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#this has been math class with t
teammightypen · 2 months
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Hi, friendly neighborhood math teacher here to explain how one would solve the math problem from the Last Stand. (This is for those who, like Emily, may have seen it and just shut down. It’s actually quite simple.)
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It helps to draw out a diagram. Here we have a simplified diagram with all of the information we’re given.
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But we can’t start to find when these trains collide yet. The Elmville train leaves 25 minutes before the Bastion City train. Let’s fast forward 25 minutes to see how far the Elmville train has travelled at the time that the Bastion City train leaves the station. Since it’s moving at 60mph, that’s an easy conversion to 1 mile/minute. In 25 minutes, it travels 25 miles.
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That leaves 110 miles of track between these two trains. One is traveling at 60mph and the other at 70mph, so they are closing that distance at a combined 130mph. Now that we have those two numbers, we need to decide whether our answer will be if they close this distance in 110/130 hours or 130/110 hours.
Did you know that you can manipulate labels just the same as you would variables? Check it out, here’s how we know the right fraction to use.
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We can see the label of miles on the numerator and denominator of this fraction, which means they can ‘cancel out’. Now we’re left with inverse hours on the denominator, which is the same as normal hours on the numerator.
You might also, in a less mathematical way, see that they trains will close 110 miles at 130mph, since that’s not 130 miles it will not take a full hour, and 110/130 is less than one while 130/110 is more than one.
Now some calculations to find how long 110/130ths of an hour actually is. For simplification of calculation, I used 11/13ths instead. It’s the same value.
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So 11/13ths of an hour as a decimal is .84615 hours. Multiply that by 60 to convert to minutes and you have 50.769 minutes. But we want the exact value, so multiply .769 of a minute by 60 to convert that into seconds, and you get 46 seconds. So the trains collide 50 minutes and 46 seconds after the Bastion City train leaves the station. Add the time we found to 5:30 to find that they collide at exactly 6:20:46.
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vamptastic · 10 months
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Um one thing Abt college in florida is that everyone has been telling me nooooo you don't need to leave the state every college in florida is a liberal haven and nobody will care and Uh turns out they do care a fair amount and its mostly the same environment as high school bc im an engineering major and engineering dudes are fucking awful
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growup-thatbeautiful · 10 months
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I LOVED your gym crush Dave lizewski fanfic!! If possible could you do a bimbo reader and Dave fic where reader needs help in whatever the case may be and gets horny around Dave and fucks him? Sorry for the sudden request
Of course lovely! 🧡
Warnings: sexual content, cursing, oral (m receiving), mdni
“Thank you so much for doing this,” you tell him when he opens the door. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“I think you would manage,” he replies, letting you inside. He looks good now, in his element, away from the jeers and teasing of his classmates and friends. The softness of his sweats and the tightness of his t-shirt makes him look so homey. It’s what you’re used to.
“My grades don’t agree.” It’s no secret to your school that you struggle in most, if not all of your classes. It’s not because you don’t try; you really really do. It’s just never been easy for you to understand what the teachers are talking about.
When you got sat next to Dave in math, you thought he would tease you like the others smart kids do. But he didn’t- he offered to help instead of you didn’t understand, and most of the time you don’t. Hence your arrival at his house, donning a lace tank top and shorts.
Dave’s not like the other guys you know. When he sits you down at his kitchen table, a paint-covered tablecloth on top of it, he offers you tea. Tea. Most guys offer you booze or water.
You try to pay attention, you really do. But you don’t understand what he’s talking about. You didn’t get it the first time, and you haven’t gotten it the second time. You want to let off some steam, and math isn’t helping. You’re frustrated and pent up.
It doesn’t help that you keep getting distracted. You didn’t realize it in class, but Dave’s so pretty. His long lashed and the restless curls on his head just beg for you to ruin him. It should be as sinful as it is when his deft, calloused fingers trace the numbers on the page; you can feel them running patterns over your skin, waiting until you’re begging for him to touch you where you need it most. His lips look so soft, kissable. You want them everywhere.
There’s a tightening in your core that has you digging your heels into the tiled flooring, your thighs pushing down against the wooden chair. God, it’s unfair. He’s trying his best to explain this to you, and you can’t stop thinking about how his hands would feel in between his legs.
“Does that make sense?” he asks, his head tilted to the side. Your mind helpfully supplies puppy dog. Shit. You’re supposed to be paying attention to math.
“Uh,” you say. “Yes?”
“Great,” he smiles, sounding genuinely excited for you to understand. He’s so sweet.
“Dave,” you start, a whine in your tone, “Can we take a break? It’s been forever since we started.”
“It’s been thirty minutes,” he says, a frown appearing between his brows. Instinctively, you reach out and smooth it down with your finger, red nail polish against his skin. Other than the flickering of his eyes, he doesn’t move.
It’s your chance. Slowly, like you’re trying not to scare him, your hand creeps around to cup his cheek. “Is this okay?” you ask him.
“Yes,” he breathes. If that wasn’t enough, he brings his own hand up to slide up your shoulder, holding your neck. “Is this?”
“You fucking kidding?” you say. “Fuck yes, Dave. Please.”
“What’re you asking me for, baby?” he murmurs. “What do you want?” Fucking hell. He can’t know how absolutely profane those words sound coming out of his mouth.
“Your fingers,” you answer immediately. The blush that finds its way to his cheeks is beautiful and so unbelievably hot. You want to see it over and over again.
“Yeah?” he asks, laugh in his voice. “You want me to make you feel good?”
Your enthusiastic nod is all it takes for him to grab your thigh, repositioning you so that you’re on his lap, your legs straddling his. It’s uncomfortable and the kitchen table is digging into the small of your back, but it feels right.
It feels even better when he runs his hands along your waist, his lips scattering marks on your collarbone. You’ll have bruises tomorrow, but you can’t seem to make yourself care. Based on the noises you’re making Dave can tell.
But it’s not enough. It’s so, so good but it’s not what you want. Apparently, you’re transparent because Dave has mercy. His hands, warm from their contact with your skin underneath your shirt, slide underneath the waistband of your shorts, putting pressure onto the bundle of nerves that makes you see goddamn stars. One finger, then two, stretch you open, a delicious burn that has your hips chasing more.
Your head falls forward to catch his lips in a kiss, and when that’s too much you rest it in the crook of his neck and listen to the little encouragements he whispers into you ear.
Doing so good for me, baby.
Just like that, honey.
If you were with anyone else, they wouldn’t be doing this. He’s taking his time, making you feel good. You’re shaking and sharing his breaths and it’s all too much-
And the dam inside you bursts with enough force to stop your breathing. Your eyes screw shut and his name is the only thing you can remember. You don’t know if you’re chanting it out loud, but you don’t care. Dave, Dave, Dave.
“My turn,” you breathe when you finally get your breath back, your knees hitting the floor before he can say another word. His legs are spread wide, opening inviting you. His hands rest uncertainly above your hair, which you quickly fix by bringing them to tangle in your locks.
Slipping his sweats down just enough, you leave kisses on the underside of his cock through his briefs, paying special attention to lick at the growing wet spot.
You know he’s impatient, but too still too sweet to do anything about it, so you push his underwear down enough for his cock to spring out, flushed a pretty, angry red.
Humming, you take his head in your mouth, bobbing your head before taking more of him, the salty taste of him on your tongue.
“Fuck,” he groans above you, his arm across his face. He’s breathing heavy already, his shirt plastered to his chest with sweat.
It doesn’t take long for him to come from your mouth; you know what you’re doing and he doesn’t seem to have any problem letting you know that. With your heel digging into your clothed cunt, you slide a finger along your folds, heat blooming underneath your touch as you listen to his noises. When you moan, your mouth full of him, his head tips back against the chair and his thighs flex.
“Shit, baby, I’m-” is all je manages to get out before he comes, filling your throat and dripping down your chin. His eyes flutter back in his head, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge a second time with him, soaking your hand and the remaining integrity of your underwear.
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately when he gets his voice back, pulling you up on his lap. “I shouldn’t have-”
“It’s okay,” you assure him. “I wouldn’t have let you.”
“Yeah?” he asks, double checking your face for any signs of upset. When he doesn’t find any, an easy, bashful grin finds its way to his face. “Do you want a change of clothes?”
“Sure.” Suddenly, a thought occurs to you, horror flooding your mind. “Your dad isn’t home, right?”
“No,” he laughs. “He’s working. We have the house to ourselves.”
Your mind is slow with the aftermath of two orgasams, and your movements are slow and uncoordinated. You feel fuzzy and good; better than you’ve felt in a long time.
Maybe math tutoring isn’t so bad.
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justasimpleton-26 · 2 months
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Jason Todd x Reader: College life
College had stressed you out to the point where you considered a life of crime.
Don't get you wrong; you didn't want to commit any type of crimes or fight anyone of the BatFamily, but how were you going to use Geometry in real life?
You were so focused on stressing over your upcoming exams that you weren't paying attention when you bumped into someone.
You used the term "someone" very loosely; for all you know, the marble statue was dressed in cool clothes by some student as a joke.
It isn't until the statue turns to look at you that you realize that holy shit this is an actual human being.
A very buff person, but human all the same.
He has spiky jet black hair that sticks up in random places, his bangs colored stark white. Emerald green eyes peer down at you as this man looks over six feet tall, his body bulky with muscle.
The guy wears a faded black t-shirt that looks almost gray, his pants faded and biker boots shoved on.
"...miss?" the guy asks, making you shake yourself out of ogling him some more.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" she'd asked, and he chuckled.
"I was asking if you were lost." the guy repeated, and you blushed, trying not to make it noticeable that you were blushing.
"Sorry, I live on campus so I know my way around. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going which is why I bumped into you. Sorry about that by the way." you rushed to explain, bringing your book closer to your chest.
"Ah, I see. I'm Jason by the way." the guy-Jason-said, as he moved his book and a graded paper to his left hand as he held out his right to shake her hand.
You took it but couldn't help but notice that he was holding a geometry book, and the graded worksheet on top was actually a geometry test with high marks.
An idea planted in your brain, so you looked up at the genius giant, and tried to not make it seem like you were desperate for help. (Which you were, Jason didn't need to know that.)
"Hi Jason, um, look this is going to seem random, but I was wondering if you could maybe tutor me in geometry?" you asked, secretly hoping against hope that he would say yes.
Jason blinked, as if the question had caught him off guard.
"How did you know-" then he looked at the paper and book he was carrying and nodded as if that made sense. "Yeah, sure, meet me at the college library once your done with all your classes."
You thanked him profusely, and there was even a skip in your step as you headed back to your next class, leaving Jason behind.
It's not until you're having your bride and groom dance that Jason admits that the geometry book and test was actually Roy's and he'd been carrying his stuff when you approached him.
You're in disbelief and ask Jason if he was even good at math, and he chuckles before he gazes into your eyes.
"I am now, Roy tutored me." Jason answers.
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fawnprincessblog · 2 months
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𝒜𝓃𝓰𝓮𝓁'𝓈 𝒹𝓮𝓋𝓮𝓁𝓸𝓅𝓂𝓮𝓃𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓇𝓎.
(part 1: 'the praise and some coffee') type: slow burn, fluff (tom kaulitz 2015 × fem reader)
includes : teacher × student, childish annoying immature school girl who's name is Angel (you), teacher tom, wannabe teacher's pet, age gap. tom is 25, angel is 17. plot : angel, a young, childish and innocent honour student was shunned by her schoolmates due to her being a teacher's pet, but none of that mattered whenever she ran into her favorite teacher, Tom, that she so deeply admired, who she swears on her life she will serve until the day she dies. despite being favourited by many other teachers, tom does not favour her due to her clingy behaviour. she may be smart but her hormones play a huge part in her schooling life as well.
bambi's note! : hello sweeties :3 i don't really wanna explain much but i think you guys will be sick of hearing the same lame excuse to why i disappear quite frequently. writer block makes me want to suicide sometimes, i've been trying my hardest to write, this took me months to finally put tgt. crazy that it's short too. i have drafts from last year in my docs. im also an art student, so it makes it hard to tackle both things rn. anyway, have fun reading part one of 'Angel's development diary ' :3
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“Everyone now turn to page 74,” Tom instructs, his voice sharp and echoing across the classroom. The whole room was silent, only he could be heard. Nobody would disrespect a man like him, for he was rather strict, and serious, his only intention being to get his point across and educate his students. That’s what the majority saw in him. 
Well, except for one person. That was Angel. The honour student of her class.
Angel saw what other people did not care about. Despite being the very sophisticated and refined teacher everyone knew, to her he was so much more. Tom was a young, 25 year-old Maths teacher. She admired that strong body structure of his, and the way his face features all fit together. The way his hair was always worn in a messy bun, a few strands poking out the front, had just added to his good looks. He wasn’t over-dressed, like those wannabe scientists-looking teachers in her physics classes; he was rather usually seen in t-shirts. On special occasions, she got to see him in a suit. 
He wasn’t the kind to play around. He expected all his students to pass his class with flying colours, not one left behind. In fact, all teachers wished the same. In such a popular and very high-class school, of course every single student had to be well-behaved and supremely knowledgeable.
The school Angel went to was one with a high standard of academic and extracurricular achievements. It has a strong emphasis on academics and often has a highly selective acceptance rate, which makes it difficult to get in. She was quite lucky. The campus has beautiful architecture, state-of-the-art facilities, and ample resources for students' academic and personal development. The faculty members are very well-educated and experienced in their respective fields, and the school often has a high student-teacher ratio. The students are often from wealthy families with a strong academic focus, and the school often boasts a high graduation rate. 
Coming from such a school that was great and had put Angel’s reputation in great hands meant no mistakes were to be made at all. She had to maintain her good grades. And one thing is for sure: she couldn’t possibly keep having dirty thoughts about her teacher. 
“Hey, you,” Tom called out, snapping his fingers twice. “Angel?” 
She snapped out of her trance almost immediately, a little startled by his tone. “Oh—yes?” she responds, heat evidently rising in her cheeks the moment he had called out her name. Oh, when he said her name, it only served to heighten her arousal. His voice was so strong and firm, it made her squirm in her seat like a damn worm. All those dirty thoughts wouldn’t go away. 
“Are you gonna pay attention? Or is daydreaming the only thing you like to do?” Tom asked, folding his muscular arms across his chest, staring right into her soul. He had this scary glare that usually put most students in fear, but to her, it was attractive. His dominant demeanour when teaching a lesson made her imagine all these horrendous things, like how he was in bed. 
“N-No—! Um, I was listening,” Angel responds, clearing her throat. She shifted a little in her seat, tugging at the hem of her red plaid skirt. She was wet. So uncomfortably wet and aroused, she would’ve probably left a stain on the chair if she had gotten up.
“I hope so,” Tom grunted, turning back to the chalkboard to continue writing those endless amounts of Math sums. It was overwhelming to look at; all of the numbers bunched together, the dusty residue of the chalk making it even worse. It was a lot to take in, however that was just how it was. 
His teaching continued, his voice loud and clear. Angel diligently started writing down her notes, trying to keep up with his pace. Being such a good student, she had become fond of his teachings, and she was expected to have one of the highest marks among the rest, even if everyone else was already good. 
An honour student. That’s what she was. Supposedly, she was the teacher’s pet. 
She did well, joined every possible club and involved herself in every school event, making sure she was obtaining high merit points that boosted her reputation in her school. Angel was simply a good little girl that most teachers did like, but the other students, and for some reason, Tom, did not like her. They found her exasperating. 
The bell rings. Class is over, and Tom is preparing a stack of worksheets to hand out to the class on the way out. “Alright class, tomorrow I wanna see all your worksheets full of numbers. All correct and no mistakes. I believe I’ve taught you all enough on this topic, so I expect perfect answers,” he announces. “You can pack up and leave now.” 
“Sir!” Angel calls out, rising from her seat abruptly, making everyone else pause from their packing up. Majority rolled their eyes. “You forgot to take attendance. Usually you take attendance every morning before class but since you forgot the checklist you said you would—”
“Right, right, okay,” Tom interrupts, an exasperated sigh followed right after. Clearly, he was pissed. Angel was quite aware that he disliked her try-hard behaviour, in fact, she was aware everyone did. Of course as an honour student she was made to please the teachers with good grades and behaviour, but the other students knew clearly she acted the most clingy around Tom. She saw past his strict demeanour and she acted like a child around him. Always trying to point out the simplest things, always reminding him about his meetings, always trying to get him his coffee, always trying to help him out at any damn chance she got— Angel was desperate and needy for his love. She was willing to make him love her. She wanted to be his favourite student. 
He notwithstanding, saw her as a confounded girl who was beating a dead horse. A try-hard, annoying, clingy little bitch that stuck to him like a damn tick. It irritated him when she acted like his little servant. 
But Angel liked it. She didn’t care. 
“Since you wanna help so much, get the checklist for me,” Tom tells her rather bluntly, clicking a pen in his hand as he speaks. Angel’s ears perk up at his request. “What? Really?” she asks, eyes full of joy. That annoying excited voice—it made his ears bleed.
“Go get it, it's in my office,” Tom says. “And hurry. Your classmates wanna leave class.” 
“Consider it done, sir!” she enthused, immediately dashing towards the door and running straight to his office. Like a little slave, she did everything for him.
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Recess time. One of the times where Angel would bother her favourite teacher the most. Even if she was trying to be helpful, she usually came off as a nuisance. He was an earnest and disciplined man, always keeping up with his set schedule. During break he’d grab coffee in the teacher’s lounge, discuss some things with his colleagues, or he’d take the coffee straight to his office so he can finish up paperwork. However he wasn’t the only one who kept to his schedule…
“Hi sir,” she greeted excitedly, grinning like an idiot. She blocked him, not allowing him to continue walking through the school hallway, which was empty since everyone else was at the cafeteria. “Where will you be taking yourself to today? Do you need help with anything?
He lets out a breath, trying his hardest to not let her irritate him right now. Angel being around him was something he couldn’t possibly avoid. It was an everyday thing now. “No,” he said simply. He then looked around. “Do I look like I need help?” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. Angel could tell, but she couldn’t be bothered. 
“You may not be holding anything that I could help you carry, but there’s other things I can help with,” Angel says. “Like, your coffee. Do you want me to get your coffee?” She was just so damn innocent  acting like a maid trying to please him with every chance she got. She really acted like life was all unicorns and rainbows, like she had not a single issue in the world.
“For the last time, I can get it myself. You’ve been asking this everyday now,” Tom sighs. “Shouldn’t you be eating? It’s recess. Go eat.”
“I already have,” Angel replies with that annoying giggle right after, making him clench his jaw. She was insufferable. That giggle was ingrained into his mind. He could recognise it from a mile away. 
“Okay, good. Now if you don’t mind, you can just mov—”
“One sachet of the coffee mix, two teaspoons of sugar and some milk to top it off,” she interrupted, making him raise an eyebrow. “You use the blue mug. Always the blue mug,” she added.
“You know my coffee?” he asked, a little disturbed by her knowledge on how he liked his coffee. His eyes narrowed to slits, peering at her.
“Yep,” she replies, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. To him, she was a complete stalker at this point. “You have about 12 minutes to go to the teacher’s lounge and get your coffee, and return back to your office to finish marking off the recent test you gave us before you have to rush to the meeting you have with Mr.Harrison about the new changes we’re making to the school’s mural art.” 
“What?” he said, almost wanting to laugh in disbelief. That was way too many words for him to comprehend. “You know my schedule?” 
“Well I memorised it,” she shrugged. “Tuesday’s and Fridays you stay in your office during break. All the other days you’re eating at the teacher’s lounge.
What the hell, he thought, looking at her with the most perplexed look he’s ever plastered onto his perfect face. “What are you doing, stalking me? My schedule is printed on paper and left in the drawer of my desk—”
“It’s also printed in my mind,” she joked, pointing a finger to her temple. 
He looks at her, bewildered. Completely uneasy. He didn’t like this. He knew she always had this weird thing for him, but he didn’t think she was this peculiar, knowing his schedule and all. Tom was taken aback by her behaviour, but he remained unruffled for now. It wasn’t too surprising, since she had been doing this for a while; asking him if she could get his coffee, but he had always declined. In the past, she had been randomly reminding him about his meetings, or anything he planned to do on that day, which he also found annoying, but today she really surprised him, wording out his entire plan for today.  
He cleared his throat. “Well, I know my own schedule, I don’t need you to tell me,” he says.
“I know. You’re very smart. But, I figured you’d like help,” she says, grinning. 
He had to get rid of her. This damn pest of a student. “I don’t. Not right now. So, If you don’t mind, Angel, please move aside so I can go.” He tries to walk past her, but she stubbornly blocks him again. 
“C’mon, I’m sure you need someone to get your coffee,” Angel insisted, looking at him with those set of pathetic eyes, ones that he insanely hated to look at. She was small, pretty, and sweet, but she was tiring. He didn’t like her. “Angel…” he sighed, wanting to snap at her, but he held back; he may be strict, but there was no reason to be shouting at a student who just wanted to help so badly, right? “...Fine. Get my coffee, bring it to my office. Now.” he finally relented, looking down at her rather annoyed that he had forced himself to give in. Oh, she really had her ways. 
“Yes, sir!” Angel exclaims, smiling widely, and she dashed off, disappearing immediately. Tom folded his arms, watching the pesky little girl run off to get his coffee like a slave. She obeyed him so much, wanting to do anything just for his attention. He chuckled a little, he couldn’t help himself.
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“One coffee,” she says, placing the blue ceramic mug onto his desk slowly, as if she were a waitress. Tom had been busy on his computer, going over some emails while waiting. She had returned rather quickly. Tom flashed her a faint smile, and he took the cup, taking a small sip. She had got it right. It tasted exactly like how he wanted. 
Wait for the praise, wait for the praise, Angel thought in her mind, eagerly looking at him for a positive reaction with big, innocent eyes. 
“It’s exactly how I like it, Angel,” Tom finally says, looking up at her. He noticed her small hands fidgeting with the hem of her school skirt. “Good job,” he finally praised, his voice low and soothing. 
Angel’s cheeks immediately flushed pink. Everytime he gave her praise, her arousal hit her like a brick. She couldn’t contain herself. She could already feel herself soaking her panties. “N-No problem, sir…” Angel says, her lips slowly curling into a nervous grin. She squeezed her thighs together a little, trying to contain herself. 
“You may go now,” he says. 
“Y-Yes,” she nods, bowing a little as a sign of respect. She then left.
Tom did not know the effect he had on this girl. If only he could ease that ache.
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skiiyoomin · 2 months
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imma do haikyuu for this cause im low-key high-key nostalgic of my 2020 haikyuu phase 🥹
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Content: gn! reader, swearing
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
ღYOU TRIP ON STAGE DURING YOUR GRADUATION
This was it. This was the moment you had been waiting for for as long as you could even begin to remember. All those gruesome hours counting down the seconds until you could dash off to your home were finally over. No more brain exploding math classes or dull history classes that made you want to pass out because of the teachers monotonous tone.
"(Y/N) (L/N)"
Your name was announced and with a proud giddy smile, you walked up the steps and onto the stage. Everything was going spectacularly well. You grabbed your diploma and shook the Principals hand. You began to walk down the steps and when you looked forward, you made eye contact with your friend. Wrong move because the second your eyes shifted from the floor to your friend, you tripped.
-------
Bursts out laughing. Like he´s deadass the type of person who laughs first then worries about you. Has literally no mercy on you. Can and *will* use this to his advantage, will not let you live this moment down for as long as he´s alive. Probably chuckles every once in a while when he thinks back on it and TRUST he thinks about it a lot.
TSUKISHIMA, Kuroo, MATSUKAWA, Hanamaki, SUNA, Atsumu, Shirabu, Tendo, Sugawara
Lets out a chuckle or two at first when everyone laughs but when you sit back down beside him, he asks if you´re okay, geniuenly concerned that you didn´t hurt yourself. When you confirm it was nothing but merely embarrassing, he grins in amusement. Might tease you a little bit BUT, he´s merciful unlike some people, and he quickly stops to save you the embarrassement.
Oikawa, IWAIZUMI, Kageyama, Nishinoya, Tanaka, Hinata, Kenma, Akaashi, Osamu, Semi
Worries THEN laughs. He´s gotta make sure you´re okay and you didn´t hurt yourself. Once you give him the okay he´ll chuckle, replaying the moment in his head and finding it quite funny actually. He quickly lets it go though, which saves you the embarrasement!
Daichi, Ushijima, Goshiki, Kita, Sakusa, Bokuto, Yamaguchi, Yachi, Kiyoko
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icypenguin · 1 month
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Ok so can I request the sbg x wony reader but instead of SHES THE ONE AND ONLY SEO CHANGBIN FROM SKZ (she can beat ass.. and can pick ben with one arm :3
⋆ ˚。 Pretty Phantom Breaker ⋆౨ৎ˚
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cw: limping, running away from phantoms, thoughts of broken bones (that’s all i guess??)
a/n: HIHIHI AND OFCCC! but.. i dunno if this is how u expected T-T i hope i got your idea right and personalities right too.. i’m not really in that side of socials BUT DW DW GOTCHUUU anyway this is a platonic relationship with the sbg gang!!! hope you like itttt!
divider credits: @iluvrei @dollywons
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to everyone’s eyes, you were known to be a clean, healthy, pretty and feminine girl. everyone always appreciate you for that. In school or literally anywhere, you’re always the one who soreads positive energy, and that’s what the gang loves you about.
you’re always focusing on a healthy life style (even if every night you’re teleported into some other realm) which makes it beneficial for the gang. They sometimes wonder, how can you be so positive even if it sounds like it’s the end for them?
“hey y/n, can you recommend me any blush? I’ve been seeing people use this like.. lisptick blush thing? i dunno what that is.. but it sounds cool!” you and taylor was sitting besides eachother on a bench, waiting for the others to finish class since you finished your work sooner. “ah! rare beauty? yes that’s a popular one nowadays! i do recommend you buying one of it since it comes in many different shade! it’s really useful, you can use it as a gloss and a blush!” picking up your phone to show the pictures of the different shade, the others were finally back.
“ughh i hate maths.. so booringgg…” complained aiden as he rolled his eyes. “well.. i suggest you to pay more attention in class rather than making paper airplanes” ashlyn stays in a monotone tone while logan, ben, and tyler ignored them.
taylor whispered a “thanks!” before moving on to the next topic, “well, took you guys long enough to finish that 5 kindergarten riddle” she joked while grabbing her bag in action to go home. “if it weren’t for that moron, we would NOT be take this long… burden pfft-“ tyler frowned, not making eye contact with anyone except him. “well- friends stay together right? they wait for eachother!” the others groaned as aiden pulled out this ‘friendship line’.
soon, you all started to walk to the main entrance while chit chatting random stuffs. you noticed aiden got closer, meaning he wanted to ask you something. “y/n, is it true that broccoli are better than sausages?” he stared with a curious look on his face. “well ofcourse, it’s better to eat broccoli everyday than to eat sausages everyday..” you smiled and gave him a thumbsup. “awwh man, i love wieners…” hearing that response, you laughed along with taylor whose heard your conversation.
! time skip phantom realm !
somehow, the phantoms were chasing the whole gang… thanks to aiden’s loud shout i guess.. “ugh did you really have to scream that loud to safe your darling ashlyn!?” tyler seemed irritated by how aiden was acting. “it’s called friendship okay!? just like how you protect taylor-“ he fired back the comment back to tyler and it kept going on and on. their bickering kept on continuing until- “wait- ben!? where’s ben!?” taylor was looking around, checking everyone but seeing no sign of ben near them. suddenly, everyone’s attention has been spotlighted to ben, who was in the back, trying to catch up.
when you studied closer to see ben’s anatomy, you noticed he was limping. soon, everyone noticed this wound of ben and aiden, who does not think first, decided to run back to ben “ah-! ben- wait for me-!”
ofcourse he tried to help ben but only ended up with them walking slower. as the phantoms were getting closer and everyone’s heart was beating as fast as ever, hoping they would be safe, you did what you had to did. rushing towards both men who’s being chased by a bunch of phantoms, you lifted them one in each of your arm. you didn’t really like to show this side of you, but what choices are there?
ofcourse, they were shocked to see how the feminine you- is able to carry 2 guys in a blink of an eye. “whatthe-“ tyler exclaimed in a shocked and unbelievable tone, while the others just stare at you speechless.
meanwhile ben and aiden was taken aback by the sudden lift, aiden adapted quickly and cheered you on “go go go! go y/n!” ben was just giving up his whole body on you and trusted you on his life.
as you rushed forward to the gang, the phantoms were catching speed of you too. but luckily, you catched up to them and you all managed to get into the base or the bus graveyard.
“phew that was rough…” panting while dropping those two men softly on the ground, the others stared at you with wide eyes, suprised by your skill. “what. was. that.” tyler shot back from his thoughts and stared at you. “that was so cool, y/n.. i didn’t know you can do that..!” logan admired you while having a happy and amused face. “aww thanks guys… i thought you’ll be weirded by it..” you rubbed the back of your neck while looking down, not used to have compliments by this skill of yours. “no way! you saved their life!” taylor gives you a pat on the back as a supportive sign. too, ashlyn got into the conversation “it’s honestly a relief for all of us…” she handed you a bottle of water for you to finally calm yourself down.
meanwhile the others were all fine, aiden and ben both thanked you before healing ben’s leg that logan thought can be of broken bone. tyler, at the corner, was scoffing. he had a high hope of becoming the strongest one in the group and he even thought he was! but i guess.. more suprises for him?
“aww tylerrr, don’t be so busteddd~” taylor laughed at her brother being to irritated and jelous. “w-what!? i’m not!” he barked back at taylor while having a clear jealous look on his face. “pfft yeah? than it’s no matter if i call you weak?” tyler then started chasing taylor as he wanted revenge.
you felt something tap your shoulder, ashlyn was looking at the corner to a phantom that.. successfully entered the base outta nowhere. “do you think you can break it?” she asked you with full trust.
maybe.. maybe you can be a phantom breaker champion?
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♫⋆。♪ ₊˚♬ ゚. thankyou for supporting! ୨♡୧
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nonexistent-introvert · 11 months
Text
Seat Partners
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Content: Highschool au, miguel is a nerd who plays soccer, fluff?
A/N: Inspired by a fanart of Miguel's yearbook photo by @/blueastriz on twitter . I had so much fun with this
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  You sighed inwardly as you searched for your name on the seating plan that was being displayed on the projector. When you finally did find your name, you inhaled, preparing yourself for your partner for the year. 
   Miguel O’Hara. You furrowed your eyebrows at that name. He wasn’t the worst person you could be assigned to sit next to for the rest of the year but he wasn’t the best either. This year would mark your fourth year of being in the same class with him. Despite that, you have never spoken a word to him before. Well, you had the whole year to cozy up to him anyways. 
    Miguel only briefly glanced up at his work out of curiosity to know who he was sitting next to. Not that it matters anyways, Miguel had the reputation of being silent. The kind of person who never spoke unless it was necessary, or about the work at hand. You let out a sigh as you put down your bag, you would actually lose your mind if you had to actually pay attention to the lessons now because Miguel didn’t seem like the type to entertain your comical remarks. 
   You sat down beside him, wrecking your head for a conversation topic. Miguel paid zero mind to you, his focus on the notebook before him where he was solving some math problems. You pursed your lips to prevent the groan from escaping you, you absolutely detested math. You watched enviously as the rest of the class talked among themselves, eager to get to know their partner. 
   “Quiet down.” Mr. Jones ordered, the whole room slowly fell into silence. Mr Jones cleared his throat, “There will be no change of seats unless there was a valid reason. This seating plan has been carefully thought out, being partners means helping each other out. Most of you will be sitting with someone whose strongest subjects are your weakest subjects and vice versa.” You glanced at Miguel from beside you, he was paying Mr. Jones no mind. His pen scribbling against his notebook as he solved yet another question. It was almost insulting sitting next to him. Miguel O’Hara, the straight A’s student and top of the class, next to you who was barely passing most of your subjects, your highest grade being a B. 
   “You’re staring.” You almost jumped at the sound of Miguel’s voice. You spun the pen in your hand, you never thought that Miguel would be the first person to talk between the two of you. “I hate math.” You told him, staring down at the equations in his notebook, free of errors. His lips quirked upwards but his eyes were fixated on his notebook. “It really isn’t that bad.” You scoffed at him, “I have literally never passed a single math exam.” You deadpanned. Miguel remained silent, his pen scribbling at a rapid rate again. You sighed, your first conversation with him ended in 3 sentences. 
====
    “What lesson is next?” You asked, mentally counting down the hours till school ended. “Math.” Your friend, Shannon replied. You cursed under your breath, an hour of not understanding anything. “You could always ask him you know? I mean Mr Jones encouraged everyone to seek help from their partners.” Shannon advised you looked at her like she was crazy. Before you could say anything, Miguel entered your vision. A towel around his neck while he casually leaned down to pick up his bag, stuffing the t-shirt he had worn to lunch to play soccer with his friends. He has already changed back into his white button-up, contrary to the other guys in your class who isn’t even back yet. Miguel picked up his spectacles case from his table and put on his rectangular glasses. It was shocking to witness his duality, how a simple glasses could turn him from the most skilled and charming soccer player in your school into the quiet nerd that most people knew.  When Miguel met your eye contact, you gave him a forced smile. “Um, your collar.” You gestured to his collar. His hands traced his collar before adjusting the part that was still upturned.  “Oh.”Miguel breathed out, “Thanks.” he muttered softly. Too bad the class was too noisy for you to hear him.
   You were trying your best to stifle the third yawn that was escaping you. The numbers on the screen made no sense to you, you had zero idea how the angle at one side was supposedly equal to the angle on the other side of the figure. Miguel was the complete opposite of you, he sat up straight, his eyes scanning the diagram on the board while his ears took in every word your math teacher uttered. His pen scribbling against his notebook as he tried to better visualize the problem. You lazily doodled on the blank page in your notebook, not even daring to start a conversation with Miguel when he looks so focused. Most people would appreciate a distraction from the math but Miguel, he looked entirely invested in the lesson. He looked like he would snap at you or find you annoying if you distracted him from his favorite class. 
 The hands on the clock seemed to be frozen in time. You could have sworn time paused and no one noticed. You have been sitting in this lesson for what felt like an entire day and yet only 30 minutes have passed. Your vision has slowly lost focus and your eyelids were threatening to close anytime. You rubbed at your eyes tiredly, taking sips of water to try to stay awake and yet nothing seemed to work. Your hand held onto your pen and yet you still felt your head slowly dipping down, as though it was getting heavier by the second. Soon enough, you were drifting in and out of consciousness. 
   Miguel couldn’t help but be distracted by your movement from beside him. His pupils moved to the side, he was trying to avoid having to turn his whole head to look at you. He watched from the corner of his eye as your head tilted to his side, head falling dangerously near to his shoulder before you forced yourself awake and tried to sit up straight. Miguel used one of his hands to cover the lower part of his face, trying to hide the amused look on his face as he watched your head oscillate from left to right while you tried your hardest to stop yourself from dozing off. He quickly averted his gaze back onto the projector when you rubbed your eyes, running your hands through your hair before eventually lying your head on the table. Falling asleep soon after. 
   The sound of your name being called out and the knocking against your table startled you awake. Miguel was staring straight ahead, as though he was avoiding your gaze. “Now that you’re awake. Would you like to tell me how you prove that triangle ABD is an isosceles triangle?” You let out a string of curses under your breath. Standing up from your seat to answer your math teacher, Ms Jane’s question. “Give me a moment.” You replied, eyes squinting at the projector. You rubbed the back of your neck, you were definitely not equipped with enough knowledge to know how to solve this question. You glance over at Miguel, giving him a helpless look, hoping that he would get the hint and help you. Miguel met your eye and gave you a blank look. You wanted to scoff at him, helpful my ass. You glanced at the notebook in front of him, knowing that Miguel would probably be at least a few parts already ahead, you could search for the answer in his notebook easily, especially when everything was already so neatly labeled like answers out of an answer key. 
   Miguel noticed your antics soon enough, he closed his notebook. “Bastard.” You cursed at him, you’re pretty sure he heard you from the exasperated exhale he let out. “Um,” You looked back up at Ms. Jane, “The most obvious answer is that triangle BAC already looks like an isosceles triangle.” You answered with a confident grin. A few chuckles echoed in the class, at least you made some people laugh. “Very funny miss, remain standing for the rest of the lesson” Ms Jane snarked. Ms Jane looked over to Miguel who sat beside you. “Mr. O’Hara, would you like to help out your partner?” Miguel stood up, you rolled your eyes at him. What a brilliant way to showcase to the whole class how the both of you were on totally different levels. Miguel looked over at you. 
    “I’m sorry Ms Jane but I don’t have an answer for your question either. I haven’t managed to solve it.” Miguel lied. You looked at him with your jaw agape, knowing perfectly well that he was at least on the third part of the question already. So why did he lie? Ms Jane stared at Miguel, “Oh I see. Then I guess you would have to remain standing along with your partner.” 
    Miguel O’Hara was like a dice roll. You had zero idea what was going on in that mind of his while he stood beside you. His eyes fixated on his notebook, almost finishing with the last part of the question already. And yet, he lied. “Did you want to stand, get punished or-” You asked, jaw still slightly agape at his actions. Miguel looked over at you, giving you a half-hearted hum in response. You looked at him for a few more seconds before realizing that he wasn’t going to give you a direct answer, you doubted he truly processed your words. 
   When the bell finally rang, you sat back down with a sigh. Relieved to finally be able to rest your legs. Miguel did too, swiftly packing up his things from his table. “Why did you lie?” You asked again. Miguel stuffed his books into his bag, ignoring your question “I mean you could have just given me the answer that you already solved for, so why did you-”
    “You wouldn’t have gained anything from me giving you the answer. You still wouldn’t have understood how to get the answer, definitely not how to solve for it in future examinations.” He answered like it was common sense. “Ok, goody two shoes. Then why did you lie?” “You would be doing wonders if you had as many questions about classes,” he remarked. You pursed your lips at his mocking remark. “Answer me.” You demanded. Miguel looked at you, pushing his hair back. “I didn’t want you to feel embarrassed for not knowing the answer. As much as you try to pretend that you don’t care, I know that you’re not immune to the opinion of others. People would laugh if you didn’t understand but they wouldn’t laugh if I didn’t get it too. Because, well, not to brag but I am at the top of the class.” Miguel stated bluntly. You scoffed, trying to hide the fact that he had hit the bullseye with his analysis. It was no wonder why some people found him egoistic and rude. He definitely had to sacrifice some of his EQ for the exceptionally high IQ he possessed. Miguel swung his backpack over his shoulder, “And you learned something today didn’t you? You’re a step closer to passing a math examination now.” he smiled at you. You felt your heart skip a beat at his smile, it wasn’t a big one, it was a really small one.  “So you got punished in an attempt to make me listen to class?” You laughed, it was such a foolish antic. Miguel didn’t confirm nor deny the fact, he simply chuckled. 
   “See you tomorrow partner.” Miguel waved before striding out of the class.   
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writing-mlm · 5 months
Note
Idk if you take requests right now, but if you do, can you please write more damian wayne x reader 🙏
Sincerely, someone who has been scavenging for damian fics for days 😔
New Years, Same Words [D.W]
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Summary: He's tired of hiding, but damn Damian cannot be subtle for the life of him. Pairing: Damian Wayne x male!reader WC: 8.8k
a/n: recs are always open :3
Back home, school was so different, almost every single detail was different. The way humans digested information was so slow and inefficient; back home students wore helmets and immediately got the knowledge they’d need. No need for lectures or turn and talks. They’re learning ideas and math that, quite frankly, a child back home would’ve already learned. 
But, you enjoyed this style. No matter how stupid it was. Back home, you never really had a chance to bond with peers or enjoy any activities like art or music. It was telepathic lessons and then home, usually, that’s when the kids would play together. But the school-sanctioned together time was nice. 
Everything else sucked. 
The hallways were cramped and you had to watch extra carefully to not bump into people and break their shoulders. No matter how badly you wanted to. 
“(Y/n)!” You hear from across the hall and look over, seeing your adoptive brother running down the hallway with his bag almost slipping from his shoulder. “I’m here!” He says, beaming as he stands next to you. 
    “You’re a mess,” You chide while fixing his bag and almost pick him up in the process. “Apologies.” 
“You ready for class?” He almost groans as he says it. “I swear, if she gives us another pop quiz, I’m going to laser her!” He whispers the last part and you chuckle. 
   “No quiz,” You reassure him, turning down the hallway. ELA was at the end of the hallway, right next to the smelly staircase where kids go to smoke or leave the building due to a faulty alarm system. “I heard we have a project.” 
“From who?” He says, voice raising several octaves. Jon has this thing, he doesn’t believe news from certain people, even if they’re later proven to be right. 
   “Marissa,” He stops walking and you can basically hear his thoughts. He’s so debating skipping class. “She said it’s not bad, c’mon!” Grabbing the back of his collar, you pull him after you as you hear the start of the warning bell. Quickly, you pull your headphones from around your neck to your ears and the bell rings. 
It’s at a human volume with the headphones on, so it’s still loud but not nearly as loud as it would’ve been otherwise. 
School back home also didn’t have bells. 
Sliding into your seat, you drop your bag in between your legs while glancing around. Mostly everyone is in class, save for a couple of people. The teacher is late, but you can hear her running up the staircase— not the smelly one, one that’s going to take her at least two minutes to get to class. She never uses a different staircase. 
Mrs. Elton is particular about that sort of stuff, her classroom never changes. She’s gone as far as to superglue the desks in a permanent shape around the class. There are three groups of desks, two in the front and one in the back. The one in the back is a straight horizontal line of seven desks while the front ones are arranged in an upside-down T shape. The vertical side of the T has eight tables, with four tables turned to face each other, while the horizontal side has four desks. 
Your seat is in the front, on the horizontal line. While seats aren’t technically assigned, they totally are assigned amongst everyone else. Jon has the seat in front of you, and he can never see the board properly since he has to turn his whole body around to see it. 
Mrs. Elton finishes her run up the stairs as the final bell goes off and the remaining students trickle into class. Amongst them is your other seatmate, the girl who sits to your right. She looks a little upset but she visibly calms down when she sees you. 
“I thought you were absent,” She tells you as she walks around your chair to get to hers. “You weren’t in second period, what the fuck, dude?” She playfully hits you with her bag before it settles on her lap.
   “I was late,” You shrug, watching her pull out her pink Macbook case with several stickers on it. “Why, what happened second?” She gives you a look before she slips her bag down to the floor and you raise an eyebrow, looking at Jon who shrugs. 
   “They were making plans to make a bomb for the winter dance.” She says. “Those two kids who always sit in the back, like that’s normal right?” You nod, the two kids in the back always talk about school shootings and whatnot but they’re typically harmless. “They talked about how their orders for materials came in and exactly where they’re gonna plant it.” 
“Text me,” She nods and Mrs. Elton walks into the room, effectively silencing the class. She’s dressed like an English teacher, which you hadn’t known was a stereotype for the longest. You thought there were dress codes for each subject teachers. 
Go figure. 
“Good morning!” She smiles, her kitten heels clicking on the brown tiled floor as she heads over to her desk. Her laptop is already connected to the smart board so she only has to log back in. “How was everyone’s weekend?” There are some murmurs amongst the kids but she takes what she can get. 
“As I’m sure you’re all aware, we have a project!” With her presentation on the screen, she turns to face everyone and clasps her hands together. “This will not be a group project, but there are many options to choose from.” She turns around again, fiddling with the keyboard. “Skipping the do now, let’s get right into it.” She pulls up a slide that’s blank for now. She does this thing where she presses a button and words pop up. “The Best Friend project!” She announces as it pops up on the board. 
“This is different from your other projects since this is a project that’s a week long. You only get this week to do it and everyone will be presenting next week. We’ll do it by volunteer order, if no one volunteers then I will call you to go!” She explains and you glance over at Jon. His back is to you, but you can see him rubbing his forehead. 
“As seniors, you need to understand how to present. But this is an easier one to do since I’m giving you so many options!” A list of options pops up as she says that. “Firstly, you can make a photo slideshow and explain your friendship; you can make a video collage with a voiceover, you can write a newspaper article and read it to the class, or you can bring the person in. But only if they do not have my class. So say Blake wanted to do his project on say… Michael, he could not bring him in. But if Blake wanted to do his project on his neighbor, he could bring them in. Understand?” Everyone nods and she moves on. 
“Pick the way you want to do your project today,” She says, looking over the class. “After today, we will not be working on this during class, we will continue to read Salvage the Bones.” 
“Go ahead! Start!” She smiles and turns on the class playlist as everyone turns to their laptops. 
“Who’re you doing yours on?” Amira asks, already on a blank slideshow document. 
   “Not you,” You laugh and she fake scoffs. “You don’t know him, though.” She hums in acknowledgment. 
   “Do I?” Jon asks and you look at him, head tilted and lips pulled into your mouth. “Ohhh!” He nods. “I’m doing mine on Jay!” 
“Fun,” You offer a smile and look over the options. 
Writing in English is not your strong suit, it’s why you weren’t allowed into AP classes. You were amazing with working on stuff but you were still learning English, despite living on Earth for four years now. Kara says that’s normal and it took her ages to get to your level of speaking and understanding English, but you feel stupid struggling with the words. 
You pull out your phone and open your messages. 
would u come to my school next week
4 a project 
What type of project? 
‘best friend project’ 
Is this like Show and Tell? 
idk what that is…
I’ll explain later. 
But I’ll agree, explain it to me tonight, okay?
kk :3
Closing your phone, you set it face down on the desk and look over the “bring a person in” section. It says you can either give a completely verbal presentation but you’ll need to create a transcript for it, for proper grading, or you can create a presentation in which the two of you explain what’s happening. You opt for the second one. 
There are some requirements, though. Each presentation needs to be at least ten minutes long; which you think is absurd, there cannot be any cursing included, and visual aids are required for all but the verbal presentation. Videos cannot be longer than two minutes, and only a maximum of two videos— each of them gives an extra five points to your grade. 
“Imagine someone does Damian Wayne.” The local Gothamite, Rebecca laughs and you share a look with Jon.
   “I totally am!” Her friend, Mariam jokes. “We’ve been dating for ages, darling!” Her group shares a laugh and your mind is settled on doing yours on him. 
Meeting Damian during his patrols had become somewhat of the norm since you started dating. For many reasons, but mainly since Batman doesn’t have super hearing, despite what the general public and some heroes may think. While you’re not entirely out of earshot of Kal-El, being in Gotham meant that he would have to focus a bit more on listening to you instead of doing whatever he was doing back home. Sure, sometimes Damian came to Metropolis, but that was rare. Only one of you could get to and from in three seconds, after all. 
“So,” You start as you slowly lower yourself down to the roof he's standing on, it’s on the outer side of Gotham, away from any of the normal patrol spots. “You’re dating someone else?” Robin frowns and crosses his arms. 
   “Ya albi, never.” He says in the most reassuring tone you’ve ever heard him speak in while slowly pulling you close. “Where’d you hear this?” It’s hard continuing the charade and you give up, a grin spreading across your face. It lets him immediately know and his frown goes into an unamused glare. 
    “These girls were joking about dating you during class,” You explain as he pushes you away and rolls his eyes. You smile and pull him back towards you, he crosses his arms and makes a point to keep a distance between the two of you.  
“Moving on,” He fixes your cape before wrapping his hands around your shoulders and pulling you down to his height. Leaning in, you watch his eyes close before he kisses you and you let your eyes close. Pulling him closer, you dig your fingers into his hips and smile when he smiles. 
“I was thinking,” He says when the two of you pull away. “We should go to the New Year’s gala together,” You pause, standing up straight and looking over the Gotham skyline before back at him. 
   “As us?” You ask and he nods, his eyes searching your face for any signs of… anything really. 
    “We could go as us for the one father is hosting and then as Robin and Rao for the Justice League party.” He suggests and he means it. He’s just as tired of kissing in corners as you are and you smile, big and bright before calming yourself. 
    “Are you sure? This is an incredibly big step, there’s no taking it back.” 
You’ve thought about this moment before. Even before you started dating, you’d daydream about the world finding out Robin and Rao were dating. About the world finding out that Damian Wayne is dating the adopted son of Lois Lane and Clark Kent, the world's best reporters. 
It wasn’t always the best in your head, you thought of the villains and the press. The jealous fans and suddenly you’re no longer just that kid in school. 
And you didn’t care. You’d thought of every single bad scenario, every scenario that almost made Clark and Lois break up; but it didn’t matter. You… you were in love with Damian, in every way. All of him, whatever he came with you were down for. You’d kill for him— you have killed for him. Not that he ever has to find that out. 
“Rao,” He says in a stern voice, pulling you back to him. “I… I want you forever. Why would I take any of this— of us back?” He asks as if you’ve offended him, his eyes darting between yours as he speaks. He’s talking as if you had thought so little of him as to think he wasn’t in the relationship a thousand percent. That you weren’t the best thing in his life and he’d do everything to not lose you. 
“I dunno,” You shrug, letting go of him but he grabs your hands to stop you from moving. “What if you want someone else one day? Someone who can’t hear the fact that your heart is racing and your blood is rushing? Or the fact that Batman is trying to reach you right now.” From several streets over, you can hear Bruce speaking into his comm trying to reach Damian. He’s asking Barbara why he isn’t responding, worried for his son. 
“I will never want someone else.” He promises, squeezing your hand and clicks his earpiece to turn it back on. 
“Yes, father?” He takes a step away but doesn’t let go of your hand. 
“Robin, where have you been? We’ve been trying to reach you for ten minutes” You hear Bruce tell him, worry lacing his voice. 
    “Sorry, father. I accidentally turned it off.” Damian gives you a look that screams not to laugh. 
    “There’s a robbery close to you, it’s just Catwoman,” Bruce explains and Damian sighs, saying he’s going on it. Better than to have his father go and have sex on the roof again. 
He still couldn't get the picture out of his head when the gossip pages found them one day. He almost moved out after that. 
“Call me,” You smile as you begin to hover above the roof. “I still gotta explain the project to you.”
“Yknow, this could go by faster if you helped.” He offers and you laugh. 
   “Is Robin asking me for help?” He scoffs and lets go of your hand before walking to the edge of the roof. You watch him, already knowing your answer to his request but you wanted to see how long it would take him to say something. 
“Let’s go!” He calls and you grin, flying over to him and he lets you scoop him up before heading over to the bank. 
A week comes and goes, you’d finished your presentation the same day you had told Damian about it. Clark and Bruce insisted on getting it done as quickly as possible— you’d just take any excuse to spend the night in a fucking manor. 
“Good morning!” Mrs. Elton smiles as the final bell rings. “I’m so glad some of you signed up to give your presentations, uhh—“ She looks at a notepad on her desk, reading over the names. “Today we have (Y/n), Rebecca, Julie, and Jesus!” A little confused, you try and think if there’s another (Y/n) in your class. But you’re the only one in the entire grade. And you sure as hell did not sign up. 
“You signed up?” Amira whispers and you shake your head. 
    “I absolutely did not!” You whisper back, pulling your phone from your bag to text Damian. God, it would probably take him at least half an hour to get from Gotham to Metropolis. But as you open your phone, you realize there wasn’t a mixup with the volunteers. 
I’m in the office, about to head up. 
The text had been sent two minutes ago, and when you look up you can see him at the door. He sees you see him and ducks out of view before anyone else can. You should’ve listened harder, you could’ve spotted his heartbeat sooner. 
“Oh, you’re doing a buddy presentation?” Mrs. Elton says as she looks over your slides. You nod, your heart hammering in your chest. “Are they here?” Again, you nod and she smiles. “Excellent! Bring them in!” Standing up, you head to the door and step outside.
“One second, Ms!” You say before the door closes. Damian is leaning against the wall opposite to the room. He’s dressed a little fancier than he normally is, a turtleneck and slacks. But he’s wearing a pair of thick, black boots. Are those yours..?
“You asshole!” You whisper, ignoring the boot situation and he looks at you, faking a confused look. “I’m shitting myself, dude! Oh my god!” You rush over to him, running your hands over your face as you talk. 
   “Habibi,” He places a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll do fine, it’s nothing compared to fighting Lex, right?” Sighing, you nod and calm yourself. You’d given speeches to entire countries before, this is a walk in the park comparatively. “Good, now let’s go.” He turns you around to face the door and for some reason, talking to the President was easier than walking into that classroom. 
Nope. Not fine. 
But he guides you back into the classroom and you stand at the open door. 
“Come on in!” Mrs. Elton encouraged you with a smile and a gentle wave to usher you over. Licking your lips, you head inside and Damian steps in after you. Immediately there are murmurs throughout the room and several eyes land on him. Mariam gasps and slaps Rebecca’s arm. She’s been on her phone, mostly uninterested for the most part but when she looks up her eyes go wide. 
“You may start,” Mrs. Elton hands you a remote that lets you control the slides and you thank her, fiddling with the remote as you and Damian stand off to the side of the screen.
“My best friend is Damian,” You start, trying to shake off the feeling of absolute dread over you. Not that it works.  “Um… I met him what— two, three years ago?” Time is hard for you, times blend together and merge, sometimes stretching to points where they couldn’t have possibly happened. But Kara thinks it’s the lingering effects of the Phantom Zone. 
   “Four,” He corrects and looks over at you. “I was there when you arrived.” That’s right, you’d forgotten when you crashed into Earth. Bruce and Damian had gone with Clark when the Watchtower got a reading of a spaceship entering Earth's orbit. You’d crashed into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and almost sunk to the bottom of the sea. 
You nod, looking back to the class. “Four years ago, when I was adopted, I met him. I think he hated me back then, though.” You chuckle, pressing the slide to pictures you have where the then fourteen-year-old Damian was either attacking you or clearly yelling. In all of the pictures, you’re unbothered or confused, still learning the language. “Can’t imagine why, probably because I’m black.” 
“It’s because you kept breaking my stuff,” He corrects quickly. “I went through five phones, six doors, and I think twenty windows that first month.” He lists and you want to defend yourself, imagine suddenly being so strong that a simple nudge could send walls toppling down but you can’t say that. 
   “Don’t remember that,” Shaking your head, you click to the next slide and look at it. You’d forgotten all about that trip. 
“This was when my father took the Kent’s on vacation to The Netherlands,” Damian says, looking at the picture of you looking out of the plane window. You look unamused and you remember saying I can see this all the time, why would I get the window seat? And you ended up switching seats with Jon. Another picture is of you and Damian sitting on the windowsill of the hotel, it’s nighttime and you’re both watching the stars. 
You remembered talking to him about your home and he’d talked to you about his. 
Another picture is Damian, Jon, and you at a creek. You and Jon are knee-deep in the water but Damian is sitting on a tire swing, clearly disgusted about the idea. He’s yelled about bugs, parasites, and fish pee infecting the water. Jon wanted to throw him in, but you talked him down. 
“We spent a week there,” You explain, looking back at the class. “I think that’s when we actually became friends.” He agrees, giving a small nod and you click to the next slide. It’s a video, and from the thumbnail, it’s set around Christmastime.
You’re in the woods, wearing a jacket Lois had gifted you; Damian is holding the phone from what you remember.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Damian’s voice is the first thing you hear as the video starts. It’s different from his voice now and you wonder when the change happened. 
   “I’m good!” You dismiss and pick up your pace when you see the thing you’ve been looking for. It’s a little embarrassing hearing your voice, especially how you sounded back then. But it’s still a fond memory. 
In the middle of the forest was a lake, and it had frozen over. Clark had wanted to give it a couple of weeks to get to a proper thickness and you felt you’d waited long enough. It had been four weeks already, and you heard Alaska got pretty cold. 
“Do not,” Damian warns as you hold onto a tree, lowering yourself onto the ice. “(Y/n)!” He sets the phone down on a fallen tree and goes into view of the camera, following after you. But his point was to get as close to you as possible without getting onto the ice. 
“I’m fine, Damian!” You wave him off, putting a foot onto the ice. “It’s slippery!” You gasp, putting your other foot, and struggle to find your balance for a good second. 
   “It’s ice.” He reminds, still holding his hand out. “Now, c’mon! That’s dangerous, even for you.” Looking at him, you hold your hands on your hips and grin. Your balance is much better now that you’ve gotten your bearings. 
“Nothing bad ever happens to me!” You declare and take a shaky step further into the lake. It’s more difficult than just standing and you’re tempted to just cheat by flying a little bit. 
   “You’re an orphan for a reason,” He sighs and you loudly boo at him. You must’ve booed him for a good five seconds, both your thumbs pointed down and he rolls his eyes. 
   “One bad thing happened to me!” Taking another step, you almost fall and he lunges to grab you but you’re able to remain upright. 
“See,” You look at him and he shakes his head, carefully inspecting the ice. His body language changes when he does and he takes a mini step closer, holding his hand out with a sense of urgency. 
“Off the ice, now.” He demands and you look down. You can hear the cracks forming and there are white lines starting to appear. But you’d assumed the noises had been from the woods. “(Y/n),” Looking up at him, you grab his hand and he pulls you towards him. 
The ice lets out a sharp crack and you remember watching the ice fall into the water as the two of you fell back into the snow, your heart swelling with some feeling. It wasn’t even the fact that you’d almost fallen, you were more than sure you would’ve been a-okay; it was the fact that he had cared that much about your safety. 
“I could’ve flown,” You whisper, looking at the spot you’d been standing at. The video doesn’t pick it up, but you remember what happened. How the two of you had fallen back and he held you tightly until that point. 
“Doesn’t mean you can be so reckless,” He says, standing up before pulling you up. “Let’s head back to the cabin, be glad Lois isn’t here to scold you.” He picks the camera up as he speaks and you roll your eyes. 
   “I’m sure you’re gonna tell her either way.” The video ends and you look towards your classmates again. 
“That’s an example of why I’m the best,” You announce, faking being serious. “But in my defense, it was my second winter ever and I was very excited.” Back home, the weather was just… not cold. At least where you lived. 
   “And stupid,” Damian mutters and you nudge him, hiding your grin. He nudges you back and you’re about to start a stupid nudging war when Mrs. Elton clears her throat. 
“When was this?” Mrs. Elton asks, motioning to the video. 
    “Two years ago,” You answer, looking back to the video that’s stuck on a still of Damian and you walking up, a cheesy grin on your face while he’s less than impressed. “Clark and Lois rented out a cabin in Alaska, I invited Damian. We spent the weekend there and he never did tell Lois about the incident.” But Clark surely did hear, so when you returned there was some discussion about safety and caution. 
“That same day, (Y/n) decided it would be a good idea to try and befriend a wild bear,” Damian says and you scoff, going to the next slide. 
  “Me and Jerry did become friends,” You grumble. 
“This is for my birthday last year,” Damian says as he looks at the picture that’s in an apartment Bruce rented so Damian could have a small party with just his friends. He saw Billy, Cassie, Bart, Wally, Jackson, Nika, Jon, Courtney (who he didn’t really know, she was more your friend since he had no interest in Stargirl), Jaime, and you standing around a table with him in the center. There’s a birthday cake but most of it is hidden by the several bodies in front of it. 
He has a ridiculous paper party hat on and there’s some frosting on his nose. He looks less than amused but you remember he put up no protest to any of the things that happened that night. Although Wally said it’s because it was you doing it and had it been anyone else, they would’ve lost an arm.
And he agreed! 
There’s a green Happy Birthday balloon banner behind him and in a different picture, it’s the two of you standing in front of it. You’re both holding sparklers, which was incredibly dangerous according to basically everyone else. But it’s an apartment filled with teen superheroes, a little sparkler was not going to be the thing that caused damage. 
“It was a group sleepover,” You announce, staring at the picture Jaime had taken of everyone sleeping on the large couch. There are several blankets over people so no one’s really huddled together for warmth until you see you and Damian in the corner of the couch. 
You’re still awake, on your phone but Damian is knocked the fuck out, his head is on your shoulder and if you squint, you can see his legs wrapped in yours under the cover. Your arm is around him, keeping him from rolling onto someone who’s sleeping close by. 
“I didn’t think you’d put that one,” You whisper, admiring the picture. When making the presentation, Damian had suggested that you each get ‘secret slides’ and the others were not allowed to look until the day off. Your slide was the ice video. 
   “Nika considers it a soft launch, whatever that means.” He grins and you smile. 
There’s another picture, but it’s a picture of a picture. Taken on those handheld cameras that were really popular in the early 2000s. It’s of you, Damian, and Nika. The three of you are in the kitchen, sitting on the kitchen island with Damian in the middle. 
You’re eating cake, surprised that someone was going around taking pictures while Nika is blowing a kiss to the camera and Damian is actually smiling for the picture. 
There’s a picture right next to it where you’re actually posed. Your back is to Damian and Nika copies as the two of you fake holding guns, acting as his bodyguards. He’s playfully rolling his eyes, and there’s a wider grin on his face in that picture. It was actually your screen saver. 
Honestly, when you first met Flatline, you were kinda upset. She did kinda kill him and then they became best friends? It was confusing as all hell but whatever, you warmed up to her and she was actually really cool. 
“The cake was super good,” You note as you press the next slide. It’s another video, and it’s still from the birthday party. “I don’t remember this,” You admit, looking at the thumbnail. It’s when he’s being sung Happy Birthday. 
  “I do,” He smirks as the video plays. You could hear his heartbeat pick up a little bit and you’d have to admit you’re a little worried about the video. 
“-irthday to you, happy birthday to you! Make a wish!” Everyone says and Damian takes a second. His thinking face only appears for a second before he closes his eyes and blows out his candles. They go out and everyone cheers as he stands up tall. 
   “Try the cake!” Nika shouts from the back. 
“Come, aynii,” He tells you and you emerge from the small crowd as he wipes frosting onto his finger. You remember this exact moment and you blink, a slow and long blink as you smile. Damian notices and his heart picks up even more. He tries his best to look composed but Jon can see you unraveling in that moment. 
The class watches as he wipes the frosting onto your lips quickly enough that you don’t have time to react before he kisses you. 
And it’s an absolute riot when he does. Cheers and shouts take over the room. The kiss doesn’t last long as in the video, the people in the video are also cheering and you pull away, clearly flustered with so many people watching. He presses a quick final kiss to your lips and then licks his, fake-tasting the frosting while you wipe the frosting from your nose. 
“Tastes lovely,” Damian tells Nika as the video ends. It ends with you turning away from the camera and Damian pulling you closer to the table and him. 
“It was vanilla flavor,” Damian tells the class as they settle down. “That’s the last of the pictures,” The ten-minute requirement isn’t up yet, you have about two minutes left so your teacher suggests answering some people’s questions and you just know they are not going to be about anything other than the video. 
“How long have you been dating?” Mariam asks. 
   “Two and a half years,” Damian answers without hesitation, his hand slipping into yours. You feel his pulse settling down against your skin and run your thumb across the small, barely visible scars littering the back of his hand. 
So much for a soft launch. 
It turns out that the student was not live, but he did in fact post the video online. Very publicly, as it was viral absolutely everywhere. It even reached Worldstar, which you thought died out several years ago. You’d seen it across all your feeds, you’d been tagged a bunch and even sent it directly. News outlets have even contacted you and there've been some vague threats for your life, but nothing you haven’t seen before. It’s just a headache seeing so many new messages you end up making entirely new accounts and setting them to private. 
Clark and Bruce had both sat the two of you down when they saw it— which was immediately after it was posted. Seeing as one of them is a high-profile billionaire and the other is a high-profile reporter married to another high-profile reporter and journalist. There was an extremely long talk about… relationship stuff, and it was a little awkward when Bruce asked about some private information. Damian shut it down, though. Giving vague but concise answers to their questions while you tried to bury yourself on the couch. 
They ended with basically; you’re both 18, so you’re old enough, blah blah blah, wrap it and tap it, blah blah blah, at least there won’t be pregnancy scares, blah blah blah, no more sleepovers. 
That part wasn’t going to be in place for long, though.  
All in all, the worst part to come out of the situation thus far was the sudden attention on your back. 
People in school suddenly knew your name and while no one was acting strange, it was weird that people would suddenly be nicer to you. But at least no one was homophobic, that was something you were not going to complain about. 
“So,” Rebecca and her group of friends swipe the seats around you as you’re finishing up some of your work during gym class. “Damian Wayne?” She grins, sitting next in front of you. 
   “That is my boyfriend.” You hum, slowly closing your laptop. 
    “Good!” She grins. “Because we used to go to school together and I’ve never seen him so happy before! Everyone called— fuck it, probably still calls him Arab Psycho.” She imitates his public resting face, albeit very poorly and you think for a second. It’s that human movie. Tim talks about it. 
   “American Psycho but he’s Arab…” You ask and she nods. 
   “Always felt racist but those rich white fuckers didn’t care.” She explains and you hum. 
“You’re sweet,” She says. “Has he asked you to the winter dance yet?” Rebecca grins, her nails tapping against the glossy floor. “Oh my god! You two would totally be Winter formal royalty!” 
“I’m not going.” She frowns and her friends make awww sounds. It’s kinda hard to explain you’re gonna spend the night as Rao, making sure kids don’t try and blow up your school. Not to mention the fact that you really did want to go, but shit happens and you’ve been to every other school dance. And there’s still prom. “But he did ask.” 
“You’re stronger than me.” Kirara shakes her head. “What’s your Instagram, by the way?” 
The day of the dance rolls around and you’re stuck with Damian on the roof of the building across from the school. Forced to listen to the music and watch people dance with their dates, just waiting and watching. He notices, of course. But he doesn’t know what to say, or what to do. He’s always avoided school dances, they felt trivial, beneath him. But you enjoyed the American school traditions like those. 
He remembers whenever you’d hang out at the manor you’d insist on watching some high school movie, especially if they had dances. Apparently, they weren’t a big deal back home. 
You can’t move from the roof until you’re sure there’s no bomb. Your super-vision didn’t show anything and you scouted the place the two kids talked about but nothing. Jack shit popped up. But the two kids aren’t home, so there’s a chance they might show up and do it later. A mix of Carrie and Heathers, you suppose. 
It’s about midway through the dance that something happens. You recognize their dingy car— think a rusted car that is literally duct-taped together and one wind gust from breaking apart. The two of you slink into the shadows and you watch as they open the trunk, grabbing the bomb.
“At least this wasn’t for nothing,” You mutter and fly down, landing about four paces behind them. Robin lands in front of the car, his arms crossed and head tilted up. 
“Planning something?” You ask and they spin around, the taller one slams the trunk shut while the shorter one stuffs something into his jacket pocket. 
   “Just a dance…” Short laughs, tucking his arms under his chest. 
“And a bomb?” Robin asks and they spin around to see him. And it’s like the absolute life had drained out of them when they realized they had two vigilantes on them. One with a sword and the other with fucking heat vision. 
“We’re sorry!” Tall shouted, getting on his knees, and his hands were in the air within seconds. 
   “Dude…” Short grumbles and removes the poorly made bomb from his shirt and places it on the ground before getting on his knees. “Fucking pussy.” He glares at his friends while Robin calls for the cops to pick the two up. 
You pick up the bomb, looking it over. It’s about the size of a football and fairly heavy. But the intent was clearly there, you doubt it would’ve worked. They didn’t connect the wires properly. Seems they must’ve missed a step in their plans. 
The cops arrive soon after along with the bomb squad. They say the bomb is safe and the two kids get locked up. Before, they used to hound for you to go back to the station to make a statement but they know you’ll show up soon and leave with a quick thank you. 
“Cops in Gotham never thank us,” Robin huffs, watching them drive off. 
   “We’re nice here,” You shrug, looking at the school. “Wanna go to the Titans?” He looks at you and your barely hidden frown and then at the school. He’s sure his dignity isn’t as fragile as it seems because the decision isn’t a hard one to make. 
“We could go inside.” The frown turns into a smile and you rush inside, your cape bellowing with how fast you move. He rolls your eyes but follows you towards the music. 
Of course, the two of you cause a stir in the gym as everyone sees Rao and Robin at their shitty high school dance, slow dancing to the cheesy song playing but that’s perfectly fine. Everyone sorta returns to their own devices when they remember you’re two teenagers who probably just want to experience a dance. 
“Thank you.” You whisper to him as the night wraps up. Mariam and some dude who wasn’t her date were voted as the Winter Formal Royalty, despite them trying to give the crowns to the two of you. “This was fun. Very human.” You laugh at the last part, watching as kids get into their parent's car and head on home. You see Jon is waiting for Clark with Jay, he has a strict rule of not interacting with you when one of you is out of uniform. Something about being a horrible liar.
   “It was my pleasure seeing you smile.” He says, settling on the railing of the steps. “I’m just sorry you couldn’t enjoy it normally.” He adds, his eyes flickering to the large S symbol on your chest and then to your masked face. 
“Please,” You huff, sitting next to him. “We stopped a bomb. It was a… bad bomb, but still.” 
“You’re still here!” Mariam gasps when she sees the two of you. She has her heels in one hand and her phone in the other so her date holds the door open for her. “Good! Here—here, take it!” She hands you her crown and the other crown. Apparently the king didn’t care for it and gave it to her. “Don’t say no, either.” She shakes the crowns for you to take and you laugh, grabbing the king's crown while Damian takes the queen. 
“Okay, thank you.” The plastic crowns are but paper to you, so you take extra care not to break it. 
   “Put it on!” She urges, taking some steps back, and points her camera to the two of you. Robin looks at you and takes your crown from you, setting the crown on your head before putting his own. “Y’all are too cute!” She gushes and takes about ten pictures. You’re posing, of course, about three different poses and she’s hyping the two of you up beyond belief. 
“I’ll send these to you, bye-bye!” She shouts, running down the stairs while her boyfriend gets in the car. 
   “Bye-bye!” You call back.
“Clarks here,” Robin nudges your hand and you see Jon get into the car. 
“Break has officially started!” Someone shouts from the parking lot. “See yall mother fuckers next year!” You laugh, and float up, pulling Robin up with you. He latches on immediately, looking at you as you shoot into the air and over to Gotham. He’s a little more careful to make sure your crowns stay on than you are and he promises to keep it safe in Gotham. That honestly sounded like an oxymoron. 
“What’re you doing for Christmas?” He asks as you take your masks off in the Batcave. 
   “Mrs. Kent invited us to the farm,” Throwing yourself into the chair, Damian sits on the table while taking his gloves off. “We’ll probably be there for the entire weekend. Unless there’s some emergency. You?”
“We typically do a small gift exchange and not much else.” He shrugs. 
   “Y'know…” You trail, pushing the chair closer to him. “Martha has been wanting to meet you.” 
“She’s met me.” He says, fixing your hair into something that doesn’t make it obvious you had just been flying around. 
   “Yeah, but not as her grandson’s boyfriend.” He cups your face as you speak, staring at you with this soft gaze that makes you like putty in his hands. 
“He’ll go,” Bruce says as he enters the cave. Damian grumbles and drops his hands to his side while you spin around to see him. He’s not in his Batman gear, though. Just his nightwear. “Clark invited all of us yesterday.”
“Fun!” You turn to Damian who’s not too happy about the fact he still has the spend the holiday with his siblings. 
   “My siblings are going to cause your grandmother to have a heart attack. I’d advise you to fool-proof the house.” He warns you, getting off of the computer and pulling you up from the chair. 
“It’s Kryptonian proof. They can’t do much damage,” You call him a name he’s heard a bunch. It’s this word in Kryptonian but you won’t tell him what it means and he doesn’t know the language enough to piece it together. But he likes it. It just feels right. 
   “That’s what you think.” 
But despite his warnings and swearing up and down about his family ruining the day, Christmas went smoothly. Save for the embarrassment of introducing your boyfriend to your family and such, of course. The gifts were wonderful, but what you loved the most was Damian’s recreation of your home, you hadn’t thought he’d remembered so much detail from when you talked about it but he was spot on. You’d gotten him a special sword, made of alien metal and carefully carved with his initials. He said it was too good to use, that something of that marksmanship should never see bloodshed. But his eyes sparkled when you pulled out a set of new charcoal and paints for him. 
He spent the rest of the night drawing. 
With Christmas wrapped up, the time for the New Year’s party rolled around. Of course, Bruce had formally invited the Kents to the gala that was being hosted at some fancy building in Gotham. You’d been all but attacked by Dick to get a matching suit with Damian. Not that you minded, of course. 
“Your first public appearance as a couple, congrats.” Duke grins as he sees you standing next to Damian, the two of you fixing the final details of your suits. You peer up from your cufflinks and see he’s in a fancy yellow suit. He paired it with a soft blush pink undershirt and silver jewelry. 
   “Thanks,” You smile and check your sleeves. Still nicely pressed and the cuffs shine against the silky brown suit. 
   “Nervous?” He asks, stepping into the room as Damian hands you the dahlia brooch the two of you were going to wear. Damian knew more about flower symbolism than you, but you just knew the flower meant something about the two of you that he wholeheartedly agreed with. 
“Far from it,” Damian responds, pinning his own brooch to his suit. He makes it look so damn easy, but that’s probably because he doesn’t need to worry about breaking the brooch. “Yellow clearly suits you.” He tells Duke who in turn, compliments Damian’s suit. 
“Oh, you two did henna?” Duke asks, seeing your deep orange-stained hands. He’s too far away to see the exact details, but he knows henna when he sees it. 
   “His idea,” You grin, looking at the designs on your hands. “We still have to find our initials, though.” Your eyes flicker to where Amira’s mother had hidden the letter D on your hand.
“In private.” Damian adds, his hand finding reprise in your own. He doesn’t need to look at Duke for him to understand that Damian is telling him to leave and close the door. The clicks closed as he guides you to his bed. The two of you sit together and he looks first. 
“These designs are lovely,” He utters, his fingers ghosting over your skin as if you were a delicate artifact he was trying so desperately to keep safe. There were a lot of small details, hardly any of your skin was showing and it just looked like a lace you’d wrapped around your hand. His eyes flicker from left to right, as if he’s reading words in a book trying to find the letter D somewhere in the henna. 
He’s far from frustrated, though. He absolutely loves that you’d agreed to do this and even more so that you clearly didn’t half-ass in getting it done. You’d even let the henna sit for two hours extra, just in case your genes made the stain fade faster. 
“Here,” He points to one of the curves along a flower, his finger tracing over the hidden D. 
   “That was fast,” You look up at him and he just can’t look away from your hand. You call him, using another Kryptonian pet name and he looks at you. 
   “I’m perceptive.” He hands you his hands and you gently take them. 
You suppose you’re cheating, but your eyes are naturally gifted and you can zoom in. Even so, it does take you longer than him. You’re looking between his hands, almost stressing about finding out. 
“There,” You point to your initial resting on his ring finger, right above the second knuckle. He smiles and nods and you pat yourself on the back. And then he says something— something that’s surely a promise. He says it in a way that’s clear he’s thought about it for so long that nothing is to change his mind about it and you stare at him with wide eyes and an even wider smile. 
“It’ll be harder to find when we get married.”
The gala is nice. The two of you arrived after your families just two hours before midnight, hand in hand. Perhaps it was on purpose, but you’re holding the hand that has your initial and he’s holding the hand that has his. Maybe that’s his way of keeping it between the two of you; intimate. 
There are a lot of people, as is expected with galas. A lot of rich old people, a bunch of shitty reporters trying to kiss ass to Clark and Lois, and their older children. No one under sixteen is ever allowed to gala’s, a rule that came into place when Jason was taken under Bruce’s wing. You were surprised to hear the rule wasn’t because of Dick, but apparently Dick didn’t attend enough gala’s for the rule to be needed. 
It’s your first gala seeing you’ve always declined the offers to go but there wasn’t room to say no in this situation. But it’s calm. You were more nervous about your presentation than about this. You and Damian mingle together for around an hour and a half before you see Kara at the snack table and excuse yourself.
You’re talking to Kara about school and she’s talking to you about her job. It just sounds like a bunch of human adult stuff you’re probably going to have to do in five years and honestly? That sounds like hell. But she makes it sound fun. 
“Mother.” Damian says from across the room. Your head snaps over to where he is and you see her. Holy shit. You should run. “What’re you doing here?” His head turns to find you in the crowd but you see that Thalia is already looking directly at you. At least she’s smiling, that’s good… right?
“His mothers here?” Kara whispers, having heard that too. She’s been big on meeting the woman who raised him, apparently hearing how Bruce and Damian talk about her isn’t enough for her never-ending curiosity. 
   “I’m gonna piss my pants!” You gasp, looking at her. “Oh my god, she’s gonna kill me. i— Kara!” Your eyes widen as she tugs you after her. She barely weaves past people and you have to awkwardly apologize to them and let this crazy woman drag you over to your boyfriend and his assassin mother. 
“Hello, Ms. Al Ghul.” You gulp as Kara makes you stand between her and Damian. 
   “Ah, so this is your partner.” Thalia looks at her son and then at you. He’s not upset, but he’s cautious. He’s purposefully slowing his heart rate and you hear the subtle sounds of his joints moving. He’s ready to take you and run. 
   “Yes, this is my significant other, (Y/n).” He introduces you with a hand on your back. “And his aunt, Kara.”
“I’ve heard a lot about the boy who my son has fallen in love with.” She bluntly says and you don’t know if you should smile or hide. Neither of you has actually said the L word before. 
   “Mother…” He whispers and she tsks. 
   “What does he call you?” She asks you, ignoring her son's plea to stop taking. 
“Uh…” You trail. “He says: ya albi; habibi, hobbi, and ya hayati. There’s some more but I can’t remember…” When you say them, she takes a deep breath in and turns to her son. He’s a little red but not from anger. 
   “And do you know what they mean?” She asks, her eyes flicker to you. 
   “No, ma’am.” You answer honestly and she grins. That’s where he gets it, oh my god. 
“He’s professing his love for you. My love, my darling, love of my heart, and my life.” She explains. 
“You call him the same things!” Kara points out, slapping your arm and Damian looks over, the embarrassment off of his face and now he’s confused.
   “Kara…!” Your eyes widen as it’s your turn to be embarrassed. 
    “He calls you…” She waits for Damian to tell her the pet names and now you’re embarrassed that he’s repeating them. She doesn’t hide her excitement or her expressions like Thalia had and openly gushes. “The first one is: my only love. Then he says: my life and my reason.” 
“Your reason?” He asks and you turn your face from him. If you weren’t surrounded by people, you would’ve flown away. 
“Where we’re from, to have someone as your reason is the highest form of love. You’re living for someone, you’re devoting your life to them and their happiness.” You carefully explain and Kara nods, a hand over her heart as she gushes again. 
“Let’s leave the boys to their devices and chat,” Thalia smiles at Kara who nods and loops her arms with the literal assassin. 
“So…” You trail but the lights turn off and you hear the countdown start from one of the speakers around the room. Geeze, the night had gotten away from you. 
“Shall we?” He asks, stepping in front of you. New Year's kiss. Okay, holy shit. This is. Okay, you got this. You hear them say three and you get ready, cupping his face in your hands. You figure this is the best time to say it. Hell, you both have practically been saying it for years now. Just now it’ll be in a language you both understand.
“I love you.” You whisper as everyone shouts Happy New Year around the two of you. 
Kissing him, he holds you close and you’re sure you’re about ten seconds into the new year before he pulls back from the kiss. 
“I love you, too.”
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websterss · 2 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 — 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Y/n finds it difficult already living in one of the most hated towns, but imagine her shock when Shadyside’s very own Sunset Curve's frontman and high school band percussionist takes a liking to her.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): some fluff
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,743
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Alive!Luke Patterson x fem!Reader, Deena Johnson x fem!Reader
𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! ♡ Feedback is always welcomed!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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Shadyside, 1994.
“Hey come check out our gig this Friday, it’s gonna be a night to remember!” Luke, Alex, Reggie, and Bobby handed out T-shirts and their demo to a few classmates. Luke patted the back of some of them for encouragement.
“Sunset Curve, that’s us!” Alex pointed at himself. Then put his head down.
“Tell your friends, okay!” Reggie winked at a few girls who blushed.
“Hey, are you doing anything this Friday?” Bobby left the group and joined a group of girls who giggled at his approach.
“Guys I can’t wait for this week’s gig! I can barely even focus on class.” Luke stopped at his locker to take out an empty notebook and pencil for his next class.
“You don’t even pay attention regardless…” Alex called him out.
“Yeah well…I’m-“ Luke scratched his head trying to come up with something to say.
“-Excited.” Reggie started.
“-and can’t stop reminding everyone about Friday…” Alex gave him a pointed look.
“Okay, okay. I get it, I’ll shut up.” Luke laughed, hitting them playfully. “But come on guys, this gig could be our big break for us. Imagine all the record execs and the labels that’ll want to sign us. This could be huge!”
“Well, until then we have a math test to get to.” Alex reminded them.
“Shit that was today?” Luke began panicking. “No, no, no.”
“We have a test? I thought that wasn't until next week” Reggie’s eyes grew wide.
"Today is next week." Alex shook his head, as he took his notebook out of his bag.
“I’m screwed.” Luke's arms flopped to his sides. “My mom already got onto me for skipping classes, if I get another bad grade…” He sighed. “This is the start of a bad day boys.” He grew annoyed but then did a complete 180 when he saw you. “Did I say bad day? I meant my day just got a whole lot better now that I’ve been blessed by the sight that is Y/n Y/L/N!” Luke bit his lip as he called after you. You walked by him and the guys in the hallway. “Hey Y/n, has anyone told you today you look beautiful?” Luke leaned against his locker and nudged his chin up at you. You were on the other side of the hallway opening your locker. You rolled your eyes and turned around.
“Fuck you, Luke!” You scoffed at his attempts to get at you again.
“Well if you’re offering, then by all means lead the way-“ He walked over to you and leaned against the locker next to yours.
“Keep dreaming…” You laughed and shoved him away.
“I will.” He smiled at you and stared at you with a glint in his eyes.
It was like a staring contest, trying to see who’d break first to have the upper hand. That’s how it’s always been between you two. A contest to see who could resist the other person’s charms and flirtatious attempts. You bit your lower lip and rolled your eyes. Luke did a little victory dance in his head. He truly felt lucky that he could hold your attention. Work you up to make you smile just a little bit longer at him. Crack a stupid joke to hear your affectionous laugh. Tell you how truly beautiful you looked just to watch that little glint in your eyes appear. It made his stomach swirl of butterflies….butterflies were cool. 
Not that he’d ever tell anyone that.
He let you switch out your textbooks in peace before opening his mouth to tell you about Friday.
“Hey, so I was wondering-“ He scratched the back of his head.
“Move!”
You looked up right as Deena came through and shoved the brunette out of the way. Luke looked stunned. The push had him stumble backward a bit. Gravity defied him, so he fell on his ass in front of everyone in the hallway. He got up trying to play it cool. Yet you could see a snip of his pride melt away. You bit back a laugh as your eyes flicker between Deena switching out a notebook from her locker next to yours and Luke scowling at her.
“Hey, Deena.” You smiled at her.
She stopped what she was doing and gave you her attention. 
“Hey.” She stuttered. Luke had been forgotten about for a second. “Ready for the test today?”
“I can’t decide if I want to hurl or faint. Mr. Delancey always adds a bonus question to throw us off, and I don’t know if I can remember the circumference of a circle.” You joked.
“I’m sure you’re gonna do great…did my notes help?” Deena bit her lip.
“They did actually-“ You swung your bag around to the front of you and pulled out her notebook.
“Thanks again for letting me borrow them.”
“It was no problem…anything to help.” You met her eyes as she slowly took the notebook back.
Once Luke was at your side again you turned to face him and slapped the side of his shoulder playfully. “You okay there?” Luke could hear the pitch in your tone switch. You were picking on him.
“What? That? It was nothing…” He shrugged it off. “Deena and I joke around like that all the time.” He laughed, then proceeded to hit her shoulder with his own. “Right, Deena?” Deena fell into the lockers with a slight thud. You winced. She looked about ready to kill him. You laughed nervously. Luke and Deena stared each other down. You wanted the tension between them to dissolve so you opted to drop your notebooks on the ground. The two turned away from each other and peered to the floor then you pretended to have clumsily dropped your stuff. Luke immediately bent down to retrieve your notebook while Deena collected the few pens that rolled away.
The two stood to their feet handing you your belongings. 
“T-Thanks.” Your hands brushed against Deenas first. Then you turned towards Luke, his fingertips purposely curling under your palm, letting his touch linger. “T-Thanks.” God, you swore your heart was pounding in your ears. How did anyone handle a crush let alone two? 
You could almost hear a pin drop before they broke the silence.
“You coming to the concert this Friday-”
“You going to the game on Friday-”
Oh boi.
You straightened up as the two turned their heads at each other confused.
“Yeah!” You blurted out without a second thought.
“Yeah, you’ll be at the concert?” Luke pointed at himself.
“-Or yeah you’ll be at the football game?” Deena pointed to herself.
You froze, your eyes growing. You swallowed down your anxiety slowly building up. You were about to open your mouth but got saved by the bell.
“Thank god…” You sighed in relief only to realize they heard you say it out loud. You opened your eyes to see them waiting for your answer. “I-uh. Math!” You pointed past them and sped off like your life depended on it. “Oh my god what is wrong with you?” You muttered under your breath to yourself.
Luke watched you walk away with furrowed brows before turning over to Deena who was closing her locker shut.
“Since when did you fancy, Y/L/N?” He eyed her up and down crossing his arms over his chest.
“Since she kissed me underneath the bleachers behind the football field.” She smirked watching his ego dying.
“No way. Seriously?”
“No! Don’t you have a math test to fail?” She shoved past him, walking off to the class you all shared for the third period.
“Deena wait.” He held her arm, making her halt.
“What?” She sighed, waiting for him to continue.
He saw right through the wall she was putting up. He knew about her first girlfriend Sam, though things didn’t seem to work out. Yet he guessed Deena moved on considering she had been trying to gain your attention for weeks now, just as he was trying his hardest. She looked back down towards the door you entered.
“Holy shit! You’re serious. You like her.”
“No, I just wanna use her for notes. No shit, Sherlock. She’s amazing, can you blame a girl?” Deena shrugged.
“That’s gonna be a problem for me?”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah…cause I like her too.”
She found him trying to be intimidating, amusing. “Do you want a gold star or something?” She crossed her arms.
“No, but I want to ask her out.”
“So do I.”
“Rock, paper, scissors?” He suggested.
“How about…” She paused and reached into her flannel. She brought her hand out and directed her middle finger at him. The huge smile on her face made Luke roll his eyes. “How about this though, we just play it daily until Friday to see who she’s interested in. She’ll either show up to the concert or the game and then we’ll see who she likes. No bitching, no complaining.”
“Okay, okay, I can work with that.” He nodded, even though he wasn’t sure about it.
“You sure?”
“Yeah…for sure.” He nodded.
“Okay, burnout. See ya in math.” She smirked at him. She shoved a slip of paper into his chest and walked off to class. Luke brought his hand up to his chest to catch the slip of paper. He turned it over and chuckled. He looked up in time to see Deena at the other end of the hall. It was a cheat sheet. “Thanks!” She only responded by throwing a thumbs up in the air. He heard the final warning bell go off, as he picked up his book bag. He hurried up and entered the class as Mr. Delancey was just about to shut the door. He gave the man a small smile before taking his usual spot behind you towards the back. He smiled as he watched you go over your notes. Your foot tapped lightly against the ground. He knew how stressed you got when it came to the test. He almost felt bad for pulling you out of your thoughts, but he gently tapped his finger against your left shoulder. Without even turning around, you automatically rested a pencil on your shoulder for him to grab. He bit his lip to prevent a smile from breaking out.
“Thank you, beautiful.” He whispered. You hummed in response, then got back to going over your notes before Mr. Delancey told everyone to put their things away.
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loveandmurders · 28 days
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The Sun of Ambrose II (Sinclair daughter!reader)
Hello everyone, this is the second part of a new Sinclair!daughter AU in which the reader is Bo's daughter and she has been taken away and adopted by a new family.
This is the direct continuation of this.
Hope you'll enjoy! <3
Warnings : No proof reading, angst, mentions of a boy groping, touching and wanting to rape reader, killer!reader, violence, blood, anger, manipulation.
Your grandfather and grandmother were killers. 
Your father and uncles were killers. 
Even if you didn’t know about all of this yet, it was written in your blood, in your DNA. You were born to be a killer too. You were born with this rage and with this skill. You were born to be something else than just normal. 
You weren’t a lost little girl anymore.
You were 16. 
You were doing your best to have the life your adoptive parents wanted you to have; you were good at school, you had friends, you were going out to parties. You were mute so things could sometimes be a bit difficult, but you were enjoying watching people in silence. You knew everyone’s secrets and dramas. You knew people’s weaknesses and desires.
So you knew when John came to greet you one morning, he didn’t have good intentions towards you. 
“Hello sweetheart. It’s been a little while since I've noticed you. We’re in the same maths class by the way. You remember me?” he said and you nodded to let him know you did remember him. He brightly smiled “Awesome. So, my friends are organising a party on Friday night and I’d love you to come with me” he offered.
You licked your lips and leaned into your seat, wondering what to do. He was towering over you and everything in his gestures showed he was acting like a predator. He probably thought that since you were mute, you would be a very easy prey.
You weren’t too happy to put yourself into danger, but at the same time you were bored out of your mind and your parents would be happy if you would go out with a boy. It would be another proof that you were settling in your life and that everything was going alright. And as long as you were wearing your sun necklace, you weren’t afraid for yourself. 
You finally nodded again and his smile turned into a smirk.
“Brillant, girl. See you on Friday’s night. I’ll come get you at your place” he said before leaving. 
He really wasn’t interested in you in a good way. 
You neither.
Your mother was really excited for you so she helped you get ready for what she was calling a “date”. You dolled up like you were supposed to before leaving the house without feeling anything. Your parents reminded you to be careful. 
Little did they know that at the instant you got into John’s car, he placed his hand on your thigh and groped you. You softly pushed him and gestured for him to drive to the party, which he finally did.
You were annoyed. 
Once at the party, he quickly greeted the people he knew, keeping you by his side like you keep a pet. You hated it. You started to get angry. It was a quiet anger you knew a little too well. You did everything to keep it manageable inside your heart. You couldn’t have a crisis here, in front of those people you were going to school with. You didn’t want your parents to get you to the doctors again.
You kept a smile on your face, even when he rushed you upstairs and found the closest empty bedroom he could. He hushed you inside, before locking the door behind you two.
“Ah finally alone, baby” he mused
You knew what his intentions toward you were but you weren’t afraid, you were oddly calm as you watched his every move. The fact that someone would want to hurt you and use you was making you burn with anger now. You had never felt so full of rage, and yet it was the cold madness of a killer that was taking possession of you. You knew what was going to happen, but you also knew you weren’t the prey. 
Your father and uncles started to teach you how to take care of yourself, how to kill, even if they never said it was for killing. It was always to protect yourself from “the bad people of this hostile world”. You had continued to learn how to fight without your parents knowing.
And even if you had never shed blood before, you were ready. The rage was too strong to make it stay inside of you. You smiled as the boy came closer to you, clearly not realising he was the mouse, and not the cat. He touched you and you let him do it, at first. 
“I knew you were going to be a good girl” he murmured to you and you hummed in answer. You gently grabbed him by the hair before your grip tightened and without a warning shot you moved to the side and brutally led his head against the wall. You hit him hard and he got disoriented. You continued to hit him over and over again.
You killed him. 
You killed him violently. And you felt good, oh so good. For the first time in years, the anger quieted down and you felt like you could finally breathe. 
You cleaned up the crime scene, your bloody hands and face, and his body before leaving it where it was. Your black dress was hiding the blood stains littering it but you knew you would need to burn it down once you would be back home. You went downstairs to dance with the others, as if nothing had happened. 
The body was found only when everyone thought it was time to go to sleep.
Of course the police interrogated you, but they couldn’t believe that such an innocent looking girl, who went through so much in her life already and was hence very soft, could have killed someone with such hatred. Your parents were so relieved nothing happened to you, not realising you were the danger. 
No one even found out who killed John.
And you found this very exciting.
So you continued to kill.
You realised you were very good at it, as if it was a gift running through your veins. Whenever you felt anger, you left your house at night for a “little walk”. You would easily find a new prey; anyone was good enough for it. It was also why the police couldn’t find you: there was no link between your victims, not even their profile. You killed for the sake of it, for the well being it finally gave you. You were known as the “serial killer of the shadows”. Your parents always worried when you were wandering around at night, not realising you were the danger prowling around the city. 
Killing wasn’t the only joy in your life, even if it was getting a big part of it. Around the same time you murdered John, you asked your parents to take up art classes. You wanted to do sculptures, to build things with your hands. You enjoyed doing pottery a lot. It was appeasing you because you could just focus on your hands and on your art. You were very good at it, mostly because you watched Vincent making art a lot so his gestures were written inside your brain.
You started to work on wax as well. You asked your parents to buy you the materials and they agreed. They were happy you were expressing yourself through art. It was certain you were doing better now. They had no idea that you simply still wanted to be Sinclairs’ heir. You wanted to find them again one day, and to prove to them that you were the only daughter they needed. You wanted to come back home more than anything. You knew your "real" father would understand your anger. You weren’t too sure if he and your uncles were killing the tourists, but you were certain they wouldn’t judge you for your night activities. You would be free in Ambrose… You just needed to find your way back to it.
And one day, it happened.
“So, Y/N, where would you like to go during the holidays this summer?” your adoptive father asked you as you were all having dinner in the living room. You had meant to talk to them about your biological family for a quite a while now and it felt like the perfect moment.
“I want to go in the South of the country” you replied and your parents were surprised you seemed so determined about it
“Why there?” you mother hummed
“Because I come from there… I want to find where I come from. I want to find what happened to my mother… I mean I want to know if she was right about my father”, you explained
“I’m not certain this is a good idea, hon” your mother instantly replied and you pouted, disappointed but ready to fight for it
“Why not?”
“We… We haven’t told you about all the stories we heard about your family. Your mother had the time to say quite a lot about them and the fact you weren’t even officially existing for the State is proving a lot. You were a child so you probably don’t remember or didn’t understand what was going on…” she babbled
“What you mother means is that they are dangerous people and we can’t just go find him” your father added
“This is unfair. I need to know my past. If you were at my place, wouldn’t you want to know the truth?”
The discussion stopped there for the moment but a few days later, your parents offered you a deal. The plan was you would all go to the South of the country for some holidays. You would try to find the region where you came from, but you wouldn’t try to find your father. You agreed. 
The problem was you didn’t know exactly where Ambrose was, but you had found your uncle Lester’s town on a map. At least you thought you remembered it was. Your mother and you found somewhere nice with a cute little hotel around the area you wanted. You hope to find your way back home… and to find your family again. You had changed quite a lot and you weren’t too sure your family would recognise you. However, you were still wearing your sun necklace.
You thought the day of the trip would never come, as you were so excited about it. You could feel in your bones that you were finally coming back home, so many years after having left it. Your parents were a little bit on edge, but they loved you too much to cancel the holidays. Your mother had a very bad feeling about all of it.
However, once on the roads, you couldn’t help but panic when the car went by on the dusty roads without going by the advertisements for the House of Wax. You remembered them by heart as you saw them quite a lot when you were in Lester’s truck. You worried you would come by close to Ambrose but not close enough. You worried you wouldn’t find your family. You worried everything was lost forever. Your adoptive parents noticed how you looked around and they asked you if you were alright.
“I come from here” you admitted to them as you signed. They exchanged a very concerned look at those words.
“Are you sure? You recognised this place? Your mother asked you in a soothing manner
“Not really, but the roads were the same when I was a child. It’s not here, but it must be in this area. My family is so close by now” you replied
“Hon… We are your family” your mother frowned
“You know what I mean… I want to see them, I want to see my dad again” you shyly signed, knowing your adoptive parents wouldn’t be happy about it. They did exchange another look, full of concern.
“We already talked about it… We want you to be safe and… your biological father didn’t seem like a good person. We don’t want you to meet up with him… and certainly not like that” your mother continued as your father stopped the car and parked.
“You don’t know him, we don’t know if my mother said the truth. He never hurt me when I was a child” you said
“You didn't know him either. What your mother did…” she trailed off
“But now we’re here, we can have a look around” your father offered to your mother’s dismay. 
They argued in whispers until you left the car. 
You recognised the violent heat of the sun hitting you, you recognised how silent the road was, you recognised how easy it was to get lost and in need of help here. You had to be close to Ambrose, you could feel it in your heart.
“Let's get back in the car, honey. We’ll go to the hotel we booked and we’ll talk some more about all of this. It’s understandable you want to find your father, even just out of curiosity… But you cannot just come over like that. You don’t know how he would react, what he became after you left… We need to respect a process” your mother rationalised and you were forced to agree with her.
A little voice inside your head wondered what would happen if your family didn’t recognise you? Would they kill you like they probably got rid of the tourists during your childhood?
And yet, you prayed for the car to stop working or for Lester’s truck to appear on the road. Unfortunately, you safely travelled to the hotel. You all ate at a restaurant before deciding to go to sleep and to talk about everything the day after. Your parents thought it was better to rest and have a good night sleep before doing anything. They might hope you would calm down as well.
You didn’t. You talked about finding your dad right at breakfast.
“I could find my father” you said
“It has been said that you didn’t know where you came from exactly and that you didn’t even know your father’s name.” your mother said “Did you lie about all of this? Did you try to protect him somehow?” she continued and you hated to be trapped in your own lie
“I didn’t know back then. But when I saw the roads, I remembered” you replied
“Makes sense,” your father nodded and gently smiled at you.
“I don’t like this,” your mother whined. She had always been very protective of you and she felt something was off.
“Look, darling, we’re going to find a solution for everyone to be happy.” your father continued to smile “The two of you are going to have a nice day out together and I’m going to look for your biological father. If you can just show me on the maps where he used to live… And if I can find him, I’ll talk with him and make sure he is good enough to meet with you. How does it sound?” he offered
“It’s rushed! He was a violent man, how do you know he won’t hurt you, hurt her?” your mother continued 
“If you don’t have news after an hour, you’ll call the police. Y/N needs to realise who her father is to move on in her life. That’s normal. Everyone needs to know and understand where they come from. And even if it’s rushed, even if it doesn’t sound like a good plan, she needs it now. We have to try.” your father replied. 
“This is too risky. We can ask for the administration to help us with this… Especially if he is a bad man. It’s indeed important but we need to take our time.” your mother argued back so you started to cry. 
It was always your most efficient weapon. 
It was settled then.
Your adoptive father would look for Bo Sinclair.
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Part III
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Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @12gaugefalls ; @kriston1210
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plussizefantasia · 8 months
Text
Revenge
Flufftober Day 18: Teacher AU
literature teacher!Loki Laufeyson x math teacher!reader
Word Count: 1.5k
AN: I actually love this one so much. I also just realized that we are over halfway done with Flufftober which is kind of sad. Anyway, we've got 13 more days left and I'm looking forward to the plans I have for each one. If you liked this story please reblog and I'll see y'all tomorrow.
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divider credit @royallaesthetics
You are going to kill him. You are going to murder that man. You stayed after your last class yesterday so that you would be able to draw out the problems that your students would have to solve for class today. Now, written right on top of your trigonometry diagrams were the words:
“Mathematics may be defined as the subject in which we never know what we are talking about, nor whether what we are saying is true. -Bertrand Russell”
Written in the ever so familiar scrawl of the Literature Teacher, Mr. Laufeyson. Loki was a nice guy, a great teacher, and at times, a giant pain in your ass. You have no idea how this little feud of yours got started but you are certain that it has escalated beyond what it once was.
At the start, it was just funny little jokes between the two of you. He had once stolen all of the red pens that you used to grade your student’s quizzes and when you went to go look for them, they had all been taped together in one big ball and were sitting in your “Math is Fun” mug that you kept in the teacher's lounge. That was annoying and you also had no real way of knowing who had done it. Until he had brought it up the next day and asked how grading had gone.
You had retaliated by going in early the next morning and moving all of the furniture in his classroom an inch to the left. It had thrown him off just enough that he had tripped on his rug during a lecture and faceplanted. All of your students were talking about it two periods later when they arrived in your class and you were all smiles for the rest of the day.
So far, there has not been any lasting damage, and all of your coworkers find it more amusing than annoying which is a good thing because neither of you wanted to get the administration involved. 
You were not amused by the board graffiti you had found when you came in your class this morning, and while you were re-drawing the problems he had ruined you were thinking of how you could get back to him later that day.
Your plans for revenge had to be put on the back burner as students started filing into your classroom. Half of them looked so tired that you genuinely thought they might fall asleep at their desks and the others looked entirely too frazzled for 7:30 in the morning.
It wasn’t until after you had had your lunch break that an idea had come to you about a way to get back at Loki. You grabbed the pile of graded quizzes from your desk, ones that you were able to grade in red pen thank you very much, and started making your way upstairs to where Mr. Laufeyson’s class was located.
You knew that he was teaching his British Literature elective right now, as it was fifth period. You also knew that most of the kids in that class were also in your Calculus class at the end of the day.
You didn’t wait for very long before pulling open the door to his classroom and waltzing right in with a smirk across your face.
“Good Afternoon Mr. Laufeysoon, pardon the interruption but I have some quizzes I need to give back to some students ASAP.” Without waiting for a response you began walking up and down the rows of desks in his class passing out the graded quizzes to your very amused students. You noticed that he had stopped talking when you had walked into the room and hadn’t started up again. “Go ahead,” you had told him, “don’t want to waste valuable teaching time.” You continued to pass out the papers, all while trying to not burst out laughing at the look on his face.
“Um, yes right. Well as I was saying. Shakespeare was a minor god of his time. His ability to-”
“Hey Derek, I wanted to talk to you about this question that you got wrong, would you be able to stay a little bit after our class to talk about it.” You sent a small wink to Derek and put a finger to your mouth to indicate that he shouldn’t say anything. “I just don’t want to waste any class time going over it today, we have a lot to cover.” Derek just nodded and you could see his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.
“Are you done?” Loki asked, slanting his hips to one side and placing the hand not holding his open book on them. “Because I have a class to be teaching right now.” He lifted his eyebrows and you acquiesced. You wanted to mess with him, not ruin his whole class plan for that day.
“Yes, I’m done. Thank you for letting me hand those out.” You smiled sweetly at him and began walking back out of his room. Just barely hearing his mutter of “I didn’t let you do anything.” As you passed by him.
Mission accomplished you headed back down to your classroom and started gathering up the things you would need to teach the next period. You didn’t expect that he would have the time to be able to get you back today. But you were for sure expecting some kind of retaliation the next day.
It wasn’t until your last period that you were proven wrong. Everything seemed normal, your students filled in slightly ansty as it was the last period and everyone was ready to go home. They all pulled out their work and started on the problems you had written on the board. 
It wasn’t until you started calling on them that you realized what you had opened yourself up to.
You called on Derek first, he was one of the more academically inclined students you had but he was shy about answering in front of the class. You knew he had gotten the answer right, you had looked at his work before you called them all back to focus. But what you weren't expecting was for him to give you his answer in eh most god-awful British accent you had ever heard.
“I doth believeth that the answer to this problemeth is 42.3”. You were baffled. You had no idea what was going on and the fact that Derek had said all this with such a straight face made you think you were having some kind of hallucination episode in the middle of class. But instead of mentioning it you just decided to move on.
“Oh-kay. Um… Samantha what did you get for number 2.”
Again you were met with an awful accent and weird olde- english phrasing.
“Yes, Madame, the answereth I haveth arrived at was X equaleth 110”.
Now that you knew you weren’t just having a breakdown and something was actually happening you didn’t hold yourself back.
“What is happening right now? I don’t- why are you guys being so weird.”
You were met with utter silence, which was rare in your classroom of 23 teenagers. But you didn’t move on. You stared each of them down, focusing a little harder on trying to get the weak ones to crack. Finally, it was Abigail who let the cat out of the bag. She was sweet, but notoriously bad at keeping secrets.
“Mr. Laufeyson said he would give five bonus points to anyone who used a bad accent in your class today.” She let out in all one breath, “More points if you spoke like someone out of Shakespeare.”
You ran your tongue across the front of your teeth. “Did he?” You let out a sort of incredulous laugh and shook your head a little. “Well then, bonus points on the next quiz to whoever can steal the marble apple off his desk and bring it to me tomorrow.” Your students all began to laugh a little bit and some had a look of extreme determination across their faces at your words.
Your class continued sans silly accents and you sent your students home for the day without any homework. As you started cleaning up your desk, putting your laptop in your bag, and grabbing your sweater off the back of your chair you were interrupted by the voice of your arch-nemesis.
“You are positively wicked.” Loki was leaning up against the frame of the door to your classroom, his jacket also on his arm and his messenger bag slung across his shoulders.
“You started it with the Russell quote on my board. You knew how much time I put into drawing those problems.”
“Admit it, it made you smile when you saw it.” He began to cross across the room towards your desk,
“Maybe, but what really almost made me lose it laughing was Samantha’s horrible British accent.” You looked up at him and let out a small laugh at the memory. “So maybe, Mr. Laufeyson, you are the wicked one.”
“I might be, Mrs. Laufeyson but you were the one who married me.”
“Yeah, I guess I did.” You chuckled once again and leaned up to place a kiss upon your husband’s lips.
“May I ask what plans you have concocted to get back at me tomorrow Darling?” He asked.
“You’ll just have to wait and see for yourself tomorrow, Love.”
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Maths genius (Michael Gavey x Reader)
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synopsis: You ask your class mate for a tutor session under the guise of desperately needing it. To his surprise he gets something much better than having to try to teach a girl maths.
warnings: flirting, smut, a bit of dry humping, p in v sex, afab reader
word count: 2.7k
taglist: @fan-goddess @hopelesswritergall
(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom/series or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)
A/N: Writers block still has me tight in it´s clutches, but I´ve watched Saltburn for the first time today and I didn´t want to write on this for another week so here you have my first Michael Gavey fic.
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As you walk into the otherwise quiet library the clicking of your heels fills the room. Prompting a few students to turn their heads and look. You don't think much about them as you take a book from the large shelves and spot a person from your lectures. Michael Gavey. So you decide to sit down close to him. You had always thought him to be rather cute. Even if nerdy and slightly off putting, still.
You focus back on the book in front of you. However, in a matter of minutes however your confident posture crumbles to a confused expression.
It takes another while for you to look up from the book in frustration. So you miss the way he avoids eye contact at all costs. Yet you search it out nevertheless.
"Hey, you are Michael Gavey, right?" You speak quietly as to not disturb the other students.
“Uh yeah” His tone is nothing short of standoff-ish and at the same time surprised. It is clear that he wasn’t expecting to be spoken to.
It takes you back slightly, but you continue nonetheless. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to bother you, but we are in the same class."
“Oh, we are. I don’t remember your name though.”
You offer him your name with a small smile. You understand that he hadn't had the easiest time connecting with your classmates, so you made a point to be different from them.
"Say, you are like a certified maths genius. Do you do tutoring?" You switch seats to sit right across the table from him.
A not entirely recognizable spark lights up behind the glasses as you do so.
“Uh… I don’t tutor or anything. Are you having trouble?” His tone softens ever so slightly.
"Yes. I have been falling behind ever since we started the new topic. I just don't get it. At all." You play with a strand of your hair and lean forward a bit in the hopes to make him say yes.
As soon as he identifies your flirting you can see he draws a blank. It's honestly kinda cute.
“Well, m-maybe you want to come over to my place later..." When he realizes that that could sound weird taken out of context, he quickly adds "So I can teach you.”
"That would be just great, but I thought maybe we could meet up at my dorm?”
You take one of your fingers to trace small patterns into the back of his hand. You know you are laying it on thick, it´s visible in the uncertain spark behind the nerdy glasses, lighting up his piercing blue eyes.
“Yeah, of course! Let’s do your room. What building are you in?” The way Michael nods so fast you are scared that his glasses fall off, makes you hide a giggle behind your hand.
"Gimme your hand." You grab a pen and pull his hand towards you.
When you write your room number onto the inside of his wrist, Michael´s eyes lock with yours like a deer in headlights.
“Got it. I’ll be over at 7:00. Will that work?”
"That works perfectly actually. I'll see you then." You give him a wink and strut away with what Michael believes to be a bit of a spring in your step.
“Um... yeah... see you then.”
His eyes follow your retreating form until you are out of sight, before he looks down at your note again, while you smile to yourself. There is only one more lecture separating you from your little `date´.
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One lecture and one clothing change later, you are just about to freshen up your lipgloss when a faint knock can be heard from the door. Right on the time that you agreed upon. Michael looks down to his shuffling feet on the ground when you open the door to him, which gives you the advantage of seeing his full reaction to seeing your clothes. Bit by bit his blue eyes wander up over the thigh high stockings, pausing at the pleated skirt and over the oversized sweater until they come to a halt on your face. Instantly any sound of your name dies on his tongue.
“I um… I’m here for the… the math lesson.” He mumbles. It's almost comical how his face reddens as he pushes the glasses up his nose.
The reaction elicits a giggle from you. It is obvious that there will be a lot done tonight, but studying wouldn't take up the biggest part of it.
"Come on in." You take a step back to make way for his tall figure to enter your room.
He nods once as he does so. His gaze getting drawn back to you as he tries to maintain eye contact.
“You look… uh…”
"I look...?" It's kind of fun to see him struggle like this.
“H-hot. You look really hot and it’s distracting.” He quickly looks down so as to avoid your gaze again to hide the worsening of the blush. "So, where do we start?”
"At the beginning, maybe?" You smirk.
“Yeah… good point.” He sits down at the desk while you lean over him.
As he opens your book and begins to explain to you the foundations of the topic you let your breasts graze Michael's back and arm deliberately every now and again to put him off. It's not a hard task, with every brush of your sweater against his shirt, he stumbles over his words. It is palpable that no matter how hard he is trying to concentrate on the work in front of him, your body pulls his eyes away from the book again and again. At one point you even think you can see his length twitch underneath the cargo shorts. Letting this go on for as long as you can, you eventually put on a seemingly concerned and innocent face and lay a hand on his forehead as if to feel his temperature.
"My... You are so warm. Are you feeling well?"
Behind his eyes the wheels are turning in a desperate attempt to think of a clever response, but at this point it is just impossible. As soon as you placed your hand on Michael's forehead, all that comes out is “I-I… uh… I… “
"Come, sit on the bed. I think we should take a break from studying." You gently take his hands in yours to lead him over to the edge of your bed.
A lead without even thinking about it. The urge to just give himself up to you is building rapidly by the second.
“S-sorry. Uh… I mean I… “
"Shhh." You lay your finger under his chin to keep his gaze locked with yours. "Is this your first time?"
"Yes." Michael breathes out.
"Stop me if I go too far..." You murmur against his lips, closing your eyes just before you lean down more for your lips to meet in a feather light brush.
A shiver went through his previously relaxed body and his hot breath hit your lips harder as he kissed back. Your hand that currently holds him by the chin wanders upwards to cup one of Michael's cheeks. His hands begin to slide down the outside of your thigh, suddenly pulling you onto his lap. As he does so, the fabric of the skirt bunches at your waist. The action provokes your breath to falter and to press your body as close to his as possible. Instinctively your lips open further, to allow for a more intense kiss. One of Michael´s hands wanders behind your back to support you on his lap and then, finally, he moves his lips to your neck, giving it a soft bite.
"Oh, Michael." You whimper as his teeth graze your skin. Grinding your core against his lap as a reaction.
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His hands wander further up under the fabric of your sweater, cold skin caressing warm skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.
"Don't stop kissing me, please." Your words are barely a shuddering whisper.
His mouth leaves your neck and moves down your body to kiss your chest through the thick sweater. Sucking on your nipples until there are two wet spots staining it. The bundled nerves standing hard at attention, but your sweater is in the way of what you are doing, so his hands wander from just under your ribs further up. With a tingle running down your spine you lift your arms up in aiding him to throw the piece of fabric to the side. Not caring where it lands. You are all too glad to lose it. He too doesn't waste a single second and litters your breasts with kisses and nibbles. This time though, you feel a tug at the hem of your skirt.
The sensation makes your desire for him grow incredibly high. The zipper on the side  gets opened fast and in a swift motion you lift your body off his lap just long enough to kick it aside. There is no time or need for words.
"Your body is incredible." The words hit your skin between heavy breaths as his hands run over your stomach, rubbing tight circles into the soft skin before continuing to wander down to massage your thighs. Michael's lips wander further down your body as well to follow suit. His warm tongue traces down your middle from the valley between your breasts down to just about your belly button. Your reaction to his teasing came instantly in the form of a quiet moan. Which got followed by a knock at your door. Assuming it was just your friend that forgot something the other day, you don't make an effort to stop what you are currently doing. She needed to learn eventually after all, a notion which gets you an uncertain look from Michael beneath you.
But you only place a finger on your lips in a sign to be quiet.
"Shhh" You whisper to him and then thread your hands into his short hair to guide his face right in front of your exposed chest. Something he willingly allows, attaching his lips to nibble at your bosom. Littering it with bite marks and hickeys, tracing every little curve of it. The ministrations get you to completely forget about the knock on the door just a second ago and also the one rule you set after it. Yet at his needy nibbles and licks you can't help being unable to hold back the squeal of enjoyment that sounds through the room.
In a hurry Michael moves his mouth away from your chest and covers your mouth with one of his hands.
“Shhhhh... Your friend will hear us.” His palm lays snug against your face, so as not to let any sounds through. Something that you allow until you get a better idea. Unbothered if the two of you can be heard any longer, you warp your lips around Michael´s long, slender fingers to swirl your tongue around them teasingly.
A shock of warmth goes through his body, making itself noticeable by the way his face burned. When you feel like he had been teased enough, you let his hand free with a wet `pop´
Immediately they get replaced by his lips once more as they catch yours in a searing kiss, at which you let out a most sinful sounding moan.
“Fuck…” Both of you curse under your breaths simultaneously.
By now he has done a great job at making you desperate for more and so your trembling fingers move down to work at the buttons of his shirt. It takes a while, but eventually and with a bit of teamwork, you are able to throw it to the ground as well. Just then Michael leans all the way back until his back lays flat against the mattress. The new position makes it easier for you to grind against him, a chance you use immediately by running your barely covered cunt over the tent in the blond's pants.
"I need more..." A tiny whimper passes Michael's lips. "Need to be inside of you."
At his words your hands stop caressing his body and come down to fumble open the button of his pants. Though you don't entirely grant him his wish yet. The moment is too good to not stretch out. His pants and underwear get pulled down barely as far as they need to, before you grind on his dick again. As you do so, his member twitches up to tease your covered clit, which makes your head fall back and mouth open to make way for steadily heavier growing breaths.
When you lean forward to lock your swollen lips with his again however you move your hips a bit too far. So as you move them backwards again you only have a short moment to process the fact that his cock had slipped past the lace panties and entered your fluttering, wet heat.
“You´re so tight.” Michael can´t fight off or quieten the loud moan any longer, but the complete lack of stimulation after what you had done previously began to get to you.
“Shit. Michael I really need you to move or else I´m going crazy.” Though it wasn´t an ask from your side it also wasn´t a command, yet the blond followed it instantly. His hands gripped your hips tightly and set a slow rhythm by guiding your movements to meet his thrusts.
Both of your moans, groans, whines and whimpers fill the room along with the wet slapping of skin against skin.
”Feels so good, Michael. Feel so good inside of me.” You lean back and prop yourself up on his thighs, allowing you to fasten the movements of your hips.
“I´m not going to last much longer. You´re so wet and perfect.” He mumbles as the flush on his cheeks darkened and spreading over his face until it reached the tips of his ears.
His cock twitches inside of you as if to underline that statement. So you lead one of his hands away from your hips to your throbbing clit. Picking up on your actions Michael's thumb rubs small, tight circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Reveling in the way your walls flutter even further around his length, bringing him closer to the edge as your noises become even more urgent and high pitched.
“Come for me.” You say when you feel yourself get close as well. It is a whisper at first, but with a little concentration from that hazy brain of yours, you are able to repeat it a little louder. “Come for me, now.”
The blond´s eyes roll back into his head, one last whimper leaves his lips and then the feeling of warm ropes of cum filling your core floods your body. His hips stutter in their movements, but yours are from done. Continuously and relentlessly they drive you up and down on his cock. Soon after Michael you get overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure, forcing you to sit back in his lap as your legs and hips shake from the climax. Swaying back and forth on top of him for a while, before you are able to catch your breath and think straight again.
“Shit…” You hear Michael whisper beneath you.
Looking down at him, you can´t conceal a giggle at how entirely fucked out he looks. His hair is mussed and his glasses sit slightly crooked on that sharp nose. It´s almost comical.
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The two of you take some more time to come back to reality and get dressed again.
“I better be going now.” Michael croaks, lingering close to you for a second. Uncertain if he should say what he was thinking. “But um… If you would like to have another study session some time… I wouldn´t be opposed to that.”
“I wouldn´t be opposed to it at all either.” Followed your flirty response.
It surprises him visibly, though he manages to sort himself out rather quickly.
“Do you mean that?” He inquires.
“I surely do. Give me your number and I´ll call you.” It is more of a suggestion, but he gives you his number so fast you almost have trouble catching it the first time. Snapping your phone shut after saving it, you turn to look back at Michael.
“I can´t wait to see you again.” You wink and give a small, alluring wave.
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dual1pa · 1 year
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prom
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warnings: using she/her pronouns, lanugage, all around fluff, heavy makeouts in car
not really proofread
18+ ONLY Y’ALL
enjoy :)
All she thought about was prom. She’s been looking forward to the very special night since she was a freshman at Hawkins High.
She was more than halfway through her senior year and she was ready to graduate and get the hell out of that place. However, the only thing keeping her going: PROM
She already cut out several potential prom dresses in the paper and taped them to her bedroom wall to create a large collage and has it narrowed down to two. They were both equally as perfect, but she just couldn’t decide. 
Of course, she had the perfect boy in mind to be her prom date: Eddie Munson. However, he cringed at every prom poster he walked past in the hallways. 
He wasn’t the type of guy to “dress up.” A simple jean jacket and black pants would suffice his forever wardrobe.
She, of course, fell for him in the 10th grade. He sat next to her in English class. It wasn’t right, of course, but she let him look at her tests to help him pass the class — which he did. The two were complete opposites but clicked instantly. 
One night, she invited him over for a study session since her parents were away on business. One thing lead to another and they ended up making out all night on the couch. 
They’ve been happy ever since. 
Returning back to the now, she tapped her pencil on her neatly written history notes, waiting for that slow clock to finally hit 11:33 so she could see her boyfriend. 
Sure, they weren’t the most popular guys in school, but she really loved hanging out with his group of friends and learning all about Dungeons & Dragons.
She drowned Mr. Smith’s voice discussing the Revolutionary War ages ago. The thought of cramming more information into her brain gave her a migraine.
As soon as the bell rang, she quickly put her notebook and folder into her backpack and went to her locker to switch her books around for the second half of the school day. 
She put her three-number combination into the lock and opened it, admiring the photos she had in her locker — most of her and Eddie, but others of her friends and family. 
It wasn’t long before she felt arms wrap around her waist only to quickly be turned around and lightly pressed up against the locker beside her. 
Her beautiful brown-eyed boy was wearing his famous Hellfire Club t-shirt and his favorite jean jacket and pants. 
“Hi, angel,” he said, giving you a sweet kiss. 
“Hi, how was math?” 
“Fucking boring, as usual,” he sighed, “But I’m with you now and that’s all that matters.” 
She chuckled, “You really need to pass that final, Eds, If you’re not walking down that aisle with me, it’ll be the end for you.” 
“Speaking of... could you come over tonight and help me prepare for this test? I know I would fucking fail without your genius mind.” 
“Of course,” she smiled.
— 
At the end of the day, she grabbed the books that she needed for the weekend and met Eddie at his van where she was greeted with a passionate kiss. 
“Well, isn’t someone happy to see me,” she kissed him once more before throwing her bag in the back. 
“Before we leave, I have a question to ask you.” 
Her eyebrows raised, “Is it bad?” 
“What? No! Of course, not,” he reassured her. 
He gave her a large envelope, which she opened quickly. 
“I was wondering... uh.. would you like to go to prom with me?”
She squealed when she saw the physical tickets for “Hawkins High School Prom 1986.” 
She instantly wrapped her arms around Eddie’s neck and jumped into his arms. 
“Yes, yes. Of course I’ll go to prom with you. Oh my God!!” 
She pressed kisses along his lips, then over his cheeks, and then all around his face. 
“I’m sorry it’s not a big ask like I’ve seen others do but,” 
She interrupted him, “Stop that. I love it and I love you. Thank you for doing this for me.” 
“I want to because I love seeing you so happy.” 
_
Prom night came so fast. 
Thank God Hawkins High canceled classes for the day. 
She was up and awake early in the morning to start getting ready. Eddie begged her to sleep over the night before but she didn’t want him to see her or her dress before the big night.  
Throughout the day, she was so busy: she had a hair and nail appointment as well as getting her makeup done by her best friend, Rachel. 
She saved the best for last, putting on her dress. 
After weeks of deciding between those two dresses - she finally found the perfect one. 
Her mother helped her into the baby blue dress and zipped up the back.
“The love of your life is downstairs,” her sister, Elizabeth, said, “And he looks incredible.” 
She put on her white heels and took her time to walk down the stairs - holding on to the railing for dear life so she didn’t fall. 
Eddie was facing away from her until he heard her movements.  
He took one look at her and fell in love with her all over again.
She felt the same, he looked so handsome wearing a suit. 
He raced to the bottom of the stairs to help her with the final few steps. 
“You look... wow. You look so beautiful,” he leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. 
Deep down, she knew that all he wanted to do was pick her up, twirl her around and kiss her all over. However, since they were in the company of her family, he kept it PG. 
After several pictures, Eddie finally got her out of the house and into his van.
While driving back to school, his hand intertwined with hers on her lap. He constantly told her how beautiful she was in her dress.
Sure, they’ve been going out for a while, but he’s never seen her so dressed up before — and vice versa. 
She couldn’t take her eyes off her man and how hot he looked while wearing something other than his normal attire.
As he abruptly parked the car as far away from the school as he could — can’t have those popular kids hitting his car. 
He ran over quickly to help her out of the car. 
As he was about to lead the way, she pulled his hand back to bring him up against her chest. She leaned up to quickly kiss his lips a few times. 
“I’m excited for tonight, and you really do look so handsome,” she kissed him once more before joining the other students making their way into the gym.
“I kinda only really wanna for a few songs tonight, then get outta here,” she said. 
“My God, you are the woman of my dreams,” he kissed her cheek and twirled her. 
Since none of Eddie’s friends “believed” in Prom, she saw her friends waving to her to go sit with him. 
“Wow, Eddie, nice to see you not in your typical uniform,” her friend, Rachel said — sort of joking. 
He turned around to give the table a full 360, “You all like?”
Hoots and hollers came from the table as she held her boyfriend close. 
“We’re gonna go dance.” 
“Behave, you two,” her other friend, Veronica stated. 
“Don’t we always?” she asked. 
“Never!” Veronica joked.
— 
What felt like forever, the band finally played a slow song. She was still out of breath from dancing. 
Eddie pulled her in by her waist and swayed back and forth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. 
Deep down, Eddie didn’t find prom as bad as he thought it was going to be. He had the girl of his dreams in his grasp and never wanted the moment to end.
Every now and then, she felt him place gentle kisses on her temple as he held her close — like he was afraid someone was going to take her away from him. 
This was the moment she was looking forward to since her freshman year – before she even knew Eddie. She wanted to slow dance with her first love while feeling safe in his arms. 
She lifted her head to look into his eyes.
“What do you say we get out of here?” she asked. 
“Honey, I’d never thought you’d ask,” he grabbed your hand and swerved through the crowd of people. 
The cool Indiana air hit them as they walked back to Eddie’s van hand in hand.
Luckily, prom wasn’t close to being over so they had a chance to leave before everyone else. 
He opened the door for her and quickly ran over to his side. 
“What do you wanna do now?” he asked. 
As he was speaking, she pulled her dress up so she could leap over into the drivers seat. 
“Woah, what,” he said, hands instantly grabbed her waist to balance her. 
His hand reached down to pull the seat all the way back and down for more space. 
She spent the next few moments attacking his mouth with kisses. 
“What’s all this about?” he asked. 
“You did something very nice for me tonight. You knew how much prom meant to me so you sucked it up and went along with it. Thank you, Eds.” 
“I love seeing my girl happy,” he smiled, reaching to pull her dress up so he could feel her ass. 
“My uncle isn’t home tonight, wanna get outta here?” 
“I don’t have a change of clothes,” she pouted. 
“Oh babe, you won’t need any clothes,” he smirked.
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sports-on-sundays · 7 months
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heyy girlyy, can i please request an enemies to lovers with pedri where the reader and him are notorious for fighting all the time and lowkey hating each other in school, but one day this boy and the reader get in a fight and he hits her and she comes out of a classroom crying with blood on her face and pedri sees her and asks her "who did this to you"🤭🤭 and is absolutely furious but she doesn't tell him who did it at first but then sees how mad he is so she tells him and he goes and beats the shit out of the boy who hit her, then the reader and pedri are in the nurses room together and she asks him why he did that and he confesses his feelings for her and how he was in love with her the whole time and she does the same and they kiss or something, yayy
a very detailed ask but i hope you don't mindd, anyways hope you're doing well, lot's of lovee 🫶💕
I hate you (not) / Pedri González
Summary: There is a very detailed summary in the ask haha! Pedri x female!reader. High school AU. Enemies to lovers trope ig.
Warnings: Blood, crying, censored swears
Requested?: Yes ma'am!
Author's Note: I love the detailed request girl! Thanks so much! I appreciate the support!
Pedri walks down the empty hallway slowly. He's tardy anyway, so why not just walk slow so he doesn't have to do any work when he gets to maths, right?
As he walks, he thinks. He thinks about the argument he had gotten in with you the day before. Maybe he had been a little harsh- saying that you were a terrible cheerleader and all the boys made fun of you in the locker room all the time? Yeah, that might have been kind of mean. You had flipped out, clearly hurt to hear this, yelling at Pedri and firing back at him about how he was a cocky idiot, and no one really liked him anyway- everyone was just pretending because they didn't want to hurt his feelings, but really they all gossiped about how much of an ass he was.
In truth, neither of these things were true at all. And in truth, both you and Pedri had believed what the other had said.
Then you had shoved Pedri, and he had smirked and teased you about how weak the shove was, before walking off.
Yeah, Pedri feels bad.
He's getting to class just as the bell is ringing. Students immediately start flooding out of the classroom, pushing themselves out of the door as if spending one more second in that room would suffocate them.
But then suddenly Pedri's jaw drops when you walk out of the classroom. You've got your hand over your mouth and nose, and there are tears streaming down your cheeks from your eyes, though you're clearly trying to be tough. You freeze when you meet the eyes of Pedri. Your eyes widen, and dread sets in deep within you. Oh God, no. The last thing I need right now is for Pedri to start taunting me about being a weak cryb-
Suddenly unexpected anger wells up within Pedri, and his jaw clenches. He doesn't even really know why- maybe it's because he still feels bad about what he said to you yesterday; maybe it has to do with the deep, honest feelings for you he has hidden down deep within himself. He snaps, "What the hell? Y/n, what happened? Are you okay? Who did this to you? Where's the teacher?!"
You continue to choke up, letting out only short breaths as you feel the blood trickle down the inside of your palm. You're in so much discomfort, you decide not even to worry about what kind of off motives Pedri has right now as you murmur, "The teacher was out of the room..."
As students awkwardly continue to file out of the room, Pedri asks again, "Who did this to you...?"
You glance around nervously, about to walk past him, but suddenly he grabs your arm. You look back at him in surprise. His concerned, angry brown eyes meet yours. His grasp on your arm is tough, but not enough to hurt. "Y/n... Tell me who did this to you."
"Pedri, I can't tell you..." you softly squeak, staring at his hand on your arm. "I don't want him to..." you hesitate, and let yourself trail off.
But he repeats with such seriousness, tenacity, and sincerity, "Y/n, it's alright... Just... Tell me who the hell did this..."
You swallow, and then say his name softly. It dawns on Pedri right away who the boy is, and he looks around in the thinning crowd. He spots the boy, and on impulse, so quickly so that you can't even stop him, suddenly he attacks the kid, knocking them to the ground. You stare in shock as the one minute they beat on each other feels like about one day. You're frozen as blood drips down to your chin.
"Why the hell would you hurt her? Do you see her? She's crying? Do you see how much blood there is? She's pale, you idiot! Don't you feel sorry! Say sorry! And if you tell anyone about this, you're going to be-"
You stare in awe when the boy on the ground shouts, gasping, "Okay, okay! I'm sorry! I won't tell anyone! Get off of me!"
Pedri hesitates, then slowly nods. You're leaning against the hall, slightly trembling. The moment Pedri pushes the boy away down the hall, commanding him with such fierceness to get back to class, he immediately turns to you. With no hesitation he uses the end of his shirt to wipe your blood a bit and murmurs, putting an arm around your back, "Hey... Let's go to the nurse's office. Okay?" He speaks with such gentleness and softness, you can hardly believe this is really Pedri. I didn't know he was even capable of speaking in a tone that sweet.
You walk along with him, feeling very confused. You get to the nurse's office- the whole walk you both just keep silent. Pedri explains to the nurse that you fell and cut your mouth and nose (which vaguely annoys you, because that makes it seem like instead of getting in a fight, you just fell over like a clumsy freak right on your f*cking face. But whatever.), and the nurse fixes up your mouth, covering the wound with some bandages. The whole time, Pedri stays. You watch as he slips a sweatshirt over his head that he had in his backpack- probably to cover the stain of your blood on his shirt. The nurse doesn't ask why Pedri stays, and neither do you, until you're all fixed up and walking out of the classroom alongside Pedri.
A few seconds pass by. You walk next to him, looking at the floor. The bandage above your mouth feels uncomfortable. But, you suppose, it's much better than the possible alternatives, which would be still spilling blood everywhere, or forming a huge ugly scab on your face. Pedri is also looking down, but his dark brows are knitted together, as though he's deep in thought. His hand brushes against yours as you walk, and suddenly he looks up. You look up, too. Your eyes meet his dark chocolate colored ones. He seems to hesitate. You swallow. "Pedri," you start softly. There's a question that has been in your head and bugging your heart ever since he met you outside the classroom. "Can I ask you a question?"
You watch his Adam's apple bob up, and then down again, when he swallows, before nodding. "Yeah."
"Why... Why did you do that?" you hesitate. "I thought you hated me..."
Pedri bites his lip, looking into your eyes. "I... I don't hate you. I've never hated you. The truth is, I like you. A lot. And I owe you an apology. A huge apology."
You stare in confusion and shock.
He rests his hand on your shoulder. Gives it a soft squeeze. "I'm sorry for hurting you all these times... I..." Pedri can't believe he's really doing this. All this time he's been masking his feelings, and all the sudden, now, it's all tumbling out.
He doesn't even know why. Right just seems like... the right time.
"Y/n, I've liked you for a long while now... And yeah, I mean the crush kind of like."
Pedri watches as your hand covers you mouth. "Pedri- then why..."
His jaw clenches. "Years ago when I started liking you I was too stupid to just admit it. So to mask it I was rude to you. Plus, it was fun to tease you sometimes... But I took it too far and... Yeah, here we are today, right now... I couldn't just randomly change my behavior, so I had no idea what to do. But Y/n, I really do..."
Suddenly your heart wells up, and your face heats up, and with no more thought put into it, you grab his hand tightly and squeak, "Pedri, I think I like you, too."
Now it's his turn to look shocked. "Really? Why? How? I've been so rude to you..."
I shrug. "I couldn't deny you're cute. I've always liked your personality. Sometimes I enjoyed your teasing. That's just why when we got in real arguments, it really broke me..."
He gently strokes your heating up cheek, your eyes lock. "Will you forgive me? Now that you know-"
You smile softly, enjoying the feeling of his touch on your cheek, and interrupt, "Of course I forgive you..."
His eyes shine. "This must be the best case scenario..."
You nod, and you notice his face slowly inching towards yours. You lean in, too, still eyes locked. Soon your faces are nearly touching, and Pedri whispers softly, "There's something I've been wanting to do for a while... Can..." He looks embarrassed, but you wait. "Can I kiss you?"
You swallow, hesitate, but then nod. And just like that, his head tilts, eyes close, and his soft lips gently press against yours. He cups the nape of your neck, and his other hand slips behind your back.
Suddenly you both jump though, pulling away from the lovely kiss when you hear the beginnings of the school bell.
Pedri waves, and says, "I'll meet you outside the front of school after classes!"
You stare, stunned, as you watch him walk away. You don't even care you've probably missed at least three class periods. You just gently press your fingers to the lips that Pedri just kissed, heart pounding and butterflies swarming.
My God. This is a dream come true.
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spidrstar · 11 months
Text
A LITTLE BIT MORE
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★ pairing: aged up!miles1610 x latina!reader
★ warnings: all characters in this story are 18!!! suggestive i think?
★ summary: Miles has been your math tutor for the past few months and you can’t lie, he’s been sort of your lil bestfriend too because you tell him all about your boy problems and everything. It got to a certain point where you were about to let something personal slip.. specifically how you didn’t know how to kiss. Miles may be a lil nerd n a tutor n all but he still gets play, so you asked him to show you how to kiss and it slowly turned into more than that.. a make out session.
★ w/c: 2k
★ a/n: ok so ik i put up a poll for y’all to choose but.. i rly wanted to write abt 1610 miles esp for this one shot 😣 sry yall i got yall w the next one shot tho trust🙏
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“Miles, please don’t make me do this problem on my own.. you know how I am with fractions.”
You groaned at just the sight of the problem and leaned back on your arms.
For context, you were currently in Miles’ room with three different text books sprawled out open on the floor. He’s been your math tutor for the past four months because you failed your last two math classes and couldn’t afford to fail one more because that would cause you to fail the grade. Today, you were both going over things that were going to be in your test at the end of the marking period.
You’ve been studying non-stop all week and grew tired of it (even though all you mostly did was get off topic and have endless conversations with Miles.)
“Y/n, c‘mon you can’t do this every time i’m tutoring you. Just try.” Miles smiled at your reaction to the math problems in the book.
“Can we please just take a small break?”
“..Y/n our last break was 5 minutes ago.”
“Exactly my point!! It’s been too long.”
He chuckled at you and had no choice but to give in. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy the silly conversations you both had. You both saw each other as.. you wouldn’t say therapists but more of a.. comfort friend? Just someone you could talk to freely basically. At this point you were practically each others best friend, you just hadn’t noticed it yet.
Miles always enjoyed your company, no matter what you both were doing as long as it was together. You rarely ever hung out together if it wasn’t involved with tutoring, but that wasn’t a bad thing. You would almost get tutored everyday because math just really wasn’t something you were good at..
“Soo.. what’s with you and that guy what was his name.. Ethan?”
“It’s Evan, and we fell out. I found him talking to two of my friends at the same time and I wasn't gonna stay around to see that unfold. I told them of course, just didn’t wanna be there to witness the outcome.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, Miles knew your situation with guys very very well. He knew almost all of the guys you messed around with, well.. weren’t the best. If he was honest, they sucked ass. They all seemed to go after you for one thing, your body. Miles always hated the idea of you talking to another guy, not in a weird or possessive way of course, he was just over protective of you. He always remembers the nights you would text him asking him if he was free just to cry in his arms.
Sometimes you would come in all moody to your study sessions too and for you that was off, because when you opened your mouth it never seemed to shut.
He palmed his face and sighed in disappointment of yet another shitty guy you messed with.
“I told you he seemed off. He was wayy too friendly for a guy that ‘only wanted to be with you’ I never trusted him and i’m proud to say i didn’t.” Miles quoted with his fingers.
You smiled and looked down at the floor deep in thought, “Yeah well, he was ugly anyways. Personality wise too, he never really made me laugh. When I did laugh around him I would laugh at him, not with him. Y’know?”
“Yeah, I would notice. Your laughs never seemed genuine around him.” He shrugged.
You smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what’s ‘genuine’ to you?”
Miles leaned in and placed his palms on his knees looking up at the ceiling thinking of what to say.
“Like.. it’s hard to explain. Around me, your laughs just have a higher pitch and you lose your breath much quicker and you make random sounds while laughing which is what gets me to laugh. Then, around him your laughs were like so motone and you didn’t really hold onto your stomach as if it hurt from laughing so much, you get me?”
You stared at him in disbelief from how much he went into detail, you never thought of how much he really paid attention to you. Your face was a little bright red, you were flustered because you just felt so.. special? The feeling was unknown.
“Wow.. that’s—that’s a lot. I get what you mean though, his jokes were never as funny as yours were. You don’t even have to try to make me laugh.” You smiled.
He smiled back and made a proud expression, you knew what was coming next. Miles always made this face when he was about to brag about something.
“Thank you, I get that a lot from girls. I always make sure to keep them entertained and never treat them like shit. I don’t understand how you manage to find guys like that, I would never do what they do. Pretty sure my ma would kill me.” He chuckled at the last sentence.
You rolled your eyes at the bragging, you knew Miles had game and had many many girls falling for him. I mean, who wouldn't fall for him? Look at him, he has a great personality, he's caring, a momma's boy which, by the way, is totally adorable and he’s just so sweet and genuine. His smile was contagious and he was attractive too of course..
You snapped back to reality, your mind wandering off somewhere else.
“Bet you got lots of bitches huh.” You choke out a laugh trying to ignore the thoughts lingering at the back of your head.
“Nah, it may seem that way but I honestly got my eye set on one girl. I’m not bout that ‘playa’ shit y’know? Gotta keep it real and let ‘em know that cause leading people on ain’t what i’m about.”
You looked at him intensely, really wondering who this girl was. Although you felt the urge to beg him to tell you because you knew how stubborn he was, you didn’t. You were scared you weren’t gonna like his answer so you brushed the feeling aside.
You wouldn’t admit it to anyone but yourself (barely) you had feelings for Miles, you weren’t aware of it until about a month ago when you went on countless dates. On every single one, Miles was in your head and you couldn’t seem to focus on the person in front of you.
“That’s surprising, if you’re not a player like you say you aren’t how do you treat your girls?” You quickly switched the topic and switched the rolls.
“Well, ion be messin’ around with other girls or on that friendly shit y’know? Every chance I get ima flaunt my girl like she’s the lottery.” He smiled proudly.
You scoffed in jealousy. “Wow, I wish there were more guys like you shit ONE like you at least.”
Miles blushed a bit at the way you said you wanted someone like him. He quickly recovered and perked a brow, scoffing with a proud expression.
“Yeah well, I'm one of one. Can’t find anyone like me.”
“I just can’t believe it, I haven’t even been with one guy who’s good enough to show me how to-“
You quickly saved yourself from the embarrassment and threw your hands over your mouth. Miles took notice of this and he raised a brow at you and moved slightly closer.
“Show you how to what?” He asked, smirking only slightly.
Heat rose to your cheeks, you covered your face and grumbled from already feeling embarrassed even though you hadn’t even told him yet. You hid yourself in your knees not wanting to face him.
“C’mon I promise I won't laugh!” He begged.
“Yes you will! I know you!”
“I swear on my pet hamster's life I won't.” He spoke seriously.
You looked up a bit, sighing and agreeing to say what was on your mind, you had always been ashamed of it because you never really kissed just anyone. You wanted it to be special, of course you’ve kissed a few but your old self thought they were special when they weren’t.
“F-Fine. I—I..don’t know how to kiss.” You whispered the last part lowly, too embarrassed to say it outloud.
“A lil louder than that Y/n, it’s just you and me here c’mon.” He sweetly smiled at you placing a hand on your back.
“I don’t know how to kiss.” You said bluntly, looking straight to avoid his striking gaze.
All that could be heard were stifled chuckles and you turned to stare at the culprit, Miles was cupping his mouth with both hands trying not to burst out laughing straight in your face. You smacked the back of his head and scolded him for swearing.
“Miles! You swore on your hamster's life!”
Laughter erupted from him and could be heard loudly throughout the room. Soon he calmed down and collected enough breath to speak.
“He died like a week ago, it's fine.”
“What?! And you didn’t tell me?? Tu si eres malo.”
“Whatever, back on topic. You don’t know how to kiss? How? You’re like, genuinely one of the prettiest girls I know.”
You blushed at both the comment and from embarrassment. You were 18 almost 19 and didn’t even know how to properly have a make out session, not that it was your fault. All the guys you messed with genuinely sucked, and your lips were far too precious for you to just place them on anyone.
“Hey! No es culpa mía, i bet you’re not even good at kissing either.” I huffed angrily.
“Actually, I'm quite known for being a great kisser para tu información.” He admitted proudly.
Then, an idea spiked up in your head. He was your best friend.. you think? Might as well take this perfect opportunity to ask him for a favor, a huge one. This had you nervous though, because it could go two ways. He would say yes and show you and you both would continue to live your lives as if nothing happened, as normal friends right? Or.. you would be embarrassed for the rest of it if he said no. How would you recover from that? Whatever.. might as well do it now and pray nothing bad happened.
“Miles?” You finally spoke, with a serious tone hiding behind your words.
“Yes?”
“Could you.. um—do me a favor?” You spoke shyly, a wave of nervousness was coming at you and strong.
“Depends. What is it?” He spoke more lowly now with curiosity, he subconsciously moved closer to you to hear you clearly. In case you’d decided to whisper again since that was a habit.
You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to become. This determined whether or not you would ever talk to him or see him the same, you seriously thought you wouldn’t be able to recover from this.
“Could you..maybe.. teach me?” You looked down at the floor again, biting the inner corner of the inside of your cheek. You were slightly sweating from how nervous you were.
A few seconds of silence passed before you looked up nervously. Many thoughts racing in your mind right now;
‘What if he was making fun of me in his head right now?’
‘What if he didn’t want to be friends with me anymore?’
‘What if he thought I was weird?’
‘What if he hates me now?’
Your thoughts were quickly put to a pause when he spoke up, you thought you were dreaming when you heard the words escape his mouth.
“Sure, I’ll teach you. But are you sure like, completely sure you wanna do this? I’m kinda rough with it, and i don’t know if you’d like it.” He spoke softly when looking at you.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, shutting your eyes and nodding. You smiled sweetly at him, your heart speeding up with a hint of excitement. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about kissing Miles at least once.
“Yes, I'm sure.” You stared at his eyes then his lips wide eyed, your eyes glistening with anticipation. Your lips were slightly parted as you oh so wanted to lean in and just kiss his pretty lips already, but you waited for him to instruct you on what to do.
He moved closer to you and sat in front of you staring at you with slightly hooded eyes. He smirked as he spoke and that’s all you seemed to notice.
“Alright, first you needa part your lips slightly which i see you’re already doing. Then, you just tilt your head to whichever side you prefer and lean in. Close your eyes obviously, then just follow my lead. Simple, you got it?”
You nodded once again, and blushed lightly as he leaned in closer. His hand made his way up and he gently placed it on the side of your neck and tilted his own head shutting his eyes to kiss you.
“Alright, here we go..” He whispered.
With that, he kissed you gently. His soft lips locked with yours, surprisingly you seemed to follow along quickly and placed one of your hands on his toned chest. Your breaths seemed to quicken with every second that passed and he started to lean in more, this time you were slightly pushed back. You held onto the front of his shirt pulling him down with you. Your forearms supporting your upper weight as you laid back on the floor.
Miles now completely on top of you deepened the kiss, his tongue softly grazed against your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you complied to. He placed his hand back on your neck, his fingers resting on the bottom part of your lower head pushing you against him more. You let a low moan slip past you and you opened your eyes wide, with shock but quickly closed them back up once you heard the sounds he made.
The ‘agressiveness’ he mentioned now showing as low growls escaped his lips when getting a few seconds to breathe between kisses. His tongue fighting with yours for dominance which he quickly claimed.
He broke the kiss, a string of saliva showcasing how intense the kiss was. He smirked against your lips and you both breathed heavily against each other, chests heaving up and down rapidly. He caressed the sides of your waist slipping one hand under the hem of your shirt and leaned in to seductively whisper in your ear.
“I think I'm gonna have to teach you a little bit more than just kissing, ma.” He smirked.
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★ translations: tu si eres malo - you’re so mean || no es culpa mía - it’s not my fault || para tu información - for your information ||
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