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rememberwren · 7 months ago

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A Dichotomy of Thought || 3

Johnny has a good day.

Tw: ableism; implied sexual assault

That night you dream about fucking the two neighbors in 5C.

It’s good sex, too. You can tell by the sweat slicking your skin and the ache in your thighs. You are naked on the big one’s lap, his huge hands on your hips while he bounces you on his cock. Behind you, the shorter one loops his one arm around your waist and grinds his cock against your bare arse.

“Did Jesus send ye?” his voice rasps against the sensitive side of your neck. You tilt your head to give him more room to suck and kiss and bite. Then, as his hand slips down to tease where you need a soft touch the most: “Are you gonna finish me off?”

The one beneath you cums, a flood of warmth deep within your aching cunt. His groans have you teetering on the edge of your cut of the pleasure. You lean down to kiss him, but before your mouths can meet, hands grip your hips and lift you free—his cock slides out with a wet rush of fluids, leaving you feeling cracked open and empty.

Your boyfriend passes you on to his friends who are waiting for their turn with you, and then it is no longer a dream, but a memory.

Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are for physical therapy. Tuesdays and Thursdays are for cognitive rehabilitation. Both of these are paid for by the British government and accomplished in the ‘comfort’ of Johnny’s own home. Like that’s supposed to help; he’s going to have to sweat (literally) and bleed (probably figuratively), but as long as it’s on his own carpet, that’s quite all right. Johnny isn’t sure which he hates more, the physical or cognitive rehab. Both hurt, just in different places; one hurts the stump of his arm, the muscles of his shoulders and neck, his fake knee. The other hurts his pride, leaves him tired and second guessing his broken mind.

The other scares him. It’s one thing to lose his arm—one terrible, traumatizing thing. But the idea that he’s going (or gone) simple is too much to take.

The cognitive rehabilitation therapist’s name is Anna. She wears horn-rimmed glasses and sloppy buns that Johnny fantasizes about gripping in his fist and throttling her with during their less productive sessions.

By sessions, he means they play games together. Simon sits on the sofa in the living room pretending not to watch. He thinks he’s so fucking clever, turning his pages even, but Johnny knows. Simon’s gaze is a tangible thing, as physical as a touch, like a finger running up the back of his neck. There’s no hiding from it. You don’t get a name like Ghost without raising the hairs on some people’s arms with just your eyes.

“It’s your turn, Johnny.”

“I fuckin’ know it. Sorry—sorry.”

Anna puts up a hand to stall his sorries. She is younger than he is; shouldn’t she be older? Wouldn’t that make this less painful? “Take your time.”

It’s a simple matching game. There are less than a dozen tiles left on the board, and Johnny has seen most of them two or three times by now. He keeps forgetting their placements, even though he is burdened with the memory of having chosen them.

His shaking fingers reach for a tile…a red car. Sweat breaks out on his brow. He’s seen this fucking Red Car no less than six times. His fingers hover over the board, moving from one tile to the next. Here? Or here? If he sees the Rose again, he’ll lose his head; he knows it. He can feel his blood pressure rising like the mercury in a thermometer, up up and away, blackness eating at the edge of his vision.

Finally, with absolutely no idea where the other red car is, he picks a tile at random.

Red Car.

Johnny shouts out in triumph, holding up the tile for Simon to see. Even Anna—eternally unimpressed Anna—gives him a smile, infected by his joy.

“Good job—now do it again.”

Groaning, he picks up another tile.

Rose.

“Come lay down with me,” he says to Ghost after taking two of the green, oval pills that are the only things which take the edge off his pain. They make him so fucking tired, though—perhaps that’s their secret; if they can’t take the pain away, they’ll at least help him sleep through it.

“Alright,” says Simon, putting his book down. He doesn’t bother marking his place; they both know he wasn’t reading it.

The two of them slip into the bedroom. It isn’t much: a bed against the southern wall, the doors leading out onto the balcony—blinds pulled shut to keep out any hopeful rays of sunshine, a desk piled high with medical bills that the government will front.

Johnny is pretty good about getting his shirt off with just one arm. He reaches up and back, gripping the collar, and tugs it off over his head in a smooth, fluid motion. He’s thinner after his three-month stint first in the hospital and then in inpatient rehabilitation, but he still looks good.

He hates the stump where his arm used to be, but today he doesn’t even care. It’s a good day, a purely tolerable day. He presses himself against Simon and kisses him, the first true-kiss he can remember giving him since the accident, though his memory is not what it used to be. Simon’s hands—large and warm and strong—settle on his waist pulling him closer. It’s desperate and messy, too much teeth and tongue, neither of them quite settling into the old easy dance they used to be capable of; likely because they aren’t the same people anymore.

“Fuck, I want you,” Johnny pants against Simon’s feral mouth.

“You can’t,” Simon grits out, dragging Johnny’s hardened cock against his own.

“Like hell I can’t!” Though…already his knee throbs, a deep ache punctuated by glass-like shards of sharpness when he bends it. He could take it—but it would hurt. But fuck, what doesn’t hurt these days? “I need you, Ghost.”

Simon grips him by the hair which has grown out too long and badly needs trimmed. He tugs back til Johnny’s neck pops uncomfortably. “You’ll take what I give you,” Simon says, sounding on the verge of madness, at least as desperate as Johnny feels.

“‘n what? I can’t beg for more?”

“Oh, you can beg,” says Simon darkly.

He pins Johnny against the sliding doors of the balcony, rustling the blinds around his body. Knees bent to bring them to just the right height, he fists both their cocks in one large hand, his face buried in Johnny’s neck, muffling groans against his skin.

“Yes,” Johnny gasps, his nails digging into Simon’s back. “Yes, jus’ like that—fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—“

Simon keeps jerking off his spent cock well after Johnny cums, even after he begins whining and pulling back, shoulders thudding against the glass doors behind him. Ghost makes Johnny fuck his fist through the sensitivity until he cums too, both their seed slickening his hand and turning the sound of his handjob filthy-wet.

“Thank you,” Johnny sighs, blissed out. He doesn’t feel any pain, not in his stump or his knee or his head or anywhere. Maybe it’s the pills, but maybe it’s Ghost. Maybe it’s the relief of knowing they haven’t fucked up their relationship beyond all repair, that they’re still capable of loving one another like this. “I needed that.

Simon feeds two fingers soaked in cum past Johnny’s full lips, relishing the way his hot mouth sucks the digits clean. He admits: “So did I.”

He cleans them both up and they curl up on the bed together for Johnny’s afternoon nap—the doctors say all the sleep he needs is good for his brain.

Simon doesn’t intend to fall asleep. But he does.

And when he wakes, Johnny is not there beside him.

You’re just thinking how cold it is out on the balcony, wondering if it is worth it to risk going back inside for a sweater, when the balcony doors from 5C open and out steps the man you almost hit with your car. He looks likely to be cold as well, wearing only a t-shirt and loose pants, his feet bare against the concrete.

A cigarette is tucked in the corner of his mouth, unlit. He gapes at you, and it falls to the balcony floor. Glancing behind himself into the darkness of his apartment, he shuts the door with careful tenderness before bending down with a wince to pick up his cigarette.

The sleeve of his missing arm dangles innocuously. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone out here.”

“Sorry,” you say on instinct. It’s ingrained in you; a lifetime’s worth of apologies. “I can go in and give you some privacy.”

“World’s big enough for two,” Johnny says coolly. There are chairs out here, but he doesn’t sit. Instead he leans against the doors with his good side and pretends to look out. It’s a lovely view of the parking lot. You do the same, except you can see the spot from here where you almost hit him with your car, and it makes your stomach turn. Speaking of: “Sorry about all that in the parking lot. My temper got the best o’ me.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” you admit. “I was distracted. I can’t say it enough, I’m so—so sorry.”

“Water under the bridge,” he says. He holds out the only hand he has left. “Johnny MacTavish.”

You hold out your own left hand, shaking via air from the distance between your balconies. When you give him your name, he mutters it under his breath two, three, four times.

“I’m going to forget that,” he warns you at length with a sad little laugh, fiddling with the unlit cigarette still in his hand. “It’s not you, it’s me.”

“It’s alright,” you forgive. “It’s pretty forgettable.”

Johnny frowns, putting the cigarette back in his mouth and working his hand into his pocket. His accent is so sweet to listen to, syrupy and dropping the consonants off of his words as he assures you: “Didn’t say that, did I, lass? Don’t get twisted.”

Mollified and embarrassed in equal measure at his simple admonishment, you duck your head.

“Got a broken brain,” he says in explanation, reaching up to tap the cigarette against the scars at his temple. “Forgot one of my own sisters’ names on the phone last week and she wept like a bairn. In my defense, I have several of them.”

“I forget people’s names and I don’t have a head injury,” you say.

Johnny snorts softly, the sound carried away by the wind.

He withdraws a lighter, one of the cheap disposable ones you can buy beside the registers at gas stations. His hand shakes as he tries to spin the sparkwheel once, twice, thrice, but no dice. Johnny takes a deep, slow breath, like a little boy trying not to lose his temper. He tries again, the familiar noise of steel rasping on steel, but no spark.

You wait, patiently, eyes turned out toward the parking lot as he begins muttering curses beneath his breath. Anxiety itches beneath your skin. His building anger is a tangible thing in the air like heat thrown off by a lit flame or the smell of burnt rubber, tires squealing in the parking lot as you slam on the breaks. A man’s anger is familiar to you. It predicts pain. Your skin flashes hot and then cold, and you are just about to make a polite escape inside when:

“Can you catch?” he asks, sending your gaze swerving to him from the parking lot.

“Can I—? Fuck!” you throw your hands up just in time, scrambling for the lighter even though he only tosses it underhanded like an easy pitch for a tee-baller. It slips from one of your sweaty hands to the other like a slapstick comedy routine, but it doesn’t clatter to the concrete nor does it fall off the balcony altogether. Holding it in your hand, you light it easily to make sure it works, missing the hungry, bitter expression that comes over his face when you do. “How? I can’t reach you from here.”

“We can meet in the middle.”

You can’t. Even with him outstretching from his side of the balcony and you from your own, there is a good half a meter of distance between you both. You can’t help but remember the other man’s words—I just want one fucking cigarette without worrying about him taking a swan dive off the balcony.

“Be careful,” you admonish when Johnny slips a little, his ribs digging into the iron-wrought railing. He doesn’t have good balance, you realize. Does losing an arm fuck something like that up? The answer you don’t know: it fucks up everything. Taking a deep breath, you glance over the rail and take note of how high you are from the ground. High enough for a healthy splat should you fall…

“Forget it,” he says morosely, his brows low. He is the picture of dejection, a kicked dog. “Doctors say ‘m not supposed to smoke anymore anyway.”

“Don’t they say that to everyone? Just—hang on.” Tucking the lighter into your pocket, you throw one leg over the railing.

“What are yeh—you-uuu fucking nutter,” he laughs as you test the stability of the railing. It doesn’t shift or creak at all under your weight. Heart in your throat, you lift your other leg over, feet lodged in the narrow space between the railing and the concrete floor. Gripping the rail with a tight fist, you let your weight lean into the space between your balconies, reaching into your pocket to remove the lighter and flick it to life.

Johnny looks like he could laugh or cry or both, stretching out his shaking arm so you can light the cigarette and then quickly bringing it to his mouth to suck it to life.

“Yer crazy,” he says breathlessly, words tinted with smoke as he watches you scramble back over the railing and to safety.

The sliding doors open. For a moment, you mistake the sound for being closer than it is—for being your boyfriend finally noticing how long you’ve been gone and coming to find you. He’s going to find you out here with Johnny and the same arguments will be born all over again—arguments about your disloyalty.

But it’s Johnny’s doors which slide open. The taller man comes out, the circles under his eyes standing out darkly against his pale skin in the late afternoon light. At the sight of Johnny, an expression of raw, poignant relief comes over his face.

Johnny drops the cigarette over the ledge of the balcony, face sheepish.

“Was just meeting our bonnie neighbor,” says Johnny, slipping his arm around the other man’s waist. If there was any doubt left of what they were to each other, it disappears: seeing them together, you can see the magnetism that draws them together. They act like plants which turn toward the sunlight, except they are the sunlight. The bitterness inside you rises up in the back of your throat. “Grateful to be doing it without a car in between us. This is Simon.”

“Nice to meet you,” says Simon.

“You too,” you offer, like perfect strangers.

You don’t find the lighter still in the pocket of your pants until later, when it is past midnight as you are collecting your clothes from the floor, aching between your legs and raw-eyed from crying. You flick the sparkwheel, watching the flame come alive. Glancing behind you, you make sure your boyfriend is fast asleep before creeping to your dresser drawers, opening the one with your socks, and shoving the lighter towards the back as far as you can.

#ghoap x reader #dichotomy of thought

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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Margaritas and Mistakes

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive, smut coming in the next part (it's already written it just felt best to post them separately lmao).

Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, some heavy petting and mention of sexual arousal. 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.

A/N: Welcome back, it's my week off currently so I've been writing a copious amount of smut, so please enjoy this 3.6k word build up to more smut coming soon. Requests are still open, and you can find my masterlist here!

PART TWO!

You truly made all of your worst decisions when under the influence of alcohol. You blamed it on the fact that you really didn’t get the chance to go out all that often now that you were a full time member of the BAU Team. But the job was sometimes rewarding, and considering you’d been working on consultations all week and not a full time case, you were really looking forward to stretching your legs this friday night and getting some much needed relaxation in before you had to stare evil in the eye one more time.

“Girls’ Night Out! No male detectives, partners, Special Supervisory Agents, Unit Chiefs, OR Doctors!” Penelope cheered as you arrived at her apartment that night prior to your eventful outing.

“God I needed this,” Emily sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “I can’t remember the last time I got to kick back with a glass of chardonnay.”

“You sent me a picture of your drink two days ago, and it didn’t exactly look like water,” JJ laughed.

“Ah you see, my dear JJ, that wasn’t kicking back. That was therapy.”

“Honestly, though, it’s going to be good to get out of the house. I swear, the only places I’ve been for the last month have been my apartment and work,” you sigh, downing the last of the drink Penelope had handed you on the way in.

“What happened to that guy you were seeing, Y/N? Was he that bad?”

“Don’t even mention it. He took me back to his place and he didn’t even have a mattress on the floor, wanted us to do it on his couch,” you groan. “The couch that was also housing all of his laundry. And I’m not positive it was even clean laundry.”

You really had been having the absolute worst luck with men recently; other than your aforementioned tinder date, the only men who had shown any interest in you being serial killers who wanted to murder you and married cops looking to fool around with an FBI agent. Not the most auspicious of dating pools.

“Okay, operation get Y/N laid is a go. Ladies, your jobs tonight, should you choose to accept it, is to become the best wing-women this town has ever seen!” Penelope joked, and you found yourself giggling at just the idea, thankful that they were taking the time to try to cheer you up.

“Oh I’m all in. I’m warning you now, Y/N, my wing-woman success rate is pretty high. I’ve helped multiple couples achieve not only orgasm, but also marriage and kids.” Emily boasted.

“Emily, next time you might want to think about the wording of that one,” JJ laughed. “But I’m in too, you could use a little unwinding.”

“Not you too, JJ. You were supposed to be our voice of reason tonight.” You giggle into your cup, feeling the effect of your starter alcohol already.

“Nope. We’re having no responsible adults in our midst tonight. That’s why I’ve already arranged for our favourite Doctor to come and pick us up when the last of us falls tonight. He’s at a screening of some Indie Russian flick until 2am which is probably about perfect for our plans.”

This is the first you’ve heard of Penelope’s plans, but you’re not against it. With a solid escape route, you can let loose as much as you want tonight and know that all of your friends are fully able to have as much fun as possible tonight.

“Well, that’s the plan for us, sweetcheeks. Maybe you’ll get lucky.” Penelope winked at you with a nefariously innocent look on her face. And suddenly you weren’t quite as sure you trusted her…

–X–

After your first margarita at the bar you were still feeling fine. Sure, you were talking a lot louder than you usually did, and if you saw yourself in the mirror you’d probably start giggling instantly at the stupid, semi-permanent grin on your face, but you were feeling so relaxed that it was of no consequence.

You’d moved swiftly from Penelope’s apartment to the nearest downtown bar. It looked pretty seedy to you, and the lighting was so low you could barely make out the faces of your friends in their seats at the same table as you, but you were sure some of that was just the alcohol blurring your vision.

Your hearing though was still in top shape, which was why when Penelope asked her next question, you almost spit the drink out of your mouth, rushing to laugh.

“Okay, fuck, marry, kill, Hotch, Morgan, Reid.” She giggled as she posed the question to her teammates.

“Oh come on now, that’s not fair.” Emily laughed at the question posed.

“You’re right, I don’t know a woman alive that doesn’t want a ride on my chocolate thunder.” Penelope let out a faux dreamy sigh and took another swig of her drink.

“And marrying Reid just seems wrong. He’s like our brother at this point.” JJ points out, just shuddering at the thought.

“So we’re all in agreement? Fuck Morgan, marry Hotch and lovingly bury Reid six foot under?” Emily laughs and the other two nod.

“Nope,” is all you manage to get out before going for another large gulp of your drink.

“Well, well, well, Y/N what would you be doing differently?” Emily snaps her head around to look at you, eager for the juicy details.

“None of you are curious what the doctor is packing?” You reply, almost innocently, unaware of the many plots culminating in the minds of your friends at that very second.

“Not at all. “Nope.” “That’s pretty gross, actually.” They all seem to reply at once, but Penelope pushes another drink into your hand as soon as you’re done and gets ready to launch a counter-attack.

“Are you curious about it?” She leaves it at that, and if you weren’t so drunk, you’d have seen them all lean into you, desperate for your answer and ready to hang off of your every word. "Do you think about you and him… You know?"

“Every night,” you sigh dreamily. And you’re telling the truth. In the recent months, you’d found yourself waking up a little hot and bothered after some rather steamy midnight encounters with the Good Doctor. You’d become close to him over the few months you’d worked with him as a member of the team, but it wasn’t like you’d had a crush on him or anything. It was more like your body had an unconscious appreciation of his body. Or at least for certain parts of his body.

“His fingers are really nice, you know. And they’re big, too. Just makes a girl curious, s’all.” You down the proffered drink, hiding your remaining shame behind the glass.

“No, no, no babycakes, we’re gonna need more details than that if you’re gonna claim that you want to fuck Reid more than Morgan.” Penelope insisted, more forceful now than before.

“And what exactly does every night mean, Y/N? Something you should be telling us?” JJ wiggled her eyebrows at you and you lost it for a few seconds having a giggling fit.

“Okay, okay, it’s just… You’ve seen how he looks, right? And there was that one case three weeks back. He confronted that accomplice, and when he was about to bolt he slammed him against the wall and held him there like he’d barely broken a sweat. And you know how it is, we see Morgan kicking down doors on the daily, so I thought I wouldn’t be that interested in feats of physical strength, but my only thought in that moment was that I’d rather like him to slam…me…against that …wall.” You slowed down your speech at the end, looking up to see what looked to you like the grinning faces of three wolves staring down at their prey.

“And now I need another drink, anyone up for another round?” You squeaked out, changing the topic before any of the others could make their own comments.

–X–

Your second round of margarita’s was probably where things went irreversibly wrong for you. You’d returned to the table with two rounds of shots for all, having queued up four songs on the ancient jukebox you’d seen in the corner, hoping to entice the girls away from conversation, and it had worked.

After you’d bought the first two rounds, JJ had bought you another, and then Emily had splurged on another three, and then Garcia had rounded the hour out with one more shot, this time with sparklers attached.

So by the time you got back to your table and took a much needed swig of a drink that didn’t have to go down all at once, you were feeling well past drunk, to say the least.

But with the free-flowing alcohol came the lack of inhibition, so you really didn’t care. True to their word, the girls had been doing their best to convince you to dance with some of the guys in the bar since you’d gotten up, but truthfully none of them had enticed you.

But now, the night was running out, and the alcohol had you a bit hot and bothered, so when you felt a nice, hard body press up gently against yours, you decided to take advantage of the situation. Without looking back, you wrapped your hand around the one of his that had grazed your hips and held in there, moving your hips back and forth and beginning to grind back into your mystery man.

He was a little bit still at first, but eventually began making some slow movements along with you, and you could see the others cheering for you from a distance, Emily especially whooping from her perch at the bar.

You felt the voice lean down to your ear after a minute or so, and you tilted your neck up to hear the tall man a little better.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” He whispered against your skin, still letting him guide you through the music. Had you been sober, you’d have realised the voice was more than familiar, especially since he’d said your name, but you were not, and so you did not.

“Well, if you’re lucky, tonight I’ll be doing you?” you giggled back, looking up at the man quickly. But with the hazy lights of the bar and the copious amount of alcohol you’ve ingested, you don’t catch a good enough glimpse of the man to realise he’s your coworker.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” he says, when you start to pull him towards the bar, his grip on your hips tightening, accidentally pressing you back into what you expect to be his semi-erect cock, straining against your clothing.

“Oh, what, wanna take me home right now? That’s okay with me, mister.” You giggle, grinding back into him more intentionally this time. You grip his hand and try to force it up to touch more of you, utterly carefree about throwing yourself on what you presume to be a stranger in the middle of a bar.

Before you manage to, however, he lets out a frustrated groan and turns you around by your hips, forcing you to look him in the eye for a little bit longer, and all of your senses finally start working once again.

“Yes, Y/N, we’re going now. Penelope called me 15 minutes ago and said you were ready for that ride home and I can see now that she was right,” Reid leant down so you could hear him enough, but your brain was short circuiting.

You’d been grinding on your coworker. The one that had been the cause of so much of your sexual frustration for the past god knows how long. Spencer was right in front of you, and he hadn’t loosened his grip on you that much. Spencer was right in front of you and his erection was poking into you.

Really, your following actions shouldn’t be held against you in the slightest given the situation.

“Are you going to take me home, Doctor? Lay me down in bed and get me nice and comfortable?” you giggled up at the man, now enjoying the way your insinuations were making him blush.

“Y/N, you’re not being fair. We need to get the others and go,” he shot back, irritation dripping from his tone.

“Oh I’m sorry, am I being a bad girl?”

“You’re certainly being very difficult- what are you doing?” He jolted as you moved your hands to his fair, beginning to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“It’s softer than I imagined it would be,” you giggled again, pressing yourself forward to press a kiss against his neck.

“Okay, we need to get you home,” he panicked, grabbing both of your hands, pressing them against your sides, spinning you around and walking you back towards the other girls.

“Hello Spencer~” the girls all giggled as you approached. You struggled against his grip a little, but he kept you firmly in place, man-handling you slightly, and you practically melted into his touch.

“Who let Y/N drink this much? Don’t answer that, you’ve all been drinking the same amount, right?” He left out a frustrated breath, and ran one hand through his hair. You attempted to move again, but he’d practically pinned you to the table. Your hips were pressed into the edge of it, his hips pressed against you, forcing you up against the table in a way that should have been uncomfortable. His other hand was resting near your discarded glass, caging you in almost entirely.

“Cars out front, lets go,” he said, his jaw twitching with anger now.

“No need, lover boy, taxis are coming to pick myself, Penelope and JJ up as we speak,” Emily slurred the words, but got the idea across well enough. “You’ll just be needing to take this little kitten home and you’re done for the night.”

They were all giggling now, as you let out a childlike yay, your excitement evident on your face.

“We’ll wait and see you all off together at least, so outside now. She needs some fresh air or something,” he was practically talking to a wall at that point, but after a few repetitions, the women acquiesced and moved outside.

“Ooh, that’s my taxi, gotta go,” Garcia practically runs from you the moment you step outside, and you wave at her whilst wrapped around one of Reid’s arms, stumbling with each step.

“Use protection my sweet babies,” she shouts as she slams the car door just as her car drives away, leaving a spluttering Spencer unable to respond that he’s not touching you tonight while you’re in this state.

The taxis for Emily and JJ arrive swiftly as well, and the two soon depart with similar messages and soon you find yourself alone with Spencer once again.

“So, your place or mine,” you smirk, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes in the sweetest way you can manage.

“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Drunk I may be, Doctor, but I absolutely know what I’m saying. I’m saying I want you to shove me against a wall and finger fuck me until I don’t know how to walk anymore.”

“Goddamnit, Y/N, someone’s gonna hear you.”

“Oh you want me to be quiet? If you take my panties off and push them into my mouth maybe you could shut me up for a few minutes.”

“Get in the car, now.” You stick your tongue out at him, but hop into the passenger seat. He slams the door in your face and takes a few deep breaths before moving around and getting in himself.

–X–

Despite having the window open the entire car journey, hoping that the fresh air will do you some good, you’re still on top form when Spencer pulls up to your apartment.

“I didn’t even give you my address,” you pouted, as you tried, unsuccessfully, to remove your seatbelt.

“I memorised your file, now let’s get you into bed,” he unclasps it for you, and you use the close proximity to drop a kiss on his cheek.

“Only if you get into bed with me, hot stuff,” you wink at him and make for the door. “You know, you’re going to remember everything I said in the morning, right?” You asked him.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he muttered under his breath as he caught you just as you were about to teeter into the hedge on the shared green space. You wrapped your arms around his neck for the second time that night and stopped him in his tracks. Looking deep into his eyes, you took one of your hands and traced it gently over the side of his face and down his neck, your eyes following your fingers. He gulped involuntarily when you hit his adams apple, and you snapped your eyes back to him.

“Chances are that I’m probably not going to remember any of this, right?” You smiled up at him.

“Alcohol induced memory blackouts tend to occur in binge-drinkers whose alcohol levels have hit at least 0.16%, and further studies show that 50% of adults will experience some kind of alcohol-related memory loss in their lives, so yes, I’d say you’re probably not going to remember any of this.” He shot back, almost entirely still in anticipation of your next move.

“Good, then I might as well enjoy the moment while it lasts right.” As soon as the words were out of your mouth, your lips crashed into his, and after a beat, his reciprocated, moving over yours just as hungrily. He moved now, walking you back to your door, lips still locked in a ferocious battle for dominance, until he pinched your arm slightly. You gasped a little, ready to pull back and complain about the pain, but suddenly his tongue was in your mouth and you were back at it all over again. He tapped your legs, signalling that he wanted you to jump into his arms, and you did, wrapping your legs around his centre tightly as he finished making his way to your apartment door.

Pulling away for the briefest of moments, he pulled your keys from your back pocket, and made quick work of your door.

“Bedroom, now Spencer, please I need you,” you whimpered in his arms, pressing kisses against his jaw and neck. Unfortunately, he had other ideas.

“No. We are going to the bathroom, where you’re going to wash your makeup off, brush your teeth and change your clothes, and then you are going to get in bed and sleep.” He unceremoniously dropped you at the door of your bathroom, and you slid to the ground.

Pouting up at him, you felt the tears well in your eyes.

“No! I don’t want to go to bed yet,” you sounded like a petulant child and Spencer cursed a little under his breath when he looked down at you.

“Y/N listen to me very clearly, you’re not thinking straight. You’re way past the legal limit, you can’t consent to any of this and I’m not going to sleep with you and then have you forget it in twelve hours.” His tone was harsh, but you listened to him.

Picking yourself up off the floor, you followed his instructions and got yourself ready for bed.

“Okay, I’m all done now, Doctor,” you grumbled once you were done. You half expected him to have left you there, choosing to retreat whilst you cleaned yourself up, knowing that he’d already done what was asked of him by getting you home. But he was still there perched on your bed, and you made one last attempt to get what you wanted.

As he made his way to stand up, you used the last of your strength to push him back down again and climbed into his lap. This time though, you made no attempt to take anything further, just wrapping your arms and legs around him and burrowing into his shoulder. You had to admit, you were getting particularly sleepy now.

You let out a small yawn and burrowed further into his neck just as he opened his mouth.

“Y/N, please, what are you doing?” He sounded tired now, but didn’t attempt to push you off again.

“You said I was probably not going to remember this in the morning. That’s not going to fly with me. So you’re gonna sleep here with me and tell me everything I forgot in the morning.” You informed him.

He scoffed at you, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.

“So you want me to just sleep here next to you? No pushing you against a wall? No panties in your mouth?”

“Nope. Like you said, ‘s getting pretty late and it’s been a long week, so it's probably for the best if we…” You tried to finish but your tongue was so heavy in your mouth that you just couldn’t use it anymore. You felt the warm rumble of his answering laugh of disbelief as he manoeuvred the two of you under the covers, taking the time to kick off his shoes and remove his coat and shirt.

“Sleep well, Y/N, because when you wake up I’m going to make you feel all of the torment you’ve put me through tonight tenfold.”

And he held you there against his chest as both of you fell deeper and deeper into your slumber.

PART TWO

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drowsyhope · 11 months ago

Text

NEVER AGAIN - POPPY’S PLAYTIME

summary ; never thought you would come back here, especially meeting your old lover here.

part 2 ; here

a/n ; i like the theory that dogday is possessed by rich, so we finna roll with that

warnings ; slightly gore, cussing, reader is a female but can be read as any gender, mention of divorcing, lowkey short

APRIL 6TH, 1991

“are you sure you need to go to work?” you plead, but to no refusal was coming out of him. he was quick to put his work clothes on, ignoring any pleading that had came out of your mouth. he was surely a pain in the ass.

today was yours and rich’s wedding anniversary, but of course, work comes first, and when they gave him a call asking if he could monitor the new shipment, he was quick on his feet.

it wasn’t common for rich to drop everything and go to that factory, hell, he was so close to dipping out the wedding, but before his mother threatened to take away all the inheritance he was gonna get if she ever died.

it was like his job mattered more then you did, and it hurt. the truth always hurt.

either way, the job of his was weird. it was a factory that specialized in children’s toys, and rich was one of the workers there. everyday when he would come home, he would complain on and on again on how terrible the work conditions were at his job, yet, he would do anything for that job.

“yes, i have to.” he replied, putting on his badge, which had a personalized name tag along with it.

sighing, you walked away from the male, tired that he was going away to his job again, and especially since he had gotten more ticked off lately. it was making you more stressed, and you were close to divorcing him and leaving him on the spot, him and his weird job that he always seems to care about.

but you can’t. that’s the love of your life, your high school sweetheart, the man you always set your eyes on. you can’t just drop everything and leave, like he always does. it’s hard for you to understand what’s happening, but you know that no matter what, you’re staying with this man, till death part the both of you.

JULY 30TH 1994

rich has been acting more off edge now, ever since he has been demoted to the ‘rejected toys room’, which he thought was insane of the company to do. you suggested quitting the job and finding a better one, but rich quickly declined the idea, saying it’s better to stay than leave.

at least he still has avery, who he always have lunch with on fridays. the both of them are good friends, which you’re glad that at least he has someone at work to talk to.

recently, the two of you have been distant, you running around the house making sure it’s clean and food is ready for your husband, in return, you husband working his ass off at the weird factory, always getting angry at every little thing.

it’s more harder that now you have random plush toys in your house, rich says that it’s to calm him down, but you think that they look creepy.

one though, the dog plush, was your favorite, despite its huge smile and its black menacing eyes that stares right into your soul. it had a vanilla scent, and its name was ‘dogday’, which you found adorable.

you would always carry around the plush toy, talking to it as if it was rich, cuddling with it in bed since rich is not there half of the time, pretending that it’s rich but as a plush.

it might seem pathetic, but you missed your husband dearly. you would’ve never guessed how much the two of you have been distant, and how you were slowly feeling replaced by this job. it was all crumbling down on you, but at least you had the dogday plush, it was cute.

either way, you have to thank rich for the plush, it was like a therapy plush. the others plush were nice, but you personally had a bias towards the dog one, as you liked dogs. the catnap plush was a close second.

hopefully, you can reconnect with your husband, maybe beg his boss to give him some time off, have a vacation with each other? just anything to be with him.

PRESENT DAY

now you thank the lord above that you never worked here.

poppy had purposefully crashed the train, resulting in the two of you being separated and you being dropped down a shoot. thankfully, you were quick to get out, realizing that you were now in the playcare sector of the factory. you went through the orphanage, saw catnap who scared the daylights out of you, had a hallucinations, saw a weird looking huggy wuggy, went through the school and always got killed by the teacher, saw catnap worshipping the prototype, and now you were in the playhouse part of the playcare.

how huge was this place again?

crawling through the playhouse, you were met with many of the mini smiling critters, which you thought were adorable. until they started to bite you. using the flare gun , they went away quicker than they came to you.

you felt odd in the playhouse, navigating through the plush maze. the critters followed your every room, but using your flare gun, they went away.

finally, seeing a door, you went through it, being surprised as you saw an empty pool room, with ducks being inside it. it felt uneasy, and you had a frown on your face, thinking that it was going to be an exit.

walking to another door on the other side of the room, you were met with a sort of jail type place, made with plush mats, of course. everything was unnerving, some of the jail cells were broken off, there were dead toys everywhere. some were hanged, some had blood bleeding out of its eyes or neck, some completely didn’t even have a head.

“you .. you’re poppy’s angel ..” your eyes widen, your heart dropped. that voice, it sounded familiar.

you look to see a chained up life-sized dogday, his lower half being cut off from his body, a belt being wrapped around his waist to probably contain the rest of his organs inside. it was horrific, his voice, his black soulless eyes.

“come to save us.” your hand made its way to cover your mouth, trying to contain the scream that was going to come out your mouth. you felt your face growing hot, your ears canceling out whatever he had to say. your emotions were going everywhere, nothing made sense. you thought he was dead, you thought he was 6 feet underground, you thought he wasn’t here no more.

but there is was, all in his glory. well, not quite glory.

“listen to me, you need to get out of this place.” you didn’t say a word, your eyes locking with his soulless ones. it all connected. there was a reason they didn’t want you to see his face, there was a reason it took weeks for them to retrieve his body, there was a reason why the funeral home was confused on why there wasn’t a body. there was a reason why your husband was taken away from you in this God awful place that called itself a loving place.

“i’m not going.” you could practically feel him gasp. the dog — rich, pleaded with you. trying to make you go, saying how the mini critters will come after him, how catnap will come after you.

but nothing was going to make you leave, nothing was going to make you leave your husband once again. nothing was going to let you from not stopping him as he walked out that door to his job. nothing was going to repeat itself once again.

#dogday #poppy playtime #x reader #dogday x reader #poppy playtime x reader #smiling critters #smiling critters x reader #reader insert #gn reader #female reader

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ironstrange1991 · 4 months ago

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Ambien Slide

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: A Cigarettes After Sex song inspires a sensual moment in the Sanctum's kitchen

Word Count: 1,6k

Warnings: Oral sex with female receiving

A/N: I was making dinner while listening to CAS when I had this idea and I needed to write it as quickly as possible before the motivation went away. It is completely self-indulgent and has not been proof read so ignore any mistakes and have a nice reading ;)

You were in the kitchen distracted while preparing dinner. You almost never cooked, but when you decided to prepare something, you always made it a special moment.

You decided that night would be special because it was Friday and the week that almost drove you crazy was finally ending. When leaving work, you went to the grocery store to buy the ingredients to make a steak with mustard sauce and garlic and oil paste. Not satisfied with the work you would have to do, you decided to prepare dessert too instead of buying something ready-made.

When you arrived home with your bags in hand, you were greeted by silence and the echo of your footsteps on the floor that indicated you were alone. Before you were afraid of staying in Sanctum alone, now you felt really good there.

After taking your well-deserved shower and dedicating some of your time to taking care of your hair and skin, you put on new satin pajamas that you had bought a few weeks ago and hadn't worn yet. It wasn't provocative at all, but it was pretty and black, your favorite color. It was past 7pm when you turned on your speaker and put the new Cigarettes after sex album on and dedicated yourself to preparing dinner. You had already lost count of how many times you had listened to that entire album in the last few weeks. In fact, you hadn't heard anything else since the album was released and it had been over a month.

You barely noticed time pass as you wandered around the kitchen doing your chores to the sound of those soft tunes. Giving in to self-indulgence you opened a bottle of red and poured a glass which you drank in a few sips and refilled. You liked to cook sometimes, without having to commit to doing it every day, it was like therapy for you. You could completely disconnect from the outside world and all the turmoil in your head when you did it, suddenly it was just you and the subtle art of mixing different ingredients to create something wonderful.

Because you were completely absorbed in your domestic world, you didn't hear Stephen arriving, nor did you hear him calling out to you. You were finishing the berry pie, cutting some strawberries to decorate it, when he entered the kitchen and surprised you by wrapping his strong arms around your waist while hugging you from behind.

"I was wondering what you were up to here." He said, placing a small kiss on your cheek and you felt that feeling of butterflies in your stomach that you always felt when you were around him. You had already given up wondering how long this feeling would last. You had been together for over two years and there wasn't a day that went by that you didn't feel that way around Stephen. You were sure that what you had was one of those that last.

You tried to act normally, just humming a response as you placed the strawberries on top of the pie, but Stephen took advantage of the fact that your hair was tied up in a high bun and began placing little kisses on the back of your neck that quickly made your skin prickle and your whole body tremble in response to which he giggle.

"This looks delicious." He praised.

"You haven't seen anything yet. I got inspired tonight, prepared a full dinner."

He nodded, burying his nose in your neck and breathing in your scent. "What is the occasion to deserve such a special dinner?"

You giggled feeling his goatee tickling you "It's Friday and this week has been horrible. I'm just glad it's over."

He hummed, "And is Cigarettes after sex part of the moment? You said once that every time you listen to them you think of me, so I wonder if I should expect something more from the night besides a nice dinner."

You bit your lower lip realizing that the album in question had ended and started again and was starting the last song already – again.

"Maybe" You replied "If you deserve it."

He let out a small hum.

"I really like this one." He said referring to the music that was playing. “They are all similar, but this one has something special. What's its name?"

"Ambien Slide." You said softly feeling his hands slide to the sides of your waist as he slowly moved from one side to the other making you both sway to the beat of the music in an extremely sensual way and he was right, there wasn't a single time that you listened to Cigarettes after sex without thinking about Stephen. It was your band and you didn't know if he was doing it on purpose or not, but you doubted you could hear that song again without remembering this moment.

"It's not exactly a happy song." You tried to reason and he hummed continuing the movement uninterrupted.

"But they make even sadness sexy, don't they?" He teased you by squeezing his arm around your waist and literally trapping you against his body and you gasped feeling his hard on against your ass.

"You do it. I don't know how other people feel about them, but for me it's about you. Every song is about you. Everything is about you, Stephen." You confessed, turning your face to meet his lips.

Oh those lips, warm and soft, moving against yours with such passion, parting slightly as an invitation to let your tongue in. You let out a gentle moan in response and your hand wrapped around his in your waist, intertwining your fingers with his own while the other slid back holding his neck to keep him as close as possible as your breaths became heavier and heavier until he needed to break the kiss to breathe.

The music was still playing, but it was just a ringing in your ear now, you could feel your heart buzzing above it and your legs went weak and you let out something between a gasp and a chuckle.

"What is it, Sweetheart? Did I make you a little dizzy?" He asked with a smirk on his face. He knew very well the effect he had on you, but he liked to tease you anyway. "Or was it the wine I tasted on your lips?"

At that point you had already completely forgotten what you were doing and the song had finally ended giving way to the first song on the album which was starting over for the third time. You turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "Do you want to taste some more?"

He chuckled and in one movement you were in his lap. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he walked to the table and placed you sat on top of it.

"There's something else I want to taste now." He said pulling down your pajama shorts down your legs, throwing it on the floor and diving between your legs.

You closed your eyes, feeling his tongue on your core and your entire body shook. You would never get used to that feeling, to the way Stephen could reduce you to a moaning mess with just his tongue. He opened your folds with his fingers and sucked on your clit and then went back to using the tip of his tongue flicking it against your entrance to tease you and going up to your clit again taking turns licking and sucking on the hardening bud.

You could hear music playing, but you couldn't pay enough attention to identify the song and it didn't matter, nothing else mattered other than the feeling of having Stephen between your legs.

"Oh shit, Stephen. So good. You're making me feel so good. Gonna make me cum if you keep this up."

But he just moaned and continued with his pace, holding your thighs with both hands to keep them apart and your legs began to tremble involuntarily as you felt the heat rising from your center to your stomach and the knot threatening to break.

"Oh Stephen..." You moaned louder feeling your release washing over you. "F-fuck, oh fuck... I fucking love you... so much, so much..."

When he emerged from between your legs his face was red and wet, but he had never looked so handsome and you grabbed him by his robes and pulled him back to your lips. They tasted like you.

You were feeling dizzy, your heart buzzing in your ears, but yet you never felt better.

"Say it again." He asked on your lips. "I love hearing you saying it."

"I fucking love you, Doctor Strange." You said cupping his face in your hands and he smiles proudly.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He said, pulling away and picking up your pajama shorts from the floor and helping you put them on.

"Dinner?" You asked trying to return to the earthly plane.

He nodded "Sure. But I'll take a shower first.” He said with a smirk and you could see the bulge in this robes pants. You took pride in it.

“Don’t take too long or your food will get cold." You said still trying to regulate your breathing.

He gave you a peck on the cheek “Okay, but I’ll have my dessert upstairs tonight, sweetheart."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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charliehoennam · 8 months ago

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forever home

a/n: i rewatched the office and it was that episode where jim buys pam a house 🥰

pairing: william miller x f!reader

warnings: none (i think. i suck with tags, sorry), just fluff, not proofread so sorry for any typos

It's almost 11 p.m.

You're sat on the couch, trying to keep your tired eyes open as you watch a rerun of Hell's Kitchen.

With Gordon Ramsey's yelling and cursing in the background, you lift your phone once more to check for any new messages but there aren't any. You open up the chat with Will on the messaging app and reread his last text.

"Having one for the road. Be home in 20. Love you 💚"

You don't want to be one of those nagging fianceés, but the urge to text or call him is just bubbling inside. That was almost an hour ago and you're starting to get worried.

What if something happened to him on the drive home? What if he got into a fight at the bar?

It would be a surprise, but it wouldn't be the first time. Despite the progress he's had through therapy, you know how he can be impatient at times and a little hot-headed too. And maybe a little cocky too, although he would only let that side shine through at Benny's matches.

The trust you have in each other is the one of the main foundations that you've built your relationship on. Opportunities like these are essential to remind, not only you, but also himself of how far he's come.

You remind yourself of that when you hear a car pulling into the condo's parking lot downstairs. It takes all of your willpower to refrain from racing to the window to make sure it's really him. Truthfully, you just want to know if he's alright.

Will's tired legs slowly his heavy body up the single flight of stairs that led up to your small and shared condo apartment. His arms are so sore that he can barely hold the keys in his hand as he unlocks the door. He's never felt so tired, even on his deployments.

For the past 3 months, Will and his team have been working on a new house. He'd gotten into the business of buying and flipping houses which has been working out really well for him.

He loved being able to work with his hands and there is something just so gratifying to him about seeing something come together so beautifully after lots of sweat, work and a little bit of blood whenever he's accidently hurt himself. Will was usually very cautious, but accidents can happen to anyone.

You always supported him and his career since he'd expressed his desire to get into the business. You're thankful he did. Will's really good at what he does and he genuinely loves being so handy.

One of the other perks is getting to watch him in action. There's something so attractive about watching your fiancé slam a sledgehammer to a wall. Will knows you like watching him too, so he'll flaunt his muscles off whenever you come around to bring him some materials or sweet treats for the team.

However, this specific project has really been taking up most of his time and you just cannot wait until it's done and sold.

As usual, Will and the guys get together every Friday night to catch up, watch a game and shoot the shit. It's their own way of making sure everyone - particularly Tom ever since the divorce - are still hanging in there.

Opening the front door to the apartment, he steps inside and locks the door with a tired sigh before near the open plan kitchen to set his wallet and keys on the breakfast counter.

"Hey, baby. Sorry I'm late. Tom got a little carried away with the beers and I had to give him a ride."

"It's alright, honey," you yawn. "Did the guys get home alright?"

You look over the back of the couch and watch him kick off his dusty work boots at the door. His work jeans are tattered, splattered with dried old paint and wood varnish. The faded tan jacket is peeled off his body and hung up on a hook.

A mental note is made in your mind to convince him to buy new clothes when you go out the next time, although you know that'd be a bit of hassle since he's too stubborn to waste money on himself. It's nothing a batting of eyelashes can't handle.

"Yeah, sweetheart. The other guys just had a couple beers, but you know Tom," he struts over as he shares with you, bending down to kiss you hello and plops himself on the couch beside you, manspreading his legs as a arm drapes of your lap, hand stroking your thigh. "He's really going through it."

"I can imagine. You been talking to him?"

"I have, yeah. Invited him to the support group, but you know how he can be."

You nod adjusting to lean closer and thread your fingers through his hair. His blonde eyelashes flutter as he closes his eyes, instantly melting under your touch.

"Yeah, I know, baby. But don't give up. You never know. He might just show up one day."

"I know, sweetheart," he smiles before opening his eyes as his head turns to face you with a gentle squeeze to your thigh. "How was your day, beautiful?"

"Just the same ol'. Made your favorite for dinner though" you smile watching the exhaustion in his eyes slowly fade.

"Pesto chicken alfredo pasta?"

His blue gleam with hope. His pretty pink lips stretch into a wide smile behind the golden whiskers of his beard. You chuckle at how happy he gets when it comes to food.

You know it stems from the lack of indulgence during his deployments. Will's no fussy eater, but when he's home, he indulges when he can to make up for the barely edible chow he and the guys had to eat. Although tasteless and sometimes expired, Will never had any problems with it because he knew the purpose wasn't to be good, but to keep him alive.

That's why he quickly back up on his feet and striding towards the kitchen to heat a plate up for himself, leaving you to snicker at his excitement. If there's one thing that the Miller brothers share, it's their appetite for food.

"How's the house coming along?"

"We finally fucking finished, babe," he grins plating the cold food. "It looks so good though. I cannot wait for you to see it. You are going to love it." Of course. He built it with you and your tastes in mind. "Tomorrow, I'm taking you to see it."

"Really?" you grin.

Your opinion is very important to Will and he always comes to you when he's got doubts and is in need of a feminine point of view, so it's not exactly uncommon for him to bring you to his projects for a look-around.

The next morning, you find yourself in his car listening to No Excuses by Alice In Chains.

With nothing else to do, you sing along to the song as Will drives steadily

“Can I please take this thing off?” you ask adjusting the blindfold he’s got on you. “I don’t want cops pulling us over thinking you’re kidnapping me.”

“Baby, no one’s gonna pull us over” he chuckles at the thought. “We’re almost there.”

You try to focus on the sounds beyond the car in an attempt to locate where you are, but the catchy tune playing from the stereo makes it impossible. The only thing you know for certain is that you’re not in the city. The familiar salty scent strikes you as clear as day.

“Are we at the beach?” your voice fills with excitement.

“You’ll see soon enough. We’re here. I’m gonna help you out of the car, hold on.”

You can hear the smile he’s got plastered on his face. Will finds it cleverly adorable how you figured part of his surprise out already. it's not enough to ruin it though.

Just as promised, he opens the car door and takes your hand to carefully help you out of the car with kind instructions. You hold onto his hand as you settle on the stony driveway. Although from a distance, you can still hear the ocean waves quietly splashing on the shore.

"Take a look," he grins anxiously untying your blindfold.

Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the bright light of the blue sky but, once it does, you freeze in awe of the house before you.

The mediterranean-style house is simple but large and elegant. Red Italian tiles and cream-colored paint exude a rustic and mysteriously familiar feeling that makes you feel at home.

Colorful flowers strategically planted grow in the grassy front lawn. Behind it, potted flowers sit on the low wall that encloses the small garden along the gated pathway to the door.

You and Will had talked about buying a house for a long time. Little did you know, Will had made a list in his precise mind of every little detail that you desired in your forever home.

"Will, this house is beautiful. You might have finally outdone yourself!"

He chuckles filled with relief and joy as he listens to you swoon over every small and carefully thought out detail of the exterior.

"C'mon, let's take a look."

He takes your hand and leads you up the pathwalk to unlock the door. You step inside the empty home and marvel at the space.

"Wow... It looks small from outside, but it's pretty big huh?"

"I thought so too. I kinda liked that about it."

"I love it! It's like a little illusion and then, you come in and it's just so much space," you grin roaming around each room slowly to take everything in.

"Do you like the windows?"

"Yeah, they're lovely. They really add to the mediterranean/contemporary vibe you got going on here. Can we see the kitchen? You know how much I love kitchens," you giggle excitedly.

"Of course. It's right over here."

"The floorplan is really nice and open too, huh? Oh, the sink! You installed the farmhouse sink! Undermount, too! The owners will love that."

Will smiles as he gazes at you, watching your reaction lovingly as you wander around the house and notice every tiny detail that Will spent countless hours pondering over to ensure you would have the house of your dreams.

The project cost him a pretty penny, but every single cent and drop of sweat he had spent investing into this home was certainly worth to see your eyes light up with every nook and cranny.

He led you to the backyard compete with a pool and beautiful stones and bright green plants that made it feel like your own little personal lagoon, with a wooden pathway that leads to a private gateway to the beach behind the house.

In truth, you feel like you're in paradise. You could spend every day in this house without the urge to leave it.

"So? What do you think?" he smiles holding your hips.

"I think this is your masterpiece, babe" you grin holding his strong biceps. "Do you have any buyers yet? I bet this will be the most expensive house you've sold yet."

"Actually, someone's already bought the place... This is ours."

You stare up at him in shock.

"A-Are you serious? You bought this place for us?"

"Mhm," he nods with a shit-eating grin. "The farmhouse sink, the red italian rooftop tiles, the little garden... It's everything that was on your list."

As tears fill your eyes, you hug him tightly and sniffle as your arms tighten around him. You want to thank him, but you're too speechless to say anything although your reaction says everything he needs to know.

You think back to all the long pillow talks you've had, where he'd casually asked you about little bits and pieces he should add to the project. You would have never guessed the project he'd been working on was your new home together.

The mere fact that Will had gone through so much trouble to make this house perfect to every desire makes your swell. Being designed by the love of your life is the finaal cherry on top.

"Thank you, Will," you mumble still stunned as you stare at your new backyard.

"Welcome home, babe."

#william miller #william miller x reader #william miller x you #william miller x y/n #will miller #will miller x reader #will miller x you #will miller x y/n #will ironhead miller #will ironhead miller x reader #will ironhead miller x you #will ironhead miller x y/n #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier fanfic #charlie hunnam

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buddierecs · 3 months ago

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outsider pov buddie fics

there isn't as many outsider pov fics under the mature and explicit tags that i know of/read, so i have added them together. the last two on the list are explicit as stated below :) another thing to mention is that some of these aren't completely outsider pov, for some of them they do have buck/eddie povs make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

bobby versus buddie by: songbvrd "five times bobby tried to gently hold buddie's hands and tell them they were in love, and one time they got the picture." word count: 10k important tags: bobby nash pov, gay!eddie diaz, idiots in love, mutual pining i'm holding on (barely) (this has a pt 2 with a christopher pov) by: cranberrymoons "eddie and buck take christopher home to california; helena and ramon decide to follow" word count: 12k important tags: both eddie and helena pov, parenthood, coming out, therapy, mother-son relationships, healing just to love you by: woodchoc_magnum "in which drunken confessions are made, feelings are confused, and maddie can't help but do a little bit of big-sisterly meddling." word count: 37k important tags: has buck/eddie pov but also 118 team, getting together, secret relationship, soft!buddie, meddling platonic co-parents don't kiss like we do by: thelikeofus "5 times other people see buck and eddie kiss + 1 time they really mean it." word count: 7.1k important tags: 5+1 things, soft!buddie, getting together, fluff, supportive 118, pda

friday (never hesitates) by: pansys_goth_gf "natalia spends the day at buck’s loft and becomes increasingly more aware that he already has a partner." word count: 5.8k important tags: natalia dollenmeyer pov, feelings realisation, didn't know they were dating brand new (full throttle) by: ofthedirewolves "5 times the 118 missed the obvious signs that buck and eddie were dating and the one time they didn't." word count: 6.7k important tags: 5+1 things, 118 crew pov, oblivous 118 crew ---- these last two are explicit, also like to point out that they aren't completely outsider pov, buck and eddie do have a pov in them as well! good pretender by: likeshipsonthesea "an au where buck broke up with taylor before 5b, ravi and buck become (actually platonic) friends with benefits, and ravi, eddie, and buck all go on a journey of self-discovery that ends with them all getting what they need" word count: 85k important tags: has ravi panikkar pov but only for first chap, friends with benefits (buck/ravi), team as family, therapy, friends to lovers, jealous!eddie diaz, mutual pining, explicit sexual content

ours to keep by: brewrosemilk "buck and eddie pass their single, shared brain-cell back and forth, trying to keep their relationship a secret." word count: 8.9k rating: explicit important tags: the last section of fic is chimney pov, secret relationship, crack treated seriously, blow jobs, porn with feelings

#buck x eddie fic #buddie fic #buck x eddie #buddie fics #buddie fic rec #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 show #911 fandom #evan buck buckley #buck x eddie fanfics #buddie recommendations #buddie recs

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propertyofkylar · 7 months ago

Note

crawls in covered in blood

Harper 19 👀?

doctor's orders - m!harper x gn!pc

tags/warnings: 19. kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, medical kink, reader's genitalia left ambiguous

word count: 1810

note: wow....i hope THE harperfucker enjoys this...

“Mhm. And how has your mood been lately?”

You shifted slightly in your chair, sitting on your hands. Dr. Harper was a strange one. He was something of a therapist and psychiatrist. But he also treated injuries, and you had heard he’d even done gynecology work, so you still weren’t entirely sure what kind of doctor he even was. But the pills he prescribed worked well, so you came every Friday to see him.

“Um,” you hedged a bit, but Harper’s encouraging smile urged you forward. “I mean, it’s not great. You know? Things kinda…suck.”

Harper nodded as you spoke, looking the perfect image of a doctor as he jotted down something on his notepad.

“So I guess I’ve just been kind of…down. If that makes sense?” You offered.

Harper nodded again. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Huh?” You hadn’t expected that. Harper offered you a warm smile.

“I’m experimenting with more herbal remedies,” he explained. “I’ve purchased some tea leaves that claim to help with feelings of depression and anxiety. I thought you might like to try some. I know you like the pills, so this would just be a supplement of sorts. It may help lift your mood, even just a bit.”

Something made you feel a little uneasy. But your doctor had never steered you wrong before. And it was just a cup of herbal tea. What’s the worst thing that could happen? It would taste bad?

So, you nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

Harper gave you another smile and stood up, busying himself with an electric kettle in the corner of the room. You watched idly from your seat. Maybe a warm cup of tea would be exactly what you needed.

Several minutes later, Harper handed you a steaming mug. An herbal smell of chamomile, lavender, and something else you didn’t recognize wafted towards you. “If you like it, I’ll send it home with you along with your meds.”

You thanked the doctor and took a sip. It was warm with a mildly sweet taste. “It’s good,” you said, going back in for another sip.

“I’m glad you like it,” Harper said.

At the very least, a warm drink would make you feel better temporarily. The doctor made idle chitchat with you as you continued drinking. By the time you had emptied the mug, though, your head was feeling a little fuzzy.

“Are you alright?” Harper asked, only seeming mildly concerned. “The herb blend does have a relaxing effect. It may be that it’s making you tired.

“Mm…yeah…” you rubbed your eyes, suddenly feeling groggy. “Haven’t been sleeping well lately…”

“Don’t worry,” Harper was leaning forward in his chair, almost in anticipation. “Close your eyes. My next appointment isn’t for a while. You can sleep here for a bit, no worries.”

“‘Kay,” you murmured, your eyes shutting of their own accord. “Just a lil bit…”

You were out like a light.

When you came to, you had no idea where you were.

It didn’t feel like you were still in the hospital, though it still seemed like a doctor’s office of sorts. But the light was harsh and artificial, and you got the feeling this room wasn’t used too often.

Also, your arms were bound to the bed, which wasn’t great.

“Mm?” You were still quite groggy, so actual words didn’t come out of your mouth. You suddenly became aware of a figure looming over you, smiling. “D-doctor…?”

Harper undid your arm bindings, inviting you to sit up. “Sorry for that! I didn’t want you to move around or get violent in your sleep. The…tea effects are a little unpredictable.”

You rubbed at your sore wrists - how long had you been like this? - as you took in the surroundings. “Where did you take me?”

Harper rolled a chair next to the bed, stroking your hair in a rather unprofessional manner. “This is my private office. You need a more intensive therapy.”

You blinked. “I do?”

Harper nodded. “Yes. Your depression and anxiety is rather treatment resistant. I want to try some different things with you to help you get better,” he slid his hands to hold yours. They were cold and smooth. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

There was something wrong. Something was off. But your brain felt so, so fuzzy. “Yeah…that sounds nice.”

Harper beamed and clapped his hands together. “Excellent! Now, let’s begin,” he pulled his notepad out and studied it closely. “You say you’ve experienced rape and sexual assault. Is this right?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Uh…yeah.”

He nodded again and checked something off on the notepad. “Good. Then we are going to have sex.”

“What?!” Your ears were ringing. Did he just say that?

Harper set down the notepad and looked closely at you. “You say the assaults cause you trauma. Correct? I can show you how sex can be pleasurable and it will sort of rewire your brain.” He smiled placidly at you. “Don’t worry, you can trust me.”

It was weird. Something felt off. But…you trusted him. So you found yourself agreeing.

“Good!” Harper smiled warmly at you, standing up in front of you. Despite the smile, there was something oddly intimidating about him. But he was a doctor, and you weren’t. So it was probably okay. Right?

The doctor sat next to you on the bed, moving closer then he’d ever been. “The first step is foreplay. This usually begins with kissing. Are you comfortable with that?” His breath was warm on your face. You nodded.

And then the two of you were kissing, Harper’s mouth surprisingly cold, much like his hands were. “Very good,” he murmured. Harper practically tugged you into his lap and your patient gown rode up, making you suddenly very aware that there was nothing on underneath. Wait, weren’t you in a therapy session before? Where did your clothes go…?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you realized you could feel Harper’s cock rubbing against your most sensitive areas. The feeling drew a whimper out of you, which sparked Harper to reach under the gown and grab at your back.

“P-please,” you whined, grinding down on Harper.

But he did not relent. “Please what?” He asked. “You need to be specific.”

“Please…” you sucked in a deep breath. “Please, fuck me.”

“Very good,” Harper pulled away and beamed. “You’re a very good patient. You learn quickly.”

He reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a small tube. As he squeezed the slimy fluid onto his fingers, you realized what it was - lube. “This may be cold,” Harper said before slipping two fingers into your hole. You bit down on your lip and groaned as the doctor scissored his fingers inside of you. It felt good, but it also felt methodical and practiced.

You pawed at the bulge in Harper’s pants, which he was not expecting judging by his sharp intake of breath. “T-that’s enough,” he stammered, momentarily losing his cool composure. “I think you’re ready now.”

Harper pulled his hand back and unzipped his pants. With one movement he tugged down his pants and boxers and you were suddenly staring directly at his thick cock. It was flushed and twitching, and the bead of precum on the tip gave you the sudden urge to lick it.

But that wasn’t what was going to happen, at least not today, as Harper was stroking his dick with additional lube, and the way he was looking at you - no, leering - was decidedly unprofessional. You were too far gone at that point, though. The only thought in your head was how badly you needed that cock inside of you.

Your doctor grabbed you by the hips and, ever-so-slowly, lowered you down onto his cock. Harper practically hissed as you sunk further and further onto him, until your hips were flush with his.

“V-very good,” Harper managed to get out, his face turning red. This was an act you were quite familiar with, and your instincts kicked in. You started moving up and down, Harper’s hands still gripping you tightly, and he began rocking his hips in unison.

Harper seemed practiced in every aspect, with his cock managing to hit every sensitive spot inside of you. He was consistent, too. Every thrust was almost rhythmic. It made the hospital bed creak and squeak, and if you weren’t almost entirely fucked out of your mind, you would’ve worried about its stability. But all you could focus on was riding Harper and how fucking amazing it felt. Maybe it was that tea you had, or maybe your doctor was just that good at fucking.

His grip on your hips only added to the pleasure and you quickly began feeling heat intensifying within you.

“I think,” you tried to start but were cut off by your own moan. “I’m gonna…”

“Cum,” Harper said plainly, though clearly struggling to stay calm. “You can cum. It’ll - haa - be good for you and your…fffucking treatment.”

You didn’t need Harper to tell you twice, his hips slamming into you. You grabbed onto his shoulders and cried out as the orgasm wracked your entire body. You squeezed your eyes shut, but when you opened them, you noticed Harper was staring intently at you. It felt as though he was staring into your soul.

After several more thrusts, you could tell Harper was about to hit his limit as well. Never easing up on his grip, Harper held you down as he came, filling your insides with his hot cum. The two of you stayed connected for a few moments before he gently pulled you off, you letting out a whine at the loss of contact. Harper quietly studied his cum leaking out of your hole and dripping down your leg, then jotted down a few more notes in his notebook. You wondered what he was writing.

“Well,” Harper smiled at you, straightening his clothes out. “You did a great job. You’re a fast learner. I hope that was pleasurable.”

You could only nod in response.

“However,” Harper looked down at his notebook with a slight frown. “I’m afraid you still have a long way to go. This is only the beginning. I’ll need to keep you here at least for a few more days for further studying and treatment.”

“Oh…” you mumbled. In your post-orgasmic state, you struggled to understand what was going on. But maybe a longer stay wouldn’t be so bad.

Harper stood up, clutching his notebook to his chest, and gave you a few soft pats on the head. “No worries. I’ve already communicated with your guardian and school, so everything will be just fine.” He gave you another grin, one that felt a little less genuine, and made you feel a little uneasy. “Trust me. There is no better place for you to be right now than right here.”

And with that, he left the room.

#degrees of lewdity #dol #harper the doctor #dol harper #dol fanfic #dol x reader #writing #prompt event #this one got a little silly!! and the smut could've been longer #but i couldn't figure it out #o well #i hope u guys like #it was fun to write #just had to um. suspend my disbelief for a bit

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trustmypoison · 7 days ago

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Stray Kids with a therapist!partner

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘I absolutely loved the little drabble/reaction that you did for Seventeen on if their s/o was a teacher, so I was curious if you would be willing to do something similar and horribly self-indulgent for me? Would you be willing to do something similar for either Seventeen, Ateez, or Stray Kids on if their s/o was a therapist or working to become a licensed therapist?‘

Is really fascinated by how easily you seem to be able to give great advice - Hyunjin, I.N.

I don’t think you could be in that sort of career and not naturally be pretty good at giving advice. It’s not that he wants to make you work outside of work or anything, but he really values your perspective on things, particularly because of the experience you have. So sometimes, he’ll approach you and ask what you think about a situation that he or one of the members is going through. Trust that he knows how to read the room and not ask on a more taxing day, but you really are his first thought when he runs into a problem.

Worries about the downsides, such as burnout and vicarious trauma - Chan, Han

It’s very clear when you’ve had a hard day because you’ll come home and just need some time to space out. I’m talking about taking a super long shower (which he knows you do sometimes to sneak a good cry in during) or just going straight to bed, though you aren’t sleeping. If you don’t self-isolate, you can still be pretty distant on those days. He’ll do what he can to comfort you, but there are so many things you can’t really tell him details about. Now and then, he’ll ask if you really like your job and want to continue with it because he worries about how it impacts your own mental health sometimes.

Encourages you to continue your education and specialize in something you’re passionate about - Minho, Seungmin

I know where I live, licensed therapists have to do some continuing education every year. But if you have an interest in a particular topic in therapy, he’s encouraging you to focus on it and perhaps start specializing in it. It could be trauma, or learning disorders, or addiction, etc. It doesn’t matter to him as long as it’s something that you really enjoy. If you get another certification or degree, he magically always has a frame for you to put it in. I fear everyone that he’s ever met knows he’s dating someone who has what he considers to be a really important and special job.

Respects that work often drains your social battery and helps you recharge - Changbin, Felix

These guys seem pretty extroverted, but even the most extroverted people still need a little downtime to recharge. So when you come home on a Friday afternoon after a long week and ask to stay in, he totally gets it. He understands that you’re spending a lot of your social energy on your work with your patients and don’t have much to give when it comes to going out for dinner or drinks or anything else really. Really doesn’t mind camping out on the couch with some takeout, a bunch of blankets, and a movie.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #chan #minho #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #jeongin

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gothicchildofthenight · 3 months ago

Text

Dead-Bird

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 😭)

———————————————————————————-

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.

#rodrick heffley #transmasc #rodrick heffley x reader #x ftm reader #transgender #x black ftm reader

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