#even though i felt like i had such bad drop luck this year ;>__< but i was also busy with other things so
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meat-fr ¡ 5 days ago
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My notable hatches for NotN 2024
Pretty nice bunch this year! I feel like ontop of the double i hatched, i also got a bunch of near miss doubles as well.
also apparently i must like dusthides even more than i realized asdfgh whoops
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spatialwave ¡ 21 days ago
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stress relief.
➸ ask: “Heyy <33 | have a req for a jayvik fic, the reader has noticed they've been quite stressed lately and recommends a form of Relaxing they do (Basically just getting high) and convinces both Jayce and Viktor to take part in it.. Can be fluff or smut??” ➸ pairing: jayvik x fem!reader ➸ tags: mdni! drug use, nsfw, smut, pwp, poly sex, double penetration, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, jayvik established relationship, modern au, viktor wears a prosthetic leg, no use of y/n. ➸ word count: 6.3k ➸ a/n: i only realized when writing this, that i don’t have a ton of jayvik x reader fics like i thought i did! so, here’s to more!! hehe <3
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Your fingers moved skillfully over a typewriter, a vintage one, which you often pointed out to anyone who admired it. Did it often cause you more hassle than writing on your computer? Of course, it did, but the nostalgic sounds of clicking and the aesthetic had become a part of your routine, even if it meant struggling with it or groaning when you had to pull out the paper to correct your mistakes with whiteout and place it right where you left off. A tedious task for a small mistake, but one that you struggled with no less.
The sounds of your constant typing reminded Jayce and Viktor of your pursuit of passion, sharing your poetry and fiction works with the world. This was a creative field of work, as opposed to theirs, which left them strained and sore after a day’s work.
It’s not that they ever compared the two in terms of struggles, but you were able to indulge in a stress-free environment more often than they could. A luxury in their eyes, but all you had done was master the art of stress relief.
In the form of smoking so much weed that you were able to melt into the couch after a day of writing that left your brain foggy, or sometimes even smoking before work to resurge enough creative energy to finish a chapter. You were nearly done with your first fiction novel since graduation, and your roommates, Jayce and Viktor, were lagging behind in their own professional efforts.
You met them both in college; you were in your second year, and they were in their fourth year of mechanical engineering and far from being done with their post-secondary education. It was the luck of the draw, or so Jayce called it when you stumbled into them while hurrying between classes and accidentally knocking their first prosthetic arm prototype to the ground where the pieces scattered.
Never in your life had you ever felt so bad, quickly dropping to your knees and helping them gather the pieces of their hard work, apologizing every second while the two men told you it would be okay. Or, at least, Jayce was telling you it would be okay.
You still think fondly back on Viktor's look. His eyes narrowed as he stared at you, watching you and Jayce scramble to grab everything before the rush of students stampeded over them into non-existence.
It took one apology and a smile to win over Jayce’s heart and a few days of getting to know Viktor—and a few drinks—to win his. Though, you had been oblivious to the deeper feelings that blossomed in their heart.
Why would you think otherwise? They were the two in the relationship.
It was by your fourth year and their sixth that the three of you ended up in the same apartment together, the rent cheap enough split three ways that you’d all be fools to let the opportunity go to waste. You learned quickly that living with two men, let alone engineers and inventors, was going to be a lot. It took a few long months to get used to, but by the time you resigned your first year’s lease and you were freshly graduated, you could be blindfolded and walk over their disassembled creations without as much disturbing their work.
You were thankful that they were able to find a laboratory on campus, but it left your apartment quiet most days and well into the night. The sounds of their bickering had become the soundtrack to your life; instead, the sounds of your fingers against the typewriter echoed through the otherwise empty apartment.
The only other sounds were the distant television you hadn’t bothered to turn off and your senior cat's purring, which lay atop your bed. 
You hummed a quiet melody, a song that you couldn’t name that Jayce had been playing on his phone earlier that morning when he was cooking breakfast. Waking up just in time so you could sneak it and ask him to triple the servings for you and Viktor.
The rattling of the apartment door startled you from your daze, not having realized that you’d been staring at the same sentence over and over for the past five minutes. Your eyes flickered to your phone, a finger tapping the screen to check the time and only then realizing you’d been writing for the past four hours without a break. The moon was high in the sky, and the birds would be chirping in only a few more hours.
Slowly, you got up from your desk, arms stretched above your head and groaning as your stationary position caught up to you, leaving you sore and desperate for a smoke before the night got ahead of you.
“Jesus,” you said as you stepped out of your room, pulling down the sleeves of your sweater over your hands absently as you watched Jayce and Viktor kick off their shoes at the front door. They were so exhausted that they looked like they might fall asleep standing if they didn’t hurry. “This is the fourth night in a row; you guys are digging early graves at how little sleep you’re getting.”
“Maybe that’s why we’re doing it,” Viktor mumbled, struggling with removing the shoe from his prosthetic leg, which Jayce quickly dropped to his knees to help him with.”
“Don’t blame you, all that work and still no grant. Yikes.” You returned with a playful flicker in your eyes, smiling as Viktor rolled his eyes at you. Jayce frowned as he rose back to his feet. “Kidding, guys. It’s called a joke; don’t give me those looks.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the taller man mumbled, scratching at his stubbled jaw as he walked into the apartment, passing you and groaning as he b-lined for the living room so he could collapse onto the couch. Viktor was close behind, leaning on his cane as he walked, but you weren’t far behind.
“Bad day?” You asked sheepishly, regret forming a knot in your stomach when you noticed how stressed they were, both sitting on the couch.
“Bad week,” Viktor corrected as he leaned forward, rolling his pant leg up to reveal the well-worn prosthetic that needed an upgrade. They’d been so focused on their work that he hadn’t bothered to worry about his own needs, knowing that once this project ended, he’d be able to call the final prototype his own. A leg that would finally implant into his limb so he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of the ill-fitting prosthetics any longer.
You watched as he struggled for a minute, and before Jayce could offer, you were on the floor in front of him, hands already reaching for his leg. Carefully pulling the prosthetic down his thigh until it came clean off, he sighed in relief. This was a common routine that you helped with when Jayce was otherwise busy. Or falling asleep on the couch.
“Thanks,” he murmured, shifting as you put aside the leg carefully.
You returned to the armchair next to the couch, eyes looking between both men who had seen better days. The bags were so heavy beneath their eyes that you feared it would take days for them to finally catch up on their sleep—then an idea sparked.
“You two need a better nightly routine, something to help you decompress from the day instead of passing out in exhaustion the minute you get home,” you said, offering the opportunity for a suggestion.
Jayce glanced at you, raising a curious eyebrow. Viktor was the first to speak, “That doesn’t sound like a healthy habit to you? What a shame. I thought we were the epitome of self-care.”
“Let her speak,” Jayce nudged him with an elbow, eventually leaning against his boyfriend until his face was nearly buried against his neck. “You have anything in mind? I’ll be honest. Sleep sounds like the only good idea.”
“Smoke with me.”
Jayce perked up, peering out from the comfort of Viktor’s warmth as he stared at you with uncertainty, “Like… weed? I don’t know. I haven’t done that since I was a freshman, and let me tell you, it wasn’t a good experience.”
“No one told you to smoke that much, Jayce,” Viktor chided, having been there to witness it firsthand. His amber eyes flickered to you, shining in interest, “I suppose it doesn’t sound like a horrible idea.”
“Because it’s a great idea.” You beamed, sitting up and leaning forward to pet your cat that had made her way into the living room, taking her rounds to each person to receive her nightly pets before nestling away on her cat tree.
Viktor glanced at Jayce, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, love.”
You watched as the two of them spoke softly to each other, a small smile on your lips at the affection they carried for each other. Even on their worst days, they loved each other with all they had. You hoped for a love like theirs someday.
“Fine,” Jayce huffed, pulling away from Viktor and running a quick hand over his face, “At this point, I’ll do anything to get my mind off of work. I think I’m going crazy,” he snorted a weak laugh, eyes flickering over to as you bounced up from your chair and hurried off to your room to roll.
You returned just as Viktor pulled a sweater over his thin frame, hanging over the sleep shorts he now wore. Jayce had just slipped into some sweats after his quick trip to their bedroom to rid themselves of their day clothes. Two sets of eyes watched as you sat back down, a joint held between your fingers that you showed off like a prized possession.
“Ta-da!” You exclaimed, “As simple as a few puffs, all your worries will melt away. It’s old reliable for me, especially after a long day. Makes for the best sleep of your life.”
Viktor was watching you carefully as you spoke, unsure if it was the exhaustion or lingering feelings that left him admiring you. His hand on Jayce’s thigh dug into the cotton fabric of his sweats, going unnoticed because Jayce was staring at you with the same look. Admiration, awe—affection.
Glancing around, your eyes landed on the balcony where you often spent your evenings with a joint and your cellphone, doom scrolling through social media until you were ready to sleep. You crinkled your nose, looking at the boys, “We need to go outside, or else the apartment will smell like—”
“I don’t care,” Viktor said, gaze flickering to Jayce, “do you care?”
Jayce didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes focused on the joint in your hand, and he was more than ready to say fuck it and let things go how they needed to go.
“No complaining tomorrow when we have to air out the apartment,” you smiled. You’d never been able to smoke in the comfort of your own home before, so this was a treat. Even better than you had been able to wrangle your favourite boys into the mix, too.
Once lit, the joint was passed around the circle three times. Viktor handled it well, having been an off-and-on cigarette smoker throughout the years, usually when his stress levels peaked. Now, it was only when he had enough alcohol in his system. Jayce coughed up a lung each time, and it was the most endearing thing you’d ever witnessed. 
Even if it was rather unpleasant for him at first.
You finished the rest, an experienced smoker, so it was almost like nothing to you. The lingering effects of the high made you sink into the armchair, but not before you grabbed everyone some emergency water and snacks, if you could even stay awake.
Fifteen minutes passed, and everyone’s attention was focused on the TV as the shared high began to climb. Viktor was feeling great. His mind was emptied, and the usual pain in his leg after a day of wearing the prosthetic was gone, leaving his body relaxed and eager to sleep long enough to hit double digits.
You glanced at Jayce, seeing the way he sunk into the couch, legs spread wide apart and a lopsided smile on his lips as he watched the trashy reality show play out. You were almost certain you’d never seen them look so damned relaxed, at least since you lived with them.
Jayce caught your stare, head tilting slowly until his gaze met yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat for a brief moment. It had been a long time since you shared a high with anyone, let alone your best friends, so the emotions and feelings coursing through you were new. You couldn’t ignore his half-lidded eyes, staring even as he made room between him and Viktor.
“You look lonely,” Jayce said, a chuckle erupting from his throat, “Come on. When’s the last time you cuddled with us?”
Viktor sighed heavily through his nose, everything around him feeling slow as he watched you slink over hesitantly. He looked at Jayce, smiling, “You say that so confidently; you know she never has before.”
You plopped down on the couch between them, and immediately, your senses were filled in the best way possible. Jayce’s body to your left warmed your body, and you could smell the faint cologne that Viktor used every morning. The scent lingered on his skin.
“That’s not true,” you hummed, looking to the television as you crossed your legs and relaxed back, “Last year when we went to that gala for the university, I got hammered, and somehow I woke up sandwiched between you two in my bed.”
Jayce laughed, a loud laugh that hadn’t warranted that reaction from your words, but everything was funny to him. He could get used to the feeling.
“Ah, right,” Viktor looked at you, smirking, “That was Jayce’s doing, just so you know. He was worried you would get sick, so he wanted to stay with you and begged me to stay.”
“I didn’t beg,” he said through his laughter, “You gave in very easily and enjoyed it. Don’t lie.”
“I did not,” Viktor argued, pale cheeks turning a soft pink. You looked between the two of them as they bickered, a big smile on your face. However, the implications of their words settled into your stomach, and you forced yourself to look back to the TV before you could let your mind wander where it didn’t need to.
There was no need to let yourself build up a desire, knowing very well that it wouldn’t come true.
“Yeah, you did,” Jayce turned to face you both better, easily throwing his right leg over both of your laps, and you were quick to rest a hand over the clothed limb. The touch sent a shiver up his spine and a heat in the pit of his stomach that he hadn’t expected, and he hoped you hadn’t noticed because Viktor certainly had.
“Hardly,” Viktor hummed, unable to feel an ounce of annoyance when his heart began pounding in his chest when he saw how Jayce reacted to your touch. How those hazel eyes were glued to your face, and all of the discussions they’ve shared in the past about you came to the surface.
“Stop arguing,” you whined, pointing to the television, “You are missing the best part of the show. They’re about to answer the ultimatums, and let me tell you that whatever you had in mind is never what happens.”
You were received by silence, and you quickly looked between the two men again, blinking a few times in quick succession as you saw the way they both stared at you. You felt a chill crawl up your spine and absently dug your fingers into the fabric covering Jayce’s leg. Sinking back into the couch, you attempted to force yourself to relax and not overthink it, but it was hard when you could see them sharing looks.
“You know, when you get high, you usually just laugh at crappy television and snack on whatever you have until you fall asleep,” you mumbled, your cheeks burning.
“Mmh,” Viktor hummed, “Where are our manners?” He teased, and his voice sent goosebumps along your skin. He nestled himself against you as he spoke, his cheek resting on your shoulder as he focused on the television. Meanwhile, Jayce leaned back against the nook between the arm and the back of the sofa, his arm extending behind you as his fingers ‘absently’ played with the ends of your hair.
You were on high alert, which was surprising for how much you smoked, but you could sense something was happening. You were just trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t what you were imagining in your head, but the way Jayce brushed his fingers through your hair and how Viktor’s left hand rested over your bare thigh left you wondering if you were dreaming again.
Viktor’s fingers brushed between your thighs, a daring touch that reminded you that this was no dream, and in this reality, the two men were certainly coming onto you.
A laugh bubbled up from you, one that you weren’t able to hold down. Your hands flew to your face, which had begun to burn a bright red, and you avoided their curious looks.
“You guys are being horribly obvious. I hope you know that.” You mumbled behind your hands, refusing to move them.
Viktor chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, “Or maybe it takes you being high to finally notice.”
You turned your head to look at Viktor between parted fingers, “What do you mean by that?”
Jayce spoke up from the other side of you, smiling rather shyly as you looked over at him, “You’re… pretty clueless, you know that? It’s cute.”
You swore you could hear your heart slamming against your ribs, the feeling overwhelming as you stared up at Jayce and felt your stomach twist in uncomfortable knots. Your eyes flickered back to Viktor, noting the confident smile on his lips as he reached out and tucked some of your hair behind your ear.
“How does it make you feel?” Viktor asked quietly, his reddened eyes scanning your face, “Knowing how we feel about you.”
“Well,” you murmured, licking your lips as you inhaled a shaky breath, “I suppose I don’t exactly know how you feel about me… it’s difficult to answer without knowing.”
Jayce shifted beside you, his leg moving from your laps so he could instead guide you until you were rested back against his chest, his body still turned completely towards you and Viktor. You nestled back into him, sighing at how his body felt so nice and warm like it was enveloping you.
Meanwhile, Viktor shifted and leaned towards you, smiling as he nuzzled himself into you and pulled his leg onto the couch that perfectly fit you three. He buried his face against your clothed chest, peering up just enough to meet your gaze.
“Would you like us to show you?” he asked his eager hand dipping beneath your sweater, thin fingers brushing against the skin of your stomach. You didn’t care if the weed was allowing them to better act on their instincts. All you knew was that the four hands beginning to grasp at your body was enough to make you say—
“God, yes,” you breathed, the sound catching in your throat.
Jayce was quick to act on your consent. From behind his lips attached to the side of your neck, he left gentle kisses that earned you a shiver. Meanwhile, Viktor leaned himself between your spread legs. His eyes were half-lidded and glossy as he stared at you with a knowing smile.
You didn’t have time to question him for staring because he swallowed the words on the tip of your tongue as he pressed your lips together in a bruising kiss. Your lips parted with a gasp, and he took advantage of the opening, his tongue delving into your mouth and tasting the red licorice flavour from the sweets you had indulged. He moaned into your mouth, hands on your hips underneath your sweater and grasping over your flesh, rougher touches compared to the fluttering kisses from the man behind you.
The stubble on Jayce’s jaw tickled your skin as he nibbled on the shell of your ear, his heavy breaths cascading your neck with warmth.
“How excited are you?” He whispered into your ear, a squeak muffling into Viktor’s eager mouth as a hand slipped between your bodies and pushed into your shorts. Thick fingers pushed past the fabric of your panties, easily spreading through your wet folds. “Fuck,” Jayce huffed, swallowing thickly as he circled your needy clit with short circles.
“I told you she’d like it,” Viktor mumbled against you, pulling back as a string of saliva connected your lips. He grinned, lifting a hand and brushing his thumb against your swollen bottom lip, “You like it, don’t you?”
Your body was on fire, Jayce’s fingers toying with your cunt, earning a few whimpers that you tried to muffle, but to no avail. Half-lidded eyes stared at Viktor as you nodded, watching as he leaned back and looked down between your legs underneath the fabric. He could see his boyfriend’s fingers working through your folds, the slick sound loud enough to reach his ears.
Nimble fingers grabbed at your shorts and underwear, yanking them down your thighs until they slipped past your ankles and were discarded to the floor.
Viktor’s eyes sparkled as he watched, licking his lips as Jayce used two fingers to spread you open.
“She’s dripping,” Jayce murmured, the sound of his voice easing your nerves as you relaxed against him, fingers grabbing at his thighs. You closed your eyes, unable to look at Viktor in your flustered state.
“I can see that,” Viktor purred, his fingers toying at your entrance that Jayce had opened for him. You whined as he pushed in a finger, a second one joining much too easily, “So good. Taking my fingers so easily. I bet you’ve dreamt of this, haven’t you?”
Your back arched at his touch, Jayce’s index finger returning to your clit, a ministration that made your hips shake in tandem with Viktor’s fingers thrusting in and out of you. Your mind was hazy, and you couldn’t think straight, eyes fluttering as you fucked yourself along his two fingers that pumped so deep you were beginning to babble out their names incoherently. 
Viktor curved his fingers, pushing on the fleshy pad of muscle inside your pussy that coaxed out a strangled cry from your lips. He didn’t relent, the two men wanting to hear more from you as they worked together. They couldn’t concentrate on anything, fixated on the way your cunt tightened around Viktor’s fingers and how your nails dug into Jayce’s thighs as your climax neared.
“Fuck,” you whimpered, a gasp escaping between parted lips. You attempted to push your thighs together, but Jayce was quick and held your thighs apart.
“Be a good girl,” he breathed into your ear.
Viktor’s free hand moved so he could rub quick circles over your swollen clit, fingers still pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace. Your eyes cracked open, hips twitching violently as heat spread down your thighs and up your abdomen. You locked a gaze with Viktor, and your heart lept into your throat at the way he stared at you—animalistic. Hungry.
“Come for me,” he whispered, fingers curling as he did his best to bring you to your release.
It worked well, especially with Jayce’s lips pressing heady open-mouthed kisses to your neck, hands grabbing at your thighs and keeping you nicely spread.
“Oh my god,” you cried, thighs tensing and toes curling as your orgasm hit you hard. You clenched impossibly tight around Viktor’s fingers, hips stuttering as heavy breaths and moans fell from your lips. Viktor kept fucking you with his fingers, a slower pace to meet with your release until you were spent.
Your hands moved to your face, covering your cheeks that were red from embarrassment. You were still twitching, sensitive from their synchronized touches, and you didn’t dare look at either of them.
Jayce smiled, pressing a chaste kiss at your temple, “That was so hot.”
Viktor chuckled, fingers leaving your cunt, and you whined at the emptiness. He noted the reaction, his gut hot and cock twitching under his shorts.
“Show us your pretty face,” he chided you, voice soft as he grabbed at your wrists. He tugged your hands away from your face, smiling at the way you pouted at him, “Since when are you shy?”
“Since my roommates in a relationship decided they’d rather fuck me instead of sleeping,” you mumbled, shifting and feeling a familiar hardness on your lower back. Jayce grunted, his tanned cheeks red as he twitched, the slight friction on his erection making him eager to make your statement come true.
“We haven’t fucked you yet, though,” Viktor hummed, smirking as he lifted his fingers to his mouth, wet with your juices. He licked them clean and sighed, “Do you want us to?”
You answered quickly, a prominent yes. Within minutes, the three of you had made it to their bedroom, rather clumsy in your efforts. Your back fell against the bedsheets that had been tucked into the mattress so neatly, and your clothes were ripped from your body almost instantaneously.
Viktor was leaning back against the pillows, centred almost perfectly in the middle of the bed, and you were on your knees in front of him. Eyes heavy as you tugged down his shorts and briefs while he tossed his sweaters aside. Jayce settled behind you, also on his knees, and he towered over your smaller frame.
Golden eyes watched you both in awe as you felt Jayce’s bare muscled chest pressed against your back and his cock pushing between your thighs—grazing against your still-wet cunt. You could feel how big he was, and as you stared down at Viktor, you noted his, too.
You didn’t want to think about it, wondering how you would take them. You weren’t much of a go-getter in terms of sex, usually relying on your toys late at night when you needed some relief.
“You’re nervous,” Jayce murmured, calloused hands running up and down your sides. They settled over your breasts, feeling the heaviness of them in his hands as he pinched at your nipples until you gasped. 
“A little,” you answered quietly, swallowing down the nervous lump in your throat. You leaned to the side enough that you could tilt your head and meet Jayce’s eyes from behind you. His eyes carried a gentle look, different than the fiery gaze from Viktor.
Jayce smiled, ducking his head closer until his lips brushed against yours, “Don’t be. There’s no reason.”
Your eyes fell closed as you eagerly accepted his kiss, whimpering into his mouth as he tasted you carefully. His tongue pushed past your lips, and you opened yours, tongues dancing together effortlessly. He moaned into you, arms wrapping over your waist as you shared a passionate kiss with a bit too much tongue, but gods, you didn’t care.
Especially when you knew Viktor was staring, leaning back and smirking. Cock twitching and pre-cum beading along the tip as he began to stroke himself.
“You’re so beautiful,” Jayce whispered, pulling from your lips and staring into your eyes as your stomach twisted. You hadn’t heard that in a while. “I want to fuck that pretty face of yours.”
And they both did.
Both of them leaned back against the headboard, eyes fluttering as you sucked them both off. Working your mouth along their cocks one at a time, your hand stroking the one your throat neglected.
“Ah,” Viktor whimpered, a hand tight in your hair as he guided you along his cock, amber eyes heavy as you looked up at him, “Fuck, you’re good at this.”
The praises kept you going; it was like a rush of confidence. You took them both deeper than you thought was possible, their cocks fucking your throat until you had to pull back, gasping for air. You could feel how close they both were, and when Jayce roughly tugged your hair back with a growl deep from his chest, you knew you were good enough to be fucked by them. 
Finally.
What you hadn’t expected was how.
The three of you were on the bed, with you sandwiched between them and your back pressed against Jayce’s chest. You looked up at Viktor, your leg hooked around his hips and breathing heavily, unsure where this was going but knowing that you’d do anything. You’d take anything; you needed them.
As Jayce kissed over your bare shoulders, Viktor moved closer, hand at the base of his cock so he could direct it to your entrance. You whined when the tip pushed inside, teasing. 
“Viktor,” you breathed, your hands reaching out to grab at his waist so you could tug him closer, “fuck me. I need you, please.”
He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest, “Mmh, you’ve been so good. How could I say no to that pretty face of yours?” He murmured, closing the distance between your lips so he could pull you into a searing kiss. 
He pushed inside you with one quick thrust, reaching the hilt as you choked on your breath, the sound captured by his lips. “Ah, fuck,” you croaked, your cunt stretching from his length. You whimpered into his mouth, licking inside until your tongues slid together, and he gave you time to adjust to his size.
Jayce reached around you, the familiar feeling of his finger on your clit easing you. The pain of being stretched, a remnant of the past, as you pulled from Viktor’s lips, “Keep going.”
He obeyed quickly, panting as he shifted so he could fuck you, pulling out half-way and pushing back in. Careful movements until he knew you could take it, quickening to a hard pace that had you moaning out his name.
You reached back behind you, looking over your shoulder at Jayce as your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him. You thumbed at the tip, the pre-cum coating his cock as you pumped him in repetition with Viktor’s thrusts. He huffed at the feeling, his forehead pressed against your shoulder blade as the heat in his abdomen tightened.
“Your pussy feels so good,” Viktor’s voice pulled you down from the clouds, a quiet mewl bubbling up from your throat at the praise, “You’re being so good. Taking me so good… can you take us both?”
Both you and Jayce stilled, tensing at the prospect. Jayce’s cock twitched in your hand, and you stared at Viktor wide-eyed, heart slamming against your chest. 
“Both?” You whispered, thankful when Viktor slowed his movements, “I… I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You don’t have to,” Jayce murmured into your ear, his breath heavy from your hand that had nearly stroked him to completion, “It’s okay if it’s a no.”
Viktor hummed in agreement, leaning forward and ducking to press his lips against your jaw, gentle kisses. You closed your eyes, lips parting as quiet sounds of pleasure came from you. The idea of it made your cunt clench around Viktor’s cock, both of them inside you at once.
Stretched impossibly thin. 
“Yes,” you whispered, eyes fluttering open to look into Viktor’s gold orbs, “I want you both. Fuck, I think I need it.”
Jayce grinned against your ear, your hand eagerly guiding his cock to your already-filled entrance. “Easy now, love.” He said, the pet name making your heart flutter, “One step at a time. I don’t want to hurt you.
Viktor began to slowly push himself in and out of you, slow movements so pleasure filled your senses before you’d be stretched beyond your comfort levels. You squirmed when you felt Jayce’s cock prod at your entrance.
“Let me fuck her,” Jayce mumbled, talking to Viktor, who reluctantly pulled himself out. Your cunt was empty for all of a second before another cock pushed inside you. Stretching you more than Viktor had, but not as long. Gods, you had no idea how you’d make this work.
You leaned forward against Viktor, whimpering as Jayce’s hand grabbed at your hip, digging into your flesh as he fucked you enough to wet his cock.
“You ready? Viktor asked you, his hand caressing your cheek so you were forced to look into his eyes. You nodded, your stomach twisting.
Your eyes closed, and you did your best to relax your body. Your body leaned back against Jayce now as Viktor had to shift his body and position himself until his cock was pushing at your entrance, unsure if this would work.
Then you cried out loudly, choking on a strangled gasp when the head of his cock pushed inside, and your cunt stretched wide to fit him. Jayce was quick to act on your pain, a finger on your clit and lips at your ear, kissing and whispering soft praises in your ear. Anything to calm you, and it worked.
“Shit,” Viktor hissed under his breath, his gaze focused down between your legs, watching as his cock penetrated you and joined Jayce’s inside your tight cunt. You were so wet that it was easy to slide right in, but he was careful and slow, eyes glancing at your face every so often to gauge your reactions.
You clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and only realized you had been holding your breath until you felt him fit inside you fully. Your eyes fluttered open, looking at Viktor with eyes full of unshed tears.
“Fuck me,” you whimpered, nearly begging. The fullness between your legs was more than you could imagine, but the pleasure was beginning to outweigh the discomfort. 
Viktor dove forward, his lips crashing to yours as Jayce moved first. He pulled his hips back, his cock moving out of you slowly and rubbing against Viktor’s, a whine from your lips swallowed down by Viktor’s tongue. As Jayce pushed back in, Viktor pulled out—an electric rhythm that made your head spin.
Both men groaned, breathing heavily as they fucked you slowly. Jayce’s forehead, sticky with sweat, was pressed against the nape of your neck as he focused on his movements. His cock twitched inside you with each forward press of his hips, the sensation of your tight cunt swallowing him while rubbing along Viktor’s had his release close to the edge already. 
None of you could speak, the sounds of their slick cocks fucking you in languid movements loud in your ears. Heavy breaths, deep grumbles in their chests, and names rolling from your tongue through pleasured mewls. 
Your hips met their rhythms, and not once was your pussy empty. Stretched so deliciously far that you felt your juices dripping down your thighs and wetting the bedsheets beneath your hips.
“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer,” Jayce broke through the silence you shared, his voice shaky as his teeth dragged along your shoulder and focused hard on keeping his release at bay. His finger over your clit had only helped in pushing you further toward your orgasm, fleshy walls clenching tight around the two cocks that took their turns filling you.
“Me neither,” Viktor pulled from your lips, a moan catching in his throat as he stuttered his hips forward, “God—fuck.”
He was the first to fall over the edge, gasping as he buried his face forward against your neck, kissing you as he spilled inside. Jayce was right behind, unable to keep himself from pushing into you, so both cocks stretched you, hot cum sputtering inside you and leaking out as you milked both men dry.
Only a few more tight circles on your clit sent you over, hips twitching and causing both men to groan at the overwhelming feeling of you fucking yourself on their cocks as you rode out your climax. Electricity shooting through your body, loud cries of pleasure falling from your tongue until you were limp and whimpering, shifting so they could both pull out from you.
Once it emptied, you could finally breathe, your body able to relax from the limits you had pushed yourself to. 
“You did so well,” Viktor breathed against your neck, hardly able to speak. His mind was swirling, the weed and exhaustion only dizzying him further as he groaned, “Fuck, I’ve never felt better.”
Jayce hummed in acknowledgement, letting out a heavy sigh as he rolled onto his back and ran a hand through his hair. He wore a lopsided grin as he tugged you towards him so you were tucked forward against his side and Viktor followed, clinging to you from behind and burying his face in your hair.
“Maybe we’ll do that again sometime,” he eventually spoke, slurring slightly from the tiredness that had begun to consume him. 
“Might have to give me a few business days to recover,” you murmured, your face nuzzled against his chest as the three of you lay atop the sheets. Much too tired to even bother pulling the sheets above your bodies.
Viktor chuckled, inhaling your scent deeply as his fingers traced patterns along your stomach absently, “Maybe I will buy you a strap. You can join me in fucking Jayce one of these days.”
“I don’t know about that,” Jayce argued, half-asleep.
“You get used to it.” You giggled, eyes closed as sleep began to win you over.
You sighed quietly, the sounds of both men snoring softly as they fell into deep slumbers after a week of overworking themselves. Your heart was so full of love as they held you close—it was addicting. Jayce and Viktor were addicting. Whatever this was blossoming into was a dangerous game, but you knew you could trust them with your heart.
Your favourite boys.
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reareaotaku ¡ 8 months ago
Text
Superboy vs Robin
Summary: The life of 3 best friends that get confused when realizing they have a crush on their other friend, Y/n Prince, daughter of Wonder Woman Pairings: Jon Kent x Fem! Reader, Damian Wayne x Fem! Reader Tw: Love V [NOT TRIANGLE!!! IT'S A 'V'], Slow Burn? Taglist: N/a
Pt II: Love in High Places | Pt III: Apple of My Eye
[This probably would have been better to write as a multi-part story instead of a one-shot, so I can really get the slow burn and such... Might make a part 2 if yall like this? Also hope this isn't bad because I've been wanting to write this for over a year....]
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You had met the two boys when in the league's spaceship. Your mother was on business and sent you off to do, as she put it 'Children things', before taking off with Batman and Green Lattern. You rolled your eyes at her dismissal, but decided to find something else to do. Besides, hero work was boring anway. Nothing interesting about discussing rules and such anyway.
You walked around the large spaceship, before coming across a particular room. In the room where two kids, boys, around your age you didn't recognize. One of the boys, the one in darker clothes, must have felt your presence, because the second you stepped in he turned around.
Damian knew who you were. He knew who everyone was. He would look like a real fool if he didn't know the daughter of Wonder-woman. Too bad the same couldn't be said for Jon.
You awkwardly stand at the door way, now having both the boys' attention on you. You awkwardly wave, "Hey."
Jon's face lights up and he rushes to you. He loved meeting new people and you were nothing short of pretty. "Hi!" He grabs your hand, engulfing it with his own. "I'm Jon, Jon Kent."
"Y/n Prince." You tried to keep up with his handshake, but he was fast and strong, and by the time you could gather what was going on he had already let your hand go.
You looked past Jon back at the emo boy, but he was just staring at you. Jon looked over to see what you were looking at, before gesturing towards his friend.
"Oh, that's Damian. Don't mind him. He's.... Shy."
"I'm not shy. I just don't have any reason to speak to her."
Jon gasps, before glaring at his friend, "That's rude, Damian." He turns back to you, his face flushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry about him. He's not good with people."
You nod, still staring at Damian. "He's Batman's kid, right? The son of those assassins?"
Damian's eyes widen, but only for a brief second. He could let such an emotion out.
"My mother mentioned it a while ago. She didn't say much, just that you were... Different."
"Yeah, he is different." Jon jokes, causing you both to chuckle, but Damian just rolls his eyes.
---
You and Jon stuck your faces to the fish tank. Neither of you had ever seen a fish tank before. You were both stuck in the house by your parents in fear of you revealing yourselves on accident. Your parents have isolated you both- Even Damian was isolated, but he wasn't as naive and foolish as you and Jon.
"Oh, that one's purple," You point to a triangle-shaped fish.
"No, it's a dark blue," Jon argues, causing you to side-eye him.
You rolled your eyes, but don't respond.
"Hey, Y/n."
"Yeah, Jon?"
He looks over at you, wide eyed and excited, "You ever been Tire-rolling?"
"Tire-rolling?"
---
"I don't know if this is a good idea, Jon-" You try and reason, as your hands grip the tire's rubber.
He smiles, his hands gripping the tire, "Oh, it'll be fun. Promise!" He then pushes you, but instead of pushing you at a normal strength, he accidentally uses his super strength and sends you flying. His eyes widen as his mouth drops, before he runs after you, hoping you don't get hurt.
You scream as the tire jumps and hits multiple things while going faster than you've ever gone before. You grip the inside of the tire so hard, that you can feel your nails digging into your palm. You hear cars honking, but there's nothing you can do, without using your powers.
Though, luck must have been on your side, because while you're mid way in the air, something goes through the tire and harshly pulls you down. Your face slams into the tire, your hands ripping the tire's rubber. The tire falls flat on the ground and you sit up, rubbing your head.
Above you was the one and only, Damian Wayne. He was in his school uniform and he was looking down at you annoyed. In his hand was a grappling hook, which you assume he used to save you.
You quickly stand up, brushing off your clothes, "Uh, thanks."
Before Damian can respond, like he would, you hear Jon calling out to you.
"Y/n! Oh my god, Y/n! Are you okay?" He's nearly out of breath as he runs up to you before he stops. "Oh. Uh, hi Damian."
There's a moment of awkward silence, before Jon goes back to his normal self.
"What are you doing, Damian?"
"Nothing." Damian is quick, calculated even.
You had only known the two boys for a few months, but it felt like you had known Jon your whole life and this moment felt like the first time meeting Damian. Though, Damian was busy, so you couldn't really blame him. He was the son of a man with an empire and an assassination group. He was bound to be tied up from time to time.
"Uh, do you want to hang out, Damian?"
Damian is taken by surprise. You wanted to hang out? With him? Why?
Jon went to speak for Damian, but Damian interrupts him, "Sure."
"Really?" Both you and Jon speak at the same time, before you both blush out of embarrassment.
"I mean, great. Wow, okay. Yeah, let's hang out."
---
Damian groaned, before laying down on the roof. He could hear Jon and Y/n snickering to themselves, probably over something stupid. He closes his eye, their voices slowly fading from his mind. He didn't know how you had convinced him to hang out with you on a roof in the middle night.
He didn't like you, so he didn't know why he listened to you. He had no reason to care about what you said or thought, but yet here he was.
You had some kind of pull over him and he didn't know why. There was nothing about you that was different from the other superheroes. Sure, you were pretty, but so was Starfire, Raven, Super-woman, etc.
He looks over at you as you lean on Jon's shoulder, whispering some secret into his ear. He wondered what secrets you two were sharing. Maybe if he asked you'd let him in? He didn't know.
He takes his eyes off of you and looks back at the sky. It was a dark and cloudy night, like most nights in Gotham. Though, unlike most nights, it was quiet; Almost peaceful.
It bothered Damian. More than he'd like to admit. He felt an ich in his skin, like he was supposed to be doing something, but there was nothing to do. There was no fight to fight or crime to solve. It was peaceful for the first time in a long time.
---
Jon liked you, a lot. Like more than he's ever liked someone in his life. He feels immense emotions when he's around you, even if your mother doesn't like him. Though, your mother didn't like men period.
He was thankfully you didn't receive that quality from your mother. You were much nicer and happier than your mother. But that could be because you weren't tortured in the same way your mother was by the women of Themyscira.
In fact, they adored you. They treated you like some kind of goddess and cherished you. Jon understood though. You were perfect- At least to him you were. He thought everyone should treat you like the perfect person you are because you deserve nothing less.
---
You were alone with Damian for the first time in all the years you've known each other. You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn't know how you were going to tell them you were going to be leaving for Themyscira.
Your mother wanted you to be trained by the Amazons to be able to control your powers and abilities. While she herself was banished, she knew they would welcome you with welcome arms.
You knew Jon would take it hard, but it was only going to be for a year. Just a year. A year you'd be away from your best friends. So, there was a part of you that hoped if you told Damian first, it'd be easier to break it to Jon.
"So, when do you leave?"
You looked over at Damian, confused, "Leave?"
"I heard your mother talking to my father. She said she was sending you to Themyscira to train. So," He sits up on his bed, making direct eye contact with you, "when do you leave?"
"Next month. I'll be gone for a year."
"A year?"
"Yeah. My mom wanted me to stay for 3, but I was able to talk her down from it."
"Have you told Jon?"
"No..."
"Well, you know he's not going to react well."
"Yeah. That's why I've been procrastinating it."
"Can I write you?"
You frown, "No. The island is cut off from the world. So, no contact at all. Not even with my mom."
He now frowns, but says nothing more.
---
You sigh, leaning on your hand, your sword tossed on the ground. Before you stood Philippus, your mentor.
"Princess Y/n, what is bothering you so?"
You couldn't tell her you missed your friends. If she knew they were boys you knew you would get scolded. The Amazons didn't like men, because they were chaos and destruction and they were peaceful. A part of you understood, because you've seen the terrible things men can do, but your friends- they weren't like those men.
"Nothing... Just tired."
She takes your answer, even though she knows you're lying. You were frustrated and annoyed. You had been here for a month and found yourself making no progress. This was pointless.
You could have been with your friends, but here you were on some stupid island. You wanted to your friends.
"You know, if you don't get these down in the upcoming year, you'll have to stay."
You straighten up and glare at the woman. "No, I won't-"
Philippus quickly turns around, looking at you offended, "Excuse me?"
"Nothing." You quickly respond not wanting to repeat yourself.
She huffs, rolling her eyes, but decides to leave the conversation.
---
It had been a year since you were forced, by your mother, to train on the Themyscira Island. They wanted you to know how to use your powers to the fullest potential. It was fine... But you missed your friends. You wondered what they were doing. You wondered if they missed you too.
---
Jon was estatic. You were finally going to return from the island. Though, there was a part of him that was worried that you wouldn't remember them or even worse, you would hate them.
"You worry too much," Damian told him.
Jon sighs, trying to collect himself, "I'm just worried." Jon fiddles on his toes, as he repeated looks out of the window, hoping to see you pull up. Though, you were no where to be found. He walks away from the window, his shoulders dropping. "How far is that place?"
"Themyscira? It's a few weeks by boat, but she'll be here soon. She's home now."
Jon lightens up, "Home?"
"Yeah, she won't be here for a few more hours."
Jon glares at Damian, "You had me here looking like an idiot!"
Damian chuckles, "Yeah. I did, didn't I?"
---
Damian wasn't surprised by your appearance, unlike Jon. Damian had already seen you, without you knowing of course. You think he'd let you leave without any kind of contact? He knew everything, thanks to his connections. Though, nothing could compare to you really being in front of you.
Jon was the first to hug you. His arms squeezed you tightly, nearly causing you to lose your breath. He didn't want to let you go- Just hold you forever. He didn't want you leaving forever, but he was forced to let you go.
"You look great, Y/n."
You smile, a blush forming, "You too, Jon." You look around Jon to see Damian, who was avoiding eye contact. It almost reminded you of when you had first met the boys. "No hug, Damian?"
Damian finally looks at you, his natural glare on his face. Unlike Jon, who had let his hair grow out, Damian still had shorter hair, but his features were sharp. Though, that didn't surprise you. What did take you by surprise though is how much he looked like his father.
While Jon looked like a mix of Clark and Lois, Damian just looked like his father. Well, minus his golden skin- He got that from his mother.
Speaking of Jon, you felt him squeeze your bi-cep. You looked at him confused and he blushed.
"Uh, what are you doing, Jon?"
"Your biceps. They're like... Huge." He's fascinated by your arms, even comparing it to his own. While he was naturally strong, because of his powers, you had trained relentlessly for a year and it showed when your arms were bigger than his.
You chuckled at his amusement, before his eyes lit up, "Ah, Y/n you've missed out on so much- Come on," He grabs your arm, leading you inside the headquaters of the Justice League. You are stopped though when Damian grabs your arm that Jon didn't have. Jon looks back, wondering why you stopped when realizing Damian had grabbed you.
"Jon, why don't you head up. I just want to talk to Y/n."
Jon seems reluctant, but you turn to him, "I'll catch up. Promise."
He sighs, but ultimately goes up the stairs and inside the building.
"You look nice."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"That means a lot coming from you, you know?"
Damian avoids eye contact. He's worried that you might see all his emotions, feelings and thoughts. He didn't want you knowing his darkest thoughts. "Yeah.. Uh, Jon missed you a lot... Obviously. Um..." Damian had never been like this- Lost for words. He always knew what to say. He had everything calculated, but now... Well, he felt lost. He felt your stare on him, waiting for him to finish, but he felt his tongue felt twisted. "It's good to have you back."
"Yeah, well, it's good to be back. You know, I've missed you a lot... And Jon. I've missed you both a lot."
Damian finally looks at you. Your eyes bleeding into his own. For a moment it felt like you two were the only ones in the world. Everything else was just dark and all that was left was you. That was until another voice spoke.
"Y/n."
You both looked up to see your mother. She gestured for you to come inside and you looked back at Damian.
"Well, I guess that I have to go."
"Yeah... I'll see yah."
"Yeah... you will."
You rush up the stairs, trying to stop the blush from forming on your face. You were so embarrassed and felt like the conversation was stupid. You wished you could have done it differently, but it was Damian. You were sure he wasn't as pressed about it as you.
If only you knew how much your life was about to change forever- All thanks to teenage boys' puberty.
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moviecritc ¡ 7 months ago
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Hello! Can I please request a smau with Charles Leclerc and Alexandra with the reader. Like her getting hate online because people think she coming in between them but then they found out that she and Alex were already dating before even they met Charles and he's the one who came into their relationship also could you please make it fluff at the end, thank you <3
✦ ˚ : · YOU WONDER WHY I'M BITTER ⋆ ALEXANDRA SAINT MLEUX, CHARLES LECLERC 🦢
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pairing ☆ charles leclerc x singer! reader x alexandra saint mleux
summary ☆ you and alex broke up because she suggested charles to join your relationship, and you're really mad about it
warnings ☆ hate comments (mostly for alex, but it's just for the plot), mixed smau, arguments
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
masterlist | letterboxd
yourusername just posted!
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, alexandrasaintmleux and 34,612 others
yourusername MY NEW SONG IS HEREE !!!!!!!1!!!!!1!!!!! Stream Good Luck, Babe! so i can pay my hairdresser and make up artist THANK YOUU 🐽💥🌈💍
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user1 she's turning into my comfort artist guys
user2 y/n l/n for president 2024
user3 alex in the likes is LOUD
user4 and she's even early wtf girl user5 i'm new someone explain the lore user6 @/alexandrasaintmleux was y/n's gf for like four years, they were high school sweethearts and y/n wrote many songs about her. but four months ago they broke up and alexandra is now dating some formula 1 driver. literally four months later. some people say that she cheated, others that it was friendly, but idk user7 i mean after this song...
user8 ALEXANDRA WHEN I FOUND YOU
user9 'and you're NOTHING MORE THAN HIS WIFE' alexandra you're cooked
user10 FRRR she at least was something when she dated y/n. now she's just another f1 wag
user11 HOW I LOVE MESSY SONGS
user12 WE'RE SO BACK
user13 alexandra should be ashamed of walking in public after this
user14 sis casually making a diss track
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f1gossip just posted!
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liked by user14, yourusername and 1,459 others
f1gossip Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mleux out for dinner in Monaco
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user14 girl wtf
user15 they did her so dirty i love it
user16 the difference when she was out with y/n is LOUD
user17 yk i'm starting to think that charles is the problem user18 righ? alex was so comfortable with flashes around y/n and now this? wtf is this man doing user19 i think it was just a bad moment user20 maybe she didn't want to be seen after y/n's song user21 i hate men
user22 NOT Y/N LIKING THIS
user23 she KNOWS it's alex loss
user24 charles your gf is cleary uncomfortable why tf you're smiling
user25 he's probably happy about all the drama bc he's life is boring
user26 this is a pr relationship at a 100%
yourusername just posted a story!
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[caption: 10K streams just in the first week OMGGG, thank you thank you thank you. I love you so much guys, thank you for feeding my delusional ass 💥💥]
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user27 pop people princess
user28 WE LOVE YOU Y/NNN
user29 please PLEASE come to spain
user30 drop the tour dates nowww
alexandrasaintmleux Can we talk, please? In person, I know that you are in Paris this weekend
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Y/N had left Alexandra on read. She hadn't wanted to know anything about her since the proposal to become a throuple with that guy Leclerc, but even though she thought she hated the idea, she found herself looking at the photos Charles posted on his Instagram. He was objectively handsome, she wouldn't lie. Although the fact that he had taken her girlfriend did make him seem like the most horrible person she had ever met. But he was handsome.
Most of his photos were related to his job as a Ferrari driver. She had heard Alex talk about that sport hundreds of times; she should have guessed that she felt somewhat attracted to the most handsome driver on the grid. But there was one photo that really caught her attention; him, in his apartment, shirtless on his stationary bike. She couldn't stop looking at it, she even went into the comments to see what people thought, to make sure it wasn't weird to find him extremely attractive. Then, unintentionally, she liked it. She saw the red heart float on the screen and knew that was her end, she removed the like immediately, praying that no gossip page decided to be watching that post at the same time as her.
But it was already screwed, he was going to see her notification, he was going to tell Alex, and now they would have more reasons to meet. Everything was screwed.
A few minutes later, she received a message from Charles, which left her totally bewildered, but she opened it immediately anyway.
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user34 not the censurated name-
user35 makes a lot of sense to me actually
yourusername just posted!
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liked by laufey, alexandrasaintmleux and 342,512 others
yourusername Monaco you were LOUUUD !!!! The best city to open the leg of the tour and we had a blast together. Omw to Paris 💋🎸💐
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user31 she's so normal after exposing everything and everyone just in the first date
laufey princess of the princesses liked by author
user32 she's crazy for what she said
user33 now i want a public apology from alexandra and charles
user34 FR i can't believe they made her fell so bad
user35 yk break ups happen, it's not something bad. instead of spreading hate you should just move on girl, it's embarrasing
user36 oh shut up, she's a singer, she does drag. she's going to be dramatic user37 and we're here for it
user38 it has to be marketing bc last night was wild
user39 pretty sure it wasn't
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f1gossip just posted!
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liked by user1, user22 and 2,491 others
f1gossip Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend recently in Bali
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user40 they went the further they could bc of y/n's concert
user41 you can't convince me they're not pr
user42 0 chemistry
user43 i always see alex with her phone with charles
user44 she must be bored of him
user45 i don't think they even talk to each other
user46 i hate them so much
user47 these y/n's fans are taking f1 and i'm here for it
yourusername just posted on her story!
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[caption: favs ✨]
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user48 aren't those alex's favourites?
alexandrasaintmleux beautiful pic 💞
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[TRANSCRIPTION OF THE CALL BETWEEN ALEXANDRA AND Y/N]
Alex: Hiii. Y/N, listen to me. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I fucked up in every possible way
Y/N: Yeah, you did
Alex: But I love you. You have no idea how much love I have for you, mon chĂŠri. So much that I thought I had to share it with someone else. But I was wrong, so wrong
Y/N: Alex, you're so drunk. You're not thinking clearly
Alex: Listen to me. For once in your life, listen. I fucked up pretty much everything, and you have no idea how much I regret it. I- What are you d-?
[background noises, you hear Alex complain]
Charles: Y/N?
Y/N: Charles? Give the phone back to Alex, for the love of god.
Charles: Y/N, hear me out. Leave my girlfriend the fuck alone. You know I found you really hot at the beginning but you have to stop this shit. I have a fucking reputation out here.
Y/N: Give her phone back, dickhead.
Charles: Move on, bitch. She doesn't want you anymore, and me neither.
part 2
709 notes ¡ View notes
giveafike ¡ 4 months ago
Note
Hi can you write Elliot euphoria and YN have a camping indoors sleepover that leads to more than just friends. Extra smutty please 🤭
TLDR: Elliot and Y/N planned a "camping trip" during college vacation and well, one thing led to another and...
Word count + info: 2.1k THIS ONE IS LONGGGG! Dialogue (it’s mostly sex talk and them being silly goofy guys). Female college!readerxElliot (no specifications).
Warnings + Content Ahead: NSFW this is 18+ MDNI, 420 mentioned, biting, oral sex, no protection (smh), lotta making out and mouth stuff, thigh riding 🤭 I think that’s it!
Azzie Notes ✚: Chat we are so back! sorry I took so long bro, IRL has been soo fkin messy atm but I just needed to write and get back on here. Why is my inbox ovulating so hard tho 😭  guys lets be demure too (kidding I need dom more than ever before now that Dominic has gone MIA)I hope u enjoy it's been a while! I also mentioned Euphoria like,.. the actual word and geeked out a bit go try n find it and geek out w me
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————————————————————————
When It Rains, It Pours - D.F.
“Oh, dude you’ve got to be fuckin' kidding me” He huffs.
There you both were, like two idiots holding hamper baskets with blankets, snacks, rolling papers, and small pillows, staring out the glass door into the backyard as rain poured down heavy, the sound of wind whistling as the drops hit the windowed door hard.
You and Elliot had spent many summers “camping” in his backyard since High School and since college had separated your time together, what better way to reunite than kicking off summer in your hometown by camping? Only this year, you both promised to save up and go somewhere this time, but alas, it was just you, Elliot, his empty house and, the torrential rain outside. You both stood in matching tartan shorts and your graduation grey t-shirts from high school like a bunch of losers.
You sigh as you set down your hamper. “So much for that camping trip, huh?” you smirk, biting a smile down.
He sets his hamper basket down too and rummages through it to find his rolling paper and his little bag of weed. “Can’t believe our fuckin’ luck man” He murmurs angrily as he fumbles his papers up.
You sigh and reach over, grabbing his now crumpled paper, and, plop yourself down on the beanbag by the door before rolling his blunt for him. He sighs and sits on the floor between your legs, placing his chin on your knee before looking up at your face, and tucking some hair behind your ear.
“I missed this- I mean I missed you, ya know? Seeing your Instagram Stories and FaceTiming isn’t the same, you even look different. I really wanted to have something to remind you of me, like old times sake sort of thing, whatever that shit means” he mumbles, before pressing his cheek onto your knee, avoiding eye contact.
Your eyes widen at his confession and you stop in your tracks, your fingers moving away from the paper to his face, bringing his eyes back to look at you. Elliot had a lot messed up but one thing was for sure; he always had your back and was always there whenever you needed him.
You both were messed up together, he was your first kiss accidentally, you accidentally smoked weed together, and you both accidentally spent the night in a jail cell after trying to joyride an old car, only to end up crashing that same car within the span of a few minutes since neither of you could drive. Something about those accidents made your heart flutter and kept you around Elliot closer rather than push you away, even though your parents didn’t exactly take it well. Now, after spending almost 8 months away, you were worried Elliot felt like he was slipping away.
“Elli, you’ll always have me, you know that right? Like, you’ve fucked me up so bad that we have a trauma bond, you can’t expect me to slip away, dude. A-And remember one time it rained like this and we made an indoor fort? How ‘bout we do that then, yeah? We have all the stuff for it, the weed and all.” You smile, hoping to get a small laugh out of him as you hold his head, his eyes boring into yours while your fingers coil around his blonde-tipped hair.
He sighs and closes his eyes softly, before nodding, grunting as he gets up. He looks down at you before you lift your head to meet his gaze. Elliot lowers himself to plant kisses on your forehead with an overwhelming tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. It turns almost possessive as he trails it down to your cheek and peppers it with long kisses. Your breath hitches and you feel like melting under his touch. You had never felt a simple kiss to be so sensual but here you were, shivering with your breath hitching. He brings his mouth to your ear, his breath slow and almost ragged.
“If you left me, Y/N, I don’t know what I’d do...” His breath is ragged against your skin as he nips at your earlobe before abruptly standing upright again. He digs into his pockets as he walks over and attends to unpacking the hampers, acting nonchalant despite the raw passion still coursing through him. Elliot has kissed and touched you before, albeit while high, but something felt so different, so desperate at this moment.
You try to shrug it off as you roll a few more blunts before crawling inside the now-built fort Elliot had made. He sits on his knees as he puts up some string lights and fluffs up some pillows before resting on his elbows and leaning back. You sit in front of him, holding a blunt between your lips. He can’t help but smile as he brings his old lighter up to you, setting it alight and bringing his face close. The first hit in your lungs feels like home as you exhale with a giggle, blowing the smoke directly into his face. His eyes narrow playfully as he leans in, not breaking eye contact. Instead of simply taking the blunt, his lips brush against yours—soft, lingering—before catching the blunt between them. The kiss is brief but electric, the blunt slipping from your mouth to his as his lips hover close, teasing. For a moment, his face stays just inches from yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with the haze of smoke.
It’s like you’re in his pocket and he’s in yours, both of you wrapped around each others’ fingers. Your back is almost pressed to his, your face tilted up to look at his while his hands wrap around your waist, under your shirt and the waistband of your shorts feeling your smooth skin. It must’ve been 20 minutes when you decide to put the blunt to the side on a small tray and reach up to his face, this time parting his mouth for a kiss. It’s lazy and relaxed as you shift your body to straddle his thigh, your tongue slipping in. Elliot moans into the kiss, holding your hip with one hand and gripping your hair tight with the other.
You grind and gyrate on his thigh, your hands pulling at his curls; you knew he went crazy for hair tugs. His lips trail your neck, his tongue and teeth trailing and gnawing as he laps the length from your collarbone to your earlobe. You let out a whimper as you continue to buck against his thigh, desperate for more. You pull away, pressing your forehead to his.
“Elli, please… don’t hold back” you murmur, pleading as you heave.
He doesn’t answer, instead, he nods and takes his hand under your t-shirt to lift it up and over your head in one swift motion before connecting his lips back to yours. You gasp as you feel the cold air hit your naked torso, the sensation fresh with the sound of you making out with rain noises in the background and the smell of marijuana burning away. It all feels so right, so real.
His head dips between the valley of your breasts, suckling while holding eye contact, lazily moving his mouth over your breast, gliding the tip of his tongue in painful slow circles before taking your nipple between your teeth. His eyes look into yours with pure innocence and attentiveness, as you moan and hold his head there, roaming his curls as you continue to rock back and forth on his thigh, desperately trying for some friction for your now soaking core. You roll his t-shirt up and take it off his torso, throwing it to the side.
Elliot holds you and places you down on the pillow and the mess of bedsheets covering the wooden floor. He leans down, planting soft kisses from the nape of your neck to the edge of your waistband. He perks up to look at you with those sweet eyes you can never get enough of.
“You’re stunning, you know that, Y/N? You always have been.” He whispers shyly before tugging at your waistband looking for approval.
You nod and lift your hips up as he pulls your shorts and underwear off in one swift motion, discarding them outside of the fort. Elliot almost groans at the sight of you completely naked, his eyes filled with desire and admiration. He grabs the blunt placed on the tray and takes a long drag. Smoke billows from his lips and drifts towards your glistening center, making you shiver with anticipation. You moan at the sensation, feeling a wave of heat rush through your body. His head dips down while he kisses your inner thighs, licking softly. He kisses your core, right on your bud making you gasp. Elliot gently spreads your lips, taking one long lick up, circling over your bud. Something about how easy and purposeful he was being had made this all the more arousing, loud moans and encouragement rolling out from your lips begging him to keep going.
Elliot eats you out as if it's his sole duty, his purpose in life, and takes his sweet time to savour you, to thrust his tongue in and out of you, to drink you up until it brings your next orgasm, and then do it all over again. His hand thumbs your breast, the other holding your hips down as you continuously buck up for each wave of pleasure he gives you that ripples through your body. Elliot reaches down to free his member as he carries you through yet another orgasm, this time jerking himself off in slow, lazy strokes, dedicating himself to you first.
As you come down from your orgasm, you feel like you’re seeing stars, everything is flowing perfectly and harmoniously for the first time in a long time. You prop yourself up on your elbows as you watch him gently guide himself to your wet core. Elliot rubs his head up and down before thrusting in, watching your face for any sign of discomfort or displeasure. You grab his shoulder with one hand and bite your lip, nodding to ask him to keep going. He pushes in further, bottoming out inside of you entirely. Your tight hole twitches around his member, adjusting to his size as he slowly moves out, before pounding back in.
It doesn’t take much for Elliot to lose control and find himself relentlessly thrusting into you, roughly gripping a hand to your breast as he moves at a furious pace. You let out provocative giggles and purrs, further fueling his intense desire as he thrusts in and out of you. The fort feels humid, the sound of rain and skin slapping filling the room. Your body craves this, needing more and more as every thrust sends a wave of pleasure through your entire body. Elliot's red eyes are locked on yours, his face contorted with pure passion, your name spilling out like a prayer. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to go even deeper. His breath hitches as he pounds into you, his hips bucking wildly. The smell of sweat and sex fills the air as he continues to pound, his name echoing from your lips with every thrust.
As you near the edge, you can feel yourself tightening around him, squeezing each time he slams into you. Elliot grabs your hips, holding you tightly as he thrusts faster and harder, his eyes locked on yours. His face is a mix of passion and desperation, knowing you are about to shatter beneath him. And then it happens. You both reach your peaks, sending a jolt of euphoria through the both of you before collapsing, rocking together in one final attempt to ride out your highs. Your nails dig roughly into his shoulder as Elliot bites down on yours, your arms holding him as he lies on top of you before he pulls out and falls to your side. You both breathe out with your mouths dry and skin slick with sweat as you stare up at the bedsheet lined fort ceiling covered in string lights.
Elliot sits up to lazily grab the blunt from the tray, accidentally brushing past one of the fort supports. He pauses for a moment, before exhaling and lying back, taking a drag before handing it to you, smiling.
“You know, for a second there I thought I fuckin’ ruined the momen-” He’s cut off by the fort caving in, entangling you both in sheets. You can’t even be mad at him, he just accidentally crashed his own fort after making your legs shake. God knows how the rest of the night goes, but at least it’s spent with good, old Elli.
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siriusblackloml ¡ 1 year ago
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Day 7 - Tom Riddle (Kinktober 2023)
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1700+
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: swearing, smacking, derogatory terms, oral sex, TOM BEING VERY, VERY TOXIC. LIKE MAD TOXIC BRUH. MDNI (18+)
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist┊Day 8
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Never in a million years would you ever intentionally try to do something that would piss off your boyfriend. That is the very last thing you would want to do. Therefore, it should be understood right off the bat that you never, ever meant to upset Tom today. Simply put, you made a small mistake.
Sure, a part of you knew that you were breaking the rules, but it was only meant to be brief. The contract that Tom had you followed in order to keep a clean, pristine relationship between the two of you included many…rules. These rules varied among different topics and areas of intimacy. However, one of the biggest rules that Tom insisted that you followed at all times was that you could never be seen with boys by yourself. It didn’t matter if they were your friend for a few days or even years; he was your boyfriend, therefore he was much more important.
Tom knew that he couldn’t completely separate you from boys at this school, there were literally everywhere you went. However, he figured it looked better if you were only around boys other than himself if you were in a large group with other girls. He has always been such a firm believer that if you were to be seen hanging around boys by yourself that it looks bad on your relationship. It would appear to the remaining students of Hogwarts that you had a lingering eye. Or, in his own words, it would make you look like a whore.
You didn’t want that, of course. But this simple little mistake you made today was never meant to blow up into something so big. You were innocently studying at the library, or at least had been for some time before you realized you were growing hungry. As you were just about to exit the library, a classmate stopped you in the middle of your walk. A boy, whose name you weren’t quite sure you could place, asked you, “Hey, Y/N! Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, but do you remember how many scrolls long this paper has to be? I can’t remember for the life of me.”
In an instant you stop in your tracks at the question. Turning your head towards the voice, you share a soft smile and respond in a cheerful voice, “Yeah! It’s supposed to be three scrolls long. Good luck with that.”
The boy says, “Thanks, you too! I really can’t stand these papers. They’re such a pain in the ass sometimes.”
This should have been your cue to leave. Then again, you’d been at the library for what felt like hours now. You deserved a quick interaction, and how likely would it be that Tom would be coming in here anytime soon anyway? You take a step towards your classmate and chime in agreement, “Yeah, I totally agree. I have so much trouble trying to get to three scrolls, and I know it’s going to be even worse later in the year when we start getting assigned five scrolls minimum.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine though. You always do so well on assignments.” He tells you.
In a matter of seconds, your cheeks are tinted pink from the compliment. You appreciate the boost of confidence. Maybe it was dumb that you were so easily flattered by a boy that was clearly not your significant other, however you didn’t seem to care. You liked that he saw you for your talents within the classroom and made sure to tell him such. “Thanks! I really appreciate that.”
“Y/N.” A familiar voice echoes in the library.
Your heart drops instantly. It was as though the air around you was sucked out of your lungs from the sound of your boyfriend catching sight of you breaking the rule. You knew damn well you were in for a punishment later that night, there was no doubt about that. It was unfortunate that he was going to treat you like you had cheated on him when clearly you hadn’t…it was even more unfortunate that the thought of Tom’s cruel, toxic behavior made your panties wet beyond belief.
Later that night, you’re glued to the floor by your knees. Tom’s trousers were already pulled down while his girth was shoved down your throat. Eyes watery, spit pooling from your mouth, you groan around his length as he pummels himself into your wet cavern over and over again. You moan around Tom, “Hmpf! Ah, T-Tom!”
It was perverted the way Tom’s face alters so proudly to see you flail around from the strength of his thrusts. Your hands were holding onto his thighs like it was a lifesaver from the massive blows to your throat. The sensation of your warm tongue licking at his cock makes him groan. Without missing a beat, Tom continues thrusting into your mouth. “Such a dirty girl. You deserve this, Y/N. You deserve to be used after today. Need to make you feel like the whore you are.”
Your hearts rapidly racing like crazy. Despite the disgusting words that spewed from Tom’s lips, you continued to moan around him and attacked his cock with quick motions of your tongue. You were enjoying every moment of this, though. While he could be overbearing sometimes, there was nothing about this situation that was scaring you. If anything, it only turned you on even more.
Your eyes meet Tom’s as you look up at him through wet eyelashes. His grin flickers into something more sinister as he continues to watch you cry over the force of his length. “Such a whore. You can’t even stop yourself for one second, you need the attention of some boy in the library. Wonder what he would think if he saw you now. Choking on my cock like some dumb slut.”
Suddenly, Tom has pulled out his length from your mouth. He smacks the tip against your cheek a few times as a reminder that you are still beneath him, that you’ll always be beneath his power; but that was fine by you. You loved the way he treats you even if it is degrading. You knew you deserved this. Because after all, you’re a dirty whore for sitting alone with a boy that wasn’t your boyfriend.
Coughing from the burning sensation in the back of your throat, you look up at your boyfriend and tell him, “I-I’m sorry, Tom. I really didn’t mean-”
“Get on the bed, now. Hands and knees.” He commands you in a dark voice.
Not wasting another second, you strip off all clothing and get onto the bed without a second thought. The cool air of the bedroom hits your glistening cunt. In the midst of all the dirty talking and face-fucking, Tom had managed to find a way to make you soaked wet. You feel his hands trail along your bare bottom. Goosebumps run up and down your thighs. Tom seems to take note of this behavior and allows his fingers to dig deep into the plumpness of your legs. He squeezes the fat and gives it a quick jiggle, right before pulling his hand back to slap the flesh hard. You yelp out of pain, “Oh, fuck!”
“My naughty whore. You should be able to handle this, right? It’s what you deserve after today.” He says huskily, getting into position between your legs. He smacks your thighs once, twice, multiple times in a row. Your skin stings in pain, red and hot from the blows.
However, you loved every second of it. You know Tom loves it when you apologize, so you continue with your begging. “I’m sorry! I love you, Tom, I do. I only want you and your cock.”
At the mention of his girth, the boy instantly grabs the base of the member. He guides the head of his cock to spread your wet lips, barely grazing your clit. Your entire body shudders and you let out a soft moan. He tells you, “If you really do want me, you’ll have to prove it. Take me like a good girl.”
Looking back at Tom, you stare at him intently as you feel the tip of his member push past your lips and enter your wet hole. You comply immediately to his wants and push back against him so that he can enter you easier. As scary as he sounds, you know you two have a safe word that you could blurt out at any moment if you truly were terrified. Which you weren’t, and he knew this. Without prep, it burned like hell to feel Tom push himself inside you, but felt satisfying nonetheless. Your mouth is open wide as you let out a whine. He inserts himself all the way in, making you gasp loudly. “F-Fuck, Tom. F-Feels so good.”
“That’s fucking right.” He growls, hands finding their ways to your hips. He pulls out and slams inside you harshly, thrusting into your sweet pussy with enough force to make you fall forward onto the bed.
Face pressed against the mattress, you scream loudly. “Yes! YES! Fuck me, you feel so good! Such a big cock!”
You can feel your breasts rock back and forth violently from the intensity of his hips slapping against your bottom so harshly. You can feel his balls slapping against your ass as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. He hammers into your cunt with deep, long strokes and nearly laughs at how hard you squeeze him like a vice. “You’re so damn tight. Damn, I love fucking your pussy.”
You arch your back and can feel your ass ripple from the force of his thrusts. Not long after Tom pistons his cock in and out of your hole, you feel an orgasm rocket through your body and leave you a moaning mess. Juices leak out of you and onto his member, and the sight makes your boyfriend fall apart.
He pounds you into submission, groaning loudly as the knot in his stomach grows tighter and tighter. Tom spanks you with the emphasis of each word, telling you, “Take. My. Fucking. Cum.”
He pulls himself out of your leaking cunt, stroking his cock to spray his warm seed all over your thighs. You sigh blissfully at the feeling of his liquid covering your bottom. It was incredibly hot and made you smile wide. You turn your head to Tom, watching him grin at the artwork he left on your legs. You ask him, “Are we good now?”
He nods his head, wiping sweat from his brow and tells you, “Yes. You did well, honey.”
And that’s all you need to hear to be able to fall asleep happily later that night.
TAGLIST: @calmspencer, @baddiebbarbietngz, @slytherclaw1978, @serendipitous-fernweh, @pandanation24, @rachelreallyroars, @tinafuentes, @chvmpion-jack, @ethereallovr, @godknows-shetried, @waggoth, @ellieswhor3, @wildestdreamers-tv, @faefaes-world, @hahahafucku, @delusional-13s-blog
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bowlofsoob ¡ 1 year ago
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SOOBIN AS YOUR MUTUAL THAT YOU HATE IRL — part one
part two
soobin x gender neutral reader
you and “steve” have been mutuals on twitter for almost a year as you both run bebe rexha fan accounts. he uses a fake name and you guys get along well, you talk to him more than your irl friends atp. on the other hand you and soobin don’t get along irl after constantly competing for the number one spot on the academic leaderboard. since then he always gives you a rbf and says he finds you too obnoxious. but that all changes when you finally decide to meet your favorite oomf in person.
notes; this could be an entire smau lowk but i’m lazy so take the part one and part two xx
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later that week
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Your stomach was swarming with nerves as you made your way inside the cafe, the scent of freshly made coffee and sweaty college students surrounding you as you slid into line. Admittedly, you never thought you’d get the chance to meet Steve, or whatever his actual name was, he was just your cute internet friend and nothing would ever happen. That was, until today.
It was a bit embarrassing that you stared at the selfie he’d sent for longer than you should’ve. It was difficult to comprehend the boy you’d been talking to for so long was hiding such a pretty figure.
You eye the display of cakes and decide to pick one up for the both of you as Steve had already promised to get you guys coffee. You felt bad going empty handed after finally meeting him.
You reach down to grab onto the last chocolate slice and your hands meet another. Usually, you’d let it slide and choose something else even though you touched it first. But, when you looked to your left and locked eyes with your self-proclaimed enemy, Choi Soobin, those thoughts washed away. You were going to fight for that slice of mediocre cake.
“Not you again,” Soobin sighed, tugging the slice towards him, “Don’t be obnoxious.”
“Says you,” you scoff, tightly grabbing onto the plate, “Why are you always so rude towards me?”
“Ask yourself the same thing,” Soobin replies, his large hands tugging the cake closer towards him, “Choose something else.”
“You choose something else, I got to it first!”
“Ok and?” Soobin questions, like the little shit he is.
“Fine, just take it,” you sigh, not wanting to make Steve wait. But as you let go of the cake and step back you notice Soobin’s outfit. He was adorned in clothes that oddly resembled the photo Steve had sent you.
“You made me lose my appetite,” Soobin mutters, dropping the cake and shuffling past you. You shake off the familiarity and make your way towards the back. Most men wore the same clothes, it was nothing.
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You eye the walls of the cafe until you come across the tiled design. You start scouring the seats for someone that resembled Steve but the only person in your vicinity was Soobin.
You inch your way closer towards him with morbid curiosity, hoping that your suspicions would be proved wrong. But as you got closer the drinks on the table and location of your rival were too similar to the photo Steve had sent you.
Unfortunately, Soobin locked eyes with you.
“What do you want? Are you here to apologize?” he questions, playing with the straw of his drink as he barely give you a glance.
“Steve?” you tentatively ask, your voice hoarse from the nerves. This couldn’t be happening.
Soobin pauses.
“What?” he slowly asks, turning to look at you, “What did you call me?”
“Oh my god,” you gasp, “Are you pagebebe?”
“What…,” he starts, catching on, “You’re bebeyn4lyfe?”
Your username sounds foreign on his tongue but it was him. Soobin was your steve. Your beloved Steve was the same guy you’ve been on bad terms with all year. Just your luck.
Before Soobin could comprehend anything or you could answer, you decide to do the most mature thing anyone would do in that situation.
You run.
And he doesn’t follow.
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hayakawalove ¡ 7 months ago
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I'd Wait For You
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Summary: Everything is perfect between you and Suguru. It could not get any better. The universe has a funny way of doing things though. How do you cope once Suguru gets taken away from you? Will Suguru be able to move onto the afterlife, or will he stay by your side? A/N: I wanted to try my hand at writing angst. Haven't done it too much. Please ignore the inaccuracies of the medicine, it won't be perfect. Comments always appreciated!
CW: SFW, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Death (not reader), Grief/Mourning, Afterlife, Depression, Medical, Car Accidents, Sad, Fucked up but honestly not too bad
W/C: 6,584
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Suguru hadn’t known love until he first met you. 
Everything that led up to you was somehow minuscule compared to the emotions that coursed through his veins whenever he saw you. He wasn’t aware of how fast a heart could beat, how his lungs could falter from merely being in the presence of another person. He wasn’t even quite sure what he’d done to achieve someone like you. We were made for each other, you always told him. In his opinion, he believed he was made for you. Crafted and designed to love you. Not because you needed to have someone like him, but because he needed someone like you. Someone to care for and love.
It was your birthday, and just like he had done every year before this, Suguru was planning on making your dinner. He liked doing it, it made him feel like he was doing something right. It was the least he could do for you, after everything you’ve done for him. He thinks you don’t even know the half of it. 
“Shit.” Suguru murmurs under his breath as he searches the freezer. He could have sworn he bought the meat for tonight, but it was nowhere to be found. 
“Did you find it yet?” He hears your voice call from the couch. 
He doesn’t really have the heart to tell you that no, he hadn’t found it. His lip twitches as he pushes aside all the useless ingredients, looking in places he had already checked three times over. 
Suguru is so focused on the fridge in front of him that he doesn’t even hear your feet padding into the kitchen. 
Tender hands wrap around him from behind, yanking him from his despair. When he looks over his shoulder he sees you behind him, peeking over with curious eyes. 
“I'm sorry baby.” He speaks quietly, turning around to the fridge again. 
He shuts the freezer and faces you, taking you into his arms. It’s nice like this, having you pushed up against him. It makes him feel like he’s protecting you. 
“What’re you sorry for?” You ask. 
You reach your hands up and place a palm on either side of his face. Your mouth drops open as you hold him. 
“Suguru, you’re freezing.” You scold. “How long were you looking in there?” 
He hadn’t realized how cold he was until your warm fingers pressed into his cheek. He nuzzles against you and allows his lids to flutter closed, indulging in the warmth you provide. 
“Only a little bit.” He says. He would rather die than tell you he’s been here for ten minutes. 
“No luck though, huh?” You don’t seem sad when you ask this, and Suguru can’t figure out why. 
He feels like he ruined your birthday. 
“Unfortunately no, but I’m gonna go head down to the store to pick it up. I shouldn’t be gone long.” 
“I don’t want you to go, though!” 
You have an exaggerated frown playing on your lips as you tug his arm. 
“Baby, you need food. I promise it’ll be-“ 
“Why don’t we go out to eat?” You propose. 
He’s looking at you with raised brows, watching partly in amusement. It wasn’t an awful idea, but he much rather preferred to cook for you himself. It was like a gift that way, although he bought you plenty of those too. He nearly felt giddy at the idea of how you would react to each present, all hiding in various places around the house. You always told him he didn't have to get you anything, so he had to get creative in his hiding spots.
“What, you hate my cooking?” He jokes, pulling back to straighten your clothes. 
At first you would snap at him when he mindlessly groomed you like this, but you had gotten used to it. It was just another avenue for him to show his love, fixing your attire like a mother would.
“Ugh, it’s the worst!” You joke back. 
Both of you were well aware of how much you loved his cooking. 
“A shame.” He murmurs. 
“We never go out, it’s been ages since we’ve gone somewhere nice. Don’t you think it would be fun? That way, you wouldn’t have to slave over the stove for me.” 
“But what if I want to slave over the stove for you?” 
“There will always be another time.” You squeeze his arm. 
You’re right. He can always do it for you for your next birthday. 
“If you say so.” Suguru presses his lips against yours. 
~~~
It’s a chilly night, the black sky above you providing no heat as you head out of the restaurant. You’re cradling your stomach as if you were 8 months pregnant, while one of your arms is wrapped around his. You’re chattering his ears off, but Suguru doesn’t mind. The night felt perfect, he wasn’t sure how it could get any better. 
The two of you are making your way to your parked car, not in a rush. You have all the time in the world. You’re strumming his hand as you talk, only letting go when he pulls your door open for you.
Suguru crosses the car and slides into the driver's seat, not backing out until your seat belt is on. The drive is calming, your windows rolled down to let in the night air as you quietly sing along to the radio.
“Was it a good birthday?” Suguru asks, tossing a look your way before focusing on the road. 
“It was perfect.” You promise, your eyes twinkling.
Suguru starts to think about which gift he wants you to open first.
“Hey Suguru?” You ask.
“Yeah?” Suguru looks up from the wheel to see your face. 
Your brows are furrowed together as you look forward. Something wasn’t right.
“What is that guy doing?” You speak quietly.
Suguru turns his head forward, his foot on the brake as the car sits at a red light. There’s another car in front of you, driving towards you. He isn’t slowing down for the light, and Suguru can feel his pulse pick up. 
“I don’t-“ Suguru starts. 
The driver presses on the gas even harder, his car jerking, now hurdling in your direction. Suguru only has half a second to throw his arm across your front, shoulder covering part of your body.
…
Love makes you do crazy things. 
Love can make you feel unstoppable. 
Love can make you cover your partner in a car accident without a second thought. 
The movies never get it right, Suguru thinks. People always talk about the pain, how much it hurts. But Suguru doesn’t feel pain. He doesn’t feel anything. He wishes it was more accurate, that way he could have been prepared. 
It was loud, so loud. 
Metal on metal, tires screeching. It also smelled. Gas, fire, and burning something. Was it plastic? He had never smelled something so atrocious. Suguru turns his head to locate you and sees you motionless, your beautiful lids fluttered shut. Is that blood? Something’s reflecting on your forehead and he hopes to god it’s not blood. 
He attempts to say your name, but nothing comes out. It’s as if his voice box has been completely removed, leaving a gaping hole in his throat. His fingers twitch as he tries to move to help you. 
Move, move. 
He’s begging his useless body to do something, anything. It’s never cooperated with him, lest of all when he needs it most. 
Suguru thinks he hears yelling. Was that a woman? It’s a voice he’s never heard before, and she’s saying something he can’t quite decipher. His head is spinning as he tries to focus on the voice, but it isn't easy. It's all becoming overwhelming, each of his senses being amplified. The sight and sound alone was enough to leave him breathless.
Red lights. 
Cops. 
No, not cops. 
An ambulance. 
He hopes it’s an ambulance. You really needed one.
Suguru tries to focus as he strains his ears to listen for your breathing. He could feel his eyelids get heavier and heavier, his sheer willpower being the only thing keeping him awake. There’s more tires screeching and the ambulance has arrived, heavy footfalls running to your car. 
Good.
Good.
Help is here.
It would all be alright. 
Everything would be fine.
~~~
When his eyes open, he sees white. He must have been in a hospital, the clinical setting surrounding him. No one was in his room. Not even you. You were in worse shape from what he remembers, so he understands. 
He isn’t in as much pain as he would’ve expected from being in a car accident, but he’s glad. Suguru looks down and wiggles his fingers, then his toes. Good. He isn’t missing anything. He knows you would’ve taken care of him if he was missing something, but he would rather soon die than make you do something like that. 
Suguru sits up and notices he isn’t attached to any monitors, which is odd. He figures he probably didn’t need them though, so he quickly pushes the thought aside. He might as well look for you since he was able. You could have been really hurt, and he wouldn’t have been able to rest until he learned where you were. 
The hospitals halls are a scary place, even for Suguru. He knows many great things happen in hospitals, but there’s also a lot of tragedy too. He tries not to think about all the death as he walks down the halls. There are nurses and doctors pushing past him, paying him no mind. They were busy. He could see it in their droopy eyes as they locate room numbers and run to codings. 
He finds the nurses station and speaks up, finding two women sitting at the desks. 
“Excuse me?” He says. 
Nothing. 
Weird. 
“Uh, I’m looking for someone.” 
Suguru says your name, but neither of them turn to him. 
Okay, maybe they were too engrossed in their conversation. 
His eyes flick down where he sees a chart, and at the very top of the list was your name. Room A93. That wasn’t too far from here. 
He spares them one last glance before turning around to locate your room. His heart flutters (not in the good way) when he gets closer to the door. Could he handle seeing you hooked up to a million monitors? Could he handle seeing other people take care of you? Suguru pushes through it. He needs to see you. He comes to a stop outside your room and hears voices coming from inside, talking to you. 
“And where is Suguru?” He picks up on your voice, the sound instantly warming his heart. 
“He’s… not in good shape.” 
He wasn’t? 
He felt great. 
Suguru pokes his head around the door and finds a tall woman with tanned skin and long dark hair. She must be the doctor. 
“What do you mean?” You ask.
The doctor straightens, tired eyes looking up at you. 
“He was intubated, he lost a lot of blood and sustained a head injury. My team had to put him in a medically induced coma. I actually was coming here to talk to you about whether or not he wanted to be on life support.” 
What? 
“I'm sorry, what are you talking about?” Your body is turned towards her, anticipation leaking from your pores.
“You’re married, aren’t you? I trust that the two of you have gone over it?” 
You haven't looked his way, not even once. 
“Let me see him.” You’re sitting up, wobbling as your frail body attempts to hold you up. 
You don’t see him right now? 
“I'm not sure that’s a good idea.” The doctor comments, her voice heavy as if she knows something you don’t. 
“Please.” 
The doctor softly sighs and dips her head once, acknowledging your desperation. She relents, aiding you in getting up. You can’t do it on the first try, your face wincing in pain as you ease yourself off the bed. The doctor is patient as she helps you, because of course she is.
Suguru follows you to his room, throat dry as he stares at the IV stand in your hands. What was happening? 
“Suguru?” His heart shatters at the way your voice cracks. 
He turns the door and comes to a halt behind you, looking over your shoulder. He was looking at himself. His motionless body was laying in the hospital bed, looking more helpless than he had ever felt in his whole life. 
“What happened?” You ask, your eyes never leaving his bed.
“There was an accident. I was told that he took the brunt of the crash to cover you. He’s not…” The doctor looks anxiously between you and him. “I don’t think he’s going to make it.” 
The room is quiet, eerily so as you process the news the doctor gave you. There’s a steady beeping sound coming from behind his body, the only sign of life. By all accounts, he looked dead. Suguru flicks his eyes up and notices a brain monitor attached to him, but the line was flat. How was that possible? Was he in some space between life and death right now? 
You rip the IV from your arm and run up to the bed, collapsing beside his body. Suguru can see blood begin to pool from your forearm, dark red trickling down your wrist as you force yourself against his bed.
“Suguru! Wake up!” You’re shaking his body, voice trembling and loud as tears begin to fall from your eyes. 
He doesn’t wake up. His useless body doesn’t even flinch.
“You asshole! Wake up!” You’re in hysterics as you shake him, and Suguru feels himself choke on a tear. 
“We need to discuss-“ The doctor starts.
“Don’t do this to me! You gotta wake up!” 
Suguru is beside you now, standing above your crumbled form. You’ve never looked so small before. Your tears are staining the sheets beside his body as you hold his hand, your other arm clawing at his chest. Suguru can’t tell which hurts more, watching himself or looking at you. 
He needs to comfort you. 
He needs to make you smile. 
But he can’t. He can’t do anything. Suguru is forced to stand by your side as you cry until you lose your voice, until all of your words blur together and no one can understand what you’re saying. 
The doctor stays with you the entire time, remaining quiet as you sob. She wanted to comfort you, but she also needed an answer. And the truth of the matter was, Suguru never wanted to be on life support. It was a discussion you had early on in your marriage. He didn't want to be a burden. You respected his decision at the time, never in a million years thinking you would have to uphold his choice.
~~~
It’s raining the day they pull the plug on Suguru. He always did like the rain. It made for perfect nights in with a warm drink and his favorite book. Obviously with you by his side. That’s not what he’s thinking about when he sees the sky the day he dies. All he can think about is how your tears match the droplets, how god must be crying for you. He hated it. You said it was fitting. It was one of the only things you said on that day.
Suguru watches as his body gets whisked away, he told himself he couldn’t watch the embalming process, but when it happens he can’t look away. It felt unreal. His body was cold to the touch, pale as it lay on the metal table. He didn't look real. He watches with curious eyes as they pump him full of fluids in an attempt to immortalize his youth and beauty. He overhears the morticians talking. Not even thirty years old, they mumble. All Suguru can think about is how you weren’t even thirty. The word ‘widow’ was meant for older people whose partners died in natural circumstances, not for someone like yourself. Plump cheeks and a full life ahead of you.
It’s sunny when his funeral is held. He’s glad for that, he dreaded the idea of you waiting out in the cold. You sit in the front with Satoru. Suguru expected you to be a wreck, you were at the hospital after all. But you aren’t. You sit quietly as each person speaks, your chin tucked into your chest. Your eyes are glassy as you listen. You were checked out. He wanted to take a peek into your brain to see what memory you were reliving. Was it the time you both vacationed in the Bahamas? Or was it when you talked for hours about your favorite book? Those were his favorite memories, but he didn't know yours. He never thought to ask before. Now he wouldn’t have the chance to.
You refuse to let anyone help you make it home, I’m fine you said. You weren’t fine. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see that. All the people surrounding you tried to offer words of comfort, promises to help falling from their lips. You wave them off as you set off down the sidewalk towards your apartment. You hadn’t been in a car since the incident.
The second you close your front door you collapse onto your floor, your knees hitting the ground with a hard thud. You let out the most ear piercing wail. Suguru didn’t know people were capable of making noises like that. He didn’t have a body anymore, but he swore he felt chills creep over his skin. 
You keep screaming, and screaming, and screaming. Suguru hears a loud pounding and turns his head to the door. Someone was here. The pounding resumes and he hears his best friend call out, trying to get your attention. You aren’t listening. You don’t care about anything outside these four walls. 
Satoru twists the knob hoping by some miracle it would unlock. Unfortunately, you had the foresight to lock the door before falling to pieces. Satoru relents in using the knob and tries bumping the door with his shoulder. It takes him a couple of tries before it splinters open. He's out of breath as he looks down at your figure. Your crumpled figure. 
Leave it to Satoru to follow you to ensure you got home safely. Suguru tells himself to repay Satoru, buy him that soda he likes, but then he remembers. He will never be able to repay him for anything again. 
He hopes a token of his gratitude is enough. 
You don’t register that Satoru is even there until he’s kneeling beside you, holding your body close to his. You thrash a bit, shoving him back but he doesn’t budge. Satoru takes it all, even though it hurts. 
“Hey, hey, I’m here.” He murmurs quietly to you. 
“He's gone! He's gone!” You’re heaving into the air, letting him rock you back and forth. 
“I know. I know.” 
“He's never coming back, Satoru!” 
You breathe in deeply, your chest sore from the meltdown. 
“Bring him back! Please, please Satoru!” 
Satoru grits his jaw as he holds you tight. It must be hard. Suguru mourns the loss of himself through you. He can feel the pain you’re in, it feels like a forest fire as it claws into him. 
You’re scratching at Satoru, as if you could dig your way back to Suguru.
Suguru has never felt so helpless before. How do you help someone when they’re mourning the loss of the love of their life? How do you console them when they will never see them again? How could he make you feel better? 
He can’t do anything. He's an outsider in his own home, watching the people who were closest to him.
Satoru grips you as you sob, occasionally rocking your frame back and forth. He doesn’t say anything. There really isn't anything to say. The living room quiets down as your screaming becomes sniffling. Suguru doesn’t know how much time has passed. Satoru refuses to let go until he feels your breathing slow down, your body going limp in his hold. 
Satoru never leaves. He just sets you on your bed before making his way to the couch. He looks just as fucked up as you do. Suguru doesn’t think he’s ever seen his friend in such a bad state before. Eyes that had previously been so bright were now dull, his lips tugged down into a deep frown. Satoru slides onto the couch, his eyes shutting the second he makes contact. 
Suguru takes turns watching the two of you sleep. It breaks his heart. Never again will he feel the warmth of your sleeping figure beside him. Never again will he wake up before you to start your breakfast. 
Things are awkward between you and Satoru in the morning. Neither of you know how to approach the subject. 
Satoru is the first to talk. He always was the talker. 
“Good morning.” 
Your eyes flick to him, almost as if you were expecting him to stay the night. Satoru looks uncomfortable, which is a first. 
“I uh, I'm gonna pick up breakfast. Do you want anything?” He goes on.
A moment passes before you speak. When your voice comes out it's brittle, harsh in a way Suguru has never heard before. 
“I'm fine.” 
The hours of screaming must have caught up to you. 
“Yeah, alright.”
Satoru is scratching the back of his neck, a tell that Suguru learned years ago. He has something to say, but doesn’t know how to say it. 
“I really think you should eat something.”
“Satoru.” 
Satoru steps back as if the tone of your voice wounded him. 
“Okay. I’ll back off. I’ll bring back something for you to drink at least.” 
Satoru doesn’t ask so you don’t have the chance to deny him. You watch as he exits your apartment, your gaze fixed on your broken door.
Satoru calls repairmen to handle the door while he’s out. It doesn’t take them long at all to fix the damage he dulled out the prior night. 
When Satoru comes back he has two drinks and two bags in his hands. He bought something for you to eat in the end. Satoru rings the doorbell and waits for you. 
You never come. 
He knows you’re home, because where else would you be? 
He stands there for thirty minutes before he takes the hint that you don’t want to be seen. 
Suguru wishes he could curl up in on himself at the sight of his best friend looking so dejected as he leaves. Satoru was making an effort. Suguru doesn’t blame you though. He never could. If he was in your position, Suguru wouldn’t stop until the whole world around him was burned to the ground, he wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left.
Satoru comes back hours later to drop off dinner and notices that the bag of breakfast he left for you is still in the same place. You hadn’t touched it. He leaves dinner for you as well, hoping by some chance that you’ll actually eat something.
~~~
Satoru stands at your door, a bag in his hands as he tries to keep up a smile. Suguru can tell it’s a hard task, he’s always been able to look right through his best friend. 
It had been two weeks since the funeral, and Satoru has stopped by every single day.
Satoru says your name again, rocking back on his heels. He’s been here for two hours. Suguru knows because he’s seen him check his phone five times. One of your neighbors comes out and greets Satoru, smiling once he gives her attention. The two had been acquainted because he had visited so often. Satoru didn’t mean to seduce the older woman, but it just came with the territory of being a beautiful man. 
“Hey Ms. Nakamoto!”
“Hello sweetie.” 
“I brought you something.” Satoru searches the bag he’s holding and produces a wrapped piece of chocolate. 
Suguru knows Satoru didn’t bring it for her, but that he couldn't bear the thought of not giving her something.
“You’re so kind, Satoru.” Ms. Nakamoto squeezes Satoru’s shoulder before walking off, popping the chocolate in her mouth. 
Satoru watches her leave with a smile plastered on his face. It feels genuine in the same way a waitress's smile is genuine when she’s working.
“Are you gonna let me in?” Satoru calls, resting his shoulder against the door.
You’re standing on the other side of the door, staring into the wood as if you’d be able to see Satoru if you look hard enough. 
Suguru doesn’t understand why would don’t want to see Satoru. 
He wonders if it’s because Satoru reminds you of him. Suguru would understand, the two have always been inseparable. It was never that way for you, though. You never saw Satoru and thought of Suguru in the past. It was one of the many things he liked about you. He felt like he could be his own person around you. He wonders if the lines are blurred now that he was gone.
“I know you’re there.” Satoru says, leaning against his forearm. 
“Why won’t you let me in?” He waits for a moment until you respond. 
“I don’t want to.” 
“I brought snacks.” 
“I don’t care.” 
Suguru’s heart breaks. You look like a mess, your hair was piled on top of your head and you were wearing the same clothes you had been wearing yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. It was one of Suguru’s shirts, the clothing wrapped around your body as if it was a cocoon. You had been wearing it for so long that the smell of his cologne was starting to fade away. You cried for four hours the night you realized.
Neither of you talk or move for that matter, intent on waiting it out to see who would break first. You have something on your mind, Suguru can tell you’re holding back. 
“Why did he do it?” You ask, your voice muffled through the door. 
You know Suguru as much as Satoru does, but Suguru supposes there’s a sense of relief from the company. 
“You know why he did it. He loved you.” Satoru responds, his voice more level than Suguru had ever heard it. 
“He wouldn’t have been able to stand himself if he didn’t save you.” Satoru finishes. 
You and Satoru both turn around and slide your backs against the door till your butts hit the floor. 
You’re separated by a piece of wood, yet it feels like you’re miles away. Even though you felt so far apart, the two of you were the only ones on the planet who understood each other. 
“He’s selfish.” You say, and Suguru thinks you mean to have a bite to it, but it comes off much more heartbroken. 
“What makes him selfish?” 
“He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he let me die, so he’s making me live without him instead. Why didn’t he care that it would hurt me?” You question.
Satoru’s silent as he listens. He’s good at that, although he talks a lot. Suguru is glad you have someone to talk to who listens when you need it.
“I think he did care.” Satoru says, looking at his legs. “He just loved you too much to stop himself.”
“It was my fault, you know.” You start. 
“I was the one who suggested going out.”
Satoru is silent as he listens and Suguru feels like he’s been shot. You were blaming yourself? If Suguru could talk to you, he would reassure you that you had nothing to do with what happened. 
“It wasn’t your fault.” Satoru says, unsure of how else to comfort you. 
Nothing he could say would take the pain away, he was aware of that much. 
Suguru is on your side of the door, watching as your lip starts to tremble. You must be sick of being alone. You slowly stand up and reach for the door, opening it much to Satoru’s surprise. He nearly falls back before hopping to his feet, facing you.
“Do you want to come in?” You ask, knowing the answer.
~~~
Ever since the night you let Satoru in, you welcome him in. Suguru thinks it's nice, watching the two of you talk. He’s glad you’re opening up to someone. It’s not good to keep it all in, and Suguru couldn’t stand the idea of you shutting down completely. 
In the beginning, Satoru would sit on the furthest end of the couch, but over time he slowly inched closer until the two of you were sitting next to each other. It didn't matter what you talked about. It was always different. Usually it was about Suguru. 
“He waited until the sun set and it was dark out. I didn't really understand why. Anyway, he got on one knee and when I turned around he had the ring out.”
“It was because of the people I’m sure. Suguru was a private guy.” 
You’re picking at a loose thread on the couch, quietly listening to Satoru. 
“I helped him pick out the ring, you know. He was so indecisive. There were two options we narrowed it down to, he ended up asking all your friends what they thought you would like more.�� 
Suguru sees your shoulders shake and he thinks for a second you’re crying, but when you lift your head up he sees a tiny grin on your face. 
“He’s ridiculous. Would’ve loved anything he got.” 
“I know. He only wanted the best, though.”
Suguru loves to listen to the two of you talk, but he loves the silence you share just as much. Satoru always used to dread silence. Suguru thinks you’re bringing him down to earth. It’s nice. Suguru didn't think it was possible. 
“It’s hard. I can't sleep.” You confess to Satoru late at night.
“Why is that?” Satoru asks, but you know he knows the answer. 
“It’s impossible without him.” 
You aren’t aware, but Suguru is there each time you lay down. Sometimes he’ll lay beside you, but he rarely does. You always get a chill when he tries, so instead he sits across the room, listening to your breathing. He’s always loved the sound, but he finds he appreciates it more so now. 
“If you ever need company, I could spend the night on the couch again.” 
“Really?” 
You’re trying not to sound eager, Suguru can tell. He grins to himself as he watches your face light up. 
“I'd just have to bring over spare clothes, but I can.” 
People on the outside may think that something was blossoming between you and Satoru, but Suguru knew better. Satoru would never cross that line. At times, Suguru almost wished he would. He wanted you to find happiness again. And truly, who better to give it than Satoru? The two were so alike that Suguru knew you would be happy. But you wouldn’t do that to Satoru. You wouldn’t want him to feel like a placeholder. Suguru doesn’t know how Satoru feels, but he knows how you feel enough to be positive that nothing was starting between you. 
Satoru sleeps on your couch that night. Suguru notices it’s the first time you’ve slept through the entire night in weeks. You don’t wake up even once, not even when Suguru slides into bed beside you. 
Suguru keeps his eyes on you the whole night, mesmerized by the features on your face. You were so beautiful. He should’ve told you more often. 
~~~
It was going okay. Suguru thought you were healing. One night you have a terrible nightmare. He watches you in horror as you thrash and scream, wishing he could reach out to touch you. 
“Help! Help!”
Satoru is in your room moments later, holding your body against his. You twitch in his hold, body shaking in fear. Your eyes flutter open and you have to hold onto Satoru for several moments before you understand where you are. 
“It was just a dream.” Satoru speaks quietly to you.
Tears are streaming down your cheeks once you understand what’s happening. You have a tight grip on Satoru’s arms, as if they could keep you from floating away. 
“I was- Suguru, he, we needed,” 
“It was just a dream.” Satoru says once more.
It wasn’t a dream, not really. It was the accident. The scenes were flashing in your brain, plaguing you with memories. Suguru wishes it was a dream. The worst was already over, only now you were left trying to pick up the pieces.
Satoru sleeps on your floor each night afterward. Always beside the bed, ready in case you have another nightmare. No matter what, he never leaves. 
Each time you had a nightmare, Satoru would reach his hand up and squeeze yours, reminding you that the worst part was over. He pretends not to see the scars your fingernails leave in his skin.
~~~
Suguru watches as you experience life. Finding your first gray hair, he was even there when you bought your first new car. They were all things he should have been experiencing with you, if only he was alive. 
If you asked Suguru the day he died if he regretted his decision to cover you in the accident, he would say no in an instant. It was the same now, all these years later. 
You never move on from him, not really at least. There were men that passed through your life, but you never marry again. 
Suguru wanted you to find love again, but you were always more stubborn than he knew what to do with.
And when the time came for you to pass, he was there too. The hospital room didn't feel the same as his did, yours was much more warm and happy. That was what it was supposed to be like when you lived a full life. All of your loved ones gathered around you, crying as they held you. You don’t cry. You’re ready. You’ve been preparing for it for a while now. You have weathered skin and a full heart. You have smile lines now, and Suguru thinks you’ve never looked more perfect. 
Suguru stands by the door, watching as everyone says their goodbyes. He feels tears begin to drip from his eyes. He knows it only means he gets to see you sooner, but he’s mourning your death just as much as he would if he was alive. He wanted you to continue living. You still had so much to experience, Suguru wanted you to have it all. 
The last member of your family leaves the room, but you have one visitor left. The doctor smiles at the visitor before pulling the door closed behind the two of you, giving you privacy. 
“Thank you, darling.” Satoru says, smiling at her. 
The door shuts and Satoru is hobbling over to you, lowering himself down next to your bed. He's in relatively good condition for someone of his age. 
“Hello.” He squeezes your hand, if Suguru looks close enough he can still see the crescent shaped marks caused by your nails on his hands. 
Scars proving your love of Suguru on another man’s body. 
“You’re here.” You speak.
“Of course I’m here.” 
The room is silent as Satoru takes in your presence. The air is heavy, partly from sadness, but also from the memories and love everyone had left you with. You had lived a long life. 
“Are you excited to see him?” Satoru asks. 
You look down and fiddle with your ring, the same ring Suguru had picked out all those years ago. 
“I am.” 
“When you see him tell him I said hi.” Satoru could say much more than that, maybe even a joke from his childhood, but more than anything he just missed his friend.
“I will, I swear.” 
“I can’t believe the two of you are going before me.” Satoru’s messing with you now, Suguru walks closer so he can catch the glint in Satoru’s eyes. 
“Don’t you worry, your time is coming.” You chuckle to yourself. 
“Is that a threat?” Satoru leans in close to you, the act intimate in a way that only appears between friends that have endured years of life together.
“Maybe. I think I’m going to haunt you for the rest of your life.” You tease.
“I hope you do.” Satoru’s tone is heavier as he speaks, a nugget of honesty leaking through. 
“Thank you for being so good to me Satoru, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you as much as you were there for me.” Regret is dripping from your words.
“I know you’re dying, but have you gone senile? You helped me as much as I helped you.” Satoru looks at you in disbelief. 
It was true. You had helped Satoru. It wasn’t in the same way he helped you, but instead you provided him multiple chances to relive his childhood. That was worth more than anything in the world to Satoru.
Satoru rubs his thumb along your hand. He sits with you through the silence. He's there with you as the doctor comes back in, voice soft as she asks you if you’re ready. You are, you have been for a long time. Satoru holds your hand, he doesn’t leave as the doctor turns off all the technology that’s assisting you in staying alive. 
Suguru would stay, but he has a date he can’t miss.
When you die, everything is empty around you. Your old body is inching by, walking aimlessly. 
“Sweetheart.” A voice like velvet fills your ears.
You whip around, jaw and eyes wide open as you come face to face with the love of your life. 
“Suguru!” You cry. 
Suguru’s smile is relaxed on his face as he walks up to you, embracing you once more. He could finally touch you. He had been dreaming of this moment for years. 
The second his skin hits yours, it's like a ripple effect. Your skin slowly rejuvenates, your body regressing until it resembles what it looked like the night he died. You were young again. 
Suguru holds you for what feels like eternity before you pull away. He tries not to frown, reminding himself that he can touch you again whenever he feels like it now. 
“I missed you!” Your lash line is holding on a thin thread, tears welling up, nearly pouring out. 
Suguru doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t think he can put into words how much he missed you. 
“Oh, and Satoru said-“
“Hi, I know. I heard him.” Suguru reaches a hand up and skims your cheek with his thumb.
He no longer feels cold.
“You heard him? You were there?”
“Of course I was. I always was.” 
Suguru chuckles to himself at the expression on your face. It's a shock, for sure. You had no reason to believe he stayed with you. Suguru could have moved on at any point in time, but he wouldn’t. Not without you by his side.
“I love you.” He says it the same way he used to say it, and you finally break down. 
Tears stream down your face as you pull him in for a kiss. 
“Come on, let’s make up for all the lost time.” Suguru murmurs in your ear, wrapping his arm around yours.
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gothicchildofthenight ¡ 3 months ago
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Dead-Bird
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FEM DNI‼️ (She/her, She/they, etc.) - you’ll be blocked.
request: “hihi ! can you write rodrick x ftm reader thats just like , treated as one of the guys in rodricks friend group and has a sense of belonging , then heather outs the reader or something n rodrick stands up for them (???) im not sure where im going with this request u can interpret it however u want”
summary: moving to plainview for a fresh start while you’re transitioning. you meet rodrick heffley, resident emo, and become inseparable. what happens when heather hills gets jealous thats he’s turned all his attention on you?
descriptions: ftm!reader, intended for a black reader but can be read by any race, rodrick might be ooc (??), i made heather really mean (and homophobic 😭) but in reality i have no hate to her HER ACTRESS IS GORGINA, slur drop (f word), maybe the reader a girly kid sorry if that upsets anyone, cursing, throwing up (only happens once and i don’t think it’s detailed), let me know if i missed anything!!
a/n: yall, i know i said friday, but circumstances change (especially when baby siblings are sick asf) so i’m sorry. you’re allowed to yell at me in the comments!! BUT ITS FINALLY HERE‼️ pls let me know if you like it, and if you think i should change anything. i can always improve!!
word count: 8.29k (i got carried away 😭)
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For as long as you can remember, you knew you didn’t feel right with who you were. You wore the dresses, the skirts, joined the girls line when you were split off and you were ok with it, but it never felt right. You wanted to get your hands dirty, skin your knee, and you could do all of that with the girls, but you wanted to do it with the boys.
Your parents seemed to acknowledge this and your family just labeled you a tomboy. It wasn’t until your last year of middle school that you realized who you were, what you were. You were a boy, you were trans.
After going back and forth with yourself, you go to your parents with tears streaming down your face. With the way you and your parents were raised, it didn’t seem like they were going to be accepting.
“Are you done blubbering?” Your mom had asked you, which made you cry even more because you didn’t know if that could be good or bad. “We knew this could be a possibility with you just wanting to be with little boys.”
“Just because your grandparents have a skewed perspective on gender doesn’t mean we do.” Your dad joined in with a hand on your shoulder.
And with that started your transition journey. First with therapy, then doctor visits, and finally testosterone. When you started taking testosterone (end of sophomore year), you and your parents moved to give you a fresh start. With their careers, they could work anywhere as long as they could travel.
Plainview was just that, plain, but it got the job done so you can lay low. You couldn’t even point it out on a map, but it seemed like a great place to get a fresh start. Family homes, mom and pop shops, and maybe 6 schools around. No one knows you, seeing as you moved almost cross-country, so perfect.
Your first day wasn’t anything like you imagined. You thought you would be clocked immediately, especially since in the rush to move and get enrolled in school you had forgotten to get your haircut. You lucked out though, because the only reason someone (besides a teacher) came to talk to you was because of your Pearl Jam shirt.
That was the day you met Rodrick Heffley, resident “bad boy” with a band that wasn’t shit (you could say that seeing as you were in it) and a taste for rock and metal. That’s who came to talk about your shirt.
“You listen to Pearl Jam?” He asked, and you were immediately on the defense.
You knew you didn’t exactly look the part of emo metalhead, you had heard it your whole life growing up. “Listen to your normal music,” was a common one, and you won’t lie, it hurt. Especially from the popular white kids because it was just another tally mark against you.
“Yes? What about it?” You snapped.
“Woah, didn’t know I touched a nerve,” his face had reddened a little, but besides that it didn't change. “I was just gonna ask your favorite song.”
“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I like Why Go from the Ten album.”
“Cool, cool, that’s a good one.” And then you both just stood there staring at each other. “Do you want to come over to my house after school?”
“I don’t even know you, kid,” you chuckled, “what are you, a kindergartener?”
“Well excuse me for trying to be nice.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m Rodrick.”
He held out his hand, which you hesitantly shook. “I’m (Y/N).”
“So are you coming over or what?”
And just like that he became one of the most important people in your life– along with his best friends; Drew, Ward, Chris, and Ben. Present day, you are never without Rodrick, and he, you. It doesn’t take a lot to convince the other to do something you probably shouldn’t, which leads to you guys getting in trouble a lot.
Like how one time towards the end of junior year in the middle of the night, Rodrick and you snuck out for a carnival almost 2 hours away. You had been relaxing at home, reading, when you heard little tinks coming from your window. You knew it was Rodrick throwing rocks at your window. He always did that when he’d sneak out of his house to come to yours.
“What the hell do you want?” You jokingly whisper-yelled as you opened your window.
“Come to a fair with me!” He whispered back.
“Last time I checked, the summer fair didn’t come until after school ended?”
“Because it’s not the one in Plainview, it’s the one in Huntington! Just come on!” He groans.
“First of all, I’m in pajamas!” You motioned up and down yourself. “Second of all, that’s almost two hours away!”
“So what, you’ve snuck out with me before! What makes this time any different? Come on, (Y/N), live a little!”
“Fuck it, fine!” and you closed your window to change. Your parents were long gone asleep, so you doubt they’d check on you, meaning you were in the clear.
You settled on baggy pants and a short sleeve, which is what you almost always wear, before you jumped out your window (you were on the second floor, yea, but your house wasn’t that big so it wasn’t a huge jump). Rodrick was waiting in his van, so you climbed into the passenger seat and set off.
You took a mini nap on the way, but after you woke up, you guys didn't shut up. From school to new albums, you talked about it all. You guys always were like this, (still were) even though at this point you’d only known each other a couple months. It scared you a little, how close you two had gotten in such a little period of time, mainly because you don’t want him to drop you because of who you were before.
“We’re here!” He pulled into a parking spot. You both climbed out of the van and met in front of it. “You brought your wallet, right?”
“Hanging with you? Of course not.” You deadpanned, before pulling out your wallet with a smile. “Why would I go to a fair without my wallet?”
He just rolled his eyes, slung his arm around your neck and walked to the ticket booth. Once in the fair, you guys set a plan to leave around 2:00 so you can get back in time for school.
You run around together, ride to ride, concession stand every chance you can get, and then barfing into a trash can. “I will never sneak out with you again.”
“Sure, ok,” Rodrick scoffed. “Come on, I want to ride the ferris wheel before going home!”
“Sure,” you rolled your eyes as you wiped your mouth, “just let me finish tossing my organs into this dumpster.”
“Let's go, smart ass.”
Surprisingly, there wasn’t a long line for the wheel. You’re on it in 5 minutes, and at the top in another 5.
“Told you it was worth it.” Rodrick teased as you looked out to the neon fair lights.
“Yea, yea, whatever,” you mumbled, too busy looking out at the eye widening view.
There’s a moment of silence. “Y’know, I’m glad we met each other.”
“Ew, don’t get all sentimental on me. Especially on a ferris wheel, that's just cringey.” You joke.
“I’m being serious!” He sighs. “Like I love the band, but I think me and you got closer in the span of a few months than me and them since middle school. It’s crazy.”
“Yea, sure, ok, dude,” you look back out to the lights. You couldn’t look him in the eyes because you had this warm feeling in your gut that you couldn’t place.
Rodrick doesn’t allow you to, though, as he grabs your face in one hand to make you look at him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I want you to say it,” he stares into your eyes, seeming to search for something.
“Say what, jackass?” You feel your face catch on fire in the dark of the night.
“That I’m your best friend.” He looks so serious, and his eyes never leave yours.
“You’re my best friend,” you roll your eyes with a grin, “can you let me go now?”
“We’ll work on it.” He pats the side of your face and then faces the lights outside the wheel.
When you're both off the ferris wheel, you’re headed back home. The car ride home was silent, you in your own head and Rodrick seemed tired. You offered for him to stay over and sleep until school starts, but he declines, knowing his parents will wake him up in the morning.
You pull up to your house but just sit there for a second. “It was a bunch of fun, as always. Til we sneak out again.”
“See ya,” he smiles and lightly punches your shoulder.
“See ya, dude,” and you head to your house.
When you see him pull off, you lightly close your front door. As you turn around, your soul leaves your body.
“I don’t even want to know,” your mom holds her hand up to silence you. “Phone, now.”
You sigh, but do it.
It seemed that’s what happened with Rodrick, too, so for the rest of the school year you and Rodrick could only contact each other at school. He still snuck over, that wasn't going to stop.
You don’t regret leaving with him that night, because you had never had someone willingly be that close to you.
—
Currently, you’re all huddled up in the hot attic that is his room, but it was the only place without younger kids so you don’t complain much.
“Dude, I thought this year was gonna be it!” Rodrick complains as he lays upside down on his bed.
“Oh, it’s gonna be it, alright,” Ben rolls his eyes and throws a paper ball in Rodricks direction. “It’s going to be the year I finally strangle you if you mention Heather Hills one more time.” We all chuckle at how true it was.
Right now, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about Heather Hills. Even though you had come in the middle of junior year, it was quick knowledge that he had a crush on her since middle school. At first it was cute, but after some unforeseen circumstances, you actually hated hearing her name. It wasn’t like you had a crush on him (It was), but the fact that she didn’t give him the time of day, and even when she did it was just to make fun of him or to have him do something.
“I second that, it’s fucking annoying,” you push him off the bed, seeing as you were on it right next to him.
“Ow, you dick!” he sits up and rubs his head.
“We’re, like, four months from graduating, if she wanted you, she would’ve said it.”
“Yea but-” Ward cuts him off.
“But nothing, bro, she don’t want your ass.”
It’s what you’ve been telling him this whole time, but you didn’t want to be too pressed about it because you didn’t want him to think you like her. You didn’t like her, you liked the one who liked her. You hadn’t realized it until you saw Heather sweetening him up one time and it hurt to watch– and not in a disgusted way.
You had no idea about your sexuality, you knew you liked boys even before you transitioned, but as you became more comfortable with yourself girls weren’t so bad either. You had been on a few dates with mostly girls (there weren’t many out guys in a small town, who knew?), but no one was Rodrick.
“I mean, I know, subconsciously,” he points to his head, “but she has this way of being in your head, no matter how mean she is.”
“Blah blah blah, bruh we don’t caaaarreee!” You roll your eyes and fall back on his bed. “She’s probably going to, like, Harvard or some shit and gonna marry rich. She doesn’t have time for loser guys like ourselves unless we can do something for her. It’s been that way since middle school, and it’ll be that way til the end of time”
“Major harsh, dude,” Drew pipes up.
“Whatever,” You get up and grab your backpack. “I’m going home, see you bozos tomorrow.”
You know why it bothers you so much, but you didn’t think you went that far. Hell, even Ward said something, but you were the one who was being “major harsh”? You roll your eyes as you stomp off to your house.
“Major harsh, my ass,” you murmur to yourself.
—
Tomorrow comes faster than you’d like. It wasn’t like you blew up on the guys, but you were pissed that you had been shut down. You kind of wanted to avoid them and go straight to class, but when you exit your house you see Rodricks van. The ride to school was pretty quiet except for the “good morning,” you all exchanged amongst yourselves.
“You were right,” Rodrick nudges you. When you give him a confused look, he goes on, “Heather is never gonna want me, and I’m taking myself off the market for other babes.”
“Oh, all those poor girls, saved,” you chuckle. Now you kind of feel bad, “but seriously, my bad if I went too far with what I was saying. I don’t have an excuse for what I said, but I am sorry.”
“Nah, I needed that good kick in the ass so I could wake up. Thanks, bro.” He playfully punches your shoulder.
“No problem, bro.”
As we pull up to school, you see Heather and her friends around their red convertible bug. You didn’t know whose it was, it was passed around more than a blunt in your group. Every morning they were there, and every morning Rodrick went to talk to them, talk to her, like clockwork.
“So are we skipping today, boys?” Rodrick suggests.
In a unison of ‘Hell Yea’s, you were the voice of reason. “Fuck no.”
They all groan, as they usually do when you’re right. We’re walking away from the van as you explain, “Y’all don’t have enough brain cells or credits to afford to skip. If yall want to blow this place, ya gotta graduate. You don’t even have to have honors.”
“Whatever, nerd,” Rodrick shoves you with a chuckle. “You can be a suck up and stay all day, but we’re outta here.”
“You can suck up on my balls, jackass,” you laugh and shove him back.
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he shoves back.
“You’d love that!” but you don’t push him, you look in front of you.
You expected to see the red car, but you saw the stairs. You had passed the car?
You look behind you, and you still see the group talking about someone cheating on someone’s boyfriend, but you notice Heather Hills looking at you.
This wasn’t the first time Rodrick had ignored Heather for you, but that was at lunch. He always talked to her in the morning. You don’t know why, but you knew that this was her last straw.
When you had first moved here, you weren’t on her radar until you had talked to him. She was just standing off to the side and you didn’t realize it then, but he was just talking to her and stopped to talk to you. You could feel her glare, but when you looked at her she gave you a sugary sweet smile. That wasn’t the last time you would see that fake smile, but after this morning you knew it would be.
—
“I don’t know what you told him, but you need to untell him.”
The voice wasn’t unfamiliar to you, but you weren’t used to it being directed at you.
“Hi, Heather, how are you on this beautiful day?” You smile at her, though it was probably closer to a grimace.
“Cut the shit, you heard me.” She growls as you put your stuff in your locker.
“Why does it have to be me saying anything to him? Maybe he actually grew some balls and a brain.”
“You’re like a lost puppy around him, of course you said something.”
“Well, Heather,” you huff as you drop your bag and face her, “he used to follow you around like a lost puppy and I got sick of it because you were using him. I don’t know why it bothered me so much, but it did, so I told him that.”
“I know why,” she leans closer to your face with a whisper. “It’s because you’re a gay little bitch who hopes he looks in your direction but he wouldn’t even spit near you. I see how you look at him, but just remember he looks at me like that.”
“Ok,” you roll your eyes. “Why do you care so much? You admitted several times that you don’t like him.”
“He needs to like me, not the other way around. It gives other guys the idea that they can be with me and I can get gifts out of it. So if you don’t fix this, I can get so much dirt on you it’d make your head spin.”
“I think the bleach fumes are finally getting to your brain,” you scoff, trying not to seem nervous. You didn’t think that she could get to your secret, but that bitch has power in high places. But you had come so far without being outed, so you didn’t think it’d happen this close to your escape. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not gonna do that because you’re a bitch who doesn’t deserve any attention.”
She slams your locker in your face, “You’ll regret that.” And as she walks away you roll your eyes and mumble a “bitch”.
She doesn’t even want him, but I can’t have him? Whatever, bitch.
—
You decided to keep your little interaction from Rodrick and the gang because you knew it’d open up a) what she could find on you and b) did Heather actually like Rodrick and she’s lying? You just let them lead the conversation as you try to rationalize with yourself.
How would she find out your trans? You’ve been stealth for a year and your school medical records are locked up tight. She can’t out anything but you being gay and even that was a little chest tightening. At least you’ll still be a man, even if it was a gay one. Being outed as trans could shatter people’s perception of you and you’ll be that weird “girl” again.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Rodrick asks you and you realize you’re the only two in the van now.
“Nothing, just exhausted. I need to be asleep right now,” you pretend to rub your eyes.
“Whatever you say, dude,” he sighs, but puts his hand on your shoulder and looks you in the eyes. “I’m here whenever you wanna talk, you seem to have a lot on your mind.”
It makes you freeze. It’s not like he isn’t always like this, he’s your best friend, but it doesn’t help after your conversation with Heather. He does this with every guy in the group, he may put on a front of being a dick to his brother, Greg, but he really cares for his friends. You have to convince yourself that this was just that, nothing more.
“Eyes on the road, weirdo,” you shrug his arm off with a nervous laugh. “I told you I was fine, I’m just tired.”
“Ok, dude,” he rolls his eyes.
Before you know it, he drops the rest of the guys off at their houses. You’re usually the last one to get dropped off since more often than not you’re the first one to be picked up. But when Rodrick passes your house, you have more than a few questions.
“Where the hell are you taking me?” You sigh.
“Obviously you won’t tell me what’s actually wrong, so we’re going to hang out til that frown turns upside down!” He smiles as he passes his house, too.
“How did I become friends with such a cornball? Aren’t you supposed to be the resident bad boy, go back to that.”
“You know you love me,” he smirks.
More than you know, that’s the reason I’m in this mess! You almost say, but stick with, “Sure, whatever you say.”
You know exactly what he’s going to do, you guys do it every time one of y’all are going through it. Head to the gas station to get slushies and snacks, then go out to your favorite clearing in the woods. He even does it with Greg sometimes, even though he likes to act like he hates his younger brothers.
“Isn’t the point of a slushy to mix all of the flavors together?” Rodrick rolls his eyes.
“We have this conversation every time we come here, I get two flavors that compliment each other! All of those flavors confuse your mouth and you lose taste buds.”
“You lie just like my mother, which means you lie like shit.” And for that you slap his shoulder. “OW!”
“Don’t talk about Susan like that!” You say, jokingly offended. You go to hit him again, but he grabs your hand.
“You’re a fucking nut case.”
“OMG!” You hear an all too familiar voice excitedly yelp. “I thought I heard your voice!”
“Oh, hey Heather.” Rodick turns to talk to her, forgetting to let go of your hand. “What are you doing in here?”
“My friends wanted to stop in here to get some junk.” She waves her hand behind her and rolls her eyes. “I obviously don’t eat stuff like that, I mean, look at me.” Rodrick doesn’t even glance down when she motions at herself.
“Good for you, me and (Y/N) are actually in here for some snacks, too.”
She finally looks at you, and then at you and Rodricks combined hands. You squirm under her stare and take your hand out of Rodricks. He looks at you in seeming confusion, but doesn’t say anything.
“I didn’t see you there, hey (Y/N)!” She has a smile on her face, but you can see in her eyes the amount of hatred she has for you.
“Hey, Heather…” You almost whisper, and then turn to seem busy with your slushy.
“Well, we should get out of here, bye Heather.”
“Oh, yeah, I think my friends went back to the car, so I should head out, too.” She turns to leave, but looks back over her shoulder and waves seductively. “Bye, Rodrick!”
When you hear the front door bell ring, you finally release the breath you had been holding in. “Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself.
“What was that?” Rodrick turns to you with a smile and points behind him. “She’s never willingly came up to me unless she needs something. And she just wanted…conversation?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” You paint on a smirk even though your heart is racing. She had seen you with Rodrick, holding hands (completely his fault!), and he couldn’t be any less interested in her! You just know your fate is sealed.
“Well, let’s get this shit paid for and go.” He grabs up your food and you grab the slushies.
With everything paid for, you guys hop back into the van and head into the trail a few blocks down. It wasn’t anything official, but you hadn’t gotten in trouble for being out here, so yall just kept going.
You park the van and head into the back, opening the doors for some fresh air.
“So are you ready to tell me what’s up?” Rodrick asks after a few sips of his slushy abomination.
“I told you that I’m just exhausted.” You keep up your front.
“And I told you that you lie like my mom,” he sighs. “So you might as well just spill it.”
“It’s just something that me and my family have to deal with, you don’t have to worry about it!” You know if you bring your family into it, he’ll stop pushing it because he knows your parents don’t play.
“Ok, ok, I’ll let it go.” He raises his hand in defense.
You don’t respond, and you guys are submerged into silence once again. You exchange looks when you don’t think the other is looking, but besides that you take in the forest around you.
Heather could never experience these moments with Rodrick and understand how precious it is. Rodrick has always been the weird “bad boy” (people literally only say this because of his clothes and that makes you roll your eyes) who some of the girls wanted but if it got out they did like him, they’d be made fun of. You see how some of the girls look at him when he isn’t looking, and it hurts your heart. You know they have more of a chance than you ever would.
But with you, he was never like this. He was the goofy, caring friend who’d drop everything if you said the word. Heather only sees him as an object that gives her affection, but you see him as he truly is; a guy who loves and just wants it back. He just wants to be seen.
“Y’know you’re my best friend, right?” You blurt before you can think about it.
“Only took you a year to be genuine about it,” he nudges your shoulder.
“What?”
“The ferris wheel.” He states like you’re just supposed to know. And you do.
“You still remember that?” You gape.
“Anyway, yes I am your best friend, just like how you’re mine.” He grins at you, and then he drops it, “you’re not planning anything are you?”
“Oh my god, a guy can’t express his appreciation for his best friend?” You throw your hands up.
“I’m watching you,” he squints his eyes and points at you.
You get a text from your mom wondering where you are, and that’s the end of your little outing with Rodrick.
When he drops you home, Heather is the furthest thing from your mind, even though you know holding Rodricks hand (even though it wasn’t even purposely!) would be a slight against you.
—
Over the next two weeks, Heather's empty threat went to the back burner of your mind. If she wanted to out you, it would’ve happened by now. I’m safe, you sighed in relief.
Rodrick continued not to go up to her in the morning, but if she talked to him he definitely talked back. It seemed to calm her attitude toward you now, but it still was a hot seat around her. Like now, she’s passing around flyers for her party this weekend and intentionally passed by you.
“Rodrick, you’re definitely coming to my party this weekend, right?” She bats her eyelashes. “I need your band Soiled Diper to play!”
“It’s Löded Diper,” you correct and she glares at you, “and when have you ever wanted us to play anywhere near you?”
“Us?” She scoffs at you. “I just want the main band, not some wannabe.”
“Woah,” Rodrick stops her. “(Y/N) is an actual part of the band, so no him, no band.”
“Him? If that’s what you wanna say, sure.” And to the untrained ear it could just be her upset that he isn’t going along to exclude you, but you know what she means. As you perk up and look in her eyes, she’s already looking at you with a knowing smirk.
She knows. FUCK how does she know?
“I’m fine with not going, Rod,” you try to sway him. This cannot be fucking happening.
“No, it’s either all of us or none of us.”
Of course now he wants to be a fucking hero right now. He doesn’t get that this is social suicide FOR ME! Social homicide? Not important right now.
“Ok,” she has that sugary sweet fake smile. “Don’t come, then. Remember what I said.”
That last part was for you, you know it, and your blood runs cold. Fuck.
The rest of the day you’re on the edge of your seat, thinking what she might do. How the fuck did she even find out? You weren’t on social media much pre-transition, so barely any photos of you before exist. And like you said, your medical records were locked up tight.
Whatever, you try to convince yourself. She won’t do anything! She would’ve already.
You make it home with no one running around talking about your biggest secret, so your anxiety has allowed you to breathe again.
You decide to finally talk to your mom about this because who else will understand?
“You’re right to be afraid, but you’re also right about her doing it when she finally found something on you.” Your mom rubs your hair as you lay in her lap.
“It’s like I can’t get into her mind and I seriously want to. Like what is she planning?” Your thoughts literally won’t shut up. You haven’t had to worry about stuff like this for close to 2 years, and now its like your whole world is about to collapse
“For her sake, I hope nothing because I’m not above beating a little girl's ass!” And you know she’s being for real. Your mom doesn’t play around.
“Mom,” you roll your eyes.
“So, she thinks you like Rodrick…What’s up with that?”
“You know the answer if you’re asking,” you sigh.
“Do you want any advice on that? I say you should go for it.” Your mom shrugs.
“Absolutely not, because if this does come out I don’t want him weirded out by me being trans and gay.” You don’t even know if you are gay gay, but you know it’d make you that if you ask him out.
“I think you’re safe, but if something does blow, I’m in your corner.” She holds up her fist playfully to show it.
“Thank you, Mom.” You finally felt at peace with the whole thing. You trust your mom and feel like it will all blow over.
If only you knew.
The next morning, you walk with a pep in your step. You decide to walk to school, texting Rodrick you didn’t need a ride. It took a little longer to walk than drive, so you knew they’d beat you there.
When you finally showed up, people were staring at you, but it didn’t bother you much. People looked at you and the gang weirdly all the time, it just happened. It was when you finally made your way inside that all hell broke loose.
Random whispers were rampant through the hall, but when you walked by it would stop. Whatever, they were probably just talking about what you were wearing like always. You shrugged and went to find the guys.
You were right in front of them in the cafeteria and about to speak when that sugary voice stopped you, “Hey, [Redacted]!” It exclaimed.
You could’ve thrown up right then and there. You whip around to face Heather, “What the hell did you just call me?”
“Should I tell her or are you guys going to be good friends?”
“Guys, what is she talking about?” You turn to them and the look on their faces say it all.
They Know. Everyone knows.
Ben turns his phone around and you have to will yourself to not spill your breakfast out onto the concrete. It’s a screenshot from one of your parents' private Facebooks from two or three years ago with a title that stated your deadname.
The “girl” in the picture was going to homecoming, and it was obvious that it was you. Your face was softer, caked with makeup, and your hair was longer. The caption had your name and said that you were indeed going to homecoming.
“This picture was private, how the fuck?” You were whispering to yourself. You’re frozen in place, you can’t look anywhere but Ben’s phone.
“How could you hide this from your friends?” Heather fake gasps. “Pretending to be a boy? Going into the boys bathroom and locker room? What a freak!” and her whole group laughs. When you didn’t respond, she kept going, “Like, can you guys believe it? She’s pretending to be a boy to get close to you, and I even heard she had a little crush on one of you!”
That made you bark out a sob. Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy-
“It’s crazy! Right, Rodrick?” and that snaps you out of it.
You glance at him, and he looks angry. Probably at you for lying to him. You darted away, looking for an exit because all you can think about is going home. You hear your name called after you, but you don’t care.
—
“What the hell are you doing home? Classes literally just started.” Your mom asks as she’s cuddled up with your dad. You don’t answer her, and just run up to your room, sobbing.
“Woah, woah woah, hey!” They get up to go after you.
When you get to your room, you don’t close your door knowing they’re after you. You shut your phone down and just throw yourself onto your bed, trying to stop your tears.
“Son, what’s wrong? What happened at school?” My dad knocks on the open door.
“Heather Hills,” you say through your pillow. Even if your dad didn’t get it, your mom did.
“She didn’t…”
“She did though, Mom!” You cry out, turning to face them. “She outed me to the whole school! She somehow found one of your Facebooks, got into it and found an old picture of me going to homecoming, and she shared it with the whole school!”
“Are you serious?” Your dad balls up his fist.
“Not only that, but she said that I was pretending to be a guy! Said I was doing it to get close to Rodrick, basically told him I liked him, and made me seem like this big ass weirdo!”
“We need to do something about this,” your mom says, and she sounds pissed. “This has to be some sort of harassment!”
“Your mother is right, we need to contact the school-”
“NO, please,” you start. “What’s done is done, I don’t want this bigger than it is!”
“(Y/N)!-”
“Mom, please listen to me!” You’re exasperated at this point. “Heather has the whole school behind her. Her parents are RICH, so if we try to do anything, it’ll just make everything worse!”
“I don’t give a fuck about her parents! She hurt my baby and she needs to be held accountable!”
“I don’t want to be in the middle of any more drama!” You groan. “I just want to figure this out quietly and on my own. I don’t want to talk to anyone about it and I just want to be left alone!”
“Ok, ok,” your dad sighs and puts a hand on your head. “If that’s what you want, we won’t push it,” he turns to your mom, “won’t we?”
“Yea, I guess,” she rolls her eyes, but gives a weak smile. “But at any point you need any help or she does anything else, we’re in your corner.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“Get some rest, son,” your dad pats your shoulder. “You look like you need it.”
“I’ll try.”
But you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. You avoid your phone because you didn’t want to be contacted by anyone, but especially Rodrick. You didn’t want to know his disgust with you, didn’t want to know how much he thought that Heather was right.
Without the distraction of your phone, your room and the house was too quiet. You could hear your parents downstairs, trying not to be angry about your situation and watching television. Your mind keeps replaying you looking at Ben’s phone, ears ringing in anger and worry. You’re so horrified, afraid you’ve lost all of your friends. You were supposed to graduate without anyone finding out. What was the point of a fresh start if you were just gonna have to deal with all that you wanted to avoid at your old home?
You hear someone knock on your front door, and even being that far away from it you heard Rodricks voice. This time you can’t stop your stomach from lurching and you run to the bathroom.
As you flush the toilet, you hear the door close and footsteps up the stairs. That makes you pray on the bathroom floor to anything that could hear you to not make you talk to him yet.
“Hey, baby, you alright?” Your mom’s voice fills you with relief and seems to calm your stomach.
“No,” you say truthfully. You didn’t feel like lying right now, “I feel like everything is over for me.”
“You heard him, didn’t you?”
“Not what he said, but I heard his voice,” you admit.
“Then I think you should answer your phone.” And with that, she leads you back to your room, kisses your forehead, and goes back downstairs.
—
You don’t turn your phone back on until the next day. You still felt sick, and no matter how much you tried to eat you just couldn’t. You stayed home from school and your parents didn’t argue, but they still had to go out for work. Not a full trip, but they had to go to the next town over.
You had less messages than you thought you would, but it’s still crazy. Drew, Ward, Chris, Ben, and even Bill messaged you, but you didn’t care about all of them because one name caught your eye. Rodrick.
It was four messages; are you home??, answer me!, i’m coming over. were the first three, but the last message was a video.
It starts staring at the floor, and then it’s pointed to a group of people. You can make out you, the gang, and Heather behind you. You take off running, but the recording doesn’t stop there.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Rodrick stands up and gets in Heather's face.
“What?” she laughs in disbelief.
“You heard what I said!”
“Are you seriously defending her over me? I thought you liked me?!” You can hear the fakeness in her voice.
“That was before you decided to spread lies about my friend! He has done nothing to you!” the emphasis on the “he” makes your eyes widen. “You’re gonna stop talking shit about my best friend to my face! You’re such a fake bitch! I don’t know how I ever liked you…”
“Don’t tell me you’re seriously picking her over me? You must be more homo than her to like that wannabe boy.”
“Are you fucking serious?” The rest of the guys pipe up and start to surround Heather.
“He is a guy, and if you think anything other than it, you must be stupider than I thought,” Ben steps up.
“And so what if I like him? Just know I don’t like you, not anymore.” Rodrick is the angriest you’ve ever seen him, it’s kind of hot scary.
“Whatever, you’re all just losers. Lets go,” she turns and walks off with her crew.
That’s where the video ends.
You couldn’t stop rewatching it in amazement. He had stood up to Heather Hills for you without hesitation. Had said he liked you to Heather Hills. To basically the entire school, if this video has already gone around.
You debate whether or not you wanted to talk to him, but your need for your best friend wins over your need to hide. You slip on your shoes and head out.
You live a little over 5 minutes away from Rodrick even though he drives you guys everywhere. You know you could’ve told him to come over to your house, but it’s nice to finally get some fresh air. Plus, his mom was always nice to see when you went over his house.
When you get there, you see his van parked in the driveway near the garage. You have to hype yourself up to knock on the front door, but once you do it’s like a wave of nausea comes crashing over you.
I can’t do this, oh my god. What have I-
Before you can finish your thoughts, the door opens. You half expect it to be Rodrick, but it’s just Greg.
“Hey, kid.” You do a little wave as if you haven’t met him before. Whenever you come over, you tend to see Greg and Rowley, too. Most of the time they’re just in the living room, but they sometimes come up to the attic just to get chewed out by Rodrick, especially when it’s just you two up there.
“Hey, (Y/N),” he smiles, “where’ve you been?”
“Yknow.” You wring your hands. “Around.”
You can barely get words out. Does Greg know? Did Rodrick tell his family about what his best friend is?
“Rodrick should be upstairs in his room.” Greg moves out of the way so you can step into the house. “He’s been moping up there since yesterday, I don’t even think he’s left it today.”
“He didn’t go to school?” It’s not surprising, he’s always skipping, but you know it’s because of what went down yesterday.
“Nope,” Greg shakes his head. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you guys, because he only acts like this when he can’t see you, but I think you guys will work it out. It’s like me and Rowley, just less romantical.”
“W-what-” you sputter out. “I don’t-”
“Sure, whatever you want to tell yourself.” Greg cuts you off with an eye roll. “Like I said, he’s upstairs.”
“Thanks, kid.” Your face is on fire.
And with that, you mount the stairs to the attic. Is your crush on Rodrick really that obvious that even his family can see it? And with the way Greg was talking it seems to be reciprocated. You heard it come out of Rodrick’s own mouth, but what if he just said that so Heather could leave you alone?
You’re in front of his door before you can finish your thoughts. You knock, ready to get this over with.
“Mom, I told you I’ll be ok, just leave me alone!” You hear him call out.
“Not your mom, last time I checked.” You say, a soft smile grows on your face from hearing his voice.
You hear him leap up off of his bed and trip over something, but it doesn’t seem to phase him as he runs to open the door.
“(Y/N),” he breathes out.
“Hey,” you can barely look him in the face. “Can I come in?”
“Yea, yea, come in!” He pulls you through the door.
Once in his room, it’s like you’ve never set foot in it. You don’t know what to do, where to sit. It all feels new to you for some reason.
“Dude, just sit down somewhere.” Rodrick laughs at your newfound confusion.
You decide to sit on his bed, which you do every time you come over. You and Rodrick always sit on opposite ends of the bed so you can look at each other, which this time is no different.
You just sit there, staring at each other. You decide to break the ice. “It’s true, all of it. I don’t know how Heather got that picture, but I was a girl for most of my life up until now. Please, don’t hate me.”
“I’m not going to lie, it made me mad that I had to find out through Heather Hills,” he sighs, “but then again it’s none of my business. You were doing it to protect yourself, so I get it and I don’t have a right to be mad. I could never hate you over something like that though.”
You just sit there with your mouth open. You knew subconsciously that he couldn’t have hated you, but you had grown up hearing all the hatred people had for people like you. You had no choice to be on the defense when coming over here, no matter what you heard.
“I just-” You start. “I just, I know you’re my best friend, and I should’ve trusted you with this, but I couldn’t. I’ve never had anyone but my parents know. Their families don’t even know, that’s the whole reason we moved here.”
“Would you have ever told me?” He asks, kind of quiet.
“Maybe.” You shrug honestly. “I was too worried about trying to survive high school without a slip up to think that far ahead.”
“Oh,” is all he answers.
It’s another drowning silence. You’ve never had an awkward silence in your entire friendship, this is freaking you out.
“Did you watch the video I sent you?” Rodrick speaks up.
“Yea, it was the first thing I saw when I turned my phone back on.” Another beat of silence. “It was the only reason I came over here to talk to you.”
“Did you watch the whole thing?”
“Only a hundred times,” you smile evilly. “I love watching that barbie wannabe get put in her place.”
“Yea, that was great to do,” his voice lowers, “but that’s not what I was talking about.”
“I know.” You whisper and look him in the eyes.
You just sit there staring at each other, and then Rodrick looks down at your lips. It was so quick you could’ve missed it if you blinked, but you saw it. Just go for it.
“Are you going to kiss me, or just think about it?” You try to sound confident, but it ends up a quiet squeak.
His eyes widen, but he begins to inch over to you until you’re pressed up against each other. “Is this okay?” His whisper tickles your lips.
You just nod, eyes never leaving his. You don’t know who leans in first, but your lips are together in a flash. Your grip on his shirt is tight, as if when you let go it’ll all disappear. Your mouths almost move in unison, like you’re trying to devour the other. You can barely breath, feeling like this isn’t real. You dreamed about this moment for so long and now that it’s here it’s like you’re ascending.
You are the one who pulls away first, needing to breathe. Rodrick doesn’t seem like he wants to stop, kissing down your jaw to your neck. While you're breathing softly, you hear a knock at his door. That doesn’t stop Rodrick though.
“Rodrick,” you breath out as a warning.
“Hm,” he hums indifferently. Before you both know it, his door opens.
“Rodrick, you need to leave this- OH MY GOD!” His mother screams out.
“MOM!” Rodrick jumps away from you in fear and shock.
You’re all just stuck looking at both of them staring at each other before you break the silence.
“Hey, Ms. Susan…”
After that you are put through a lecture with his mom and dad. You guys can’t be upstairs alone without Greg being a buffer, door open at all times even with the other guys there. They, of course, texted your parents about what they found so that's gonna be fun to go home to. But you felt like none of that mattered because you got what you wanted. You didn’t lose your friends, and you even gained a boyfriend.
He offers to drive you home, which you take because you want to be close to him for a little longer. So you wave goodbye to his parents and get into the van.
You hold hands on the way to your house.
—
“We’re glad you decided to come back to school,” Rodrick squeezes your hand. “It’s been so boring.”
“First of all, I was gone one day,” you roll your eyes in fake annoyance. “And second of all, you literally didn’t even go yesterday!”
“But it’s always boring whenever I don’t get to see you, baby.” He wiggles his shoulders against yours.
All the guys groan in fake disgust. “Yall are so corny, break up already.” Ben gags.
“I didn’t even say anything!” You throw your hands up, taking one of Rodricks hands with you.
“Cringe by association.” And you roll your eyes in true annoyance.
“Are you sure you’re ready to go back?” Rodrick interrupts. “We could just go back to your house and hang out for the day.”
“I’m sure you’d love that,” you shove his arm, “but if I keep skipping, it’ll be like she won. Plus I’m not losing my straight A streak because of that bimbo.”
“Fine,” he huffs. “I can’t wait for the last day, school is so boring.”
“I thought without me it was boring?” You raise an eyebrow.
“You know what I mean.” He kisses your cheek.
“Yuck,” one of the guys laughs out behind your back.
“Shut the fuck up so we can get this day over with.” You flip them off.
You’re, of course, joking because you know you couldn’t have gone through this without them. After your talk with Rodrick, you all had a group hangout and talked through all of this. They let you know the whole time that they were 100% on your side. They were your boys and you were theirs.
Maybe the rest of the year won't be hell. You got the guy, smited the girl, and even if you were outed, you had all the friends you needed with you already. You were going to be fine.
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tainted-liquor ¡ 1 year ago
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'Tiny hands; Little Baby ...ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ ft. 42Miles
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...‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
✩ingredients: Sugar, kisses, and baby powder!
˙⟡TWs: Cussing, Miles speaks mostly Spanish, so ready ur spanishDict
✩A/N: Miles is soft when it comes to his children. Its not ooc, he was based off of MY sisters father. parents usually 'calm down' after having babies. pls don't start complaining
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When you think of the ideal father, you usually would think of two types of people. The happy-go-lucky super kind and outgoing person, or someone who balances both fun and order. You never in your life expected to be a mother, or even wanted kids as a matter of fact. But everything changed when you met him. Miles.
Admittedly, when you met in high school shit was rocky. Typical 'anti-social social' kid. Everybody knew him, but nobody was ever able to say they talked to him. But things slowly began to change as the school year passed, and you seemed to pop up more and more in each other's lives. Art projects, a shared interest in graffiti, seating charts in chem, and ending up at the same bodega during the wee hours of the night.
You waltzed into the small store, grabbing a tube of Pringles and a bottle of cherry Faygo. You had a project to get done within the next 5 hours and spent 3 days working nonstop so you wouldn't fail this semester. Your eyes were low and sleepy, your movement was slower than average and it looked like you had been crying. A lot. What is a girl supposed to do when she feels like her life is being drowned out by constant numbers and big words?
You waited by the counter, tapping away on your phone as you waited for the man behind the glass to finish making your chop cheese, slowly raising your head to see who just swung open the door. You made eye contact with Miles for a brief moment, nodding upward as a form of greeting before suddenly being startled. Miles's eyes widened for a moment, taking a tiny step back as he took in how sleepy you looked. Your hoodie wasn't even on properly, one arm completely off your shoulder and exposing a fraction of your black tank top to the world around you. "Well damn, nigga. I know I look like shit but don't make it obvious" you snorted, rolling your eyes as you dropped your head back to your phone screen.
"Oh, my bad. Just not used to seeing you outside of school" he shrugged, making his way to the counter to order his food and standing next to you in silence. You both tapped away on your phones, scrolling through your Instagram while you waited for your sandwich. There was nothing else to it, really. You both waved bye to each other as you left the store, silently building a smidge of a relationship compared to being just strangers. For the most part, it was like that at school too.
There was no real reason to talk to him, outside of a small hallway talk and a nod or a wave. And it stayed like that for a long time, until a random day in the school's library. Miles came strutting through the oak wood doors, seemingly pissed off as he slammed his supplies on a nearby table and started working silently. You side-eyed him, continuing to blast the music in your headphones until you felt a presence begin getting closer to you. You grabbed one of your AirPods, removing it from your ear as Miles stood over you.
"Hmm?" You hummed, looking up at him as you paused your music. He said nothing, only showing you a piece of paper with honors calculus work. "Do you need help?" you asked, scanning over the paper briefly before putting your AirPods in your case. He nodded, letting you take the paper from him as he leaned against the table. "Aight, sit down. I'm only doing one problem though" you muttered, scooting your chair over to make room for Miles.
When Miles left that table, you were closer than normal. You spent the rest of the afternoon helping him 'study' (talking to each other while he finished his work) and exchanging numbers and Instagram. "Good luck with your test!" You smiled, waving from across the room as he left the library. He gave you a nod before swiftly exiting, leaving people asking you left and right "What's Miles like?" You didn't think anything of it, at all.
You never would have imagined that that same boy would be the father of your child almost ten years later.
“MILES!” You shouted as loud as humanly possible. “SÍ? QUÉ HICE??” He shouted back from the kitchen. “MY FUCKING WATER BROKE START THE CAR!” You yelled as you stared down in absolute shock. And it was absolute chaos from there. Miles was practically stumbling out of the house as he ran to start the car, muttering curses as he ran up to get you out of your shared room.
Unfortunately for Miles, he had no idea what was happening. He was terrified but tried to be as supportive as possible through the entire situation. He was out cold for most of the delivery, having fainted 10 minutes in from anxiety. "Sir? SIR-!"
BOOM
But other than that, everything went amazing! He cried for 20 whole minutes when he got to hold his beautiful baby girl. "W-what...sniffle... are you going to...sob...name h-her, love?" he asked between a puddle of tears. You took a good look at your baby through soaked eyes, realizing she was born...quiet. She had one green eye, and one dark brown eye that was taken right from her father's face, a cute little button nose, and a head full of placenta-permed hair. She cried once the entire birth and remained silent the rest of the way, just like her nonchalant-ass daddy. "I'm thinkin' about...Asomi" you replied before bursting out in tears, causing Miles to burst even further into tears.
You attempted to reach for your baby, earning a watery glare from your boyfriend. "Nigga I JUST PUSHED HER OUT! GIMME MY BABY!" you giggled as you attempted to grab your daughter. "nuh-uh. I'm not done holding her" he retorted, flashing you a middle finger as he held Asomi even closer. "Miles Gonzalo Morales."
"Lo siento. Te amo mucho. TĂş eres muy bonita y inteligente" he quickly replied as he handed your daughter over.
And from that moment forward, everything in Miles's life revolved around his beautiful family. He spent hours rambling on and on to 'Omi', as he calls her, about anything under the sun. "Entonces," Miles began as he attempted to give 'Omi a sink bath. "TĂş mami me dijo que necesito hablar mĂĄs inglĂŠs a ti. I won't though, cuz you're my lil princess" he whispered as he curved Omi's hair into a bubbly mohawk and giggled like a child. He played with the bubbly water, pretending to be one of the countless tiny rubber duckies she had floating around in the water.
"Alright, c'mon. Necesito vestir tĂş antes consigue frĂ­o" he giggled as he put the kid in a prowler onesie you told him not to buy. He blew raspberries on Asomi's little belly, earning adorable giggles from his daughter as he carried the tiny baby with one arm. He cleaned up some of the toys on the floor, briefly pushing them inside the toy bin before grabbing the tiny purple pacifier and soft wooly lamb-lamb plush. Omi clung to his shirt, laying her head on his shoulder as she held the tiny lamb-lamb plushie. Miles kissed her on the forehead, sat down on the couch, and fell asleep with Omi dozing off right beside him.
You came home to two of your two favorite people in the world snuggled up on the couch. Omi's tiny hand gripped Miles's shirt as Miles held her like an inmate protecting his tray. You giggled to yourself, snapping a quick pic for the memories before joining their 'nap circle'.
"G'night, pretty babies" you whispered, pressing kisses on both of their cheeks.
"Mmh...noches."
...‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
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Taglist:
@ashsostrange @chessbox @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @kxllanxtdoor
Taglist form on my profile !! pls fill that out to be added <3
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power-chords ¡ 3 months ago
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My folks and I have been reading some of the literature on COVID/Bipolar I and they seem to suspect — and I’m inclined to agree with them — that what I thought was “long COVID” after my second bout with the virus may have in fact been my first recognizable depressive episode. Most of my symptoms overlapped with the depressive phase of Bipolar I, so disentangling the two is probably impossible in retrospect, but for many many months I was behaving in ways that are completely uncharacteristic of my personality: I was exhausted, unmotivated, and even more inattentive than my ADHD makes me ordinarily; I was uninterested in things that give me great pleasure, like going to shows and creative writing; I had brain fog so bad it was an uphill battle doing things that otherwise come quite easily to me, like communicating verbally and expressing myself with clarity and precision. Gradually these symptoms subsided, and I became even more productive and social than usual, which may very well have been a protracted hypomanic phase. I caught COVID again earlier this year, and by the start of July I was spiraling into full blown mania, prone to intense emotional states like expansive rapturous joy and crying jags at the drop of a hat. Music, theater, and reading fiction felt almost unbearably moving and profound. I was writing like crazy, and pretty soon afterward I was acting crazy, too, with racing thoughts and speech, disturbed sleep, and thoughts/ideas that were growing progressively more disordered and paranoid.
I prefer the term “manic depression,” though some consider it antiquated/offensive, because to me it most accurately describes my experience. But by my 36th birthday my new shrink had diagnosed me with full blown Bipolar I. I’m much better now with several weeks of a mood stabilizer under my belt, and this past weekend we went with the “nuclear option,” I.E. a four-day course of high dose antipsychotics. I was miserable from the extrapyramidal side effects, and had to take Xanax throughout in order to tolerate the akathisia and restless leg syndrome. But thank god, it snapped me right out of it, and knock on wood I’m back to my old self — with a little luck, I’ll have another 15 years symptom-free, or with just low grade hypomanic/depressive states that are so mild as to feel like ordinary, subclinical mood swings.
What I’m struggling with is the feeling that I’ve been handed a label sticker that amounts to crippling disability at best, and an early death sentence at worst. I will probably always have to keep these incredibly powerful drugs with their rotten side effect profile on hand, and may one day need to take them consistently, if I wind up having future severe episodes. To have to choose between Shitty and Shittier over a dangerous brain disease feels like I’ve been dealt the world’s worst genetic hand, and that bums me out a lot. I know it’s not my fault, but seeing the agony I’ve put my parents through is the worst part. Figuring out how to manage this is going to be a lifelong struggle against my own lousy biology, and that sucks. I’m trying to stay optimistic. It’s been really, really hard.
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vervainandspritz ¡ 5 months ago
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Not Now, Not Ever
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Part 1
Sorry it took so long. I was busy.
The view was almost pleasant. Where ‘almost’ was the key word in the eyes of a person who spent most of their life seeing it: a tall building in the city center, surrounded by even taller expectations of people who somehow got there. In recent years, more and more people were finding a way to earn time. Whether it was by honestly earning it, luck or tearing it out of some poor bastard who entered the city in search of cheap pleasure and a good time, unfortunately encountering such a frequent guest. Death.
Because that's what Dayton was known for: cheap pleasure and death.
No matter how much time passed, the luridness of Dayton lingered in Y/N’s deepest thoughts and memories. Thus the view here wasn't too bad. Dark eyes closely watched people who'd pass by the building, as her hand twirled her pen.
What a silly habit it was.
It helped her focus, at the same time ensuring that her eyes would not wander to the man sitting on the other side of the large office. Sighing deeply, Y/N leaned forward as her elbows made contact with the desk before reaching for the keyboard. The combination of symbols and numbers created password she knew by heart, typing it in within a single glance.
Hundreds of files, cases hidden under certain codes, were only known to the timekeepers who belonged to the group called A6. A6 consisted of three members. One of them was stationed ten floors higher, with gold letters on his office door, wrinkles on his face and the whole system in his hands. The second member was sitting directly in front of Y/N, separated by ten feet of distance and his stone cold expression. Raymond Leon. Even though Greenwich was bursting at the seams with people who looked permanently young, he was one of the few people she ever encountered who… never changed, not even slightly.
He had a blank expression adorning his face accompanied by scars crossing his pale skin. Weirdly bright, blue eyes dispassionately observed the environment he'd find himself in, no matter where and when. His hair slicked back perfectly, which sometimes drove her mad when she'd wake up in a worse mood.
How could he possibly do it? Not a single strand of stray black hair on his forehead throughout all the years they worked together. Scoffing quietly she rolled her eyes, realizing that her thoughts wandered once again.
It wasn't the best day. She usually had focus, but the switch she learned to make going through the entrance of the building seemed to not work very well today. Her mind was consumed with the wistfulness of the free will she used to have in the past.
Before it all started. Before she became something more than Y/N Y/L/N. Before becoming a Timekeeper.
Several decades ago when she had more in her than this fucking badge in the pocket of her leather coat.
As she suddenly got up, the armchair rolled with a screeching sound. Raymond's attention shifted to Y/N as he raised his eyebrows, looking over his screen at her feminine silhouette.
He didn't say a word, even though he wanted to ask.
She didn't say a word, even though she saw him looking.
Passing by his desk, she grabbed a lighter wordlessly as she moved towards the window, opening it wide on the arms length. The disparate feelings of fresh air and the burning nicotine filling up her lungs was all she needed at the moment.
Feeling the not quite unpleasant scent of tobacco in the air, Raymond was just about to get up to join his colleague in the window when suddenly the door swung open.
“Leon, Y/L/N” A forty year old looking woman stood in the doorway clutching onto a file with a fierce expression on her face. This felt like a breath of fresh air after spending several hours with Raymond’s impassiveness, Y/N thought. “Jameson was found dead thirty miles out of Dayton. We're dropping the case.” She said in a tired voice. Not waiting for an answer, the woman took a step back before disappearing behind the black door.
Y/N scoffed with annoyance. It was the cherry on top of her already bad mood.
“Sure, I only worked on it for two weeks. No biggie.” Her voice was stuffed with sarcasm. Her barely contained frustration filled the now silent room, getting a chuckle out of Raymond.
“In a great mood, aren't we?” He replied with a blank expression, playful mockery in his tone that he used so often, almost like a tool towards Y/N.
Getting up he closed the file, before approaching the window that she stood by. He pulled a pack of menthol cigarettes out of his coat and snatched the lighter out of her hand.
Y/N didn't reply, glancing sideways at him while taking a drag.
“Kinda funny for someone who can't even smoke like a man.” She replied smoothly, without missing a beat causing him to slightly lift one corner of his lips.
“You're enough of a man for both of us.” came out of his mouth along with a trail of smoke. Y/N realized it was only the second sentence he said to her that day, and yet, she had enough of his talking.
Putting her cigarette out, Y/N passed by him, getting back to work and leaving him standing there. Finally, she managed to get to work.
The weather was windy, the sensation of fresh air glazing his skin felt good accompanied by the scent of her perfumes and smoke. Strangely calming, even though he couldn't put his finger on what she smelled like. It's not like it matters, anyway, he thought watching over the busy city center. People rushing places even as the sun started to set was not a surprise, as Greenwich barely slept bustling with life.
Raymond rarely experienced the time where he could just be. Without pacing and his mind being on constant overdrive.
Just like now, standing by the window and pondering on the scent of his colleague's perfume, a calmness settled somewhere between his ribs. He realized that after so many years spent here in this building, with a steely badge on his chest, and with the sound of Y/N’s nails clacking against the keyboard in the background, he felt at home.
***
The whole day passed uneventfully, spent on typical, boring office work. They’d clash every now and then during the rare cigarette and coffee breaks. It was more to break the tension than out of spite; a practiced routine.
While the ticking of the clock used to be a menacing sound some years ago, now it just meant that the end of her shift was getting closer. Eventually Y/N logged out of the system, leaning back on her chair as she scanned over her few belongings on the desk.
One would think that spending most of her days for several years here, she'd have more knick knacks lingering around, but her desk was neat. Almost like a brand new working space. Y/N believed there was no need for additional chaos in her space.
As she stood up, throwing the coat over her shoulders, Raymond didn't move or look up, focused on his tasks, or at least he made himself look like it.
He almost never finished his work when others did. Some people in the office even wondered whether he’d spend his nights there sometimes. So it wasn't new to see him remaining seated as Y/N zipped up her coat, gathered her belongings, and shoved them in her purse before heading out. No words were said as the door shut behind her.
Only when complete silence filled the room did Raymond allow himself to relax a little. He slumped into the armchair as he tilted his head back, closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
Subconsciously, he regretted how the sweet scent of her perfume faded away when in her absence.
***
Y/N couldn't help but feel bitterness. She remembered the time when she felt relief arriving home. That feeling was long gone once the hope of turning the apartment into an actual home faded. It was hard to make peace with, but there was nothing she couldn't handle.
Not anymore.
Y/N took a long shower and changed into more comfortable clothes. Subconsciously she skipped the kitchen, as she didn't feel like eating anything.
Wine was another story though, Y/N thought, chuckling when she grabbed her favourite kind. Not bothering to get a glass, she headed to the living room and settled onto her couch. She took her sweet time drinking, smoking, and letting herself dive into her chaotic and melancholic thoughts. Driven by the sour feeling on the tip of her tongue, Y/N pulled out her phone and scrolled to the unanswered message that had been sitting there for longer than it should have. She finally typed her reply.
“Okay, one date. Tomorrow 8 PM” she sent, tossing her phone aside before she'd change her mind.
A deep sigh left her lips, followed by a chuckle. What a mess.
***
“Fuck!” Raymond exclaimed, followed by a hiss when the heavy door made contact with his back, tearing him out of his thoughts and forcing him to stop reading the file he was holding. Turning around he noticed Y/N entering the office.
She couldn't help but let out a giggle at his angered expression before shrugging and raising her eyebrows.
“Not sure if anyone ever told you that, but Ray,” she started with a cheeky smirk, slowly becoming more serious as she took a step forward, her hand landing on his shoulder, pretending like she was massaging it. “it's not the best idea to casually stand by the door. You might get hit.” Y/N finished with a mockingly serious tone, causing him to roll his eyes and shaking her hand off his body.
“You’re in a strangely good mood. Found a penny on your way here?” He shot back, matching her tone, narrowing his eyes as she chuckled instead of rolling her eyes as she always does.
“Nope, just can't wait to finish my shift today.” She answered honestly, walking over to her desk and dumping her purse on it.
Seeing her in such an unusual state, Raymond felt a weird warmth which bothered him, like every unwanted feeling did.
“Don't worry, I'm sure your empty apartment and book won't mind if you come back late.” He said, more bitter than usual, seeing the lack of reaction.
“Actually I have plans. I don't know if you ever heard of such a thing.” She replied smoothly, slicking her hair back into a neat ponytail and keeping up the eye contact. Raymond laughed out loud, making her look at him weird.
“Yeah, sure, and I'm actually going bowling later.” He mocked arrogantly, shaking his head lightly and running his hand through his perfectly slicked back hair. Y/N felt the dig somewhere deep inside, but refused to let him see it.
“To each their own, but with your size it might be an issue to hold the bowling ball properly.” Y/N replied calmly, sitting down.
Her words hung in the air as Raymond chose to ignore her.
The entirety of her ten hour shift passed quickly, and before Ray even realized, she was gone. Once again, she left a trail of her intoxicating perfume and her perfectly neat desk.
His own desk, on the other hand, was covered in all kinds of papers, reminding him of the amount of work he willingly put upon himself.
Time always passed smoothly when he'd throw himself into the whirlwind of work. He reread some cases over and over until his sharp eyes picked up on details that an average Timekeeper wouldn't notice. That's why he was the best at what he did.
Sometimes a small crisis got a hold of him, filling his head up with unwanted thoughts about the lack of actual sense in his almost eighty year old life. Raymond would never allow himself to indulge into spiraling down memory lane, as the cloudy moments from his past would try to make their way into the view. Ten minutes turned into an hour, and an hour turned into three when finally he stopped his work. He felt the burning need for some nicotine.
Raymond rolled up his shirt sleeves, took one cigarette out of the box, and settled in his usual spot at the nearby window.
He watched the almost empty street in silence. His arm hung in the air with intentions of taking another drag when he suddenly heard a familiar giggle.
Narrowing his eyes, Raymond focused on the couple slowly walking down the street.
He saw a taller man with a sheepish smile in the company of a beautiful woman, wearing a tight but sophisticated black dress and heels with a denim jacket draped over her shoulders. An obviously oversized jacket. They talked while laughing every now and then. A smile was constantly plastered on her dark red lips.
If asked, Raymond wouldn't be able to answer why his jaw tensed so badly at the sight. He couldn’t explain how the burning in his body overpowered the burning on his fingers as the cigarette burned to the filter. Scoffing with pure anger, he threw the cigarette away before pulling down the blinds as he slumped into his chair.
His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing deepened. Raymond knew he wasn't wrong.
He ran a hand through his hair in a messy manner, ruining his perfect hairstyle.
He couldn't tell what infuriated him more; the way he reacted to the sight of Y/N accompanied by another man, or the way he subconsciously responded seeing her in such circumstances.
Taglist!
@kittenonpluto @candlelover @4ria790 @xsweetcatastrophe @cillianinlove @lau219 @theangelofbastogne @sasha28x @the-buddy-things
I can't tag some people, I don't know why. Sorry. Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part! Bye!
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literaryslapshot ¡ 8 months ago
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22- So High School with Princess and Nolan pleeeeeeeaase 🫶🏻
"you knew what you wanted, and boy you got her" | poetic prompts | warnings: anxiety, panic attacks, chaos, weddings
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it was everything they could imagine, even though it was the most stressful day of their life.
the wedding day had finally approached. after almost five years of dating, a year of being engaged, the day arrived. typical wedding day jitters fell upon both parties, the usual last minute thoughts and touch ups, nothing prepared either of them for the massive chaotic crowd that was waiting outside the venue.
even though the bridal party did their best to keep it away from y/n, she knew that the flowers hadn't been delivered, the photographer was an hour late, and the shuttle was also late. as a group they decided to push the wedding back at least an hour to make room for adjustments. but nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to stop her from getting married today.
not even a nervous groom.
"y/n, i need to talk with you for a second." her maid of honor whispered in her ear. she was about to get in her dress, hair and makeup done and set, ready for pictures when the photographer would arrive. stepping to the side in her silk robe and slippers, she felt her stomach drop. god, what now?
"no bullshit. i know we're all done with that today, but you need to talk to nolan. travis texted me saying he is having a panic attack and won't come out of the bathroom. all of this massive chaos is probably freaking him out too," y/n was handed a tissue when she felt tears well up in her eyes, "no no, no crying, it'll all be okay. i'll go with you?"
"no, i can do it. when the photographer gets here y'all go ahead and take pictures and just wait for me."
walking across the venue and where the guys were getting ready, she knocked on the door and was greeted by travis. she made sure all the guys left before talking to nolan. it was like his soul knew she was there before she spoke. a few seconds before she knocked on the door he felt his breathing steady out.
"nolie it's me, please open the door. nobody else is here, just you and me." she softly spoke. he got up, leaning his forehead against the wooden door with a soft thud.
"it's bad luck to see each other before the wedding," his thick accent present in how he spoke, sniffling after he finished. he heard her giggle and slide her slippers across the wooden floor.
"we've had enough bad luck today, so i think we're gonna be okay." he unlocked the door then leaned against the wall, waiting for her to open it. her heart softened when she opened the door, noticed that he'd been crying a lot with tear tracks down his cheeks. his shirt was unbuttoned and his hair was messy. "oh baby," she placed her hand on his cheek, wiping another tear away.
"'m sorry, princess." he took in a sharp breath before letting out another cry. "i just got really nervous, y'know? i mean what if i'm not a good husband? i don't want you to get sick of me and...and leave."
she tucks a lock of loose hair behind his ear, grabbing a tissue from the counter and wiping his cheeks and nose for him. "if i was gonna get sick of you, i would have left by now." she kisses his forehead softly, "remember when we went on our first date? you were so confident, and it was really hot." nolan chuckled, "and when you came to the shop like ten times that next week? you knew what you wanted, and you got her. you got me, and i'm not going anywhere. i'm gonna be your wife, you're gonna be my husband, and we're gonna have a happily ever after together."
nolan places a hand on her cheek as she spoke, a smile on his lips and this time, happy tears filling his eyes. they share a sweet and emotional kiss, one she hopes to recreate in an hour at the altar. they pull apart and she helps nolan fix his tie and to get rid of some of the tear tracks on his cheeks.
"alright, nothing is stopping me from getting married to you today." nolan laughs with his head thrown back, "i'll see you in an hour," she walks to the door of the groomsmen suite, "i'll be the one in a pretty white dress." nolan kissed her on the cheek.
"i'll be the one waiting for you at the altar, princess."
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fireessie ¡ 2 months ago
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Behold, the first thing I've written in weeks.
This would fit into my 5 +1 "Logan's adventures in unemployment," set in Mexico.
“Are you wearing an oodie?” Alex squinted at his phone as Logan raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah? It's comfortable and warm,” Logan switched the camera to the front view, letting Alex see his nest in front of the TV before turning it back on himself, “are you okay?”
“Fine,” Alex sighed, “it wasn't a hard hit. It's just annoying, it feels like I've been cursed.”
He squinted at his phone again as Logan ducked his head, redness appearing on his cheeks. “Loges? What's the matter?” He asked as he settled on his small sofa, arms of his race suit flapping around but he didn't have the energy to get changed.
“Ididnbtjinxyou.”
“Huh? Logan I didn't quite catch that.”
“I said,” Logan took a deep breath, “I didn't jinx you.”
“Oh okay? I didn't think you had?”
“If I did do it, I'm sorry! I'm trying to fix it.”
“Logan, you're not making a lot of sense right now. What are you talking about?”
“Your bad luck.”
“Okay…..and?”
Logan groaned, “I think I jinxed you but I didn't mean too.”
“Okay,” Alex said again, “and why do you think that?”
“Because,” Logan dropped the phone and Alex was left staring at the ceiling as he heard rummaging before Logan reappeared, his hood having slipped down revealing his messy hair, “because this!” Logan held up a lego Williams car, missing one wheel.
“Logan-”
“I was trying to build it and the wheel wouldn't go on straight and when I tried to take it off, it jammed and when I forced it off, it fell down the sofa and I can't find it!”
“Logan-”
“And when it came off,” Logan continued, a wildness in his eyes that made Alex want to hang up, “a few smaller bits did as well. So I did it. I cursed you.”
“Logan, I highly doubt you being bad at Lego cursed me.”
“But what if it did? What if I wanted the Williams to break?”
“Did you?”
“Maybe a little?” Logan looked sheepish now and Alex felt his heart swoop, “maybe…more than a little.”
“I won't say I'm surprised but Loge, I really don't think you cursed me.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Well for one thing, curses and voodoo isn't real and-”
“Yes they are! Oh my god Alex, you can't just say things like that. You're going to get even more bad luck!”
“Well it can't get worse.”
“Yes it can!” Logan looked so appalled that Alex couldn't stop his laugh, “hey stop it, it's not a laughing matter.”
“Okay okay,” Alex grinned, “so what, do I need to do a cleansing ceremony or something?”
He was joking but Logan looked thoughtful and nodded, momentarily distracted as he looked back at the TV. “Oh for god's sake Osc, overtake the Sauber! You're in a Mclaren!” he shouted with a shake of his head as he turned his attention back to Alex, “a cleansing ceremony isn't a bad idea to be honest,” he mused, “certainly can't make things worse.”
“Okay Logan, well you look into what I should do and let me know.”
“I'll send you some articles, you should do it soon.”
“Can't I just wait for you to do it?”
“I can't do it over the phone though.”
“Well…you could come to Brazil?” Alex asked tentatively. He hadn't broached the idea of Logan returning to a race with Logan yet, he hadn't wanted to push him but it was times like these, when he just wanted his pack around him.
Logan slowly shook his head and Alex tried to hide his disappointment.
“I can't Alex…not yet.”
“I miss you, we all miss you.”
“I'm not so sure about that Alex,” Logan said gently, “and that's okay. I'll be back at some point, just not yet.”
“Before the end of the year?”
“Maybe. Hopefully.”
“I'll hold you to that, oh hang on. Come in,” Alex called, smiling at Patrick as his trainer poked his head around the door.
“They want you for media so we need to just do a quick cool down mate.”
“Yeah yeah okay,” he looked back down at his phone, at Logan, who gave him an understanding look.
“Hi Patrick,” he shouted, “I'll let you get on Alex, speak later?”
“Course mate. Thanks for calling, it means a lot.”
“Not like I've got much else to do,” Logan shrugged, “oi, tell your teammate to stay the fuck away from Oscar.”
“I'll pass on the message,” Alex laughed, “see you later.”
“Byeeeeeee,” Logan waved before hanging up.
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kelly-thesecond ¡ 11 months ago
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Older!Merlin x Younger!Arthur Concept
Ok so here's Older!Merlin with Younger!Arthur like I mentioned in my last post suggesting more of this.
-------
Why was it always a hunting trip? Arthur would never admit to Merlin that he was right, but even he was starting to see the pattern of bad luck that followed them everytime that he wanted to catch some game.
In his defence, it was usually bandits. Bandits were familiar and he could handle them.
This was no bandits.
Why couldn't it have been bandits?
"What is wrong with you?!" The king demands, hitting his manservant on the head, after Merlin scared off what was a perfectly good deer.
"It was a deer! We don't need that much food! Especially not your fat ass!"
"It's muscle! You wouldn't know it because you're  a twig!"
"Better a twig than a dollophead! And I'm not as scrawny as I used to be thank you very much."
"Still look like a boy though, goes with your mental age.".
Logically, Arthur knew Merlin was a man now, he was just two years younger than himself after all. But it was hard to see sometimes, with that boyish grin that warmed his chest in ways that he wouldn't dare examine further, and how he didn't act in a way that his father had taught him a man should act. Anyhow, his father was dead, and what was a deadmans business to tell him how a man should be.
Merlin was all that mattered: smart as a whip, wise, loyal, and the bravest and kindest man he has ever met.
Of course, he was also an idiot, disrespectful, the clumsiest person in the lands and the worst manservant to ever live.
Arthur prefered to express the ladder.
And he would come to regret not having expressed the former to his manservant.
"Says the man who has to be dragged off his bed like a whiny child!"
"Well, Merlin-". Then it happened. A pained noise, that Arthur would rather not ever hear again, came from his friend as he fell to his knees and held his chest.
"What is it!? What's wrong!?" He said as he dropped his crossbow and kneeled in front of him.
"A-Arthur.", and then, because they weren't lucky enough to have been just a muscle spasm, Merlins chest started to glow. And the glow started slowly spreading throughout his body.
Arthur froze, completely lost on what to do.
"Merlin! What's happening!?"
What Merlin cursed? Was there a sorcerer nearby that he hadn't noticed? How had he not noticed anyone?
He looked around for a moment but saw no one to kill or demand answers from, and his attention was back on the glowing.
"Something important.".
Do something!! Anything!!
It wasn't like Arthur to freeze with fear, but here he was. The glowing had spread to his neck now.
"Arthur.", his name had made him look up into his friends eyes.
"It's going to be ok.". Why was Merlin comforting him?
"Idiot," he said more fondly than he entended, "I'm supposed to say that to you!".
"Do you trust me?"
He didn't freeze or hesitate with that one.
"Yes."
The glowing was in his eyes now.
"Then trust him as well.".
"Merlin!".
FLASH. A explosion of light temporarily blinds him.
It took a moment to process that he had also been thrown a few paces back.
Merlin.
Was Merlin dead?
The thought made him sick to his stomach.
After recovering, the king looked in front him.
A man, with his back turned to Arthur was standing where Merlin had been, looking around.
"What the hell have the druids done to me now!?"
That voice.
"Why must they do this? Couldn't they have just listened to me??"
Arthur decided to slowly get up and took a better look at the man. He wore a brown cloak that certainly didn't seem comfortable, leather forearm braces and curly back hair.
Was this a trick?
Arthur almost had half a mind to pull out his sword and demand answers for what the hell had just happened. But he also didn't know if he could pull a sword on Merlin, or at least someone that sounded, and talked, and felt, and looked, and moved like Merlin.
"Nooo, let's completely ignore Merlin and teleport him to God knows where without even a warnin-"
"Merlin.".
The man froze for a minute and Arthur couldn't blame him.
He slowly turned around and the king was greated with a full black beard and wide deep blue eyes he would know anywhere.
The age in his face, the broader shoulders, the diferent clothes, the black beard and hair that was longer and curled along his forehead, eyes and nape.
Everything felt unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.
This was Merlin, definitely older, but Merlin all the same.
Everything was a shock but something stood out from all the rest.
The grief in his eyes.
He had seen his manservant grieve before but this was diferent. Merlin looked like he was seeing a ghost in front of him.
"Arthur?"
Even the way he said his name.
"I-Is that you?", he has slowly gotten closer and extended his hand to touch the king's chest with his fingertips.
Soon his full palm touched his heart, as if trying to make sure Arthur was really there. The hand seemed to warm him to his core.
"Merlin?...what?", another hand rose to his cheek, wiping away a tear. When had he started crying?
And suddenly Merlin was hugging him like he thought he would vanish right there and then, and Arthur's wasn't sure if that wasn't possible, due to what had just happened.
How had they come to this?
He was considering giving up hunting.
-------
I tried my best, hope you enjoyed it.
Nothing will come out of it from me. I mean probably, I'm just not a great writer, I'm dyslexic and my english is not good enough to write full fanfics I think, but if anyone wants to pick it up they are welcome to.
Any advice or just smth about my writing is appreciated.
Also if you spot any mistakes, please tell me.
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cece-writes-fanfic ¡ 1 year ago
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the good & the bad
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you're having an anxiety attack, and matt helps you feel better.
(hurt/comfort, 1200 words)
warnings: mentions of prescription medication and descriptions of anxiety.
**i myself have anxiety, so i'm basing this off of some of my own experiences with anxiety attacks.
request guidelines
~~~~~~
The day starts off well. 
You’re about a year into your relationship with Matt, whom you’d met through a fundraiser dinner that had been held by your previous job as a paralegal at Davis & Cooper. Nelson, Murdock, & Page had been in attendance as well, and the second Karen introduced you to Matt, the two of you had been smitten. After a string of failed relationships, this felt like fate—this was the man you’d be with for a long, long time. 
Of course, finding out he was Daredevil had put a little damper on the relationship for a bit, but you’re doing better now. You didn’t blame Matt for hiding that side of him when you had secrets of your own.
Now, you’re working at Matt’s firm, taking over the paralegal position from Karen, and today had started off well. It’s a busy morning—you have a lot of those—but most of the time, the work feels good. It feels good to know that you’re helping people, no matter how small your role might be. Plus, it’s nice to know that you’re working with your boyfriend and friends. It’s a much better environment than Davis & Cooper, and you’re not even biased about that. 
But things are different today, because around two hours after the office had opened, you’d had to deal with a particularly stubborn man who hadn’t agreed with the methods set by the firm, and it had set something off inside of you. 
You’d been diagnosed with anxiety a couple of years ago, right around the time you’d started out at Davis & Cooper (funny timing, right?) and were on medication for it. But, as luck would have it, you’d run out the previous week and hadn’t had time to refill your prescription. 
Now, you guess, you’re paying the price for it. 
Your head spins when you get up from your desk, and you have to steady yourself against it with your hip, holding onto the file in your hands tightly so you don’t drop it. Your breath catches in your throat, pulse hammering in your head. It feels like there’s a vice around your ribs, squeezing your organs into paste. 
Shit, shit, shit. You take a deep breath, silently as you can, but it rattles in your lungs. And, well, nothing you do could ever be truly silent when you’re dating and working with Daredevil. 
“Are you okay?” Matt asks, as if knowing he’s on your mind. 
Your head jerks up, eyes landing on him. “What?”
“Your heart,” he says. “It’s beating quicker than usual, and your breathing is uneven. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you say, even though you know he’ll sense the lie and call you out for it later. “I’m fine. Promise.”
Matt’s glasses hide most of his emotions, but you can see the tightening of his face. Still, he doesn’t say anything, just nods and turns back to his work. The lie only makes your chest feel even more constricted, and you have to grip the file to steady your hands. 
You continue working, going about the next few hours with your anxiety still high in your throat. You’ve been living with it for long enough that you’re usually pretty good at hiding it, even when it’s bad. Medication has helped too—when you’re consistent with it, it’s almost nonexistent. Right now, none of the clients seem to notice anything. Karen and Foggy don’t either. Which is good, because the last thing you’d want is for your stupid anxiety to slow you all down. 
But, yeah, there’s Matt. Matt is bound to notice. He notices almost everything. 
“Sweetheart, I need to talk to you for a second.”
You catch Karen’s eye across the room, and she shrugs. You get up and walk unsteadily towards Matt’s office and find him sitting behind his desk, face eerily blank. 
“Shut the door,” he says quietly. 
Once you do, you take the seat across from him. “Is everything okay?”
“Are you?”
You freeze. It feels like there’s a bee crawling along your neck, buzzing incessantly. It doesn’t feel good. 
“Your heart has been beating almost twice as fast as it usually does,” Matt continues at the same volume. “Your breathing hasn’t evened out. You got lightheaded earlier. And, baby, you lied to me about it.” His voice breaks off a little at the end, and your heart cracks. “You’re in pain. I don’t—I don’t know what’s going on. Please, if you can—please tell me.”
You stay silent for a moment, mouth dry. Your chest aches. Your hands are trembling. Your head hurts. 
“What is it?” he asks gently, as if he can sense your nerves. “You can tell me anything. If you’re sick or hurt, I want to be able to help you.”
You clear your throat, and when you speak, it feels like the words are made of broken glass. “I think I’m going to have an anxiety attack, Matt.”
He straightens up, worry creasing his forehead. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“We’re so busy today,” you say as he gets up from his seat and rounds the desk to stand in front of you. He reaches up, cupping your cheek, fingers pressing to your pulse point. You lean into his touch, eyes sliding shut, and it’s then that you feel a tear slip down your cheek. “I just—I didn’t want to be an inconvenience.”
“You’re never an inconvenience, sweetheart,” he says softly, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “What do you need, baby? Do you need to go home?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” you say. You hesitate. “Can you just hold me for a few minutes?”
“Of course.”
He pulls you onto the couch squeezed against one wall of his office, and he wraps his arms around you, letting you lean into him. He smells like cinnamon-tinged aftershave and clean laundry, a combination that’s so distinctly him that it immediately soothes every nerve in your body. His arms, strong from being Daredevil for so many years, are better than any weighted blanket, and before long, you feel yourself turning to putty against him. 
Matt presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “Heart’s slowing down.”
You hum. Your chest doesn’t feel as tight anymore. It makes it easier to talk. “I got diagnosed a few years ago. Usually it’s not that bad, but today…”
“What happened?” he asks. 
“I haven’t been able to refill my medication,” you confess. “Haven’t had time.”
“We’re going to lunch right now,” he says. 
You pull away, alarmed. “We’re not on lunch for another couple hours.”
“I’m taking you to the pharmacy, and while we’re waiting for your prescription to get filled, I’m going to buy burgers for both of us,” Matt says. “If you want, of course.”
There’s a tightness in your chest again, but not because of anxiety. It’s because you just—you love this man so much. It hurts, but it’s a good pain. The best kind, because it means you’re alive, and you have him. 
“I love you,” you say, leaning in and kissing him. He smiles against your lips. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
~~
And, well. They’re the best damn burgers you’ve ever had in your entire life.
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