the light got switched on. She flinched looking at the man sitting in the armchair facing her.

"If it’s not Miss Americana fresh off of college." Tony.

"Where’s my dad?" her voice not as strong as she hoped.

"Come." he got up and dragged her outside with him.

"Stop. Tony! Let go of me!" Rachel tried to get away from him.

"Get in the car. You can do it on your own or I’ll make you." his jaw clenched.

The girl got inside. Shaking.

"Where’s my dad?" she repeated.

"Your dad… he pissed off a lot of people… he was a capo once… but his drinking? Mamma Mia… he became useless the day your mother died… fallen from capo to soldato… and now? A shame really…" he sneered.

"What did he do?" Rachel asked with a shaking voice.

"Oh bella, you know I can’t tell you. Otherwise I’d have to kill you. And I really don’t want to kill such a pretty girl." he laughed and the girl swallowed hard "Just know that he owes a lot of people a lot of money…"

They drove to Winchester and the girl knew immediately where they were going.

"When was the last time you were here? When your mother died?" he asked, although he didn’t sound one bit empathetic "A long time ago… then again, it’s never a good sign if you have to go to Winchester… our family parties are usually held somewhere else…"

The driveway up the hill to the dark manor made Rachel’s insides churn.

"Get out." Tony parked the car and she did as told, following him inside.

"Oh Rachel! Mia bellissima ragazza! Look at you! What a beautiful, beautiful young lady! You should look for a girl like her, Anthony, not the skanks you’re going for." Rosaria Romano pulled Rachel in her arms, before kissing her cheeks "The last time I saw you was before you left for college and now look at you! You’re skinny! Don’t they feed you well at college? All the money they take and then not feeding their students? Che cavolo! You’re staying for dinner! Anthony, tell your father I’m feeding this sweet girl first, before he can talk to her!"

"Mamma! She’s not here to eat!" Tony grabbed the girls arm, but he shrugged away under the cold, hard gaze of his mother. He rolled his eyes, walking away, cursing in Italian.

"Now come, mia ragazza, you can help me with dinner." Rosaria lead her into the kitchen where already a handful of women were cooking away "Here, put that on. We don’t want your beautiful outfit to get stained with pomodori!"

The next hour Rachel cooked together with the ladies, told them about college and how her life was going. She knew all too well that she couldn’t tell them everything. Giving away too much was dangerous, so she lied mostly.

"And what about the boys at college? Someone special there for you?" nonna Viola asked right as Tony came back.

"She’s coming with me now." he grabbed Rachel’s arm, pulling her with him. A muscle ticked at his jaw. His hold on her arm made her whimper in pain.

"Anthony! You hurt her! Stop! Don’t make me swing my mattarello at you!" nonna Viola raised her rolling pin and Anthony let go of the girls arm "There you go, stupido!"

"Come." he glared at the girl who took off the apron, handing it Rosaria.

"When the men have finished whatever their having to talk about now, we’re finishing our conversation, Rachel." she smiled and Rachel nodded.

As she followed Tony down a long, dark hallway the bad feeling she had, since hearing her father’s voice on the phone earlier that day, only intensified.

When they stopped in front of a big oak door Tony pushed Rachel hard against it, caving her in. His nose rubbing down her cheek. His breath reeked of smoke and liquor.

"You won’t like what’s happening next and let me tell you, I understand you. But then again… mhhh look at you." he whispered in her ear, making the girl shudder "My mother wasn’t that wrong, I should go for a girl like you…"

"Anthony?" Don Vito’s cold voice rang out through the door.

"We’re here, papa!" Tony said with a sadistic grin.

"Bring her in then. We have a lot to do."

January 2022:

"Miss Lombardi? Miss Lombardi!" the screeching voice of Professor Cullers made Rachel flinch "Ah great. You are with us again… well, do you know the answer, to Miss Edwards question?"

"I- umm… I don’t. No." the girl looked at her professor "Sorry."

"Maybe stop daydreaming then and start listening to what I’m teaching you."

"Yes, ma’am." she nodded.

The rest of the class Rachel kept writing down everything Professor Cullers said, listening carefully and when the bell rang she was one of the last to leave.

"What’s going on with you?" Stuart asked, waiting at the door for her.

"What do you mean?" they walked side by side to their next course.

"You’re absent. Pretty often. For weeks now…"

"It’s nothing. I’m fine. I promise." Rachel faked a smile and Stuart sighed.

"Ok, cut the crap. What’s going on? Since you left for your father’s birthday a couple of weeks ago, you’re acting strange… what happened at home Rachel?" he looked at her and she took a deep breath, shaking her head.

Stuart was the only friend she made in college, he didn’t talk much, but there was a sense of understanding between the two after she accidentally overheard a conversation between him and a stranger behind the cafeteria one day. Rachel since knew that their backstory was similar and that he broke off all ties to his old life. He would understand her, if she told him what happened. But then again, she knew that she might endanger him if she told him too much.

"How hard was it? Leaving everything behind? Cutting off all ties to your family?" she asked instead and Stuart contemplated his answer for a moment.

"It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure. But I had to do it, so I powered through…"

"But I mean… how did you do it? Where did you get your new identity from? What happened to your old one?" the blonde girl pressed.

"I know a guy who knows a guy… but it costs a lot… also, starting a new life somewhere new isn’t for free either."

Rachel thought for a second, all the money she saved from her scholarship so far, because she only had to pay for the tuition fee and work materials. All the money she saved from working for Peter, which she barely had touched. It was a nice little sum and should keep her afloat for a while.

"Why are you asking me all this? What happened?" Stuart asked again and Rachel sighed "You can tell me, Rach. Nothing you can say will scare me away… I know how you grew up… I know how it is… so come on, tell me."

"I need to leave. Like for real… I always planned on moving to Boston after college, but they won’t let me… I only have time after graduation and then my old life will catch up with me again… I will be pulled into this mess that my life is if I don’t run away." Rachel almost whispered and her friend looked at her wide eyed "They wanted me to leave college immediately but I managed to convince them that a nurse with a degree and all qualifications is more helpful, more useful for them, so they agreed, but as soon as I graduate they will take me back to Woburn or rather Winchester… I can’t go back, Stuart…"

"And you shouldn’t have to go back, but Rach this is a dangerous thing to do? Killing off your old self, start a new life… it’s going to cost you more than just money…" Stuart said and Rachel nodded.

"I’m willing to do whatever it takes…" the young girl said determined.

"Then I’ll help you. But it won’t be easy…"

"Everything is better than staying here…"

"I need to make a few calls, then we’ll see." Stuart smiled at her.

"Thanks Stu. You’re a good friend." Rachel squeezed his hand.

"I’m currently your only friend… so that’s that."

"True…"

April 2022:

"Rachel? There’s a letter for you!"

"Thanks, Peter!" the girl took the letter from the counter, while stirring the pasta sauce "Waterman and Krieger? What is that?" she asked when she saw the sender of the letter.

"They’re a law firm. Inheritance law if I’m not mistaken." Peter looked up from his newspaper.

"Inheritance law?" Rachel ripped the envelope open, unfolding the letter. She went silent, staring at the letter, the pasta sauce bubbling.

"Rach? Hey? Rach?" Peter grabbed the sauce pan and shoved it off the stove top "What happened?" he looked at the girl worriedly.

"My- umm… my mom… she left me some money…" Rachel said slowly, looking at Peter "They write that mom set up a trust fund for me before her death. I have access to the money when I turn 21. Which is in three months."

"Oh wow…" Peter squeezed her shoulder "Do you need a moment? I can finish up dinner and I’ll send Gabe to get you when it’s ready?"

"Is that okay?" the brunette asked and he nodded "Thank you."

Back in her studio she looked at the letter and saw that there was also another smaller envelope inside. She knew the handwriting immediately.

My sweet Rachel,

when you read this letter it means I am no longer around to gift you with my last treasure.

Every money I earned from winning beauty pageants and later from working and that wasn’t needed, I put aside for you.

I know you’re a smart girl and every college would offer you a full scholarship, but just to make sure that if not, we have the money.

I never told your dad about this money, I was too afraid that he would use it. Your father is a great man and I love him dearly. But he’s surrounded himself with the wrong people, they poisoned his mind. And over time he had to drink more and more to forget what he had to do daily for Don Vito.

Please don’t tell him about the money. Keep it to yourself. It’s enough for a fresh start, if you know what I mean.

I’m sorry, that I couldn’t be by your side for longer. That I couldn’t give you the home that you deserved.

Promise me to live a good life. Go live your dreams. But please never forget that I love you, my little Miss Americana.

Love always,

Mom

Rachel leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. When her mother died, she felt lost, didn’t know how to move forward, didn’t know how to continue with her life. Her father lost himself in alcohol, maybe even drugs. He disappeared for days, just to be laid down on the front porch by some of the men he worked with and for Rachel to get him inside, making sure he wouldn’t choke on his own vomit. She knew what he was doing. She knew who he worked for. From the day she was born she was part of a world she never wanted to be in, as she later realised. Movies and pop culture didn’t do this life justice. It wasn’t glorious or mysterious. It was scary and dark. Where other kids her age went to school and made new friends Rachel always had to stick to the kids from the family. To make sure she wouldn’t spill anything about her father’s work. Her mother had to fight hard with her husband to allow her to take Rachel to beauty pageants, after the little girl watched her mother getting dolled up for numerous pageants herself and wanting to be just like her when she was older. Rachel was talented, just like her mother. Her beauty apparent from a young age and it didn’t take long for her to win her first pageant. She loved competing in pageants. But what she loved even more was the time she spent with her mother. She was always so carefree and happy at the contests, a stark contrast to her usually quiet and almost depressed personality at home. She was always trying to not show Rachel how sad and worried she really was, but unfortunately it didn’t work out and Rachel had asked her more than once what was going on and why she was so sad.

"It’s nothing, my little Miss Americana, grown up stuff, nothing to worry about for you, my pretty girl." she had always said, followed by a kiss on Rachel’s forehead and a "I love you, my Rachel."

But with every year she got older she figured out more and more why her mother was so sad. And why the only times she was happy, careless and free, was when they went to pageants together. Because for a short while she could forget in what danger she was living with her daughter. What her husband did for a living. And the fear of the day where she, or worse Rachel, would have to pay the price of her husband’s job.

Ultimately she paid the price. After Rachel won the Miss Teen USA pageant in September 2016, and she had floated on cloud 9, her mother decided she deserved a treat and on the way home from Boston, where the pageant was held, she stopped at a little diner.

Rachel remembered how her mother ordered a strawberry milkshake and fries, she herself got a chocolate milkshake and fries and as soon as their food had arrived her mother looked around, a big grin on her lips before she nodded.

"No one’s watching… go!" she chimed and began dipping her fries into her milkshake.

Rachel laughed but did the same. Her father was always grossed out when his wife and daughter did that, laughing at them for their craziness, saying they better watch out or the food police would arrest them.

They were so happy that evening, her mother saying a million times how proud she was of her and what amazing and exciting times were ahead now for Rachel. But that happiness was gone in an instant when 2 men entered the dinner and her mother’s face turned to stone. She stopped laughing and looked at her daughter, shaking her head. To not draw any attention to them she silently held up her hand when the waitress looked over to them, signalling for her to come over. Paying in silence Rachel’s mother took her by the hand, guiding her outside, back into the car where she locked to doors immediately, starting the engine. She remembered how her mother called her father, telling him that two of Volkov’s men were at the diner. But before she could say anything she looked into the rear view mirror, her face turning pale when she told her husband that they were being followed. It didn’t take long for her mother to speed down the main road leading into Woburn, faster than ever before in her entire life. On speaker Rachel’s father telling her that their men were already on the way. But it was too late. She felt her mother grab onto her hand, clutching it tightly in her own, when the car was hit with something and soared through the air. She closed her eyes, holding onto the grab handle, listening to the sounds around her, when a searing pain shot through her left thigh. The pain was mind numbing and she tried her best to not focus on it. She tried to listen to the sounds around her but after a short while she only heard her own blood rushing into her ears. Then she felt her mother squeezing her hand and she opened her eyes, her first look was on the bright digital watch in the dashboard, then her mother squeezed her hand again and Rachel turned her head a little, looking at her.

"I’m so sorry, my beautiful Rachel. I love you so much." her final words as Rachel later had to find out.

After that night her father was never the same again. After that night Rachel was never the same again. She had to stay in the hospital for a couple of days, the doctors all confident that with the right care the wound on her right thigh, caused by an open break of her femur, would heal without leaving a big scar, so she could still compete in beauty pageants. But to her it didn’t matter. Without her mother she didn’t plan on continuing. And because of her not responding to any of the calls, mails or letters from the Miss Teen USA committee, regarding her upcoming tour through the United States, they stripped her off her title 6 weeks later, appointing her runner up, Caitlyn Summers, as new Miss Teen USA 2016.

Rachel absentmindedly rubbed her thigh, feeling the scarred skin through the thin fabric of her leggings. A reminder of the night that changed her life forever. That destroyed her life forever. She had to blink away tears, wiping her cheeks when Gabe knocked on the door, making her flinch.

"Rach! Dinner is ready!" his happy voice sounded through the door and the young girl cleared her throat.

"I’m coming in a minute Gabe!" she replied and listened to the sound of his steps on the gravel.

Rachel got up and looked into the mirror, wiping away the last remaining tears. It had been a while since she thought back to that night. The memories still too hurtful and real. After a minute of composure she followed Gabe back into the main house trying her best to not show the emotional turmoil she was feeling.

When Rachel went to bed that night she felt exhausted, drained, but also determined. Determined to escape her life in Woburn. Or Winchester. Escape her family. Live a happy life, just like her mother wanted her to. She would honour her mother’s last wish, give her all to do so. No matter what.

Chapter 1 - and that’s it. First chapter done. I tried something new this time, writing this story from a third-person perspective and also switching between Miss Americana/The Heartbreak Prince centred chapters. I hope you like it! Let me know what you think! 🩷💜

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@glitterquadricorn @lottalove4evelyn @janeh22 @itsjustkhaos

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klaus-littlestwolf · 1 year ago

Note

Can you please do anal with Klaus and Y/n

Or something like that

Maybe klaus fucks her with a vibrator up her ass

Of course if you’re uncomfortable I understand, after reading the highschool klaus I thought you might be someone who would write it

Modern!Highschool Klaus M. Pt.4

Warning: Smut! Anal sex, Squirting, Dirty talk, and tooth rotting levels of Dd/Lg sweetness from Daddy!Klaus

Masterlist

‘Okay, let’s go mail them!’ Y/n grinned, hopping up and down excitedly, somehow she was more excited about me going to Art school than I was.

‘I still don’t like that you paid for this, I-‘

‘You need to let it go Daddy, I’ve already paid for your applications and it’s only to 3 schools. All of which you’re going to get in so it’ll be worth it!’

We’ve been together for a week now and in the last week Y/n has insisted I apply to art schools that I’m never going to get into. I know that she wants me to pursue my dream but I don’t know if I can take the rejection. All of the schools I would consider going to are extremely prestigious and competitive, they also only accept 150 kids every year but she insists that I try. I agreed to 3 of the applications of which she has helped me with the past few days, my top school however I refused to even apply. The price for the application was 150 dollars and Y/n had paid for the 3 I was sending already which cost 120. I hate her spending money on me, I should be spoiling her, that’s my job as her boyfriend, then again her parents gave her money instead of caring for her so she really didn’t need me to.

‘I love how optimistic you are for me Babygirl.’ I loved that she believed in me so much, though I hated how much she doubted herself. She had gone on and on to me about how dumb she is and I assumed she was failing out of school when she has a 3.8 GPA, however I convinced her to apply to schools in the same areas as the ones I am, with any luck we will get to at least be close if not get an apartment together.

‘I’m not optimistic, I’m realistic! You’re fucking talented Daddy, they would be stupid as fuck not to pick you!’ God I love this girl.

After mailing the applications for the both of us we ended up back at my house where Y/n had been staying with me for 4 days straight now.

‘You realize it’s going to be your fourth night staying here in a row, right?’ I questioned and she looked up at me from where she had sat on my bed, pulling out her math book.

‘Yeah…?’

‘Don’t you think we should talk about that?’ I changed into a pair of sweats and removed my shirt, getting comfortable to not do anything for the rest of the night since it was Friday and we could lounge around the entire weekend.

‘Oh…um, okay. I mean, I can go. I didn’t realize that you-‘

‘What? No! Y/n, no! I mean we should talk about you bringing stuff here if you’re going to be staying from now on. I can move some stuff and you can have a couple of drawers, you can bring your shampoo and shit so you don’t keep going home to shower. The shower thing is becoming very inconvenient as I would very much like to take a shower with my girlfriend, we are doing that tomorrow whether you like it or not.’ I teased, pushing her back onto the bed and lifting her legs and wrapping them around my waist as I crawled over top of her.

‘Is that right?’

‘Yes, it is.’ Her eyebrows went up before I leaned into her neck, sucking a dark red mark onto her skin.

‘I suppose I’ll just have to get used to the idea then, won’t I?’ I grunted an affirmation while continuing to kiss her neck, trailing my hands up under her shirt. ‘We can go and I’ll pack a bag tomorrow if you’re okay with it. My parents won’t care, probably won’t even notice if I’m perfectly honest.’ She said it as if it was normal and she didn’t care but I knew deep down it bothered her a lot that her parents didn’t give a shit about her. ‘My god you’re a fucking horn dog!’ She teased, feeling my hard cock pressing against her pussy.

‘Yes, we know this. I’m a 17 year old boy, it’s common sense to assume that…I love you.’ I had previously told her that I love her in passing, teasingly but also serious however she looked at me shocked as she could feel how deeply I meant it.

‘Nik-‘

‘I love you. I’m sorry you don’t have enough people telling you that because you deserve it and it’s their loss that they don’t get to know what an amazing, generous and wonderful girl you are but I love you Y/n.’ She nodded slowly as if taking it in before a huge smile overtook her face.

‘I love you too Nik. I love you so much.’ She pulled me down to press her lips to mine hard. ‘You know what else?’ She asked against my lips and I pulled back to look at her.

‘What?’

‘I trust you.’ I felt honored by that, I know she has a hard time trusting people so to know she trusts me is a wonderful feeling.

‘I trust you too, and I would never hurt you. You’re my Princess.’ I trailed my lips down her neck, continuing to suck marks there knowing how much she loves and hates it, constantly having to cover them with makeup.

‘Maybe we try something new tonight?’

‘Mmm, like what?’ We’d only been together a week but we’d proved to be a very horny and adventurous couple. I couldn’t imagine what she meant by that.

‘Like maybe another hole?’ She whispered as I continued sucking on her skin until my brain caught up to her words and I pulled back, looking down at her in shock.

‘Really? You-you want to-I would need to stretch you out first.’ She shook her head, taking my hand and bringing it down to her pussy, my fingers grazing something against her asshole and I quickly realized something was already stretching her little hole out for me. ‘Fuck!’ I practically ripped her shorts and panties from her body to see the green jewel on the end of the butt plug that she knew was my favorite color. ‘You’re so fucking perfect, you know that? Are…are you sure?’ She nodded, grinning excitedly and I didn’t need to ask again, pulling my sweats and boxers down before moving to grab the lube I had in my drawer. I placed the bottle beside me before leaning down, ready to shove my face into her cunt when she pulled on my hair.

‘If you want to do that later, fine, but I have had a butt plug in my ass for almost 2 hours, and I’m already dripping. If you don’t fuck me now, I swear to God, someone is going to!’ Her tone was playful but I could tell how serious she really was and I growled, pulling the green jewel from her ass and hearing her whimper as it popped free.

‘Fuck!’ I cursed, seeing her hole open slightly and quickly squirting the bottle on my fingers, pushing them into her and feeling how tight she still was before practically filling my hand with it and lathering my cock in the slick substance. ‘You tell me to stop and I will, okay?’ She nodded firmly, determination covering her face as I lined my cock up with her hole and began pushing in, hissing at the tight squeeze. I had thought her pussy would kill me when I fucked her the first time, and now as I pushed all the way into her hole I’m thinking I may be reincarnated during this she’s so damn tight. ‘GodDammit! How many times have you done this?! Fuck you’re tight!’

‘Never…’ she whimpered and I froze, looking down at her in shock. I had just assumed, clearly incorrectly, that she had tried everything with James…and here I am in her ass for the first time.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that-‘

‘Don’t make it a big deal, I never trusted him…I love you Nik.’

I just stared at her for a moment in shock. It was one of the very few times she didn’t call me “Daddy” while I’m inside of her and it gave me butterflies in my stomach. ‘Y/n, I…my God Princess, I love you so fucking much!’ I leaned down to press my lips to hers and as I did we both cried out at the pressure.

‘I wish it had always been you, wish I could have given you my virginity-‘ I covered her mouth with my hand, resting my forehead onto hers as I took a deep breath.

‘You’ve given me everything that means anything Y/n, virginity is a fake construct created by men to shame women. You’ve given me your love and trust, your body is just a plus…a fantastic plus that I’m deeply in love with-‘ she smacked my ass as I teased her and made her giggle which only made me grunt as she squeezed my cock when she laughed. ‘Okay. Breathe.’ She nodded as I leaned on my arms and pulled back out of her, pushing back in again and not being able to stop the smile as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. ‘You’re so fucking beautiful.’ I pushed back in 2 more times before speeding my pace up a bit as she began to start moving as well, relaxing under me as she grew used to the new feeling and wrapped her arms around my neck.

‘Yes Daddy! Your cock feels so good! Ahh!’ I knew I wasn’t going to last long and I was determined to make her cum before I did, also knowing we would definitely be doing this again.

‘Are you gonna cum for Daddy, Princess? You gonna cum from Daddy fucking this tight little hole?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Yeah? Daddy’s fucking your tiny babyhole right now, I know that makes you want to cum! You need it!’ My hands gripped her thighs and lifted her legs up, pushing them onto my shoulders and she wailed! I shoved into her once more before her back arched and she squirt all over my lower body and the blanket which was the single sexiest thing I believe I had ever fucking seen and not a second later I was cumming right along side her, filling her asshole as full as I possibly could, crashing our lips together as we came.

I couldn’t tell you how long we stayed in that position, unable to move until I felt her shiver against me. Being covered in cum in a basement with the air conditioner on is a bad combination, however I keep it on almost always as Y/n likes to sleep in the cold and be able to snuggle into my warm body under heavy, fuzzy blankets. It makes me feel like I’m in the arctic sometimes but I like how happy she is when we cuddle under 6 Sherpa blankets with a heavy comforter on top.

‘Hold on gorgeous, hold on.’ I pulled myself out of her gently and moved to the bathroom, washing my cock off from the pint of lube and cum before getting a wet cloth. I grabbed 2 pairs of my boxers and 2 shirts before quickly cleaning her off as well.

‘Don’t feel gorgeous, feel sticky.’ She mumbled, grimacing as I wiped her thighs, before sighing.

‘Well you are, gorgeous as always. Daddy’s perfect Babygirl. You’re the most perfect girl that’s ever walked this earth and I am the luckiest man in existence that you’ve decided that I am worthy of getting to love you.’ Her face blushed a deep red and I loved seeing how flustered she got when I said things like that. She deserved all the love in the world and for some reason she had never gotten any until me, so I will be making sure she knows how perfect she is every chance I get. ‘How do you feel? I didn’t harm you, did I?’ I wondered, lifting her legs and maneuvering the boxers up her body to cover her before sitting her up and pulling the shirt over her arms and head.

‘No Nik, I’m okay. A little sore but totally fine, wonderful, absolutely perfect! My Daddy made me feel so good! I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before.’

‘Well that’s good, because you squirt all over me.’ I smiled, kissing her nose before seeing her eyes widen and quickly pressed our lips together before she could do something stupid like apologize to me. ‘It was hot, I would say the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen but I think watching my cock push into your asshole has to be the sexiest thing.’ I brushed her hair out with the brush on the bedside table before putting it up for her and removing the damp blanket on top of the bed that we had been on, laying a new one on top and crawling in beside her.

‘I love you Daddy…promise me we’re going to be together forever.’

I pulled her close, resting her head on my chest and kissed her head, my hand rubbing up her back. ‘I promise Baby, it’s you and me, Always and Forever.’

4 Months Later

‘Nik! Where are you?!’ I heard Y/n call from the front door. She had officially moved in a week after moving her stuff into my room and after seeing how much of an effect she had on me my mother didn’t mind at all, loving my girlfriend like her own child nearly instantaneously.

‘Kitchen with Elijah and Kol!’ I shouted back, pulling the potatoes out of the oven and finishing playing up our dinner for the night before my brothers tore into the rest.

‘Hey.’ She greeted, pulling me close and kissing me excitedly. ‘I have something for you.’ She told me, holding up a letter.

We had gotten all of our college letters back last week and surprisingly I had been accepted to all of them like she said I would and we had decided on Columbia university. It had an amazing arts program and she was accepted to a school not far, but as she seemed to be holding up a college admissions letter I was confused.

‘What’s this? I got all my school letters back.’ I said just as Rebekah walked in, hugging Y/n in greeting, they had become very good friends despite my pleading them not to.

‘What’s this about school? I thought you got accepted.’

‘I did…what did you do?’ I questioned her and now everyone was looking at us.

‘Well you adamantly refused to apply to the school you wanted to go to most of all and so I paid to get the admissions forms and forged your application. All I had to do was fill in your information and make a portfolio of 20 of your most recent pieces. I picked my favorites…I used my painting as well.’ She blushed and I just stared at her for a moment.

‘That cost $150 Y/n! I told you I didn’t want to do that and you picked paintings I didn’t want to use on top of that?! Why would you-‘ I huffed out a sigh, running my fingers through my hair and turning away to put the dirty dishes in the sink.

‘Rhode Island School of Design.’ Elijah read, having taken it from her.

‘He’s afraid he won’t get into his dream school so he pretended that the price was the reason he didn’t apply.’ She told him and I turned around, glaring.

‘You Spent $150 Dollars On Me For A Rejection Letter!’ She flinched and I instantly relaxed my body as much as I could, never wanting her to be afraid of me. ‘Why would you do this? I told you I wasn’t going to apply and you fought for it but I still said ‘no’. Why would-‘

‘You’ve been accepted.’ Elijah spoke and I spun to look at him, staring for about 5 seconds before snatching the letter and reading over it to see that he was right. It read that they were impressed with my assortment of unique art pieces.

‘I got accepted to a college about 5 miles away if that’s any help in making your decision for-‘ I cut her off by shoving my lips to hers roughly and hugging her to my body, face in my neck.

‘I’m so sorry. Thank you Y/n. Thank you!’ I took hold of her face in my hands and felt like I fell in love with her smiling face all over again. ‘You believed in me when I didn’t, this whole time. I still don’t like you spending money on me but…thank you. Looks like we’re going to Rhode Island next year.’

‘Damn straight Art Nerd, you ain’t goin’ without me! All those art nerd girls, can’t have you being stolen away.’ She teased.

‘Not a chance in Hell Princess. You’re mine. Always and Forever.’

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inthe-dark-tonight · 1 year ago

Text

Falling Into My Sins

chapter three: balled up fists

dbf!joel x fem!reader series - loosely inspired by the song skin by soccer mommy

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7

summary: tommy and joel walk into your new job and you decide to confront joel about the events that took place at sunday night dinner. the only thing is, joel isn't alone.

word count: 2.5k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no outbreak AU, age gap (reader is in their 20s, Joel is in his 40s) no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, tommy and reader flirt a little, player!joel, joel being a gaslighter sorry, ANGST, theres one part where joel grabs readers wrist kinda roughly bc she’s… doing something so be aware of that, if i’m missing anything let me know!!

notes: okayyyyy here we go, i don’t want to spoil anything so… let me know what you guys think of this chapter :) thank you again to my love @shatteredbaby for proofreading for me again, i owe you my life mwah. can't forget my literal mother @pr0ximamidnight for letting me ramble for hours <3

It’s Friday morning now and Joel never got back to you. You didn’t send another text after your last one, afraid that you would seem desperate or annoying. You’ve been busy this week anyway so you try not to let it bother you.

One of the jobs you applied for finally called back, so you went in for an interview on Tuesday morning and they already have you working your first shift tonight. It’s a waitressing job, which isn’t exactly what you were hoping for, but you applied for anything and everything, just happy to be working again. It will also be good to get your mind off of everything that’s happened last weekend.

You finish getting ready for work. Your shift starts in about an hour but you want to be early for your first day. As you leave your room, you grab your purse and your apron before running down the stairs. Your dad’s in the living room and you shout out to him.

“I’m leaving! I’m not off until midnight so see you tomorrow!”

“See ya bud, have fun!” He shouts back.

You shut the door behind you and walk down your front steps to your car. As you walk to your car, you glance across the street towards Joel’s house. His truck isn’t in the driveway. You haven’t seen him at all this week, not even a quick glimpse as he was leaving for work or coming home. You saw Sarah come home from school a few times, but no Joel.

You get into your car and turn the radio on, trying to shake the memory of the other night from your mind. You pull away, past Joel’s house and out of the neighborhood. The job you got is at a local diner near your house. Unfortunately though, it’s a 24hr diner which means you’ll probably be working nights most of the time but you’re just happy to be working again.

You pull up to the diner and step out of your car, grabbing your purse and tying your black apron around your waist. The one good thing about this job is that the dress code is simple, all black. You walk in and one of the other waitresses, Betty, greets you as you walk up to the counter.

“Hi hon, welcome to work!” She smiles at you.

She's an older woman, probably in her late fifties, and she’s very friendly. She was here the day of your interview and she chatted with you as you sat waiting for the manager to be ready for you.

“Hi” you smile shyly at her.

“I’m gonna be training you tonight,” she starts. “There isn’t a lot to learn, I think you’ll get the hang of it easily so I’m just kinda here if you need any help.”

You nod your head and follow her behind the counter. She takes about fifteen minutes to show you the ropes, how to use the register and things of that sort.

“Okay well,” she starts taking a deep breath. “I think you got this, I trust ya.” She winks at you. “It’s gonna be pretty slow for the next few hours, just watch the counter for now, I’ll handle any tables that come in.”

You nod, acknowledging that you understand and then she walks into the back. You look around the diner noticing that there’s practically nobody in there. One booth in the back corner is occupied by an older man reading the paper and sipping on a black coffee, but that’s it.

About an hour later you hear the bell on the door jingle as someone enters the diner. Your head whips towards the door and you see a familiar face, Tommy Miller. His face lights up as his eyes meet with yours and he walks towards the counter.

“Hey,” he glances around the empty diner, then his eyes land back on you. “Guess you heard back from some of the application’s you sent out huh?”

“Hi,” you laugh a little at his comment. “Yeah uh, I did. Today’s my first day actually.”

He takes a seat at the counter and you hand him a menu. “Does that make me your first customer?” he raises his brow and smiles at you.

“Yeah actually.”

“Hmmm, I’ll have to test ya then.” He opens the menu.

You let out a small laugh “Can I get you anything? Coffee?” You watch as Tommy glances over the menu.

He doesn’t look up at you. “Yeah actually, I’ll take a coffee while I wait.”

Wait for what? You don’t ask. You walk to grab the coffee pot and a mug, setting it down to fill it in front of him.

“Thanks darlin’,” he looks up at you and your cheeks heat up.

“No problem, let me know when you’re ready.” You turn around to replace the coffee pot.

Suddenly the doors open again, you hear the bell but you don’t turn around to look until you hear a woman laughing. You look up and your face immediately drops.

It’s Joel Miller, and his arm is wrapped around some woman as they walk towards a booth. He doesn’t see you yet as he slides into a booth by the window, sitting on the side that faces you. Tommy turns his head glancing at him, then turns back to you.

“Christ, when I told him to meet me after his date I didn’t think he’d bring the woman along.” Tommy rolls his eyes.

Joel was on a date? You just hum in response, not sure what to say. You look back towards Joel, he’s smiling as he leans on the table. Once his eyes meet with yours his smile disappears. You immediately snap your eyes away from him and focus back on Tommy.

“Ready?” You smile at him.

He looks up at you giving you a cheeky grin “Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck as he talks. “Gonna keep it simple I think, just a burger and fries.”

You jot it down on your pad and then quickly rip the paper off. “You got it.” You wink at him, eyes meeting with Joel’s for a quick second before you turn around to place the order with the line cooks.

When you turn around, Tommy’s cheeks are slightly flushed. Then you see Betty come out from the back and walk towards Joel’s table to take their order. You try not to stare as you try to catch a better glimpse at the woman he’s here with. She has long blonde wavy hair, and as she turns her head to say something to Betty you catch a glimpse of her side profile and blinding smile. You have to admit she’s quite gorgeous. Then Joel’s saying something to Betty before she walks back and gives her order to the line cooks. His eyes flicker to yours again, and then to the woman he’s sitting with.

Your blood is boiling but you’re trying not to show it. How was he fucking you the other night and now he’s here with someone else?

“So, what’ve you been up to this week?” Tommy says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Oh nothing much,” You smile, a bit distracted.

He hesitates for a moment. “Got anything going on tomorrow?” He’s looking at you with his large brown eyes.

You notice Joel is watching you like a hawk, dark eyes burning straight through you as you’re talking to Tommy. You peel your eyes away from Joel and look back to Tommy.

“Not sure, I don’t think so.”

“If you’re free, maybe we could go to this bar downtown?” He stops for a second. “I mean, if not, that’s fine just-“

“I’ll let you know.” You smile at him before turning to grab his food and placing it in front of him.

“Thanks.” he glances up at you quickly.

You nod and then look back towards Joel. He gets out of the booth and the woman follows. As she stands up, he pulls her into an embrace before waving bye to her and sitting back down. As the woman walks out, you finally get a look at her. She’s gorgeous, luscious hair bouncing as he walks towards the door. She glances over at you and smiles before pushing on the door and leaving. You’re frozen there for a moment, before looking back towards Joel. You need to talk to him.

“I’ll be right back.” Tommy looks up at you with wide eyes, nodding his head.

You storm over to Joel, blood boiling. His eyes are locked on you the whole way over. When you get to his booth, you slide into the spot where the blonde woman was just sitting a moment ago and stare directly into his eyes. He shifts in his seat as your eyes stay glued to his.

“We need to talk. Now.” The last part comes out low through gritted teeth and filled with anger as you try to keep it together.

“What about, sweetheart?” He leans back, throwing his arm over the back of the booth.

What about? He's got to be joking. You feel like you could snap any second, and you think he can tell by the look in your eyes.

“Joel.” It comes out as a warning.

“Okay, okay,” he glances around the diner. “Not in here.” He gets up from the booth and you follow him as he walks towards the door.

Joel walks outside and you call out to Betty saying that you’re taking a quick break, she just waves you off. You walk out the door and look both ways before spotting Joel leaning against his truck. You walk towards him slowly, thinking about what you want to say. You stand in from of him, practically fuming at the way he’s acting so nonchalant, like he didn’t fuck you up against the side of your father’s home five nights ago and then ghost you.

“So,” You say, finally breaking the silence.

“So.” He says back.

You’re silent for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. “What exactly is going on, Joel,” your eyes meet his and your stomach flips.

“Not sure what you’re talkin’ about.” He clears his throat and breaks eye contact with you, looking down at his boots.

So he’s going to play dumb, you see how it is. “Seriously?” You shake your head still looking at him.

He looks up at you apprehensively, like he’s afraid to meet your gaze. “Seriously, what are you on about.” His brows knit together as he looks at you.

You take a step closer to him. “You’re going to act like you didn’t fuck me behind my dad’s house less than a week ago?” Your voice starts to raise and he’s just staring back at you now.

“I-“ you cut him off.

“No, let me finish.” You’re ready to let it all out. “You left abruptly Sunday night, practically ghosted me when we had plans Tuesday, and then showed up here… on a date?” He doesn’t say anything. “And then you have the nerve to ask me what we need to talk about.”

He shoves one hand into his pocket and the other rubs at the scruff on his cheek.

“Just tell me, were you lying when you said you didn’t want to forget about the night we met? That you wanted me,” You swallow thickly, afraid that you might not like his answer. “Was I just another girl to add to your list?”

His jaw ticks as he stands there silently. “Yeah.” He’s still not looking at you. “It was just a fuck, that’s all.”

You scoff. “You’re sick.” His eyes snap up to you. “Even after you found out that my dad is your best friend, who does that?” You shake your head, he has a smug look on his face that makes you just wanna-

Your hand reaches up to slap him, but he catches your wrist before your hand even gets close to his cheek. He’s breathing heavily, anger burning behind his eyes.

“The hell are you doing?” He says it through gritted teeth. “Tryin’ to hit me?”

You just stare at him. “You deserve it, don’t you think?” Your voice slightly breaks as the words come out.

He grabs your other wrist and spins you around pressing you up against his truck. You try to wriggle away but he’s too strong. You’re speechless as you stand there in his grasp, a shocked look on your face.

He’s breathing heavy as he towers over you, dark eyes staring at your parted lips now. His eyes meet yours, you have no idea what his next move will be.

“Do I?” He’s close enough now that you can feel his breath fanning over your face.

Your heart is racing. “Joel…” you breathe out.

Then he’s slamming his lips against yours, the kiss is needy and rough as he presses himself against you. You start to melt into him and then snap out of it, breaking the kiss. You push his solid chest as hard as you can, shoving him away from you. He slightly stumbles back releasing his grip on your wrists.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He looks like a deer in headlights right now, stunned by your reaction.

His mouth falls open but nothing comes out. You turn away from him and start walking back towards the door, taking a deep breath trying to hold back tears, not from sadness but from anger. Who does he think he is?

When you open the door to the diner, Tommy’s head whips towards you. “Hey, were you on break?” He asks as you walk back behind the counter.

“Yeah,” Your voice cracks a bit as you answer him. “So, about tomorrow,” you clear your throat.

Tommy’s eyes light up. “Yeah?”

Joel walks through the door making his way to Tommy, you glance at him before your eyes meet his brother’s again.

“I’d love to go with you.” He smiles at your words.

“Great, I’ll get you around 8?” He says, his dark chocolate eyes gleaming as you nod positively.

Joel’s standing behind Tommy, now staring you down. You’re unsure about how much he’s heard, but honestly, you could care less at this moment.

“C’mon Tommy, we gotta go.” Joel says as he lightly pulls at Tommy’s sleeve.

Tommy pulls out his wallet, setting some cash on the table for his meal then stands up. “See ya.” he’s holding back a smile.

You bite your cheek. “Yeah, see ya.”

Joel’s standing by the door waiting for Tommy as you give him a deadly glare before clearing the counter and you hear the door to the diner close. You’re not sure what you’ve gotten yourself into, but you feel sort of excited for tomorrow night.

thank you for reading! feel free to comment or leave asks, i love to talk about this fic so I will almost always answer/chat :)

tag list and some moots: @ilovepedro @isitmeulookin4 @joelsversion @nostalxgic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @gracieheartspedro @jenispunk @beskarandblasters @javiscigarette @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @kaybee181520 @joeldjarin @akah565 @laurifern @chefchy4 @untamedheart81 @eliza-8 @fellinfromthetop @sofiparallel @znerac

#dbf!joel #player!joel #dbf!joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #fic: falling into my sins #joel miller smut

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juliwuzhere · 2 months ago

Note

Got any Max headcannons?

I think one of the headcannons I often include in my daydreams or writing is the idea of his parents, before camp had been something they could sign up Max for, making him do a TON of other activities. And it didn’t stop after Max meet the age requirement for camp Campbell. When Max isn’t at camp, he’s doing all the other activities he is forced to do after school or on weekends. Sure, most of them his parents probably signed him out of due to them being too expensive or because Max complained too much, but for the most part, he has done an extensive amount of activities. The first activity that came to mind after reading this post? He’s probably done it and mastered it.

I mean seriously, this kid has only been doing gymnastics for a couple months. He had from august all the way to June to practice gymnastics, and he’s already so good at it the show writers had to make him do the obstacle course off screen?! (Actually it was probably because of the budget, but you get my point.)

And not just that, did you see the way he wielded that spear back in season 1 when Ered took over camp? I’m sorry, but that kind of skill with a spear isn’t just built into baby’s from birth.

Im also of the firm belief that most, if not all, of Max’s clothing is either too big or too small. Listen, I don’t think his parents are extremely abusive, physically or mentally. I think, like Max said, they don’t care. They give him the bare necessities a kid needs, food, clothes, a roof over his head; however, they do just that, the bare minimum. Let’s be frank here, they probably don’t know his size in any piece of clothing. A hoodie is actually a pretty good nod at that fact. Hoodies aren’t very tight like a t shirt, so they could get him an Medium or large and it’s not that obvious how big the hoodie is.

This also leads to my third head cannon. Of course, his parents give clothes and food, but most of the time it’s leftovers or just ingredients. Which means that Max most likely cooks really well.

Another one I have, and this one may get me burned at the stake, is that Max’s hair doesn’t look that bad in the morning. Now, hear me out! I get it, imagining Max having a birds nest in the morning is pretty funny. But I honestly think that after the events that occurred at Spooky Island, Max, Sasha, and Pikemen, whether they want to admit it or not, did grow a friendship. Sure, it isn’t a very nice friendship and Pikemen still attacks the camp, but they are a lot more friendlier towards each other. Because of this, I know that Sasha definitely helped him develop a skin and hair care routine. (The skin routine is more eye bag related since they’re like 11) Before the events of season 4, yeah he probably looked like shit most days, but the year after that? You could give Max shit about his attitude, but definitely not his appearance. For all I know, Sasha bought him some cologne or some crap.

He definitely has insomnia, I mean cmon. This kid has saved the camp from a cultist, the woodscouts, etc. I’m sure he has at least SOME issues sleeping. I sure would if I knew the guy who had brainwashed me and my friends and tried to kill us was still OUT THERE. (In Antartica possibly, but still.)

This technically applies to my previous head cannon but whatever. He can play guitar, just doesn’t want David to know because he will 100% force Max to play at the campfire. Max would thrust himself into the bonfire before you saw him agree to do that.

Max is really good at sports and in term is very competitive. But like, he’s both of these things but…terrifyingly so. Sorry, gonna go on a tangent to explain my thought process but hear me out for a second. I’m actually planning on writing a fanfic about Nerris learning hypnotism (they think it’s the closest thing to real magic) and accidentally actually doing it to Max after failed attempts on all the campers while at a sleepover. David catches them because it’s past there curfew and, to get out of trouble, Nerris decides to compromise with him. They tell David that if he lets all of the campers go without having to clean the messhall or whatever punishment he’s going to give them, Nerris would make Max actually participate in the camp activities. One thing leads to another and Max ends up actually doing all the activities with no complaining. But turns out, he’s way too good. None of the campers can actually beat him in anything, not even there own activities. Soccer, basketball, tennis, pickleball, archery, rock climbing, he can do it all. But like, imagine playing with someone who beats you every time and in less than a couple seconds. Obviously, everyone is mortified and decide to never give Max crap for not participating.

TLDR, Max doesn’t participate in activities because a) He doesn’t feel like playing games with people who can’t serve a volleyball, because you have to remember that most of these kids are probably really un athletic or nerdy, and b) Although he doesn’t want to admit it, he doesn’t want to be that kind of dick. After the events of the last summer, he’s not as rude. But of course, he still talks shit about their skills.

Sorry it took me so long to reply, if you couldn’t tell I got too excited writing this. Thanks for asking! I love answering and talking about story ideas and camp camp headcanons. Especially Max since he’s my favorite character (basic, I know, shut up imaginary hater.)

#camp camp #camp camp max #camp camp david #camp camp gwen #camp camp neil #cc max #cc david #cc nerris #small fandoms #u.p’s little chit chats

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tlouxx · 1 year ago

Text

Electromagnetism - p.4

~ ellie williams x reader

——————————————————————————

part three | part five <3

synopsis: you and ellie williams have been long time rivals. you're a physics majors at wellesley college, and you’re competing for the same spot in the prestigious dr. ramsey’s lab as ellie. suddenly neither of you can escape the other as you’re both trying to navigate your final year of college

content: college!ellie, mean!ellie, modern au, academic rivals to lovers, forced proximity, the next chapter will pick up right where this ends ;), lots of tension, ellie being flirtatious, reader and ellie finally kiss hehe

taglist: @gold-dustwomxn @skylerwhitwyo @blueberryhalfblood @elliebobellysosmelly @444na0m1 @bellswlw @mikasasbabygirl

——————————————————————————

Day 58

PHYS 208: Intermediate Electromagnetism

I haven’t spoken to Ellie since that night. Although, I can’t entirely avoid her since we have class and work together. I know Ellie and I don’t see eye to eye, but I would never ask this of her. I’ve been keeping my head down, doing my work, dodging Ellie’s attempts to talk to me. Dina thinks it might’ve been a joke since Ellie and I were already fighting, but she wasn’t there. Ellie was serious. The way she looked at me when she said it. She was desperate. The application for Dr. Ramsey’s lab is due in two weeks. I’ve actually contemplated not applying, but I’ve worked too hard to not do this.

…

I’m dreading walking into another class and having to endure more time spent with her. I sit at the back of my room and rest my head on the desk. I’ve been neglecting sleep lately in order to keep up with school work. I only raise my head when I hear my professor speak.

“Since midterms are quickly approaching, I have made study groups for you all.” I internally groan.

“You will make a study guide for the midterm and submit it to me. The group assignments will be on my desk after class.”

My foot anxiously taps against the floor. I was hoping the professor might let us out early. My eyes can’t stop catching the time, but it doesn’t seem to go any faster. When her powerpoint comes to an end, she reminds us to check our study group assignment.

Ellie cuts in front of me in line. I know she wants a reaction out of me, but I’m not giving her what she wants. She reads the paper on the desk in front of her. I try to make out what it says, before I can she faces me. “Well, would you look at that? We’re partners.”

…

“I don’t want to work with Ellie.”

“And why is that?” My professor closes her laptop. I struggle to gather the words to describe years of my relationship with Ellie leading up to this.

“We.. We uh just don't get along.” I rub the back of my neck feeling awkward having to ask this. I don’t feel ready to confront Ellie just yet.

“It’s just one assignment. I’m sure you’ll both find a way to make it work.”

I try to protest one more time. She scoots me out of her office with that as her final answer. Maybe she’s right. It’s just one assignment. I’ve avoided her for a month.

I don't think I can avoid her anymore.

2:57 P.M

Well, when do you want to work on this?

E: My place after class?

Sure.

E: It’s a date ;)

…

“So.. How do you think it’ll go tonight?” Dina sits on my bed writing a paper for her class. I haven’t been able to gather the courage to walk to Ellie’s apartment quite yet.

“Hopefully quick. It’s not like both of us aren't capable.”

“Why don’t you ask her about it.”

I honestly don’t know why I haven’t just asked why she doesn’t want me to apply. On some level, it feels like a betrayal. Yes, we compete with each other. Yes, we fight. But this could be life-changing for me or for Ellie. I have to at least try to do this.

“I don’t know. I’m scared of what she’ll say. We both know how important this could be for a career in physics, research, academia. I find it hard to believe she’d want me to flat out not apply.”

“Even if you don’t want to hear her answer, I think you deserve to know. Maybe she has a good reason.”

…

I knock on Ellie’s door. The anticipation is killing me as I wait for her to answer. She opens the door. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I stand there for a few seconds longer twiddling with the ring on my thumb.

“Come in. I won't bite.” She smirks and pulls the door open wider. I haven’t spoken to her since the last time I was here. Butterflies are swirling around my stomach. I tell myself I’m just nervous to be around her again. I walk in after Ellie and shut the door behind me. She leads me back to her room.

Her desk is full of textbooks, art supplies, and little trinkets. My hand traces the edge of her books. Her walls are lined with art and her bed is unmade. I had her pinned as more of a type A with a super organized room. I guess we're all full of surprises.

The silence is permeating the air, and I desperately need to fill it. “Where do you want to start on the outline?” Ellie sits on her bed getting comfortable.

“You can take chapters 1-3, and I’ll do 4-7.”

…

We fall into a more comfortable silence this time. We’ve been working on the assignment with no end in sight. After two and a half hours, I’ve barely scratched the surface of what we need to cover. Ellie flops back on her bed sighing.

“How far have you gotten? My brain feels fried.”

“My brain is also fried. I’ve barely gotten through chapter one.” My eyes feel strained from looking at the computer screen for so long.

“Want to take a break?” She smiles at me, and I nod back at her.

…

Ellie leads me out onto the balcony. She planted a couple of snacks in front of us. The familiar scenery brings back the tension of before. Ellie and I sit on the couch together looking up at the dusky sky. Being out here again with Ellie so near to me, I remember the way she shifted her body to lean in closer, I could almost feel the heat of her touch. I remember how her perfume stuck to me for hours afterward and all I could think about was Ellie Williams. God I was pissed at her. I am pissed at her.

“It’s uh-a nice night out here.” I smile at Ellie not knowing what else to say. The fluttering in my stomach is coming back with a vengeance.

“I’m glad you’re finally talking to me again.” She sets down her drink and her arm stretches out behind me. I feel the urge to sink into her.

“I guess I didn’t need to give you the cold shoulder. Sorry about that.” Her fingers lightly stroke up and down my arm. I like her touch more than I thought I would.

“I understand why you did it. I do have a good reason for asking..” She trails off her sentence and faces me.

“Okay.” I inch closer to her until only a small gap remains. “I’m listening.”

“I told my interviewer for grad school that I already had the position.”

“Oh my god, Ellie… Why would you do that?” I raise my voice unintentionally. How could she be so stupid. Now I know why she looked so desperate. If they find out she lied about this they could rescind her offer.

“Because I’m an arrogant piece of shit who underestimated you. It was before the semester started. and then you got a 100 in quantum mechanics…” Her demeanor softens.

“I freaked out. I thought I would get it no problem. Then suddenly you’re around me all the time and- I’m.. uh struggling to get my shit together.”

Now that I know, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done what Ellie did. I don't know if I forgive her just yet, but I wish I would have listened to her sooner.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t know what you want me to do Ellie. You know I have to apply.” Ellie reaches out and puts her hand on my knee and her eyes meet mine.

“I know. I’m sorry for asking. I gotta clean up my mess by myself.”

…

Ellie and I head back inside to continue working on the assignment. I go to return to my spot on her rug.

“You know you’re allowed to sit at my desk or you can sit on the bed with me. We might be working for a while longer.”

“Oh, are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your space.”

She scoots over and pats the spot next to her. I gather my laptop off the floor and sit at the edge of her bed. I feel embarrassed about the way I was feeling outside. Leaning into her touch. Yearning for more. It’s just a lapse in judgment. I was just feeling flustered because we haven't really spoken since we fought. At least that's why I think I’m flustered.

…

We continued working on the assignment in silence for a while. It’s starting to get late, and my eyes are feeling heavier than before. It's 12:03 A.M. when I look over at Ellie. I think she’s starting to feel tired too. Her hair falls in front of her face and she tucks it behind her ear. I blush knowing she just caught me staring at her.

“Um. I think I might call it a night and go home.” Ellie shuts her laptop and rubs her eyes.

“You can stay if you want.” She moves over and starts to close the gap between us. The beat in my chest is rapidly intensifying as the space between us lessens.

“Oh, uh I don’t know if I should.” I could move away from Ellie right now, but I can’t or maybe I don't want to. The force between us feels magnetic like I can’t make myself stay away from her. Her face is lit up softly by the string lights in her room.

“It’s a long walk for you back.” Her hand makes its way onto my thigh. Her calloused fingers make goosebumps prickle up spine. “I was just thinking we could work on it again in the morning. It’d be safer if you stayed here.”

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

…

Ellie brings me a pair of pants to change into. I can’t believe I just agreed to spend the night here. “Thanks. Where’s your bathroom?”

Ellie laughs. “I won’t look. You can change here.”

“Ellie, c’mon.” She covers her eyes with her hands. Not wanting to protest more, I changed into the pants she gave me.

She hops onto her bed. I’m suddenly unsure if I’m supposed to get into bed with her or not. Maybe I should just sit on the floor. I’d never live it down if I climbed into bed with Ellie Williams when that's not what she was insinuating. This whole situation is confusing me. We haven’t spoken in a month, and now I’m spending the night and wearing her clothes. I hate that I don’t hate this. God, what is wrong with me?

I can feel Ellie staring at me as I stand still unsure of my next move. “Um, you can sleep in my bed if you want to. I won’t make you sleep on the floor.” She fumbles her words. This is uncharted territory for both of us. “Obviously, unless that's what you’d prefer I don’t want to overstep any boundaries.”

I shouldn’t.

“Seems like you want me to sleep in your bed Ellie. I think you missed me.”

Ellie pulls me onto her bed with her. She’s stronger than I thought she’d be. Her thinly lined shirt gives way to her muscles underneath. I find myself on top of her staring at her beneath me. Her hands find my hips, but immediately toss me to the side of the bed.

“Maybe I did miss you. Is that so bad?”

Ellie wraps her arms around me pulling me in closer. I can’t help but savor her touch.

“No, It’s not so bad.”

The desire burns through me clouding my judgment. I shakily grasp Ellie’s hair and pull her in to kiss me. At first soft, terrified she may not want to kiss me back.

Ellie’s hands wander to my hips pulling me against hers leaving no question of her aching for me. Years of pent up desire bursting out all at once. Her touch feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Our bodies pressed together furiously.

She kisses me like she’s needed me all her life with fervor and lust. Her hands wander up my shirt and I don’t stop her. Her lips are soft but rough against my own. She kisses down my neck making me feel weak to her touch. A suppressed moan escapes my lips. God, I need her so badly. Her lips return to mine hungry for more.

My phone rings in the background making us pull apart suddenly. “Um, I should get that.”

…

“It was Dina. She was worried I hadn’t made it home.”

“Oh, I see.” Ellie sits up in bed. I would’ve thought I'd feel regret for kissing Ellie but I don’t. I feel like it’s unlocked a part of me that’s been missing.

“Is it okay if I still-“ She lifts up the covers.

“Oh my god, just get back in.” I laugh and get back into bed with Ellie. This is not how I saw this ending.

#college!au #college!ellie williams #dina tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x you #rivals to lovers #the last of us #ellie tlou

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belaofarc · 9 months ago

Text

Couch endeavors ౨ৎ

ೀ Stepdad! John wick x reader pt 2

Summary: after last week's encounter all you can think about was how it all started between you and your step dad John. (5k words)

TW: Stepcest. Strong language. NSFW. Large age gap.

Note: hii lovies <3 I know it’s been a long time, but who knew applying to college would be harder and more tiring than ACTUALLY being in the college smh.

It’s been months since you and your now step dad have started the problematic relationship between the two of you. At first you hated him… but now… all you can think about is that fateful day

when it all first started…

….

you had just got out of school.

you and your best friend Cassie, were walking out of the school building waiting outside to be picked up by y’all’s respected parents.

The wind is blowing , making you shiver a bit.

“I’m so damn happy today is Friday, what are you doing tonight?” Cassie asked while staring at the other kids walking off into each car.

“I don’t know honestly, probably playing sims 4 all weekend… the usual”

you say as you sigh.

“I know it’s like we are finally in high school and there are no parties to ever go to when you need them.”

Cassie complained whilst checking her phone.

You scan the place before speaking.

“I know right, like you see in every teenage movie they have some sort of glow up and go to a party and somehow end up almost sleeping with their crush until the nerdy boy they hated then befriended is there somehow, and they decide to run off with him.”

you ramble on about whilst still standing there waiting to be picked up.

“No cause it’s the fact you know the plot of every 80s movie by heart”

Cassie says as you chuckle.

“I guess it’s another win for the virgins this week”

Cassie says sarcastically,

You start to tap your foot while analyzing the kids going in and out the building, as you feel a bit antsy at the thought of finally going home.

you see a black car pull up and instantly realize it’s your stupid step dad. Only one person has that type of nice car you just can’t not remember.

Ever since your mom started prioritizing your step dad over you, you've disliked the man ever since.

John wick… what a name… rolls right off the tongue if you think about it hard enough…

you let out a big sigh and roll your eyes.

He finally pulls up,

“Bye pookie”

Cassie says as you lean in to hug her goodbye.

You start walking over to the car,

“Text me!!” you called out one last time while getting into the passenger seat,

your step dad pulls off, as you're still situating yourself in the seat.

You throw your book bag in between your legs.

“Hey John…” you said awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

“Hey kiddo, how was school?”

He asked while patting your thigh.

you freeze a bit, your thoughts racing as you realize what he just did.

His huge muscular hands compared to your thigh.

you instantly start to blush and turn your head towards the window so he can’t see your whole face lighting up in embarrassment.

you didn't want to admit it but you kinda liked the attention….

“ NO! You can’t…

You can’t… you hate him… but do I reall- yes you must ! It’s because of him your mother never has time for you anymore”

you thought to yourself, trying to reason with yourself whether you should like John or not.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…”

you replied with a scoff, and continuously stare out the window trying not to pay any attention to the man.

He sighs, opening his mouth preparing to speak…

It takes a few minutes for him to reply, you could see the sadness in his expression.

“I… look… I know you're not happy your mother and I are getting married but I promise I’m not trying to destroy your relationship with your mother… We both care about you deeply.

I just wish you’d open up more,

Now that I’m your step dad I just want what’s best for this family.”

He lectured, while continually driving.

Where? God knows.

you rolled your eyes, and scoff turning your head to look at him.

“Since you wanna know so bad, it was pretty okay. Kinda boring but other than that, I got a 98 on the math test we took today.”

you replied without giving any thought to what he had just said.

“Good job, kiddo” he gave you a small grin, and patted your upper thigh.

you couldn’t help but feel some sort of energy … not the normal kind.

But you decided to just shrug it off cause it’s out of your reach, you’ll let this pass.

“ how about we go get something to eat to celebrate, a little father and daughter bonding time. it’s on me.”

you nod your head as a response and pop in an earbud.

You connect your earbuds to your phone and turn on

“Swallowed my key” by slater.

32 minutes later y'all end up at The Cheesecake Factory.

You sit there in the parked car registering how and why your step dad whom you hardly know just took you to your favorite restaurant,

You both step out of the car and start walking towards the door.

He ends up at the door first and opens it for your.

“Ladies first!” he chuckles.

“You’re such a geek.” you scoffed and walked inside.

you walk over to the desk waiting to be seated,

John followed close by.

It turns out John was taking y'all there anyways and had already called ahead for a reservation.

He tells the desk man his last name, the waiter picks up two menus and tells y’all to follow him.

y’all finally arrive at the table.

Yall both sit down and the waiter pulls out his notepad, placing 2 straws down on the table.

“What would you two like to drink?”

Asked the man with a big grin.

“I’ll have a water with extra lemon”

Replied John with a sour face.

“I’ll have a sprite”

You answer while playing with the straw on the table.

“Perfect, I'll have those out as soon as they're done!”

The waiter turns to look at you and winks.

He finally walks away.

you could tell John saw what the waiter had done and now he’s all pissy.

“Sooo… what cheesecake do you want when we’re done ?”

John asks awkwardly… trying to break the ice.

“Oreo…”

you say plainly scrunch your lips up, and look around at your surroundings.

“Great choice!”

He replies with a reminiscing grin of assurance.

you could tell he wants to get closer to you but you just can’t… you hated how he came in between you and your mom.

You’re spaced out in Thought until John broke the silence by clearing his throat and stroking his beard in thought as well.

you were a bit startled but you couldn't help but stare at him… the longer you observed him the more reason you understood why your mom wanted to bag the man, I mean Christ…. His phyzic, his raven black hair… his dangerous ey-… you shake your head at the thought of you starting to like your step father…

“I mean yeah he was handsome, but… maybe… just maybe I was misjudging him… “

He finally realizes you are staring at him, he flashes you a bright smile.

you decided to flash him one back.

“You know… your a very pretty girl”

He compliments you while chuckling and looking away from your eyes in embarrassment.

You could tell his cheek were red and flushed,

“Thank you…”

you honestly started to blush until you realized he’s literally your moms fiancé, and your step dad.

No matter how much you couldn't stand either of them you would never…

Maybe… just maybe…

Y’all sit in silence until the waiter arrives,

And place the bread and drinks in the middle of the table.

“Are y’all ready to order?”

The waiter announces while holding onto his notepad and pen waiting to jot down the orders.

“Uhhh yes”

John mutters then tells the man his order.

you could tell John was staring into the poor man’s soul with Ill intent.

you couldn’t lie, it kinda made you blush at how possessive he was over you.

You kinda liked this side of him.

you thought to yourself until you realized the waiter had handed a piece of paper to you.

John quickly snatched it out of your hand and crumbled it, placing it in his pocket.

He places his knuckles in front of his mouth and clears his throat.

“You won’t be needing that...”

you wince at John with confusion and anger.

He’s already taken plus he’s not even my real father… Why does he get to play god with my love life?

Just as you started to open up he pulls this.

you got annoyed and hesitatingly tell the waiter your order, as he’s jotting it down,

He then walks off with a confused and frozen face.

“Why did you do that… he could’ve been a nice guy.” you complain to John while pouting.

“You don’t need distractions from father and daughter bonding time.”

John replied with a smile and pats your hand which was was reaching for

a piece of bread.

“If you saw so..”

You roll your eyes at his reply.

He got sick and tired of the silence between you too so he decided to ask you random questions about yourself to break the ice.

“What’s your favorite artist…”

you looked him dead in the eyes and you realized he’s serious about this.

you sigh and comply with the chitter chat.

“Lana del Rey, maruex, the smiths… the usual.”

you reply, trying not to sound too boring.

“Ahhh yes the smiths that brings me back, I actually met Johnny murr”

He replied while reminiscing.

“No way!! That’s so cool…. I hope that didn’t sound sarcastic”

you giggle

“But genuinely that’s cool as fuck.”

He chuckles and tilts his head.

“He was a pretty cool guy not gonna lie.”

He replied

“What’s YOUR favorite artist?”

You asked whilst staring into his beautiful dark brown eyes.

you wanted to know about him… you hated to admit it but the fact he’s actually taking time to know you actually makes you a bit sympathetic again.

He was so perfect, so mysterious you couldn’t even be mad at him for too long.

Also not to mention I’d be awkward to make a fool of yourself…

“Why do I care about this all the sudden…”

you thinks to yourself, a bit conflicted at how you feel about the man.

“Well… it’s a pretty hard question but probably… the talking heads…”

“Amazing pick choice !! I love their one song,

psycho killer, but once in a lifetime is also really good!”

you enthusiastically replied, you could never pass up a good conversation about music you enjoy.

“You have amazing taste sweetheart.”

He grinned.

you instantly started to blush, you can’t believe he called you that, I mean he’s your step dad of course it has no romantic meaning behind it… but you kinda wish it did.

“Favorite show?”

He asked, tilting his head and clearing his throat yet again.

“Ermmm probably what we do in the shows… it’s my favorite!! I always loved the thought of vampires”

you replied while smiling at the thought of him being so interested in your interests … you hated it but he had this.. energy when you’ve been around him long enough,

Almost like you're hypnotized.

The waiter finally came back with the food.

About time…

After eating your meals and taking your desserts to go y'all finally walk out of the restaurant,

As you're going down the steps he reaches to grab your hand.

You decide to comply not to make it an awkwardly uncomfortable experience.

He digs in his pocket to grab the car keys to unlock the car,

he walks you over to your side of the car and opens the door for you.

you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture…

It’s the small things that count.

you hop in and wait for him to get in.

“Thank you John…”

You smile while buckling in your seat belt.

“Your welcome princess.”

The way he says it comes naturally off his tongue.

“Can I play some music?”

You tilt your head as you ask.

“Yeah sure go ahead, princess.”

He replied handing you the aux cord,

You instantly pull out your phone and connect it, it takes you a while but you then decide to play,

“Burning desire” by Lana del rey.

About 30 mins later y'all arrive home, you get unbuckled and grab your stuff to exit out of the vehicle, when he grabs your hand and pulls you to stay in the car a bit longer.

y'all sit in the car for a bit in silence for what feels like forever, you could tell John wanted to say something but was nervous to say it.

Hell It made you even more nervous.

He sighs and turns his head, taking initiative and leans in to kiss you,

After a bit You realize what’s going on, the cute pet names, the way he was so protective, it finally all made sense.

You snap out of it and realize this is real… you're actually kissing your hot step dad, you decide to deepen the kiss.

John puts his hand to cup your cheek.

He finally breaks the kiss and looks at you, staring at him always gives you butterflies now you're only inches apart.

you're dazed… did you really just kiss your step father… outside of the house… what if your mom saw!?

“I’m sorry… I just had to let that out.”

John confessed while looking straight ahead trying to not look at you, he felt a little bad for the sudden kiss but he just wanted to let you know how he genuinely felt.

The passion he felt for you all thought he knew it was wrong.

“… honestly I liked it…”

you confessed sheepishly, still shocked at the encounter.

You grab his hand before he could move once more, you decide to quickly reach over to his side to kiss him one last time on the cheek.

“John… we should really get inside before mom gets suspicious.”

He lifts his hand up to his cheek to where you kissed him.

In a bit of a daze he smiles at you.

He looks around for a bit, still a little nervous on what his next move was.

John grabs both of your food and opens his door to hop out.

You collect your items and open your door making your way to the house door, you stand there waiting for him to follow.

John grabs the keys from his back pocket to open the door, the jiggling keys making you wish you had him all to yourself.

No stupid mom to take him from you.

He finally gets the door open,

your mom comes from the kitchen and greets y’all, she walks over to John.

“I hope you had a good time baby!”

She exclaimed to you whilst grabbing onto John.

You look back and realized they are kissing and laughing,

you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.

“What if that was me…”

you couldn’t get the thought out of your head.

you head up the stairs into your bedroom.

you trip over a cord and turn on the light.

Plopping onto the bed and pulling out your phone and started messaging your friends about the encounter.

They all agreed it was extremely strange but whatever he’s hot …

you get up off the bed and decide to shower, after today's endeavors, you need to cleanse yourself.

You pull out your boom box and connect your phone to it,

You turned on

“Les” by childish gambino.

Turning up the volume to half way to not get yelled at by your parents.

You go over to the sink to brush your teeth,

Now going over to the shower.

you start to undress and hop in,

And start doing your routine.

finally done, you decided to turn on some Jonathan Bree to get you in the mood to be alive, you feel numb, the feelings you have for your step dad is not normal but… you can’t help but feel angry, resentment, jealousy, all consuming you.

you dried off and put on a white colored lacy nightgown that went down to your knees.

you go back to the bathroom to do your nightly facial routine.

Until you hear a knock at the door, it’s your mom.

“Hey honey.”

She spoke softly.

“Hey mom…” you replied back awkwardly,

Ever since y’all been distant it’s been so strange to speak to your mom like how you used too.

“How was dinner with John?”

You stopped what you were doing to look at her.

“It was nice, he’s very kind.”

You turn back around and continue your routine.

“I know it’s been a while since we last spoke alone, and I didn’t know how to tell you this but I’m going out of town for a couple days for work. And I want you to be good while I’m gone, it’s only gonna be you and John here. And if anything happens please don’t be scared to tell me.”

You nod your head in agreement.

She walks over to the door

“I love you honey, goodnight I’m going to sleep. Have sweet dreams.”

You nod and

She finally walks out the door, closing it behind her.

You put away your lotions and walk over to the door to

headed downstairs to get a glass of water.

Every step makes you feel weightless just thinking about you and your step father alone all weekend.

you joilt up when you realized your step dad is in the kitchen as well.

He’s leaned against the counter drinking a glass of what looks to be tea.

you walk in, and when he sees you he snaps out of his thoughts.

“Hey…”

He says clearing his throat after taking yet another sip.

“Hi”

You replied monotone.

“What are you doing up so late kiddo?”

He asked you curiously while stroking his beard.

“Grabbing some water…”

You say as you grab a cold water bottle from the refrigerator.

“It’s always good to stay hydrated…Your gown is very pretty.”

John says as he walks closer to you.

“…Thanks…”

you could tell there is an awkward feeling in the air from earlier, you hated it but what’s done is done.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

He asked, looking at you curious with his eyebrows furrowed.

“…. Uhhh sure…. What about mom?”

“Trust me, when she’s sleep, she’s dead asleep.”

“Oh”

you say as you take a sip of water,

John grabs a bag of popcorn and tosses it into the microwave.

you decided to walk over to the couch and take a seat.

He waits for the popcorn to get done and pours it into a bowl, he finally makes his way over to the couch and sits down to the left side of the couch and scoots a bit closer to you.

“… sooo what movie are we watching?”

you grab a bit of popcorn.

He reaches for the remote and turns the tv on flicking through the movies.

“I was thinking of a scary movie.”

“Sounds good.”

you continue to reach for the popcorn.

About half way into the movie y’all both find yourselves cuddling next to each other.

His hand on your knee while your leg is stretched over his lap.

You had the urge to just lean your head up and kiss his handsome face.

But you fight it off, find some dignity you thought to yourself.

you instantly snapped out of your thoughts when you realized there's a sex scene on the tv.

you can’t help but feel awkward at the thought

Of watching this whilst you're sitting next to your step dad of all people plus ealiers encounters, you decided to excuse yourself to the restroom.

As you walked into the downstairs bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror feeling a bit nervous and awkward to even step a foot back into the living room.

you couldn't help but wonder what the sex is like between him and your mom, it makes you sick.

you turn the faucet on and cup the water to splash onto your face… you still feel like you're on autopilot.

Dry heaving over the sink.

A couple minutes go by and you finally talk yourself into heading back, until you realize he paused the movie.

Right in the middle of it.

you awkwardly sit on the end of the couch not wanting to be too clingy, or show any attention to yourself.

He then pats the couch at the spot you were just in to signal you to go back to cuddling with him, you decided to comply and Scoot back and go back to the usual position but this time it was different the air was thicker and you noticed his hand was positioned on the upper part of your thigh instead of your knee.

The sex scene plays out for what feels like forever.

You could tell he was thinking about something the way his breathing is shifted, and heavy.

He starts rubbing your thigh up and down, causing you to freeze.

you looked down and noticed he has a bulge, you couldn't tell if he’s hard or what but the light from the tv screen lights the curve perfectly.

Curious, you decided I’d be a nice idea to tease him, and placed your hand near his boxer shorts.

He adjusted a bit, you look up and notice he’s a bit flustered.

you decided you wanted to see if he’d bite, you just wanted to know if your mom married the sweetest, most faithful man in the world, you wanted to break him, you wanted to see his dark side for once.

you peeked your head up a bit to kiss him on his cheek.

“Thank you for suggesting we watch A movie… daddy.”

He looks at you a bit puzzled, he tries to speak but starts to choke instead.

“I-I”

Was all he could stutter out, the random change of emotion from you was very noticeable and confusing.

you could tell he’s flustered at the nickname.

you decided to go even deeper and placed your hand above his boxers… slowly making your way to his bulge and caressing it.

you couldn’t help but blush at how huge it felt.

He takes a deep breath, you could tell he’s getting even harder just by your touch.

He understands your memo and drags his hand up your body onto your chest, trying not to be too fast, he decides to rub the lower part of your breasts.

At this point it’s driving you crazy, you need him… every inch, you could feel yourself getting wet just thinking about it.

you then made your way back up to the top of his boxers and placed your hand inside gently rubbing his cock, your eyes still on the movie.

you made your way to the tip and you realized he has pre cum already and you haven't even done much.

you bit your bottom lip at the thought of his cock being in your mouth…

“Fuck~” he gently moans, as he tilts his head back.

He finally reached inside your nightgown, flicking your right nipple, every touch making you get wetter and wetter,

He starts making circles around the sensitive buds, causing you to jolt.

Making you want to break down right then and there and drop to your knees.

So you decided to do so, at this point there's no point of return yall both knew y’all had this chemistry.

This secret y’all both could just share… between daughter and step father.

you stands up and gets onto your knees, looking up at John with pleading eyes.

His head nodded in agreement.

you then pull his boxers down to his ankles,

His cock springing up as it’s finally freed from the torture of conseslment.

your eyes widen at how huge it is…

Just earlier you were plotting his murder now you're on your knees begging for your step fathers cock.

you lean in to give the tip of his cock a kiss, your hand grabbing not even nearly the entire thing.

you then make your way to the base and lick it all the way back to the tip, every inch making you crave more.

You start to make out with the base of his cock, the taste driving you crazy, wanting nothing more than to just have his cock be yours and only yours forever.

You then lift your head up a bit to get a good look at it, the thick veiny cock towering over your face, intimidating yet breathtaking.

Losing your virginity to your step father was definitely not on this year's bingo card.

you then place both hands on each side of his cock jerking up and down in soft motions,

Placing yet another kiss on the tip.

Finally opening your mouth to take in his huge length, hardly getting past the tip you're already concerned about how it’s all gonna fit but this is what you wanted… you can’t back away now.

Still placing both your hands around his dick to cover the parts you couldn’t fit around your mouth, you start bobbing your head up and down the length you can take.

Turning him into a groaning mess.

you take it out and let out a soft moan, your left hand tight around the base as your right is pumping it up and down.

your mouth is all covered with spit and pre cum.

His cock was so big you didn’t even know if you could fit it inside your cunt.

Wondering if y’all would even be able to go that far without one of them getting hurt and or getting caught at some point.

you spit on John's cock while continuing to pump his it up and down, he raises his hand to caress your cheek as you slide your tongue along the side of his thick cock.

Savoring every inch,

“Good girl.”

He praises you as you continue to slurp up and down.

you couldn't get enough of it, you just wanted it all to yourself, at this point you resented your mother, how lucky you were to have such a handsome and loving husband but also a big dick in bed and loads of money.

you then take his dick whole again but this time attempting to push yourself further along it, until you're a gagging mess and can’t go further .

He then places his hand on your head and grabs a bit of your hair, forcing you to go up and down at a faster pace, tears streaming down your eyes.

The way he’s looking into your eyes, you could tell he was starving for more… he wants you… every little moan from your pretty little mouth.

He finally let’s go and you pops his cock out your mouth,

Absolutely drooling and mesmerized and heaving for air.

you wanted nothing more but for him to cum deep inside you.

Babies ? you didn’t mind at this point,

Whatever you could do to keep him in your life as much as possible.

“Get up princess”

John ordered.

you obeyed and got up onto your feet, he signals you onto his lap.

you dropped your panties, and slipped out your nightgown.

You climbed onto him placing one arm around his shoulder, the other one caressing his face.

His hands were placed on the sides of your hips.

The movie still playing in the background,

He leans in to kiss you, placing his tongue onto yours.

The taste of each other's saliva combining was enough to make him combust right then and there.

you become more hypnotized as you moan into his mouth, and place sloppy kisses all over his face, he instantly starts groaning whilst grabbing at your ass. And places soft yet firm slaps onto it.

Each bounce makes him wish he could take you right then and there without caring what your mother thinks.

you pause and look into his eyes with despair…

“I need you …. John… please…. Please daddy.”

you beg as you place another kiss onto his lips.

“Are you sure.., what if it hurts… your only so young”

He questions in a worried voice.

“Please...”

He sighs but he complies, he takes his cock and starts gliding it along your wet cunt, causing you to jolt at how good it feels.

The thought of losing your virginity to your step father was just enough to drive you crazy, what would your mother think if she saw y’all like this… she’d be furious.

But fuck it… it’s too late.

John then lines his cock along your tight slit, causing you to cover your mouth from the pain.

He isn’t even half way in until you start biting your lips from how much the pain was.

He decides to leave it there, until you get more comfortable with the length and decide to move on your own.

He didn’t wanna hurt you, that was the scariest scenario to him, not wanting to scare you but also wanting to absolutely destroy your cunt.

He places a kiss onto your forehead.

“You're so beautiful…. ever since I first met you that day, I’ve wanted you.”

He confessed while caressing your cheek with his left hand whilst the right is on your ass.

“To be honest… I resented you because I thought you were trying to steal my mom from me…

But now I can understand why she was so obsessed over you”

Y’all both start to giggle and share another kiss with one another .

“I could never do that to you princess…”

He whispers softly.

you finally decide you are ready to take his full length or… at least try?

As you glide down you can’t help but tear up a bit, whimpering at the pain, John then starts to coax you to make you feel better.

It hurt so bad but felt so good you just couldn’t stop, every inch filling you up in all the right places.

Due to the exstacy all you wanted to do was moan as loud as you could, fuck your mom and her sleep.

John realizes you're too hypnotized to snap out of your own world. He places his mouth on yours, so you’d be able to whimper and moan into his mouth not to wake up your sleeping mother.

you finally reached the end of his full length, grateful that you made it this far, but now you have to go back up.

your eyes tearing up a bit,

Dreading but also enhanced at the feeling of it.

you sit there for a bit just staring into his beautiful dark eyes, whilst rubbing the side of his face.

“You're so handsome…”

you confess.

you then lean in for another kiss,

Your tongues exploring each other yet again, every time making them feel pure bliss.

The way his warm mouth mixes perfectly with yours, was enough to drive you crazy.

You raised his hand up to your left boob and start playing with the bud,

Causing you to moan a bit louder into his mouth.

Saliva dripping from your mouth from the sloppy make out.

You pause and look at his lips how perfectly crafted they are.

How his features just compliment each other so well.

Until you speak.

“Daddy…”

You looked at him with soft eyes.

“I don’t think I can take it all.”

“Shhhh”

He hushed as he reassured you it’s all okay, and you can start when you're ready.

Taking initiative, you lean in for another kiss and start to lift your body up his cock, every part making you teary eyed yet satisfied.

“Oh daddy…”

Y’all start groaning in unison as the friction causes y’all to heat up.

He notices your hair in your face, and moves it aside.

He grins whilst staring at you, you can’t help but blush, the way his eyes Pierce into your soul.

you lead back causing your head to fall back whilst closing them at how good and stimulating it felt to have his cock finally satisfying your urges.

The way it’s so lengthy and huge makes you feel like the luckiest girl in the world, you can’t help but feel like it’s a dream from how too good it is to be true.

you fasten your pace, your mouth half way open and drools dripping from your pretty mouth, causing him to groan at the sight.

He makes his hand down to your thigh and reaches your clit, rubbing circles along the sensitive buds causing you to jolt and instantly place your hand on your mouth to stop you from moaning too loud.

Your muffled moans causing him to want nothing more than to cum inside that pretty tight cunt of yours.

The way it’s so wet, you can hear the noise it makes as he’s entering you.

Each flop caused you to Shriek at how he was bruising your young cunt to no return.

“I love you so much daddy”

you say as your practically out of breath panting from the increasing of your pace,

“I love you too kiddo”

He breathlessly blurts out as he’s in pure bliss.

Every thrust made him fall deeper and deeper into lust.

He leans his head towards your chest to

Take one of your nipples into his mouth, causing you to moan, you practically looked mindless the way you were relentlessly riding his cock, mixed with the stimulation of his mouth in your nipple.

Every thrust caused him to want to release his load.

He starts humming to the Rhythm that you created between y’all two.

“Please daddy… fuck…”

you whispered in his ear causing him to close his eyes at the blissful sound and sight of him fucking you.

The sound caused you to become nervous from how loud it was but also not caring anymore.

The ending credit song in the background was just the icing on top.

Times like this you wanted nothing more than to just stay at home for the rest of your life.

you make your way to the base yet again but this time they’ve reached their breaking point, you realize y’all both are finally reaching the point for y'all to both climax you instantly lift yourself off his thick cock, causing him to then cum on your back.

Y’all sit there, dizzy and light headed.

Your brains still foggy from the climax,

John leans in for another kiss, you complied and kissed him yet again,

The way they connected so perfectly melts your heart.

He finally breaks the kiss and peepers one onto your forehead.

“Smart girl…”

He whispers as he gently traces his fingers along your face.

you kiss him softly on his cheek and yawn.

John then realized the movie was finally over.

He picks you up and Carries you up the stairs to your room, he places you onto the bed and cleans you up.

He sits on the side of the bed and leans down the kiss your head,

“Good night princess, have sweet dreams my love.”

He peppers one last kiss and gets onto his feet to head out until you call out for him.

“Please lay with me for a bit… please John…”

you say as you ruffle around in your sheets.

John, with a sigh, makes his way over to the other side, scooting closer to you to cuddle under the covers.

you turn over and look at him, his warm embrace giving your butterflies.

you starts playing with his hair,

“You're so handsome John…”

“Thank you princess.”

#john wick imagine #john wick x reader #john wick x you #keanu reeves #⋆keanureevesw1fe #fanfic #keanu reeves fanfic

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

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All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 14

Hello, hello! Thank you to everyone who participated in WIP Wednesday yesterday! It was a blast. I got so much work done.

This mainly Steve centric. Did I write almost an entire chapter with Steve going to bat for Edie to beat out some childhood trauma of my dad never doing that despite doing it for my older siblings? Yes. Does it further plot? Not really. But it was cathartic anyway.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

***

Steve didn’t like talking to principals or teachers as a whole. They got harder to charm as time passed. He could charm hardened business men out of their hard earned cash, but for some reason teachers failed to be charmed him.

So instead of charming them, he decided that he would do it the Nancy Wheeler method and bowl them over with facts.

Principal Kim and Mr Pearson were waiting for him when he arrived. They both rose up to greet him and he shook both of their hands.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet with me,” he said seriously. “I understand that tracing a picture for the art show and for her assignment is a very severe offense. And I of course want to address those allegations as to not tarnish her reputation and make it harder for her to get into colleges and universities.”

Mr Pearson sneered. “You’d just buy her way into any school she wanted anyway.”

Steve locked eyes with Principal Kim and even she looked shocked.

“Excuse, Mr Pearson,” she began, “do I mean to understand that you feel that Edith Harrington bought her way into your art class?”

Mr Pearson’s jaw dropped, realizing he had said the quiet part out loud. “I didn’t mean to apply that she was without talent or merit. But the picture in question is too good for someone her level.”

Steve twisted his bottom jaw as he ran his tongue over his teeth slowly. “How do you feel about the pinprick method?”

Principal Kim frowned. “The what?”

Mr Pearson squirmed in his seat. “It’s method used by many artists when copying works to ensure the height and width of the subject are in the correct proportions.”

Principal Kim turned to Steve. “And you assert your daughter used this method on her most recent assignment?”

Steve nodded. “Yes, and I can prove it.” He turned to Mr Pearson. “You brought the picture with you like I asked, yes?”

Mr Pearson snarled and grabbed his messenger bag. He ripped it open and got out Edie’s picture she had done of Irises by Van Gogh. It was a beautiful piece that showed bright blue irises on the side of a road.

“Can you honestly tell me that she did that without tracing it first?” he asked gruffly. He threw on the principal’s desk.

“It’s very pretty,” she said.

“Did you see her trace it?” Steve asked, turning to the teacher.

“Excuse me?” Mr Pearson asked, straightening up in his chair. “Of course not! She wouldn’t dare trace it in class.”

“What did she do in class?” Steve asked, crossing legs and wiggling his shoulders as he got comfortable. “She had to do something, right?”

Mr Pearson scowled. “I have a class of twenty four students, I can’t be watching each one every second of every day,” he scoffed waving his hands.

Principal Kim nodded sympathetically. “That’s just the way it is, I’m afraid, Mr Harrington.”

Steve smiled. “Oh I don’t doubt it, herding teenagers is difficult in small groups, I can’t imagine tripling the amount of teenagers I used to chaperon around when I got out of high school. I completely understand.”

Mr Pearson eyed him warily. “And where are you going with this?”

“She had to check off certain stages of her work with you, did she not?” Steve said, bouncing his leg on his knee.

Mr Pearson frowned. “Of course she did.”

“And at any stage did her work so signs of it being traced?” Steve asked, a charming smile on his face.

“No.”

Principal Kim sighed. “Be that as that may, Mr Harrington, we’re going to need proof.”

“Why is burden of proof on Edie’s side?” Steve asked, giving her his big puppy-eyed, ‘I don’t understand’ face. “Shouldn’t it be on her accuser’s?”

Silence fell and Steve knew he had won. They couldn’t prove she traced. There was no evidence of something that didn’t happen.

Now it was time for the final blow. God he loved this part. He got out a large color art book of Vincent Van Gogh’s works. He flipped it over to the page that had the image of the painting Edie had used. He then pulled out a pocket knife and set on top of the page.

“One last thing,” Steve said. “Is the pinprick method allowed in the art show?”

Mr Pearson nodded.

He grinned and turned back to the principal. “This is the book Edie used to base her work on. If you’ll use the knife to cut out the page and hold it up to the light you will pinpricks and not trace marks.”

“That could be any book bought at any time!” Mr Pearson protested.

Steve nodded and got a couple more things out of his bag and handed them to the Principal Kim. “I have the original pictures on my phone, but they are too small to see the details.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to her.

She looked at the pictures showing the book that had a scuff on the cover and that the book in front of her had a large scuff right where Edie had dropped getting out the car the day he bought it for her.

There was no doubt it was the same book. She handed the pictures to Mr Pearson who was forced to concede that it must be the same book. She picked up the knife and then looked at Steve.

“And your daughter is okay with us defacing the book like this?” she asked, eyeing Steve skeptically.

Steve nodded. “She said to use whatever means necessary to clear her name. So go for it.”

Principal Kim sighed and deftly cut out the page. She handed the knife back to Steve and then lifted the page. Sure enough there were seven or eight pinpricks but not a single trace outline. If she had traced it there would be heavy indentations around each flower and there weren’t.

“Now,” Steve said leaning forward, “put Edie’s picture over the top to see if the prick holes match.”

Principal Kim did just that and sighed when they lined up perfectly. There was no doubt that Edie hadn’t cheated.

“Edith’s picture will be submitted to the art show and the mark expunged from her record. Mr Pearson will apologize to your daughter in front of the class.”

“What?” Mr Pearson cried, leaping to his feet. “I will do no such thing!”

“You will and I will be watching when you do,” Principal Kim said sternly, “or I will suspend you without pay until a full investigation is done to see if you have done this to other students.”

Mr Pearson’s jaw dropped and he sat back down quietly, hands on his lap.

Steve stood. “You may keep everything but my phone, if you need to convince the judges of the art show of the validity of her work.”

She nodded. They shook hands and then Steve gathered his things and walked out. Before he could even close the door, he could hear the principal tearing into Mr Pearson.

Steve was grinning and not paying attention to where he was going when he nearly bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry!” he said, holding up his hands in surrender.

“Steve?” Eddie asked. “What are you doing here?”

Steve looked up into those warm brown eyes and smiled. “Just convincing Principal Kim and Mr Pearson to let Edie’s pastel drawing back into the art show.”

Harri peered around his dad. “What? Really? Did you win?”

Steve grinned. “Sure did. If they had done an investigation instead of blinding following the word of one vindictive little girl, Mr Pearson wouldn’t be under scrutiny for doing similar things to other students.”

He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to his back foot. “I’m pretty sure if they looked deep enough, they’d find that he had been grading harsher for so called nepo babies. Children of rich parents that had generational wealth over those students that had nouveau-riche parents. Because he thought they had worked hard for their money.”

Eddie laughed. “And how would you know that?”

Steve grinned. “Because that’s what Nancy dug up for me when I asked.”

Eddie threw back his head and really laughed. “That would do it, yeah.”

Harri cocked his head to the side and frowned. “Who’s Nancy?”

Steve turned him with a soft smile. “She’s a world renowned journalist who your dad and me went to school with.”

“Sounds vaguely familiar,” he said with a shrug. “But that’s cool she helped you get Miss Thing’s art back in the show.”

“I called in a favor,” Steve said with a shrug.

“She owes you more than one favor,” Eddie grumbled.

Steve bit his lip and blushed. “She knows.”

Eddie grinned. “Good.”

“You guys want to come over and celebrate with us?” Steve asked. “The Lawrences are going to be there, as well as the Grants.” At their look of confusion he clarified. “Kenny’s family, the band’s keyboardist.”

Harri and Eddie looked at each other and then Harri nodded, while Eddie shrugged.

“Sure,” Eddie said. “I don’t see why not.”

Edie had gotten use to seeing Mr Munson at her house so often that sometimes it surprised her that Harri and him didn’t live there. That they actually lived elsewhere.

“Are you sure they aren’t dating?” Kenny asked one day at lunch. They were huddled together at their table away from the seething wrath of Lauren Duncan and her crowd of mean girls.

When it came out that Lauren was the tattletale the whole art class turned on her. And straight up ignored her when she would even so much as ask for the eraser to be handed to her.

But that ostracizing only made her vicious out of class. Bumping into Edie to get Edie to drop her stuff or even fall. Putting hate mail in her lockers. Whispering to her friends behind her hands.

Though she tried knocking Edie’s lunch tray out her hands only the once. Edie was quick enough to shove the tray right in Lauren’s face. And what made it even better is that she couldn’t claim that Edie had done in purpose because then she would have to explain why she was that close to Edie in the first place. And after her week suspension for falsely accusing Edie of wrongdoing, she couldn’t afford more trouble. So she stuck to the little things.

Harri sighed. “I honestly don’t know, man.”

Edie nodded. “They go out to lunch every Monday. And it’s gotten to the point where Vanessa, my dad’s secretary won’t even schedule anything for that time.”

Harri nodded. “I think we eat dinner more often at your house then we do my own. And I like my house!”

Mandy nodded. “I mean our dads still hang out, but now Mr Munson tags along too. My dad said that he’s seen more of Mr Munson in the last month then he has the last decade.”

They all nodded.

“Let’s not forget Mr Munson staying for practice instead of dropping Harri off and coming back later,” Brian said, poking at his food, pushing it around on his plate. “We always have to break them up when we’re done so Harri can go home.”

“When summer starts,” Mandy said, “We should test it, see how it takes for them to notice we’re done.”

They nodded again.

“But when I ask my dad,” Edie said, “all he’ll say is that he’s sworn off dating so it can’t be a date.”

Harri threw his arms in the air. “My dad is no better. He keeps telling me that Papa was it for him, and second chances only happen once in a life time and he’s already had his.”

“They are so stubborn, I swear,” Edie huffed. “But we all promised that we wouldn’t interfere in their relationship.”

Kenny straightened up. “You guys promised that. I didn’t.” He grinned. “And I think I know just how to do it.” He put on his backpack and grabbed his tray. “I’ll talk to you guys, later.”

***

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Epilogue

Also, I had something similar happen to me with a different Van Gogh painting Giant Peacock Moth, only I was in middle school and it was just kids being grumpy the French teacher didn’t care. It was just away to teach us about the French artists movement of the 1800s. I still have it somewhere.

Also: Harri isn’t in trouble, he’s going to see the principal and his guidance counselor because some of his credits from his Cali school didn’t transfer.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @trashpocket @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @mightbeasleep @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @trashpocket @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @steddie-as-they-go @lillemilly @callas-shitshow @bisexualdisastersworld @renaissan-vvitch @immortal-iratze @bookbinderbitch @cardigangoth @lilacrobin @nightmareglitter @nerdsconquerall

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #reconnecting years later AU #ladykailtiha writes

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dreamyzhou · 3 months ago

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Two Pawn War

Pairing: enemy!chanhee and fem!reader

Genre: worn out students!enemies to friends (?) AU

Words: 4,3k

Warnings: both you and Chanhee are high school students and are enemies there, verbal abuse from mother, substances, talks about mental health, mention of clowns, terminologies of chess, pre-calculus (you will still understand even if you don’t understand any of them deeply)

Inspired by: Law and Order SVU (Season 10 Episode 12) and my own experiences

Premise: You were high school students, yearning for a mother’s love. You’d do anything for it, even if it meant antagonising a boy for a conditional one. As you grew older, you both realised none of the fights were worthy… might as well be with one another.

Dedicated to three people. First, a fellow Chanhee-biased, Sana @sanaxo-o. Second, the chaotic Izzy @from-izzy who still bombarded my discord and this account despite me being inactive. Finally, Mona @quaissants, my closest friend out of the server. This took me almost 4 months to write, because I was heavily depressed, but you brought me back up.

Tagging: @deoboyznet

2nd of 31st Alternate Universe by Ellie unlocked by Chanhee.

You were a puppet. A doll orchestrated to compliment your mother’s image. You had your own life, but living it didn’t matter. You didn’t win anything if you reached your own dream, since you spent about seventeen years not knowing what they were. All you wanted was your mother’s love and there was hope to get it. As long as you did whatever she asked, her love will be earned.

She ignored you every morning until you came back with a 100 on a test paper or anything equivalent to that. In return you get acknowledgements… of your existence. While your friends thought knowing one’s existence is the least anyone can do when having a parent-child relationship, for you it was a reward.

Though, something changed one time. You remembered when it was the start of Year 1 of Junior High. A woman and her son appeared to apply for the school. Your mother happened to be there to check for that year’s syllabus and the extracurricular lists, a habit that she happened to be obsessed with. When your mother and this one woman saw each other, you swore you never saw two people turn so sour as they saw each other. She approached that woman with you following her, clueless

“What is this, Choi? Stalking my daughter now, is that it?” Her mouth foamed from anger’s toxicity.

“Oh please…” That woman laughed wickedly at your Mum, probably the only person you had seen to ever do that. You were a little impressed for a second.

“Do you think you and your daughter are worth stalking? This school is the best school in the country. I’m pretty sure you admitted her here for the name, not to take advantage of the intelligence the school can put in her head.”

“You need to watch your mouth. One of these days, someone is going to attack you for it.”

“Ma’am, is there a problem here?” There was a man with a black shirt with trousers with the most pockets you’ve seen, and a belt with a security stick.

“No… These two might be attacking me, but all they end up doing is tickling me. It’s hilarious. Let’s go, Chanhee.” As the woman and the son left accompanied by the security officer, your mother positioned herself to be in front of you and locked her eyes on yours.

“Listen to me. I don’t give a damn what you have to do, you come home better than the kid, you hear me? If he got 100 in a Math test tomorrow, you come home 100 average in the whole Math course—”

“But why? Who are they?” Your mom leaned to your face with hers that expressed great disgust, as if speechless that a kid cut her words off.

“Should I put your mattress on the porch, Y/N?” The anxiety rose, starting to take your breaths away, choking your throat.

“No, Ma’am.” Your voice broke a little. She corrected her posture in front of you.

“Good. Don’t let me down.” She left you to go to the car.

You didn’t go with her, since you knew she’d be surprised you had the nerve to go to the car with her, when you were supposed to walk to your summer tutoring class. It was not because she didn’t love you enough to drive you there willingly… right?

You joined the sword battle reluctantly, thinking that if you brought a spoon, the battle shouldn’t have to exist within you and him.

But no.

You learned as soon as you took out your hand for him to shake and from the way he just stared at it and didn’t introduce his name, he was bringing his own Excalibur.

It felt like he, too, was with your Mum in this one.

You learned quickly that his name was Choi Chanhee. Your mother applied you to more than the maximum number of extracurricular activities a student can apply for in the school. You were never allowed by your Mum to go back home with a wrinkle on your uniform to show your diligence as a person. No button is off from the collar or loosened messy tie to show potential rebellion phase in puberty age.

You had to show up to school, proving you were the best. All that, when you already were. You just weren’t the best in your mother’s eyes.

Snap!

You’d been a little bit too focused on how you’ve gotten in this chair lately. One minute, you were thirteen, seeing Chanhee for the first time. Next, you were in the present time, seventeen years old in the final year of high school. The kids were exiting the class, talking about the meal they were going to have for brunch. While you just stood there, taking a photographic memory of what was written on the chalkboard.

“Find the centre and vertices of the hyperbola… square root of eleven-X…” You were whispering to yourself, but truth be told, this was what you called anxiety rush.

You were speeding with your terrible handwriting, taking just one question out of the five presented by Ms. Hong, making sure you picked the most difficult one so that you were sure you could solve the other four if you could solve the one you picked.

Done!

You left your seat and went to the back of the classroom, once all the students emptied out the room. There were lockers for students who studied in the room. You opened Locker 18, taking this used vitamin bottle. You stopped to look at the five pills inside: three orange capsules, and two white tablets.

You were running out.

You shut your eyes feeling the guilt of ruining your body as your throat felt the bitter bits. Effects weren’t instant but you could feel the hypersomnia creating bigger sacks of blue eyebags caused by the white Provigil and the plastic-tasted Adderall.

Clang!

Shutting off the locker drawer, you walked to the cafeteria with hands trembling; a usual habit your body owns when you feel like you have sinned. You had to put up the “just-like-any-other-day” face, but deep down? It was… something that shouldn’t have been normal.

Eating with Jacob, Kevin, and Eric was the only thing that made you feel human. There were 3 kids acknowledging that you deserve them and maybe to share stories and food. They were there when you didn’t want the other kids to understand your talks in English.

“So, finals in 2 weeks… wanna study at mine when school’s over?” Kevin suggested.

“Sure!” Jacob smiled gently.

“I’m down. I don’t have a basketball club today.”

“Sorry. Chess.” The three fell silent whenever the word ‘chess’ came out of your mouth.

They knew what it meant. Duels with Chanhee that always ended up with upset nights and sometimes verbal fights with Chanhee. Mr. Ryu might be impressed how genius both of you are in playing chess, but oh the grey hair that grew out of the teacher’s scalp when you both fought.

Chess came eventually. Mr. Ryu believed competition is the best way to better oneself, which you didn’t agree with entirely. He forgot the harm in self comparison when competition happens, which makes competition ineffective sometimes. His principle resulted in you being paired with Chanhee, since the competition results were too constant. You could have 4 terrific wins, but he would catch up with his own 4 just-as-terrific wins.

So there you were, in front of Chanhee, not even bothered to stare at each other. You placed the black wooden pieces on the chess board. In times like these, where you prepare yourself for extracurricular class, Mr. Ryu hated waiting. Before the class started, Mr. Ryu expected all the pieces to be on top of the board, ready to be played. This resulted in those who were paired together to help out their opposition across the board to put on the chess pieces.

Both of you were petty, though. Things like helping out would never happen.

“Alright, today I want you both to play, the winner will get a higher score by 5 points in their extracurricular grade if you play without using the ‘pawn-centre-square’ method as your first 5 moves, to earn another 2 points. Please start strategizing. The first person to tell me they're ready to play is to play against their opponent, even when the opponent isn’t ready with their own strategy. Then, all of us watch their match. We’ll discuss mistakes and blunders. Today’s focus is about having the upper hand when it comes to strategizing from the beginning. This is what makes a good chess player. Whether or not you can fool your opponent in the beginning to make them fall for your traps. Whether or not your vulnerable moves confuse them enough for them not to capture you when you are at those moves. The lesson lies in your mind games and strategizing skills.” Mr. Ryu explained the task.

“Ready!” You quickly said, not knowing Chanhee said the same thing.

“As usual. All right, gather around kids! Let’s watch the prodigies.” You hid a wince, the word no longer pleasant to hear but only brought heavy pressure on your shoulders.

Chanhee had the white pieces so he moved first. As soon as he placed the pawn in front of his king piece, so did you, but by 2 squares. Then he moved his pawn in front of his knight piece.

“Mistake.” A high-pitched voice exclaimed.

“Nope.” Mr. Ryu replied to the student, which was something you wished you could deny at the time, but you weren’t sure.

You moved your bishop piece to B4, where you can capture a pawn in front of the queen. He moved his knight to F3, which confused you.

“Uh… Mistake?” Someone hesitantly said, while you deep down thought it wasn’t. It was more of a move that could make or break a long-game takeover plan, which you had to figure out by now.

You moved your bishop from B4 to get rid of the pawn Chanhee had on D2, the one that was in front of his queen, making a check on his king.

“Check!” You said.

“Doesn’t mean anything if your strategy is too easy to figure out and your mind is too vulnerable to be read. Chanhee has the upper hand from the beginning.” Just from Mr. Ryu’s words…. you got a déjà vu.

Snap! You’d been a little bit too focused on how you’ve gotten in this chair lately— Clang! Shutting off the locker drawer, you walked to the cafeteria with hands trembling; a usual habit—

“Blunder…” You whispered as your eyes widened at your bishop’s position.

“What were you thinking, Dollie?” Mr. Ryu asked, gently.

You checked the class calendar. It was Wednesday. You had Chess. You had to be at your best when you go against Chanhee. You shouldn’t had taken those pills. What is happening?

“Continue, Chanhee…” Mr. Ryu said. It was obvious what Chanhee’s next move was.

His queen captured your bishop…. You didn’t know what to do. You had to go back to one of your pawns and let them do their frontline jobs. You moved the pawn in front of the queen also by 2 squares to the front.

“Extra 2 points coupon is no longer valid, because you used the ‘pawn-centre-square’ method on the 4th move.” Now all you were was a prodigy who just lost their intelligence and dignity because of 2 wooden chess pieces.

You could feel your brain tightened and loosened in the pace of your elevated heartbeat. Pounding. Soon enough, the bell rang, you looked behind you, but then the students were bewildered as they shot their stares onto you. The ringing lost its vibrations and turned into a flatlining machine sound. You could feel your neck getting hot and sweating, even when it was a chilly autumn day.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Mr. Ryu asked.

Gravity was pulling you down to the ground. You knew the floor wasn’t going to be a cushion, but you couldn’t fight where your body wanted to take you. So you closed your eyes as you felt heavy, landing on the wooden floor, not even fighting yourself.

“Y/N!” The last sound coming out of a student’s voice before the world distorted in your eyes and the shadows of unconsciousness dimmed the lights in your body, putting you to sleep.

Even in your dreams, everything was pitch black. You realised your body grew tired of this competition. You realised the girl who used all of her to beat one boy for the sake of proving her worth to her mother is gone. The body that gave up its night time sleep for the sake of one more Chemistry homeworks, the hand that wrote Trigonometry formulas faster than anybody, and the eyes that had determination to follow words in Literature books from left to right so rapidly, the ears that listen to Economy lecture finally grew tired of the words like ‘stocks’ and ‘values’.

You woke up in the first aid room, vision spinning as if you were the centre of the universe, motion blurring as you felt like your brain in the clouds, floating and light, but pounding along with the drum of your heartbeat.

Your mother was there, fighting with your school’s principal and the school’s nurse. The tension and the noise only added to the pain on your head. You grunted, catching the attention of the three fighting adults.

“Let's go.” Your mother gave an unreadable, cold tone.

You knee what your worst fear was, but you didn’t know what it felt like. For years, you avoided it by scoring 4.0 GPA for every year, being the top student, even going to an intelligence-measuring war with a boy. So now that it was happening, you lost the abilities to do all of those. You lost the one thing you needed in order to be your mother’s daughter: your mind.

“Mum—”

“Shut your mouth. Follow me home.” Your mother turned around and walked, not even looking back knowing she got you wrapped around her finger in the name of fear.

The principal and the nurse looked down on the floor, surrendering too. You got off the creaky bed, vision still spinning. Grabbing your heavy backpack, you felt your legs couldn’t even strengthen themselves for you to walk properly. You saw a digital clock that displayed the day of the week: FRI, 09:18 AM. Okay, what the hell? Despite the bewilderment, you ran after your mother with those weak legs and shifting centre of gravity.

“Mum, please wait—” You fell on the wooden floor of the locker hallway.

Just in time, the kids in school were exiting from every door to the hallway. It was break time and every student could see the commotion of you on the ground. Your mother spun to face you and approached. She lifted her right shoe, bringing your jaw up. It was probably the most gentle, yet the most humiliating action she had ever done to you. Most students locked their curious gaze on you and froze in their place, gasping and murmuring.

“You’re not my kid.”

These four syllables rolled easily and clearly from her mouth. She wore this expression that somehow showed the whole school that if you ever claim her your mother… it would be humiliating to her.

You looked around, faces of pity were on you like creepy clowns haunting kids from afar, except this time in a large volume.

However… you caught him right there. Black hair, pale skin, small face, gentle soft features. It was the first time you saw him wearing a shocked and empathetic expression.

You hated it.

You were at the rock bottom, but you were being pulled away to Mariana Trench where you wouldn’t ever come back. You failed so much that your enemy had chosen to give you empathy. You failed so much that your mother was disowning you in a commotion with everyone’s eyes on the both of you as if she was setting a good example.

You were ruined… Who do you live for, now?

Who do you fight Chanhee for, now? Who do you get good grades for, now? All these questions had no answer, but one thing you knew certainly was… the person you fought everything for… never fought for you.

Maybe that was why this public disowning act felt like a tight chain busting from your chest. You were finally breathing… and free.

She turned around and walked away. You slowly got up and stood where you were. Letting the backpack slip away from your arms, you looked at her back once more.

“HARGH!” You roared, throwing the bag to her back.

She turned around in disbelief, eyes wide at yours, frozen in place.

“And you were never a mother! Let alone mine!” Your throat tightened as you shouted.

You shook your head slowly, tears flowing on your cheeks. It felt your ribs were imploding and tightening your heart.

“How could a mother make her child treat home like a shop for love and the child has to pay with good grades as currency? How could a mother tell her child to beat her competitor’s son by making sure the child goes to school solely for that purpose? As if the child is nothing but a soldier to deploy for war that she never caused!” Your throat hurt as you screamed, expressing to the world how much pain you went through.

A warm tear slipped on your cheek. You usually felt embarrassed to even tremble in front of everybody, but this time ‘care’ was no longer present. Your mother bit the insides of her cheeks, eyes widening in rage, fists clenching.

“Will you even love me if I’m not smart?” You choked, waterfall streaming from your eyes to your jaw.

“Y/N, don’t bring up love. I loved you enough to put up with you. You just don’t respect me enough to come back home and repay it. I hope you know it’s equal to unrequited mother-daughter love.” She walked away once more.

It was then you knew you weren’t welcomed home anymore. Yet, the feeling evoked after knowing so was like a liberty given to a pet on a leash. It was like… the world was really your oyster now and you knew there were going to be pearls.

You looked around once more, locking your eyes with Choi Chanhee. Why were there… tears on his cheeks?

“Hey… We can stay with you at Jacob’s house tonight…” Kevin held your shoulders as Eric and Jacob surrounded you, shielding you from the sharp pierces of pity gazes.

The night passed with your friends, trying hard to lift your mood up. It was only then they realised after your body was glued to the spare bed Jacob had for about 3 hours, that this was more than a mood downhill. This was a life downhill. They realised that as much as they were your friends since forever, they could never understand the pressure of impressing for the sake of receiving, supposedly, mandatory parental love.

That was how they came into Jacob’s bedroom with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s for each person. Eric gave your favourite pint of flavour, while sitting on the lower bunk bed across the bunk bed you occupied. Jacob and Kevin hiked up the top, scooping the cold dessert.

“Spill your thoughts, girlie.” Kevin said.

You sat up, throat bubbling with groans.

“You all saw what happened…”

“No, we don’t mean that one.” Jacob gently responded as he scooped his own spoonful of ice cream.

“Yeah… we meant the Chess class on Wednesday until this morning. How come you blacked-out for two days?” Eric’s eyes were a pair that thought there was something fun or dramatic to know about.

“I’ve been… using medications to stay awake and study.” The revelation shocked the three boys in front of you.

“...Do..." Kevin hesitated. "Do you need help?”

Opening the pint, you scooped up your favourite flavour. That was when you saw that happiness lost its definition. It was as if seeing black and white in a world full of rainbows. Tasting the neutrality of water in a world full of Ben and Jerry’s and cakes. You lived for a baseless baseline until it went flatline.

“...Yeah. I think I do.” Tears started streaming.

For four months, with the help of your Anglophone friends, you were progressing in tapering off. Staying under the Bae family’s roof, you somehow became the little sister that they adopted. Your mother never reported it as kidnapping whatsoever. Though it looked like her new journal paper that talked about the theory of time became a good expression of her anger towards you.

But during those four months, you quitted something else other than your overproductivity pills: Choi Chanhee. You left every club where Chanhee was in. Never again did you challenge Chanhee in every teacher’s question.

But it seemed like Chanhee was the one experiencing withdrawal because of it. He was the one with tears as the school ended. He was the one who couldn’t chew his food in the canteen.

Another rising sun for this old Earth, you were early in school, playing chess on your own. For once chess wasn’t something to dread, but something fun just like the purpose of a game should be. But soon, the door behind you creaked. You looked behind you and saw a surprised Chanhee.

This was weird. You had unleashed yourself from academic pressure that shouldn’t exist and you took liberty for yourself, but somehow it made your relationship with Chanhee strange, but you couldn’t point where.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” You felt curiosity tilting your head.

“What do you mean?” Chanhee walked to the chair in front of you and sat.

“Apparently, we don’t know each other at all. Despite making each other our mission to finish when we wake up and go to school… we don’t know anything about each other.” He was right.

Maybe that was the point where it was weird.

You nodded slowly, but also indicated for him to keep talking.

“... I’m like you, you know…” Chanhee tidied the pieces you finished playing with.

“I go home, telling my mother the bounty-hunting result— if you will. Then, I get my cash. Wasn’t like other kids who love seeing dead presidents on coloured paper. Just want the invisible warmth of a recognition coming from one woman.” Chanhee then put the pieces on the chess board, according to their places; his side was the white one.

“But… why? Education got me far enough to tell me that nobody should live to serve a person that deeply. I get it, you know… I’m a child. I need her love, her attention— The things that a juvenile inmate lacks from a mother, I need it. But… from a woman who expects me to be good first?” Chanhee looked up to your eyes.

“Why…” He disguised his cracked voice with a whisper.

“But just so you know… without you, I lost something too.” Chanhee cleared his throat after whispering those words.

“We don’t know each other, yet after freeing ourselves from Mommy… we end up freeing ourselves from each other…. when we don’t even know each other.” Chanhee placed one of his pawns forward that blocked his queen, two squares in front.

“When we don’t even know ourselves…” He placed yours that blocked your king, also two squares, now adjacent to his that he moved.

“.... because we were so lost…” His pawn knocked yours down, making it lie horizontal on the board.

Then, he took his queen and placed it beside his pawn that he used.

“....in impressing our little queen.”

The sight of the three pieces in the centre of the board resembled her life… and apparently his as well. A queen mother tall and enjoying the sight of the knocked down enemy with her pawn.

“We forget that life had other pieces and that we were in control. That we played the pieces and we were not the pieces itself. When you’re not the pawn, the game goes on because the player doesn’t die. We forget that though life is not a game— just like chess sometimes may not just be a game, it may be a career or a hobby to invest in— we can still be supportive of one another during checkmate.” Chanhee looked at you once more.

“We were so lost in the wrong war… that all we know of is the ugliness— the desperation of wanting to live on and in war like these… especially like our pawn…. you play with your life. We were so lost that I only know your violence… but once that war is done…. I don’t know who you are behind that galea.”

Chanhee leaned back to his seat then watched the birds during the spring sunrise.

“I lost my purpose in life because of that. And my Mum is getting busier. She gets even more jealous with your mother with that new theory of time paper. These days, I don’t come here to earn her love anymore. And it seems like you don’t want to be in this war. And you know what? I get it… It’s peaceful… No more war…” Chanhee turned his head to you.

“It’s not worth it… Not worth getting stressed out for… My Mum’s love I mean…” Chanhee lent out his hand for a handshake.

“So again…. Now that the war's over... Toss that galea away like a graduation cap. Let's get to know each other... Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Somehow, that was the most peaceful speech you ever heard. It felt like forgiveness by the gods and now your life would be a bit easier. You no longer had to wonder why won’t we work out, even as friends?

You smiled and shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you too, Chanhee.”

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