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#a very late birthday gift but a birthday gift all the same
theblacklewinsky · 19 hours
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Note: back with our favorite boo, Terry. It's my birthday, but I guess I can gift y'all with something lol! ❤️
Helpful Neighbors. | Aaron Pierre.
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Toxic!Neighbor Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader.
Warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( penetrat!on. toy play, water sports), extreme language (cursing, use of b-word and others.) slight daddy kink if you squint.
Summary: You confront your noisy neighbor about his loud late night company, he allows you to retaliate.
you fucking nasty,
first you cum and then you wipe it on my ass cheeks.
There wasn't much that you knew about your neighbor Terry. You knew he was generally friendly, you bringing him a small housewarming gift of a bath and bodywork's candle when he'd first moved in months prior. You knew he was a vet based on the marines sticker on the bumper of his pick up. You knew he was active, you often seen him heading out for camping trips, often seeing him in the apartments shared gym area when you'd take time out of your busy schedule to get a short work out in. You knew he was gorgeous, anybody could attest to that.
And he was loud. Very fucking loud.
And if you didn't know anything else, you knew that for sure.
The noise varied. Most nights he was particularly quiet, you wouldn't even have noticed anybody lived there if you hadn't seen him before. But some nights, he was a little loud. Metal music from an 80's band bled through the apartment walls, straight into your bedroom, you actually didn't mind it—being an exhausted charge nurse, the metal music did something for you, calming you in a strange way. Him seemingly fixing something, sometimes in the latest hours, drilling, hammering.
But it wasn't any of that. There wasn't any metal music. But he was sure drilling or hammering somebody. And she was extensively louder than anything you'd heard from Terry's apartment. You had to quickly grab your remote, muting your comfort show on your television to make sure she wasn't screaming blood murder.
It wasn't bloody murder, but she was screaming alright. You sighed, it was your first off day in two weeks of working straight in the trauma unit of the local hospital. It'd been a viscous stomach bug going around, and with the big panic from the prior pandemic, the hospital wasn't risking another one slipping up—so work was rough, and long.
But maybe you were bitter? It'd been way too long since you'd properly got your rocks off—not anything involving your beloved rose. So maybe you were just a bit bitter that at least somebody was getting theirs. Good for him! Just not on tonight. Not this night. You'd planned to crawl in bed, eat the most unhealthiest snacks in your cabinet and watch your comfort show, and maybe weep the prior two weeks out onto your pillow, you deserved a good cry after all, girl.
You sighed heavily, placing the pillow over your head letting out a groan. You'd definitely have to catch him in the morning and talk about this, cause this was outrageous.
Maybe sleep was out of the equation, but you'd definitely moved on to weeping.
The morning sprung and you jumped into action. Due to working 7AM to 7PM, you left out for work around the same time as a Terry did his morning runs. 6AM.
You woke up at 5:30 on a mission, brushing your teeth and doing your skincare and putting on your biggest t-shirt, sweatpants to match, oh you meant business.
You caught him as soon as he'd left his door, jogging the opposite way of your apartment toward the elevators before you called out to him. He turned confused at first until he noticed you, giving a lazy morning smile as he did. Black compression shirt, with the pair of black basketball shorts to match. He had no business being so damn fine. But you weren't deterred by that, last night was fucking atrocious.
"Goodmornin', beautiful," he smoothly recited like he did every morning. He was just nice like that. He said it every morning without fail, he always found something to compliment you on. New color of scrubs, how you decided to get your hair, even sweeter when he sees you out of your deliciously fitting scrubs.
"Good morning Terry," you smiled weakly, "I don't mean to disturb your routine, but can we talk for a minute?" You uneasily shifted your weight. You weren't good with confrontation, it just wasn't in your nature, but you didn't play about your sleep.
He nodded and you walked inside still holding the door open for him to signal him to follow you. He did, his smile faltering a bit once he came inside, you could tell he was confused a little thrown off.
You closed the door behind y'all, moving into your large kitchen area to pour yourself a mug of coffee. "Want some?" You politely asked him to which he politely rejected holding up his thermal water bottle.
You added your usual fixings to your coffee, taking a cautious sip, cradling your mug in your hand before you continued. "I don't mean to be confrontational when I say this," you walked around him heading into the living area, plopping on your newly purchased gray plush sectional, " but you were very ...loud last night." You chose your words, nicely.
He featured you a puzzling look, his finger gesturing to the comfortable chair adjacent to you, "of course." You quickly obliged before he took a seat, uneasily continuing. "Your lady...company, I meant." Sex talk wasn't your thing. Sex was sacred to talk about for you—and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable at all.
"Oh shit," he softly cursed, his expression filled with slight concern, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were bein' so loud, I hope we ain't keep you up."
"Oh, it's not a big deal," you quickly intercepted not wanting him to feel any type of way, "it's just my first day off in a couple of weeks so I just wanted to wind down with some quiet time and you guys were very...vocal," you chuckled to diffuse the awkwardness of the conversation, to which he added a light chuckle of his own, "at least somebodies getting their rocks off around here." You said jokingly before taking a sip of coffee. You hoped that didn't sound suggestive.
A short moment of silence followed your statement before you recognized Terry's eyes locked on something behind you for responding, "I see I ain't the only one gettin' mine," you furrowed your brows slowly turning your attention to where he was previously locked on. Your rose, sitting cleaned and comfortably on your end table.
You really had to learn to start putting shit back. 
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Or maybe not.
Somehow you found yourself on your back, pinned to the couch, Terry folding you up in missionary, knees to your chest, rose to your clit as he gave you long, deep, torturing strokes. You couldn't even remember the quick and somehow satisfying foreplay you'd taken to get here—and you didn't even care anymore. You could feel the fat tip of his dick kissing your cervix, and as if you weren't loud enough, you got louder. How ironic? You could barely hear yourself think, or were you thinking at all?
"Mhm," he hummed, his face composed, nothing but his teeth lightly sunken into his bottom teeth as he drilled you in, finger tips of his thumb and pointer finger giving your right nipple light squeezes and tugs, he kept his eyes on you, even when they rolled back, quickly turning up the vibrator, "look at you, mama. Why you bein' so vocal? Why you bein' so fuckin' loud, baby?" He taunted.
"My god, Terry," you whined, breathless, he kept up, dick hitting that spot that made your toes curl. How was he so good at this shit? You understood her completely. It wasn't atrocious at all. Very understandable. Very justified.
"Yeah, baby?" He quirked his brow up, his own soft groans almost mocking yours. "You want her to hear you? She still next door, wake her ass up mama. She kept you up all night didn't she?" He asked tearing his fingers away from your nipples to slap firmly against your cheek prompting an answer from you.
"Yessss," you slurred out, throat raw from moaning and groaning. You'd say yes to anything he asked you in this moment. You'd adopt six German kids and live on a farm with him if he requested you to do so in this moment, the world was his oyster. He was digging you out so good, so deliciously good. He was getting more than your rocks off and you knew that when the pressure in the pit of your tummy came weighing down on your bladder. "Ooouuu fuck! Fuck I'm gonna—"
"Yeah," he chuckled, evil all evident in his tone, all in his smile as he glanced down to the mess unfolding between y'all, "wet this dick up baby, I feel that shit." He groaned, eyes zoning in on the creamy ring you were leaving around him. "Wet me up, and you better wake her ass up when you do."
"Cumming!" You abruptly announced nearly cutting him off from his lewd rant, the sounds of your own arousal clashing with his dick sent you tumbling over the edge, clear juices spurting out of you with so much force it ejected him out as well. It only prompted a more lazy laugh out of him, shaking the suction of the rose on your clit even faster. Trembling underneath him, your breath hitched in your throat as he sent you into complete overdrive, your voice was hoarse once a moan came tumbling out of you loud and broken. Why did you cum so hard from knowing that she was next door, possibly hearing you get your nut off with him?
"I like that shit, mama," he mumbled to you, turning the rose off slapping his free hand down on your clit, watching your body jerk in response. He said nothing dipping his body down momentarily to give your soft, sensitive nub three sloppy, mind numbing sucks. He was so loud and lewd with it, smacks loud, tongue slurping loudly. You were too turned on, too sensitive, but too fucked out to even object given how sensitive you were. He stood up on his knee once again, other floor planted flat on the ground. "Sticking up so pretty f'me and shit," he hummed, "put that ass in the air, I'm finna give her some more."
You whined, you were too tired to move. If this was sex? What the fuck were you having before? And he seemed to insatiable, how was he asking you for more when you already so tattered from your last orgasm?
"Can't," you weakly managed to get out.
He took the initiative to help you, his hands firmly grasping your hips and flipping you over roughly, bringing your hips up into the air, spreading out so nicely for him. He moaned in response, looking at how both your holes seemed to open for him. He slapped his massive hand against your ass cheek, the loud sound seemingly filling your quiet apartment, a high wince following behind it, his dick twitching at the recoil. "You gon be a good girl for daddy and hold this shit on your clit while I take care of you back here?" He asked you the dominating reference only furthering the throbbing in your pussy, one hand softly kneading the sting out from his slap. You could hear the quiet buzzing from behind you, head nodding eagerly as your hand reached from under you, making grabby motions for the toy.
Once it was in your possession, you placed it where he asked you, body lightly trembling since your clit hadn't had a moment long enough without stimulation. Both his large hands had been planted on your ass cheeks, spreading you apart for him. He groaned in response, spitting down onto your second hole winking for him so sweetly, you moaned in response to his lewd action. "Fuck yeah," he muttered sending another lighter slap to your ass. No further words were spoken as he grabbed his girthy member in his hands, fat tip rubbing softly against your slit before he stretched you open once again around him.
A loud whine erupted from you as soon as you felt him sliding into you, stretching you, the light sting providing the perfect pain to compliment the pleasure of him literally stuffing you. It was mind numbing for him, feeling you stretch and clench around him so perfectly, gummy, wet walls feeling so warm and snug around him. "Pussy so fuckin' good," he muttered not sure to who, you or him.
His strokes had already started off staggering; hard and deep. Pelvis slamming into your ass with loud, rippling sounds through your apartment, the force literally nudging your couch across the floor. You couldn't care about the scratches you knew were now engrained in your hardwood flooring, everything was so good. Too good.
"Fuckkkk!" You slurred out, eyes fluttering closed, face pressed against the plush cushions beneath you. Brainless wasn't the word for you. You were hyper focused on the pleasure you were receiving, the vibrations from the toy, Terry's back breaking strokes, and the sounds of your arousal around him didn't help the diagnosis. Your free hand held onto the top of the couch for a sense of stability. "Why—why you fuckin' me like this?!" You stammered out through a moan, voice hoarse and broken.
"What you mean, mama?" He asked through a groan, sending another rough slap to your ass. "You such a good girl, you deserve this dick. Workin' all hard and shit, always lookin' so fuckin' good." He grunted, working himself inside of you. Thumb tracing your asshole teasingly. "You deserve some good dick, baby."
The praise only heightened your moans, encouraging you to slam your ass back on him until you felt your own orgasm once again lurking around the corner.
"Show the fuck out, then, baby," he said breathlessly, stilling his own movements as he watched as you fucked yourself on his dick, ass slamming back onto his pelvis with dizzying recoil.
"Shiiiit! I'm finna cummmm!" You moaned out, your movements only increasing in pace, using him for your own pleasure now. And he ate that shit up.
"That's right, get that nut mama. Get yo' shit, fuck me," he affirmed through a series of groans accentuating your own, "fuck, I feel all that shit. Nasty ass bitch, get that nut." His dirty words filling your ears as you released around him, halting your movements. Squirting for the second time, the orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks literally. This one cramped your muscles as it temporarily paralyzed you, huge steaks of pleasure coursing through you. Terry didn't give you a moment to recover, his own climax brewing in the background. He resumed his strokes as if he never stopped, powerful, fast and hard. The rose clobbered to the floor with a hard thud, still buzzing away as your body flattened into the couch, Terry using his upper body strength to drop dick in you.
"You runnin?" He asked breathlessly through a series of overstimulating strokes to your pussy. "Why you runnin? Daddy, let you get yours right? Let daddy get his." He hummed to you.
You couldn't tell him you were overstimulated. Could you talk at all? Were you even breathing? What the fuck even was this?
"Dick got you goin' stupid, look at you," he groaned, dick hitting that spot again, and again. You came again, with announcement. You hadn't even known you were that close again. "Fuck, you keep cummin' on my dick."
Your voice came back to you in little squeals, nodding in agreement to his last statement.
"Pussy so good—I'm finna nut baby," his voice rushed and panicked as he kept up his strokes, "fuck I'm finna nut—shit!" He hurriedly pulled out of you, groans and grunts spilling from him earnestly as warm, ropes of cum painted your ass.
That was so unreal.
You focused on steadying yourself as you heard Terrys whispered curses behind you. It wasn't long before you heard his lazy chuckle, soft lips kissing down your spine causing a small chill to sneak through you. "You good?"
"Yes? I dunno," you answered bleakly, voice rasped out. Terry laughed gently, hands rubbing some warmth into your thighs and midsection.
"You enjoyed yourself?" He asked softly, kissing up to your neck, and shoulder tenderly. You nodded eagerly to his question, earning another chuckle for him. He sounded so good. "I'm glad, where towels at pretty girl. Lemme clean you up."
"Bathroom closet," you jammed your finger in the direction of the closet. You were halfway into a slumber when Terry came back with a warm towel, cleaning you up gently.
You knew for a fact it was gonna be a lot of noise coming from the both of your apartments.
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still don't have a tag list together but I hope y'all enjoyed another toxic Terry fic 🫡 my favorite Terry after all! Happy Friday! 💗
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turkeydinner-jpeg · 5 months
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(つ✧ω✧)つ
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thebirdandhersong · 2 years
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But where do I put all this love? It's inside of me, growing and festering and threatening to explode out of me. Who do I give it to now? Where does it go? Where does it go to fade away? Where does it go to die a quiet death? There isn't a pair of familiar hands to receive it anymore, and no longer a welcoming mailbox waiting with its mouth open. Where does it all go and where should I put it? Who do I love now, the way I loved that boy?
#what a headache this is. i dont love him anymore which is just as well because oftentimes that ish HURT.#but whose hand do i hold who do i cook dinner for who will turn to me with laughter in their eyes#like they know i understand the joke who will hold the umbrella so far over my head their whole sleeve gets wet#who do i send letters to while full knowing i'll never get a response but still hoping for one who will wink at me across#the dinner tablr who will walk me home who will i think of while im dancing in the kitchen#who will i make tea for who will i agonize over while planning birthday and Christmas gifts#who will i love the same way? where do i put this mountain of love#what do i do with all the little specific ways i learned to love#and who will love me when the only person who has ever looked and me and said i love you and i want to cherish you#was also the person who made me feel like an afterthought a sincere but directionless fling#who made me feel undesirable and unseen and unwanted? i have never felt so unwanted the way i felt at the very end#anyway this is probably a sign that im up way too late anyway what is the point in wondering lol#since breaking up with the boy i have shot my shot with four other friendly candidates#and have been gunned down by disinterest or unfortunate barriers#since breaking up with him four of my friends have gotten engaged and one has begun a new promising relationship#and four others are pregnant. when will i not have to examine my heart#and see the ugliest kinds of covetous resentful thoughts and feelings and be like#ah yes this is not a healthy response#also no wonder the only boy who ever thought you were worth loving never loved you fully and completely#he signed up for what he thought was a beautiful heart a beautiful mind a beautiful soul no wonder he was disappointed
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icemankazansky · 2 months
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A Simple Guide to Not Being Afraid to Write Comments to Fic You Read
I've seen a lot of posts about the current state of fanfiction comments. Writers, especially writers who have been in fandom for a decade or more, are frustrated by the lack of comments, and have noticed a definite decline in comments (and all other forms of reader interaction) in the past ten years or so. Many readers feel daunted by the expectation of leaving comments, afraid they'll do something wrong. As a fandom old maid, the latter confused me for a while, until I realized that most of the people who feel that way probably have not been taught this form of communication.
But your loving fandom elders are here for you. Come along as your auntie tumblr user icemankazansky makes this shit easy.
The easiest way to think of fanfiction comment etiquette is to compare it to something you likely already know: Gift Receiving Etiquette.
Fanfiction began as largely a gift economy. And a lot of it still is! You'll see authors participate in exchanges like Yuletide and Id Pro Quo; those are ficswaps in which authors write for a specific person to specific prompts. And even outside that, fanfiction is not written for money; authors write and post it simply for the joy of creation and community with fellow fans. Fic is posted free for anyone to enjoy. Is that not a gift?
So. When you as a reader finish the chapter or story you're reading and you are faced with the comment box, try to follow the same etiquette you would when receiving a gift. (And even if you didn't love this gift and it's not your favorite gift ever, we already know that it's more useful than the products from your cousin's MLM that they're passing off as gifts, because you read the story. At the very least, it entertained you for the time you took to read it.)
The big rule of gift receiving etiquette is not to insult the person who gave you the gift, either directly or indirectly. That's it. Full stop.
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I've been seeing a lot of comments lately that are just along the lines of, "Thank you for writing this story and sharing it with us." A+, top of the class, full marks, you're doing amazing. If you don't feel comfortable commenting on the story itself, that is perfect feedback. And that's the most basic way you respond to a gift, yes? Thank you for the gift. Thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for sharing.
Does this rule mean that you cannot say anything at all that might be negative about anything? No, absolutely not. What you want to avoid is saying something that is, at its core, a negative evaluation of the author or their work. Let's do some examples.
Character A's obliviousness about Character B's MASSIVE crush on them made me so frustrated! I was tearing my hair out internally screaming, "JUST LET HIM LOVE YOU."
✔️ Excellent comment! You're allowed to have all sorts of feelings about things that happen in the story, and in fact authors LOVE to hear about any emotions they made you feel. Yes, frustration is not a positive emotion, but the thing you are expressing frustration about is not the author themselves or their shortcomings.
Contrast that to:
I was really frustrated that it took you so long to post this chapter. The cliffhanger at the end of the previous chapter had me tearing my hair out, and then you just left us hanging FOREVER!
❌ Nope! Here what you are expressing is frustration with the author and how fast they come out with new chapters. Imagine your sister buys you a gift for your birthday, but she isn't able to give it to you until the next week, and you respond with: "What took you so long?" I think Emily Post would frown on that.
Reframing
The way you say something and the point of view from which you give feedback can have a HUGE impact on the message you're sending. Let's take the last comment (the one about wanting an update) and see what happens when we reframe the same sentiment as a positive:
I was SO EXCITED to see that you updated this story! I have really been looking forward to seeing what happened after the cliffhanger in the last chapter.
✔️ Now it's not an insult. The author will be happy to know that you are happy to see new work from them.
This idea extends beyond the story itself: to the fandom, the characters, the pairing, the tropes, etc. Let's do some examples.
I looooove reading about these sexy boys SO IN LOVE even though the movie you're writing about is SOOOOO problematic.
❌ Nope! Assume that the author enjoys the canon, characters, pairing, etc. in the stories they write. This comment is insulting to the author because it basically says, "That thing you love is not great, and you should probably feel bad for liking it." Imagine your aunt gifts you a sweater from a popular retailer, and you respond with, "This is so cute, I love it! It's a shame that it was made in a sweatshop." Do you have a valid point about the canon or the retailer's business practices? You very well might. Is this the proper time and place to talk about it? Absolutely not.
Let's do a reframing exercise. You should be very careful about how you approach commenting negatively on anything in the story that appears in the tags list, but you can make it a compliment and good feedback if you have the right perspective. See the difference with these two approaches:
I kind of think frottage is disgusting, but I liked it in this story.
❌ Nope! You just told the author you think their kink is disgusting. That's like telling your poor aunt who is just trying to keep you warm this winter that she has awful taste in knitwear. Try again.
Frottage normally isn't my kink, but I love your other stories with this pairing, so I decided to give it a try, and I'm SOOOOO GLAD that I did! This story was 🔥🔥🔥
✔️ "This normally isn't my thing, but you made me expand my horizons!" Authors love to hear that. That's like telling your aunt, "I never thought this color looked good on me, but I look so cute in this sweater! I'm so glad you helped me step outside my comfort zone, because I'm the better for it."
thank u, next
The last thing I want to address is this new trend I've seen in commenting lately: placing an order. If your mom surprises you with new headphones, you don't respond with, "I wanted the white ones 🙁," or, "You should get me a new phone, too." It's easy to see why that isn't appropriate in a gifting situation, and it's also not appropriate when commenting on fanfiction.
Let's do some examples:
This fic was soooo cute, but it would have been a million times better if Character A had been with Character C instead of Character B.
❌ There are a few things going on here. Number one, you're telling your mom you wanted the white headphones, not the ones she actually bought you. You're also disparaging the A/B pairing that the author chose to write about, and as we discussed, we can assume that the author wrote the pairing because they liked it. Even if it's not their favorite and/or they also write A/C, they made a choice for this story to be A/B, and the comments section of a fic is not the place to question choices the author made in their own work.
You should write a story where Character Z who is not even in this story does [thing that is vaguely referenced in the B plot].
❌ "You should get me a new phone, too."
I want a sequel. 😞
❌ "Thank you, next!"
You can reframe this kind of sentiment if you are careful about it, and it's not all you say.
I really loved this story. I would be so interested to see these ideas explored further if you ever decide to write more in this universe.
✔️ Not "gimme." Not "more." This is, "If you build it, I will come." It is a HUGE difference.
You already know how to do this. You know how to graciously accept a gift; just use that same etiquette, and boom! Now you know how to fearlessly write a comment to fic you read. You're doing amazing. Go forth and comment.
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imthatqueerkid · 2 years
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mistiell · 3 months
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We Keep this Love in a Photograph
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summary: since Joel gifted you a polaroid camera for your birthday, you've developed a habit of sneaking pictures of him whenever possible. He doesn't think he's worth the film "wasted" (His words, not yours), but after catching you looking over your accumulated gallery, you manage to win him over.
wc: 1.1k
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Joel's a little self conscious, Reader's gender isn't specified, and they have hair but the length isn't specified either. If I accidentally did use a gendered term, lmk and I shall fix it. <3 NOT PROOFREAD (will likely come back to fix any mistakes later)
a/n: HOLY SHIT I'M BACK!!! This fic was inspired by this TikTok. I saw it and the Joel obsession possessed me so viscerally I had to make a comeback lmao.
**NOTE: I've linked ways to help Palestine here. If you're in a position to donate anything at all, please do! If not, you can reblog the post that's linked so it gets out to more people.
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It started on your birthday.
You’d shared with Joel one evening, wrapped warm and snug in his arms within your soft haven of sheets, during one of those late night conversations where vulnerability doesn’t seem like a thing so daunting, that you used to love photography. Loved immortalizing things you loved or things you found beautiful. He’d asked what kind of camera you’d had, what kind of things you usually took pictures of.
“Polaroid.” you’d told him softly, fighting you keep your eyes open with his tracing shapes into the curve of your waist. “And I already told you. Whatever I found beautiful.”
The morning of your birthday, you woke to the smell of coffee and a clumsily wrapped box sitting on your bedside table with a note taped to the top; Happy birthday, honey. Love, Joel. And in smaller print near the bottom left corner; P.S. Wait until I’m here to open it. Wanna see your face.
You’d smiled, bashful, brushed your teeth in record time, scooped up the box, and made your way downstairs towards the sound sizzling and the tapping of a spatula on a pan. He gave you a good morning kiss, pretended to make a fuss about waiting until after breakfast to open it and watched with a smile as you carefully tore it open, popped off the lid, and visibly softened at first sight of the contents.
It was a polaroid camera. Coincidentally, the very same one you’d had twenty years ago.
You’d cried, he’d panicked. You hugged him so fiercely, any worry that he’d fucked the whole thing vanished as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you close.
That was months ago, and in the time since, you’ve accumulated quite the gallery. You take pictures of just about anything and everything, but your main muse is Joel.
Which is what’s led you to have half a shoe box full of polaroid of mostly him. He’s no idea of your little stash, and you intend to keep it that way. You’ve come to learn he’s got a thing about being photographed. Always nitpicking his appearance no matter what you say. He asks sometimes when he catches you why you don’t choose something nicer to look at, and your answer is generally always the same. There is nothing nicer. He walks into a room, and all you want to look at is him. Yeah, he’s got some more lines, got some more meat on his bones, his hair is a little more grey than it is brown these days. But he doesn’t see it the way you do.
He’s got crows feet and smile lines etched almost as deep as the crease between his brows. He looks healthy now that he’s actually got food to eat, meals you’re both sure to share every morning in your kitchen and every evening in the dining hall. His greys are a tangible reminder that he’s alive, that he’s survived, and that he now gets to live, and you’re incomprehensibly grateful for every russet strand turned silver. He’s all the more beautiful for all of it. And here, tucked into your armchair, polaroid pinched between thumb and forefinger, you get to commit every little detail picked up by your camera to memory.
Your gaze follows the sloping curve of his lovely nose, profile softened by the sun shining white behind. It’s only one half of his face, but the beaming smile he’s sporting makes you feel whole. His hair was just starting to get longer, then, curling near his nape and flicking round his ears to kiss his jaw.
“What’s all this?” You startle, head leaning into the plush back of the chair to look at him upside down as you press the pictures into your diaphragm. He seems curious, if a little confused.
Caught, you swallow, “If I said nothing, would you believe me?”
“Not for a second.” He smiles teasingly, bending to give you a quick peck, bottom lip warm where it slots between yours. Your hold on the photos loosens, and when his gaze dips to them, the smile shifts into something closer to a frown, a little cagey, “S’ that me?”
“Yeah.” You answer simply, before joking tentatively, “Swear I’m not a creep. You’re just pretty.”
“See now, that’s exactly what a creep would say.” He teases, and you’re glad for it – that he’s not upset. Rounding the chair, he sits on the arm, elbow propped up on the soft back of it and knuckles warm on the nape of your neck.
“Pretty.” He echoes, blowing a short puff of air out his nose, “Never been called that before.”
“Well, you are.”
He smiles again, bashful and a little disbelieving. There’s a short moment where he just looks at you like that, backs of his fingers sliding down your spine a few notches then back up in a tender line before he juts his chin toward your collection. “Show me?”
Warmth blooms in your stomach and fizzes up behind your sternum. You grin, handing him the one you were holding before sifting through the shoe box for your best works. He accepts your compliments and sweet talking reluctantly, but hangs onto your every word as you describe where you were, what you were doing, what made you sneak the picture in the first place.
You start to worry his limited responses mean he’s gotten caught up in his head until his hand slides up the side of your neck and settles over the side of your head, the warmth of his calloused palm encompassing the entirety of your ear as he guides your temple to his lips.
“Love you.” He murmurs into your hair, and the warmth sizzles like its carbonated, bubbling and burbling within the cage of your ribs.
You turn your face, slip your fingers beneath the curtain of hair at his nape and lift your chin to kiss him soft and slow. He rubs an affectionate line into the soft skin behind your hear as he hums, vibrations thrumming against your lips.
You lean back just enough to murmur, “I love you to.”
He smiles, kisses you again. And again. And once more. He asks you to show him more of your pictures, and you oblige. It’s early evening when you’re finally through, at which point Ellie’s come home and Joel’s started on dinner. You let her sift through the polaroids while you move to join Joel at the counter.
You won’t realize until later that she’s snuck a photo of the two of you by the stove, Joel’s large palm on the small of your back where you’ve taken over stirring a pot, gazing at you like you’re the only thing he’d like to listen to for the rest of his days as you talk and talk and talk.
That one, he hangs on the fridge.
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Note
So...I was wondering if you had a post on information concerning Ace's older brother? Purely for research purposes of course...😅
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Ask, and you shall receive!
This is a compilation of all the canon information I could find on Ace’s older brother. He has yet to be named, so 😅 errrr… I'll be referring to him as “Anippola" (as in “Trappola aniki”) in this post.
Anippola is older than Ace by 7 years.
According to Ace, his brother was even more excited about Ace getting into NRC than their parents were.
Before Ace was accepted into NRC, his older brother would take him along with him to various places.
He is an alumnus of NRC and was previously in Heartslabyul dorm; this is why Ace is not surprised when he, too, is sorted into Heartslabyul.
Ace talks with his older brother over the phone. Sometimes they talk late into the night, which occasionally makes Ace late in the mornings.
He “built up a whole repertoire of magic tricks” from his days as a NRC student. Ace learned them by playing watching, memorizing, and then finally replicating those magic tricks, since Anippola refused to tell him how to do them. It is through these kinds of experiences that Ace has become quite adaptable.
He learned some sleight of hand tricks from their magicless father too.
Whenever the Trappola men are together, they will challenge each other to pull off various tricks.
Ace reports that his older brother told him "the most convincing lies are sprinkled with a dash of the truth". This implies that Ace may have learned how to lie so cleverly from Anippola, or at the very least was inspired by his advice.
Ace's brother bought a luxury watch with his first paycheck. He framed it as though it was Ace's birthday gift, but then revealed the item was actually for himself and gave Ace an empty box instead.
Anippola later apologized and gave Ace a box of candy, which annoyed his little brother (because Ace says he's not a little kid, of course he wouldn't be happy about receiving candy!)
Another time, Anippola purposefully snuffed out the candles on Ace's birthday cake. This resulted in a fight between the brothers.
From these stories, we can deduce that Anippola s a prankster.
He did his 4th year NRC internship at a theme park management company designing shows and attractions. (The dialogue could also be interpreted as generally working in the entertainment industry, not specifically for the theme park company.) Anippola currently works for that same place.
There is supposedly a picture of Ace's brother hung up in the hallway by the teacher's lounge. The photo is from when Anippola led the card solider parade for a Magical Shift/Spelldrive opening ceremony.
Ace says his brother is not the type to make sweets for him.
Anippola wasn't all too interested in dorm life.
He told Ace about various ways to kill time at his dorm.
Ace describes Anippola as someone who is light-hearted, casual, and easy to get along with.
Ace also admits that it can be advantageous to have an older brother, as they are an example to follow and could support him in that way. He specifically mentions school life and job hunting as examples.
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barblaz-arts · 4 months
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I've come back to drop some Next Gen Nevermore lore, this time about Sora and Regine's parents 💕
Yukiko Toriyama
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Because of my love for parallels, she's a doctor to match the adult characters in the show (Principal - Weems/Bianca; Sheriff - Galpin/Walker). She's a surgeon though, not a therapist like Kinbott, but still a doctor!
Yukiko's around Wednesday and co's age, so she was also in Jericho High when they were in Nevermore. She has a huge respect for Outcasts, thinking that they are very cool. In fact, she thought this one siren girl that she first saw during Outreach Day was especially cool. Soon she will find out that her name is Bianca Barclay and that her classmate Lucas Walker will end up dating her.
She met Sora's father some time after graduating from high school. She fell for his confidence, and was especially impressed that he was an Outcast. Unfortunately she realized too late that he's all talk. When she got pregnant with Sora, his rich parents essentially sent her hush money, which she accepted and used to pay for med school. Sora's grandparents helped raise her while Yukiko finished her studies, so she wasn't as present as she probably should have been during Sora's childhood. She tries her best though, really.
Hugo Schuyler
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Sora's father. He came from a rich and reputable family of psychics that specialize in spirits, also known as Herons. Because of his family's reputation, he developed a huge ego and has delusions of grandeur.
He's a glutton for attention, a trait that Sora unfortunately inherited as she also always makes an effort to fit in with "the popular crowd" among her peers. However unlike Sora who is ashamed of her outcast status and prefers to hide her power, Hugo has a superiority complex and overcompensates for his weak psychic abilities by being obnoxiously loud about his outcast status and his family's name.
He ends up starting a YouTube channel as a paranormal investigator after Nevermore. When he finds out he has a daughter, he's quick to head over to Nevermore and rope Sora into his paranormal shenanigans. No, it doesn't end up being a cute father-daughter bonding activity.
He sees both Wednesday and Enid as rivals. Wednesday for her formidable psychic powers (and reputation!), Enid for, well, her more successful YouTube channel(which isn't even hers, it's the Wolf Preserve's). Wednesday does not remember him from their high school days though, and Enid purposely mixes him up with Xavier when addressing him.
Vega hates him because he thinks aliens don't exist.
Erica Gutierrez
(I don't have her design and personality fully conceptualized yet, sorry)
Erica is Eugene's ex-wife and is a famous actress who started out when she was a teenager. She used to be a celebrity crush of Eugene's when he was in Nevermore, and dating and marrying her was a dream come true that sadly didn't last.
Erica makes an effort to see Regine when she can, and she usually has her daughter stay with her throughout the summer. Her fame comes with its own cons, particularly the excessive attention she(and by extension her family) gets hugely contributing to Regine's overly reclusive personality.
Erica had nothing to do with Outcasts before meeting Eugene and is every bit of a Normie. She and Wednesday never liked each other. She gets along well with Enid because she thinks Enid is normal enough when she isn't wolfed out. Enid likes her for getting her Michelle Yeoh's autograph and a video message as a birthday gift once. (Wednesday hates that Eugene's ex wife of all people showed her up that year)
None of the Nevermore student knew Regine's mother was a celebrity until Erica decided to give her daughter a surprise visit during Family Day(coincidentally the same day Hugo goes to meet Sora. It was a long weekend for the girls)
(masterpost for my AUs here)
EDIT: I ALMOST FORGOT!
Partial credit to @whitebeltwriter for coming up with Yukiko's background with me. I no longer remember which parts were my idea and which is hers, but pls know that it was a collaborative effort
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junicult · 11 months
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!! the bachelors as fathers
contains ; sfw! sooo much fluff. fem!farmer. unnamed child. established relationships — marriage. your child is implied to be around kindergarten age. men that are good w kids hehehe. not proofread / slightly rushed in some parts. i’ll edit it later LOL.
note ; i get asks on this topic at least twice a week. i’m finally caving. here’s my birthday gift to you <3
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harvey.
- he was honestly made to be a father.
- despite his taller stature, there was something about him that felt so comforting.
- if a child had walked up to him all alone, sobbing with snot down their nose, he didn’t hesitate to kneel and help them find their parent.
- soothing them, grabbing their hand and asking questions to calm them down.
- no, it wasn’t a daily occurrence but it’s definitely happened to him a couple times. and each and every time he was able to help them relax, and easily reunited them with whomever their guardian was.
- he’s good with kids. always has been.
- he probably even had a babysitting job every now and then when he was younger.
- there’s was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to have his own when he grew up. and when you just so happened to stumble into his life, marrying him with the same ideals…well.
- you obviously knew he wanted kids before you got married.
- and when you realized you wanted him to be the father of your child; was another one of those instances where you got to see just how good he was with them.
- hearing how sweet he’s always been to vincent during his doctor visits, especially when the boy was younger.
- he’s a girl dad. say what you will, but he is.
- he’ll sit at the unbelievably tiny table, cramped in the tiny chair with his knees up to his chest while he tips back the empty teacup and his pinky in the air.
- he’ll even wear the tiara.
- zero complaints.
- you and his daughter would literally be the most important things in the entire world to him. he’d do anything for you two.
- like…ugh. oh my god.
- sometimes you’d come home late, and you’d walk down the hall to hear his gentle voice animatedly in your daughters dark bedroom.
- and you’d peek in, and there he was sitting at the end of her bed, quietly reading while she sleepily listens all tucked in.
- or even times when you’d wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, confused.
- so you’d walk out to go find him, having no clue where the hell he was so you check your daughters bedroom,
- and well, there he is. long ass limbs tucked and haphazardly strewn about to make room for your daughter who lays next to him sleeping peacefully in her toddler bed.
- he’s not asleep (obviously), but he lays with his eyes closed until you gently creak the floorboard.
- “she had a nightmare.” is all he says, and it’s enough to make you smile.
- even though he’s already so health conscious…it only grows after you have a child.
- “did you brush your teeth? make sure to get the gums.” “a balanced breakfast is the perfect way to start the day!” he sounds like a elementary classroom poster.
- the minute someone in the house sniffles…he’s checking everyone’s temperature.
- during the winter, he’s at the door wrapping your daughter in multiple puffy coats, scarves, earmuffs, gloves, before letting her step outside.
- you’re not off the hook either, but you never bundle up the way he wishes you would.
- “why doesn’t mommy have to wear this?” she pouts while he’s helping her in her thick boots.
- “why don’t you ask her that?😊” (he’s instigating.)
- i’m telling you, girl dad.
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sam.
- his own kids weren’t on his radar when you guys first started dating.
- but he’s always liked them. especially when vincent was born.
- he was that lowkey irresponsible but very responsible older brother.
- like, he’d be in his teens telling his very impressionable younger brother to say bad words and then would act shocked when he got in trouble for saying them.
- but when it came to being the oldest man in the house while their dad was away, he really showed maturity in helping jodi and being there for them.
- and while you both established a committed relationship, that one day you’d want to be married and have kids—he idealized it a bit more.
- but then again, it was still one of those things you both needed to really think and talk about before you even acted on it, especially since you got married young.
- lol i feel like jodi or marnie forced u guys to watch jas and vincent for a weekend once.
- and after how well it went, that was kinda when it clicked that you guys were ready.
- he’s both a girl dad and a boy dad.
- he’d literally jump for joy for either outcomes. he was just excited to finally be a dad after years of daydreaming of it.
- as much as i don’t wanna say it, i still feel like he’d be much better at the fun stuff then the parenting stuff.
- i just think it’s bc he thinks with his heart more then his head, and when his child is sad and pouting, he’s too sympathetic to hold his ground.
- he wouldn’t leave it all for you to do, but he’d definitely be worse at scolding if you aren’t by his side.
- like, she colored all over the walls or something. his initial reaction would be to freak out and find a way to clean it before you’d find out (he doesn’t wanna add more work to your busy day), but then he’d scold.
- “no, don’t do that. wall, bad. paper, good. understand? nod if you understand,” …well he’s trying.
- then you’d come home to see him scrubbing the walls while your child blissfully doodles in her coloring book on the floor beside him.
- if he had a son, he’d have a little bit of practice from those few years where he babysat vince.
- lol, there’s a lot of features your son would inherit between the two of you.
- but personality wise…your son is definitely a mini-sam.
- and imagine one day, it’s the early stages of spring so sam’s typical allergies start to act up.
- you’ve always known how to handle him when he gets really sick. but picture your red-nosed, leaky-eyed husband standing behind you while you rummage through the medicine cabinet,
- and all of a sudden you hear a familiar sniffle from down the hall.
- you just freeze, slowly turning to face sam who’s making the same face that you are. until he starts to laugh.
- yeah. so now here you are, both of your boys snuggled in bed with the same sickly look, mumbling about how grateful they are that you’re there to care for them.
- and here’s the thing. if your son is sam’s mini-me…then i can assure you you’re stuck with two of the clingiest boys by your side.
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shane.
- he never really thought he’d get a loving, happy family of his own.
- but he definitely daydreamed of it in times when he really just wanted an escape.
- he was always the best with jas.
- he doesn’t necessarily treat her like his daughter. but it’s not like she gives him any reason to.
- he doesn’t treat her like a child, per say. just kind of like another person. probably bc of their trauma bond lol
- he cares for her like an older brother cares for his little sister.
- so even though he has jas in his life, someone he cares for so strongly, he still doesn’t think of himself as being a good father.
- when he met you though, and you were so reassuring and sweet, that thought definitely changed.
- it went from him seeing a life alone, to pondering a family of his own.
- when he finally had the motivation to clean himself up, it approached a couple years since he’s been sober and it was definitely in the forefront of his mind to start a family with you.
- i also think of him as a girl dad. i can’t picture him as a boy dad at all not even gonna lie 😭
- like he’d be the kind of dad that would dress as the supporting character in your daughter’s favorite movie for halloween (spirits eve wtvr)
- also the kind of dad that’d join in on tea parties as well, just with the most plain look on his face despite him not minding being there.
- also…let me tell you there would be a whole inside joke swear jar thing in ur house.
- when your daughter was old enough to decipher what words were “good” and “bad,” the swear jar became very important.
- i think it started when you were pregnant.
- “ah fuck, i think i cooked this wrong. damnit.” he’d mumble.
- “we should probably stop saying those before the baby comes.” you hum, and he looks at you all confused.
- “saying what?” bc they’re in his daily vocabulary to the point where he forgets they’re “inappropriate.”
- so there came the swear jar. and every now and then it’d be a little inside joke when he swore, you’d look at him like, “drop a dollar in the jar😁”
- and when you’d say one, he was so petty matching your exact tone and smile.
- your daughter just grew up with it. it became an even bigger inside joke when you were all sitting at the kitchen table one night, he leans in to take a bite of food and, “shit! that’s hot.”
- before you even said anything your daughter smiles exactly like you would, “that’s a dollar in the swear jar, daddy.”
- ur both STUNNED. and also very proud in a sense.
- you just burst out laughing while he tries to think of a counter, but really, he’s too amused to even say anything back (thus drops a dollar in the jar!)
- 😓😓he’d be the sweetest when it came to his daughter all sad about something.
- no matter what it was. even if she as much as scrapes her knee, he would be so affectionate.
- he’s not the “walk it off” kind of dad.
- if she came to him sobbing, he’d immediately calm her down by picking her up and propping her on the couch, searching for the stuff you use for wounds in the cabinets.
- “it’s okay, you’re okay. it was just a little scrape, you won’t even feel it tomorrow.”
- and he’s wiping her tears, pressing a kiss to her forehead before going into the freezer and getting her ice cream (before dinner😨) saying, “don’t tell mommy, okay?”
- although you try finish up work early enough to tuck your daughter in bed, sometimes you end up running late.
- so uh…shane sometimes forgets to put her to bed, and of course she’s not gonna say anything!!! bedtime is a child’s worst nightmare!
- and usually when that happens, you’d end up coming home to the sight of the two of them, knocked out sharing the same blanket on the couch, cuddled up together while the tv’s still on.
- and when that happens, well, you find it a little hard to take that sight away.
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sebastian.
- girl dad. sorry i just had to start with it.
- maybe i could see him with a son, but honestly…no i can’t.
- but i’m not gonna lie to you,
- for a while i feel like he didn’t want kids. not really at least.
- he’d think about them and it was always a nice idea, until he really thought about it and all the mess that babies come with lol.
- plus at the point in his life when you two met, he just wasn’t ready. for a while at least.
- when you talked about it, the topic of children was only on the table. you knew you wanted them, just not yet.
- it took a good handful of years before you actively started trying.
- even though he was prepared during your pregnancy, i feel like it didn’t hit him he was a father until after ur baby was born.
- he fell in love. swear.
- like…that tiny, wrinkly little lump was his. he helped make that. and not only was it his but it was also the woman he loves’.
- it took him a while to get into the system of it all when it came to caring for the baby. i’m talking changing diapers, feeding, burping, things like that.
- but when he was left alone with her, he was kinda in his own little world. he could hold her all day and never get tired.
- and that was a concept so crazy to him bc he didn’t get that kind of love from a father growing up.
- which is exactly why i feel like he’d actually be such a great dad.
- he could be stern when he needed to be, but never strict.
- “eat your greens,” kinda dad LMAO. especially if you were the one to make them.
- when she’d come up to him with the messiest doodle of your little family on a piece of paper, he’d think of it as a masterpiece.
- he’s not very expressive tho LOL like he’d look at the drawing and only smile, a little “thank you,” in a sweet tone.
- that’s just how he is lol. on the inside he’s sobbing.
- it would always end up on the fridge.
- he spends a lot of time at home.
- which results in a lot of time he spends with your daughter, even while he’s doing his own thing on his computer working.
- but nearly every day he was greeted with a, “daddy, can we go somewhere? what’s mommy doing?” and depending on where you were, he’d help get her shoes on and take her out on a walk to go find you.
- she got her outdoorsy side from you, that’s for sure. but because she needs a guardian, he’s gotten much more used to being outside.
- it was often you’d be working on your crops outside, wiping sweat from your forehead & turn around to your daughter eagerly wanting to help.
- now, this is not to say that your relationship w sebastian was poor before you had your daughter, i’m not saying that at all,
- but because of her adventurous personality, and clinginess to the both of you—your bond grew even more.
- “she wanted to see you.” he’d sheepishly smile, leaning to press a kiss to your forehead while you both turn and watch her feed the chickens.
- “didn’t you have that website to finish?”
- “…okay i wanted to see you too.”
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alex.
- absolutely wanted a family. holy shit there’s zero doubt in my mind.
- he’s kinda wanted a more traditional household, probably based on the ideals he grew up with.
- but he absolutely didn’t mind you being the breadwinner. he honestly enjoyed it much more.
- he’d spend hours daydreaming about living on the farm with you. carrying one child on his shoulders and holding the other’s hand while guiding them around the town’s fair.
- and lowkey, i feel like one of his favorite topics of conversation was discussing how your children would be raised lol
- talking in bed at night like, “i think our son would be a gridball fan. maybe even grow up to be a player himself.” while he sighs longingly.
- which also ties into me believe he’s a boy dad. you know he is.
- i definitely feel like he’d have a boy and a girl. it’s his dream.
- he’d be fine with two boys or two girls but when he daydreamed about his future, it was always you, your son & your daughter.
- it’s just once again the traditional picture of a household and even though i don’t really think he’s that old fashioned after he met you, i still believe he’d want 2 kids.
- he would seriously daydream it all the time. the months of your pregnancy, when you found out it was a boy he really saw his future fitting like a puzzle piece.
- after a couple years, your son (who may i add was literally his mini-me) got a bit older, you both discussed it was time for another.
- and when you found out it was a girl…god. i definitely think he cried, disagree all you want.
- he’s such a caring dad. i believe he wants the best for his children, and he knows what it was like to be neglected so i can never imagine him being like that.
- first of all, you already know every single day of the summer he’s bringing them down to the beach.
- packing a bag, (that takes him halfway through the day before he realized he forgot towels) propping up beach chairs & an umbrella for shade.
- he’s never opposed to a good sand castle. especially when he remembers to bring the little molds that help with the foundation.
- kneels in the shallow end, standing close to his kids when they want to swim.
- and he’s always a fan of recapping it with you at the end of the day.
- “tell mommy what you found at the beach,” he ushers, bouncing your daughter on his hip while your son eagerly begins.
- i feel like after having children, not only is he a good dad, but he becomes an even better husband to you.
- he just loves how hard you work for him and your family, so you can bet on mother’s day, or your birthday, he’ll be all about making it special for you.
- all of them wake up earlier then you, making breakfast (well, watching him make breakfast) before they put it all on a plate and deliver it to you in bed.
- ur the kind of parents that other parents are jealous of, y’know?
- he’s just so in love with you, and the kids you made. it makes him love you even more.
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elliott.
- he’s always wanted kids. he would find himself daydreaming, even when he was in his early twenties, about one day raising a child with the person he loves.
- when he met you was the start of his writing career.
- at that point, it was a little underwhelming, which was the perfect opportunity to get start a relationship with you.
- you were both fairly busy, but the thing about his job was he could lounge in your cottage while you were off working,
- and when you were able to spare a few minutes, you could stop in and see him.
- while your relationship progressed, you began the discussion of getting married and having children one day.
- it just so happened to be right when his career was taking off when you finally settled into your lives together.
- which postponed trying for a little while, but eventually you were able to.
- lol, i’m gonna say it;
- without a DOUBT a girl dad.
- oh my god he would daydream of having a little you running around, tuft red hair with your sweet smile.
- and with how melodramatic he is, imagine that projected onto your daughter LMAO.
- if you couldn’t find him in his typical writing room sometimes, all u had to do was walk to your daughters room where he propped up his own little desk.
- just so he could be near her.
- he also is just entranced at all times, he loves holding her, just looking at her.
- he’s extremely helpful.
- for the most part, he was always immediate to react if your newborn needed something. the second she’s cry, he was up on his feet telling you to stay put.
- he’s just very understanding with how busy you are, and he never minded spending more time with his daughter.
- if it was the middle of the night, and she needed something, he’d always shake his head to you pushing off your blankets, whispering, “i got it, my love. go back to sleep, i’m sure she’s fine.”
- especially on days where he knows you’re particularly stressed, he’s not letting you lift a finger.
- anyways, it carried on when your daughter got older, too.
- she’d walk in all, “mommy, i threw up,” & he was on his feet to help before you even registered what happened.
- he’s just always been fantastic help.
- one of his favorite things to do is read to her.
- similar to harvey, except ten times more.
- he’s acting out each part, using different voices for different characters, making a grand show of it all just to hear his daughter giggle.
- it’s become a habit every night, and since you’re typically busy most evenings, it’s often you’ll come in to find him mid-storytelling.
- even if you intend on reading to her, you always end up stopping to let him finish. he’s so entertaining with it that even you’re interested in this plot line for 2 year olds.
- he’ll never skip this routine.
- and when he kisses her goodnight, he tucks her in, pushes her hair from her forehead and bends down to plant a soft kiss.
- “goodnight, sweetheart. sweet dreams.” he always says.
- he’s gentle with you, he’s even gentler with her.
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bluesidez · 6 months
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GymRat!Miguel Part 5
content warning: very fluffy, PDA ➡️ something in which the reader is shy about and Miguel is hungry for, Miguel’s bday is 10/13 here, it gets suggestive so MINORS BEWARE, George O’Hara is NOT abusive in this story and he will be Mexican here idc idc idc, some mentions of food (deer meat at one point), some of the gym photos are white men (my deepest apologies, I just want y’all to have an idea of the pose 😔)
word count: 4.3k (just nod and smile. she's thicc like me😗)
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
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GymRat!Miguel who learns your schedule front to back. He’s always there to walk you to your classes and carry your heavy bags and purses. Sometimes he’ll meet you outside of your dorm, sometimes you’ll send him your location and he’ll come running. Now, you both walk into the lab building hand in hand and leave the building swinging hands. You used to despise those lovey-dovey couples who were stuck in their own world, but now you could understand them completely. They were still a little annoying, though.
GymRat!Miguel who makes a habit of sending you post workout pictures in the early mornings. His go-to poses are the worm’s eye under-chest, the standing mirror, the bench mirror, and the back mirror. The last one was specific to his dorm bathroom, too shy to take his shirt completely off. Your thorough praises made him feel warm, but sometimes you let more silly things slip.
“You could probably choke me with your thighs and I’d be thankful”
“Baby don’t say that. :(( I would never hurt you”
“Oh so you can want me to sit and lay on you but I can’t ask for the same? Wow. The double standards”
“That’s not fair. You should sit on me. I can take it and I want it. Thoroughly.”
“Oh! So you’re saying I’m not strong enough. Got it.”
“Baby I never said that!”
“Whatever Miguel 🙄”
“ㅜㅜ”
“You never answered me though. Will you sit on me?”
“Go get ready for class 😒”
“😞”
GymRat!Miguel who tells you that his birthday is coming up at the last minute possible. You berate him for telling you so late and kick yourself for not asking sooner, but you still manage to get a reservation at one of the fancy local restaurants.
You pull out all of the stops you could. A gift card from Smoothie King, a pair of slippers to match yours, the newest Final Fantasy game, and a muscle bunny keychain to match your muscle bear keychain. He was your big teddy bear, after all.
You handed him the gifts after the staff brought out a chocolate cake with sparklers on it while singing at the top of their lungs. The chocolate syrup read “Happy Birthday Miguel 🤎” around the plate.
Miguel’s smile got bigger as he took the gifts out one by one. He paused when he got to the cards: one a birthday card and the other a thick “open when…” manilla envelope.
The birthday card was simple and sweet. It was the other stuff you were worried about. You found these cute ideas about letters and notes to leave for your significant other. You had one for anger, sadness, needing a hug, sickness, boredom, and even one for wanting a kiss. You remember Jess walking in on you with your lips smashed against the cardstock, trying to get a bunch of kiss marks to cut out. She just sighed out a “young love” and carried on to her side of the room.
“It’s only been a short time since we’ve been dating, but Thanksgiving and Christmas break are coming up so I wanted to leave you with something for when you can’t reach me.”
Your heart is thumping as Miguel takes the cards out, reading their envelopes.
What you don’t expect is for Miguel to start crying.
You startle a bit, scared that the gift is awful, but he lets out a watery thank you, flustered from everything.
You quickly make your way to his side of the table and hug him. You wipe at his eyes and chuckle at his cuteness, telling him you were afraid he didn’t like it.
He shakes his head, breathes deep and slow to calm his emotions.
“No, I will definitely be using all of these. I really appreciate this. Everything. I’m not sure how you were able to do all of this, but I’m thankful that you did.”
You couldn’t take it. Here he was with dewey eyes and red tinting his cheeks. It was cuteness overload.
You face him towards you and lean forward, connecting his lips to yours.
GymRat!Miguel who stares at you stunned when you lean back. That was your first kiss with him. His first kiss with you and he was sitting here with his cheeks damp and nose sniffling away.
“I-” his heart picks up and he’s opening and closing his mouth. He was short circuiting.
“Can we- I mean if it’s ok, can we do that again?” Miguel stutters out.
You simply nod your head and lean in again, this time tilting your head.
The cards in Miguel’s hands drop to the table and his breathing stops. Your lips were soft and full. Another fraction of his dreams that were nothing compared to the real thing.
He could only hear his heartbeat and the soft jazz music in the restaurant when he let up for air.
This was definitely the best gift of the night.
GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed when the waiter comes and asks if you two need anything while he’s leaning down for another kiss.
He just got to kiss his dream girl. Who cares if the waiter saw him kiss you some more?
You jump when the waiter’s hands come close to you two as he picks up an empty dinner plate. You look to the waiter awkwardly to apologize and ask for the check.
This just makes Miguel want to pull you in his lap and kiss you as the entire staff goes by.
GymRat!Miguel who wants you to feed him bites of his cake. You happily agree, especially since he was the birthday boy. His eyes never leave you the whole time.
GymRat!Miguel who grabs the check before you can pick it up. He doesn’t want you to pay for the meal.
“Miguel, it’s your birthday. I picked the restaurant and reserved the seats,” you say a little whiney.
“But I want to pay for the dinner,” Miguel pouts as he holds the check out of your reach.
When he got like this, it was hard to change his mind.
“If you let me pay, I’ll give you another kiss.”
“Just one?” Miguel brings the check back to your level, squinting at you.
You sigh, “I’ll give you ten.”
“Deal.”
Miguel gives you the check with a giddy smile and you slap your card on it.
The kisses still don’t stop him from taking over the tip.
So stubborn.
GymRat!Miguel who texts Gabriel once he’s back in his dorm. He sends pictures of everything from the food to the cake to the gifts.
“Look at what my baby did for me 🤪”
“The same one you left at the party even tho you blew up my phone about her for weeks? 😕”
“Yes…I didn’t do it on purpose. Me and her talked about it already”
“jk jk it wasn’t your fault”
“No way she got you final fantasy. Dana barely got me a cupcake”
“This just proves that my gf is better”
“Tbf tho you and Dana are still in high school”
“Ohhhh my god. You turn one more year older than me and all of a sudden you have the wisdom of a sage. SHUT UP 😭”
“I’ll literally be in college next year”
“AND ANYWAY you’ve never shown me this so-called gf. How do Ik you haven’t gone insane?”
Miguel clicked the back of his teeth in annoyance. Peter walked by him with his eyebrow raised and Miguel just waved his hand.
He sent a picture he took of you from tonight. You looked amazing in that dress and your eyes were beautiful and deep. You were smiling at him from across the table.
“First you try to steal Dana from me and now you get her”
“It’s crazy how this world is so anti-Gabriel”
“What are you yapping about”
“And I didn’t take ANYTHING from you 🫵🏽”
“We were 6 and 7 and you couldn’t push her hard enough on the swings. When will you get over that?”
“It burns all the same”
“You should give me her number and I can let you experience that feeling”
“Gabriel.”
“Show her what a real O’Hara is like”
“Cabrón”
“You’re so lucky I’m not next to you right now”
“THE BIG C WORD?”
“I’m telling mom you called me that btw”
“All because I wanted to meet your gf ☹️”
“Bastard”
“I’M TELLING MOM YOU CALLED ME THAT! WTF?”
It wasn’t long before Miguel’s mom was calling his phone to berate him. He pressed the green button, air pushing out of his nose as his mom’s face filled up the screen.
Peter looked bug eyed as Conchata’s rapid fire words filled the room.
“Ma! That’s so not fair! Gabri called me a bastard!”
There was a quick pause as his mom made a face that he knew all too well. Miguel heard Gabriel yelp as a sandal made a loud impact with his skin.
Miguel heard Gabriel cry out as his mom took off her other shoe, ready to aim, “MIGUEL HAS A GIRLFRIEND!”
Miguel just threw his phone on the bed and groaned. He could hear Peter snickering from his desk.
“What girlfriend? Miguel! Where are you? Come back and answer me,” Conchata’s voice got louder and louder. “I can’t believe you two! You would think this distance meant that you two wouldn’t fight like you’re still sleeping in the same room.”
“We’re not fighting,” Gabriel said. He smirks as he gets in the camera next to his mom. “Miguel is still hiding things from you, though.”
Miguel picked the phone up again with a frown on his face. Gabriel just stuck his tongue out like the brat he was.
“Mijo, what’s going on?” his mom asked, concern in her voice. “First, it was the party and now this. Do you need to come home?”
“No, ma,” Miguel sighed. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine now. Great even.”
“Then why haven’t you told me about this girlfriend of yours?”
“We just started dating. It’s still very new,” Miguel chose his words carefully. Ever since his second seamster in high school, she’s been super sensitive towards him and his feelings. Knowing her, she might give you a hard time. He didn’t want that for you just yet. “I didn’t want to introduce you to her until we were more solid.”
“I think a girl that helps to organize the take down of a sorority in your honor is pretty solid,” Gabriel comments off camera.
“She did that?!” Conchata stares at Miguel with furrowed brows.
Miguel only nods, lips wound in a tight line.
“Oh well, mijo, I have to meet this girl!”
“I don’t think-”
“Let me know when she’s free to come home with you! Maybe over Thanksgiving?”
“Ma, she has her own family-”
“Ok I have to go now! I have to catch my shows. Call me more often or I’ll have to come up there!”
The room fell silent as the call ended and Miguel was met with his messages with Gabriel again.
“CHECKMATE!”
Miguel still wanted to throttle him.
GymRat!Miguel who’s super excited when Halloween comes and you want to wear couple costumes. He hasn’t done costumes since early middle school. Growing up meant realizing that some people your age want to grow up. Fast. No one wanted to dress up in silly costumes anymore or go trick-or-treating. Sure, the scary stories were fun but at that age, he wanted to eat candy all night, not teepee houses and run in the woods.
He’s hanging out on his bed chatting with Mary Jane and Peter while you get ready in the bathroom. The theater and art department collaborated together to host a costume party. This time, Miguel wouldn’t leave your side. Maybe if you had to pee, he would consider waiting awkwardly by the door. He didn’t want the same mistake to happen.
The two of you decide to go as Starfire and Nightwing grouping up with MJ and Peter who dress up as Raven and Beast Boy for a Teen Titans theme.
The costume is pretty tight but he has to admit, it looks great on his build.
You walk out of the bathroom with a cheery “I’m ready!”
It’s definitely not ideal that his suit is so tight.
The skirt is hugging your body in every which way. The cut-outs at your hips had his fingers twitching. To top it off, the diamond cut out for your chest left him internally screaming.
Peter whistled from his desk and MJ hollered about how good you looked. You smiled bashfully, doing a 360.
Miguel wanted to shove MJ and Peter out of the room to reenact what Starfire and Nightwing actually got up to when they were by themselves.
You walk up to him and flip your flaming hair back playfully.
“Do you like it?” you ask, peering up at him.
“I think he more than likes it,” Peter mumbles out in a stage whisper. MJ elbows him softly in the stomach.
Miguel spins you around, “Fuck yeah.”
Your laugh falls out of you, surprised at his curt reaction.
“Honestly, you two can go ahead to the party and we’ll just hang out here,” Miguel said, face as serious as ever as he wrapped himself around you from behind.
“No, no, no! You can do whatever you want after the party. Keep it in, buddy,” Peter says as he starts to guide everyone to the door.
Miguel keeps himself attached to you all night.
GymRat!Miguel who helps you bring your things to your car for Thanksgiving break. It’ll only be a week but he feels like he might not make it.
“You’ll see me again next Sunday, Miggy” you say to him as he’s bent over you with the biggest pout out ever.
“I’m still gonna miss you,” Miguel leans further with his forehead on yours. “Wish you could come with me.”
“Maybe over the winter break we can plan a time to meet outside of school.”
Miguel just sighs dramatically.
You decide to say fuck it and kiss him in the middle of the almost empty parking garage.
Miguel doesn’t let up now that you’ve given him an inch. He’s holding you by your hips, your face, your waist, anything to get closer. He moans a bit into your mouth as you open up.
You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper, “I really have to get on the road now, baby. And so do you.”
Miguel slumps as he guides you to your driver’s seat. You roll the window down and pucker your lips for another kiss.
Miguel obliges easily and asks, “Call me when you get there?”
“Of course,” you say.
He stands and watches you drive off, missing you already.
GymRat!Miguel who is almost knocked down when he opens the door to his home. Gabriel is wrapped around him like a koala, squeezing away.
Miguel laughs and rubs his back, relieved that he’s not heavy enough to knock him over.
“It’s good to see you too, Gabri,” Miguel laughs.
Conchata peaks around the corner and almost cries at the sight.
“My boys!” She coos while coming to the door. “George! Come help Miguel with his bags!”
Miguel waddles in with Gabriel still clinging to him. He’s glad to be home.
GymRat!Miguel who gets your call in the middle of Gabriel watching him play Final Fantasy. He pauses the game and runs to his room, Gabriel yelling at him to come back and unpause the game.
You tell that you made it home and that you’ll call him later.
You blow a kiss at the screen and he catches it with glee before you end the call.
Miguel is glad you left before Gabriel opens his door like that one big bird meme.
“Was that her?” he asks, voice excited. “Is she still on the phone?”
“Yes. No. Why are you eavesdropping like a creep?”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping! It just dawned on me a little too late that you left to go talk to her.”
“Whatever,” Miguel groaned. “Let’s just get back to the game.”
“You know you can’t hide her from me forever, right?” Gabriel says, skipping next to Miguel.
“I’m not trying to. But you being a weirdo will make me want to.”
Conchata passes by them with a laundry basket on her hip, “Who’s hiding something?”
“Nobody!” Both Miguel and Gabriel shout in her direction and run back to their game.
Conchata rolls her eyes and continues to her bedroom.
GymRat!Miguel who becomes overwhelmed on Thanksgiving Day. It’s as if every close and distant relative was here. The first floor was full of people. As much as Miguel puts on, he’s never been an much of an extrovert.
He’s up in his room taking a breather. He pulls out one of the cards you gifted him. The one for when he missed your kisses.
He opens and pulls out a letter. There’s instructions on it.
“Each shade is for a different feeling!”
There was a cute chibi doodle of you kissing him on the cheeks at the bottom of the letter. He saw that there was a shade for nervousness/being overwhelmed.
He pulls out a polaroid of you and opens the bag of glossy paper kisses. He flips one and it reads, “Breathe slow and steady 10 times. Kiss me when you’re done.”
He does as you say and brings the paper to his lips. It even smells like you. Sweet. Fruity.
He smiles to himself and takes out one more.
GymRat!Miguel who finally lets Gabriel talk to you on Friday.
“He can be a bit annoying. I’m warning you now,” Miguel says.
“Don’t say that, Miggy. He’s your brother! He’s allowed to bother you at least a little. ”
Miguel yells for Gabriel to come in and he’s running to snatch Miguel’s phone.
“Hi! My name is Gabriel, the better O’Hara. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”
“Oh my gosh,” Miguel watches as you gasp. “It’s like another Miguel!”
Miguel snickers as Gabriel groans loudly in annoyance.
“I don’t look like him. He looks like me!” Gabriel pouts.
“Well, you both sport that same O’Hara pout.”
Gabriel and you chat for a long time. Miguel had to cut the conversation short when Gabriel started to tell embarrassing stories from their childhood.
“Alright, you’re done,” Miguel says and snatches the phone back.
“Aw, but we were just getting to the good stuff!”
“Yeah!” you say. “I wanna know how you messed up the science lab in middle school!”
“Nuh uh, Gabri is running his mouth too much. Get out.”
“I can’t wait to see you in person!” Gabriel shouts as Miguel pushes him towards the door. “You can meet my girlfriend too! She’ll love you!”
“I can’t wait,” you say, laughing as Miguel struggles to detach Gabriel’s fingers from the doorway.
GymRat!Miguel who talks to you on the phone until you fall asleep. You look adorable as you’re blissful to the outside world. Your cheek is squished on your pillow.
He has the urge to bite it like it’s mochi.
“Buenas noches, mi amor,” he whispers before he closes his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of your breaths.
He didn’t know that you were still partially awake to hear him.
GymRat!Miguel who picks you up and spins you around after the break. You squeal in shock, surprised that he could pick you up in the first place.
“Baby, I lift much heavier weights at the gym. This is nothing,” Miguel stares at you as if you have two heads when you comment on it.
You’re in a daydream the rest of the day because of that fact.
GymRat!Miguel who joins you on your late study nights in the library closer to finals. You two always sit at one of the tables hidden by the giant bookshelves.
It was nice and cozy. Quiet and roomy.
It was also a great place to makeout.
Every time you got a set of flashcards memorized, Miguel would pull you in his lap and devour you with kisses. It was a great motivation and a welcomed distraction.
It always ended up getting a little too heated and Miguel would have to excuse himself to go to the bathroom.
Sometimes you would feel so delirious that you wanted him to stay so you could crawl under the table and take care of his problems for him.
That was definitely the multiple late nights talking.
GymRat!Miguel who is super bummed out by the time Christmas break starts because you two can’t find a proper time to meet.
You have to visit several other family member’s houses and his biological dad wants his family to join him and his family at some ski resort before the week of Christmas.
George O’Hara was not turning down a free vacation.
You told him to cheer up and enjoy the snow and jacuzzis. Miguel couldn’t help but to think that the jacuzzi would be better with you on top of him in it.
And when Gabriel annoys him, he didn’t mind all that much because that was his baby brother whom he loves dearly. It was when Kron, his step-brother, would run his mouth that Miguel would seriously get annoyed.
He’s been competing with Miguel ever since he caught on to the fact that his dad had a secret love child.
Right now though, he was pissing Miguel off.
First, it was fighting Miguel over a snowboard. Then, it was taking the last elk burger and not even finishing it. Next, trying to knock him off balance right as he got off of the ski lift.
It was as if he was 8 and not 20.
His final straw was when he was being a dick towards Gabriel. All Gabriel was trying to do was bring them together and Kron cursed at him.
Even Miguel doesn’t tell Gabriel to fuck off.
“What is up with you? Don’t cuss at him. He didn’t do anything to you,” Miguel unlocks himself from his snowboard, ready to leave.
“It’s ok, Migs,” Gabriel held his hand out, knowing how this could end.
“No it’s not. He’s been nothing but a dickhead to you, to us, this entire trip. I’m sick of it. Go be annoying somewhere else, Kron.”
“Dad,” Miguel shouts out. Both George and Tyler looked over at him in concern. Miguel didn’t feel like directing himself towards a specific person. “I’m going to the room, I’ll be back down for dinner.”
Tyler wanted to run after him. George was eyeing Tyler for even reacting to Miguel’s cries. Nancy and Conchata just stood in confusion.
“He, uh, he probably just needs a breather. Maybe he’ll talk to his girlfriend!” Gabriel said trying to lighten the mood.
“Girlfriend? What girlfriend? I didn’t hear about any girlfriend,” Tyler says, saddened that he was being left out.
“Shit,” Gabriel mumbled to himself.
“You don’t live in our home, Tyler. Of course you don’t know,” George says, a bit peeved.
“What George means to say is that it’s all new. Fresh! Even I haven’t met the girl,” Conchata slides in matter of factly.
“Tyler should know her, being that she was the one who emailed him with our son’s case,” George grumbled out.
Tyler turned to Gabriel, “Jessica?”
“Uh, no.”
Tyler then says your name with a fondness. As if he knew you like an old friend. “She was quite compelling with her words!”
“So the two of you know of her and I still don’t even know what she looks like. I never thought this day would come,” Conchata held her gloved hand over her forehead like she was about to faint.
“Why don’t we host a small dinner next year? We can get to know her that way,” Nancy chimes in.
“Guys, I really don’t think that’s necessary-”
“Nonsense, Gabriel. If this girl was willing to do something so brave for Miguel we have to meet her,” Tyler grips Gabriel’s shoulder tight. A grip that could rival his brother’s.
“That’s a great idea, Tyler! Nice co-parenting move!” Conchata holds her fist out for him to bump. He does it proudly and they walk towards one of the cabins while Nancy follows behind, discussing dinner ideas.
George only scoffs and stomps off to his room mirroring Miguel’s mannerisms.
Gabriel was screwed once Miguel finds out.
GymRat!Miguel who waits until Christmas night in his bedroom to open the gift you sent to him. He smiles at your cute message and unfolds the paper to so much. It’s a Spider-man lego mask, a customized hoodie with a doodle of you and him, two picture frames with the two of you from his birthday dinner and the Halloween party, and some polaroids that you warned him to look at by himself later.
His breath shuttered as he took him in. They were all of you in your dorm room. They started off innocent. You were smiling, laughing, staring at the camera. Then they got a little more explicit.
You had on a tank top with no bra. Your cleavage was on display. Some showed your entire body on the bed. Some showed your torso and hips, curvy and full.
Miguel felt faint.
His final straw was the last picture in the stack. It was a picture of you from behind, “Merry Christmas XX” written in cursive across the top. You had on briefs but your ass was still readable, peaking out from the bottom. There was an arch in your back as you looked over your shoulder seductively. What a tease.
You were going to send him to an early grave. And who took these pictures?
All Miguel remembers was shuddering, hips lifting off the bed as he held one of pictures high. He had to bite his shirt as to not startle the entire house.
After he cleans up, he spreads the pictures across his bare chest and clicks a photo with a lazy yet satisfied smile.
You respond back with voice memos, so happy that he loved his gift. You also send some sounding a bit needy.
Miguel calls you and talks with you all night.
This Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.
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dividers by: @plutism 🩵
a/n: This one was really fun to write!! I dove deep into my lover girl brain for this. Like full on immersing myself into the reader’s position. I hope you enjoyed! 🩵
As always likes and reblogs are super appreciated. PLEASE COMMENT OMG. 😭 Let me know how you feel or I get nervous 😭😭😭!
taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx @lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @ce3stvu @ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm
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writingmeraki · 5 months
Text
the proposition of us — k.mg drabble.
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❝ in which mingyu realises he hates the idea of you going out on a date with your crush more than he hates you.
( or a date with your crush, alleged crush, makes you think that perhaps you don't actually know how you feel. )
pairing : frenemy/menace! mingyu x reader, frenemies to ?? genre : fluff, a little angsty and a whole bunch of attempted humour. warnings : cussing, bickering, mingyu is down bad to the point he doesn't actually acknowledge how much he likes reader, oblivious reader.
a/n : a very very late birthday gift to my darling, I love you so much 💌 I hope u all like this randomness that sprouted while I was literally showering <3 !! i have a love hate relationship with this but! menace mingyu for the win ( although it is very less here i'll admit ) anyways let me know what you think!!
word count : 1.8k
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Wonseok was good. 
Great even.
The best actually.
But was he the best for you? 
For a long time, that's what you'd concluded. 
His looks were definitely as though Aphrodite herself crafted him and his sharp jawline, perfectly shaped nose, eyes as bright as if diamonds were specifically embedded in them.
Or maybe you were just way too infatuated with him because when you told Chaewon you finally are going on a date with him, all she did was furrow her eyebrows in what seemed like confusion and questioned,
Are you sure you like him and not someone else? 
Now it was your turn to be in confusion at that time, because what on earth did she mean by someone else? Were you doing something that implied you liked someone else and not Park Wonseok, the guy who stole your heart when he saved you from falling and embarrassing yourself,exactly 6 months,10 days ago? 
This same confusion stuck with you like a pestering thought, unable to be moved until you finally left the date, more at unease than at excitement. 
The unease you felt made you irritated because you couldn’t quite understand what it was that was bothering you. 
So in all that chaos, you stood outside the one place that would hold the answers to your confusion. 
The convenience store.
The owner probably thought you had lost it or were drunk, no in between because for one you were all dressed up in your prettiest outfit, makeup done and hair one while you stood outside looking at the sign. 
Who dresses up for the convenience store? A crazy person. 
Are they drunk? Probably. 
Luckily it was none of those. 
You might rip your hair out now, because the one thing you came looking for in the grocery store was not even there.
The blueberry flavoured ice candy. 
Your favourite blueberry flavoured ice candy. 
You just gave up then and there, without buying anything you went outside of the store, and decided the sidewalk was the best place to sit. Ah yes, the sidewalk with the uneven edges and small stones that would dig into your butt and probably bruise it if you sat on it longer than ever. 
Perfect. 
Shutting your eyes, you began to think of possible reasons behind your discontent with Wonseok. 
You didn’t even notice, someone followed you out of the store, with the very thing you’d been craving right in his hands. 
The crinkling sound of a wrapper, made you open your eyes in both surprise and fear, and you almost would have fallen down even while sitting as you looked in front of you. 
A hand, holding...the blueberry ice candy? 
Your eyes immediately darted towards the owner of said hand, and you’re sure the surprise now showed on your face as it was none other than Kim Mingyu. 
Kim Mingyu…how do you even introduce him in your life as a person? Did you hate him? You’d say hate is a strong word, but he was annoying you’d say that, get on your nerves more than you’d admit it.Did you find him hot? Hey now, anyone with two eyes could see he was definitely attractive.
Tall, pouty lips, pretty chocolatey eyes, even prettier smile, buff like very huge buff you were pretty sure he could punch you to another corner if he wanted to with just one hit. 
You’d seen him carrying like two boxes of books once and you remembered how you almost broke your arm trying to even lift one. You also remember staring at how his veins seemed to pop out, how large his hands seem,how nice they would wrap around yo-
Okay you were getting off track now. 
In a way you might say you hate him, not in the despise kind of way but because it was as though he was both everything you wanted to be and everything you wanted to have. 
Both being not attainable to you apparently. 
Now a big question rose up amidst the hundred others you already asked by now, what the fuck was he doing there?
“Here, maybe if you put in the effort of searching more nicely, you’d have found it.” You took the ice candy from his hand, him taking it as an invitation to sit right beside you, his other hand holding his ice cream of the night. 
He looked nice…good actually. It was unfair how great he looked despite his clearly messy hair, worn out black t-shirt and oh God were those grey sweatpants? You tried not too put too much thought into it. 
You frowned in annoyance once you processed his words, finding that there was surely an underlying meaning to it.
“What the fuck are you doing here Mingyu?”
“Last time I checked, the convenience store was a public facility.”
You scoffed at his sarcasm, opening up the candy and for a moment as you took in the dark blue purplish colour, you think all your worries dissolved right there. 
Mingyu thinks he might have melted then and there with the way your eyes immediately sparked up as you saw your ice candy. It was cute how you found the absolute delight in the most seemingly boring things. 
It was one of the things that made him just fall for you even more and more. What you didn’t know about the boy next to you was that he was gone, finished, down all just for you. It began when you went out of your way to save him from being hit by a flying football. His personal knight in shining armour. 
From that moment, he figured if he wanted to be at least a part of your life, he’d somehow have to play something noticeable enough to you. So he took the bite and made himself one of your greatest frenemies. Not that you had any other so probably your only frenemy. 
He hated you…or that’s what he made others think. It was working well until his feelings caught up, his true ones at least, his very real bitter feelings when he found out you went on a date with your ‘crush’. 
He was having a terrible night, figured going to the convenience store would help him and there you were, the cause of all the bitterness. 
“So are you following me or something? And- and how do you know I like this?”
He rolled his eyes, his turn to scoff at you,
“Not everything revolves around you.” A lie, for him, most things did. He did. 
“And I just have good observation skills.” Just for you though, only you. 
The sweet and tangy taste of blueberry juice lingered in your mouth as you blissfully closed your eyes, the coolness of it only adding more to your satisfaction and Mingyu wishes he brought his camera because you looked so…content. So beautiful.
“That sounds stalkerish, please you’re obsessed with me.” It was just a joke, to pull his leg, like you always did.
“What if I am?” Okay and he sounded way too serious for that.
You almost choked on the candy if it weren’t for your quick swallow reflex, eyes widened at his no hesitation reply. 
“Wha-what?”
“What, what?”
“What do you mean by that?” 
He blinked once, twice. And it was then he realised, what he replied, to who he replied. Your widened eyes looked at him both in curiosity and astonishment, lips purplish due to the candy that was now melting in your hand.
“Is it really you know that bad?” You raised an eyebrow in confusion. This was it, for him.
“You know, the proposition of us? Like actually us.”
You held your breath, waiting for the punchline or anything that would indicate he was joking but, if there was something you knew surely about him is that his eyes would never lie. And right now, they showed all seriousness. 
“Like us- as in us being civil? Friends?” You nervously laughed, knowing you could be misinterpreting it but you want to take back your words when you see the way his expression drops and the scowl that’s on his face. 
“No. I mean- I mean as more than friends. More than whatever this is. More like a couple.”
“Min-mingyu are you- are you suggesting we date?”
You didn’t exactly know what else to respond other than the obvious,
“Yes! Yes exactly, finally. I- yes a date. A date is all I ask for.” 
Now you think, you have more questions than ever because why exactly did the idea of going on a date with Mingyu, excite you more than your actual date that you just had?
“When did you even like me? I- what? This is so confusing, I thought I annoyed you?” 
“Well you did, you still do but it’s just- I thought it was the only way to be apart of your life and now that I think of it, it sounds stupid but I just-You know what I'll explain it to you on that date so uh what-what do you say?”
In that moment, he looked at you like a puppy pleading to his owner for a treat, his suspicious eyes looking way too innocent but they indeed made their way right to your heart.
“Okay, okay fine! I’ll go out with you. One date.” 
That stopped his brief mental spiraling immediately, in a bit of shock as he looked at you in disbelief for agreeing. For actually agreeing because he did prepare himself for the worst scenario. Which was you probably humiliating him then and there.
His disbelief quickly turned to content and that, that sickly adorable giddy smile of his made its way onto his face, canines peaking out. It seemed the bitterness he’d been harbouring went away. 
“But what about your date tonight?”
You didn’t ask how he knew, but rather answered his question and your own dilemma,
“I don’t think I actually liked him. Probably just that I was grateful he saved me that time, and I mistook it for something else, I guess.”
“And you’re sure you want to go out with me because it’s not just… I don’t know out of something else too?”
“Don’t worry about that Mingyu, you aren’t that special.”
You joked and the way his smile dropped made you giggle even more. 
“Fine then, I’ll show you just how special I can be. How does Saturday, 7pm, near that downtown record store sound as a meet up place?”
“Alright then. Saturday it is.” 
You didn’t think you’d ever reach a point where Kim Mingyu was something or someone attainable in your radar but there you were, not just with him but a whole date with him. 
Perhaps, this time you were indeed wrong about some things in life remaining as just unrealistic wishes because this was in a way your daydream come true. What a bizzare night. 
And oh, your hands were now also blueberry flavored and bonus! disgustingly sticky too!
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roronoaswifey · 1 year
Note
BABY DADDY ZORO BABY DADDY ZORO BABY DADDY ZORO.
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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎
ೃ⁀➷cw. sexual content, mentions of substance consumption, foul language, slight infidelity, both reader and zoro got their names tatted on them, y’all got a baby girl, this isn’t a smutty as i has planned for it to be ngl
ೃ⁀➷zuha’s note. forever pushing lora’s zoro and his bruk ass pickup truck agenda .
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, despite knowing you called things off with him weeks prior to finding out about your pregnancy, still knows absolutely no boundaries when it comes to you and his four year old daughter. shows up to your place on unexpected days, talking bout “wanted to see my babygirl, ‘s there an issue?”, crashes overnight on the couch because “the truck’s engine’s busted” or “‘s too dark outside and i left my glasses back home”. it’s terrible habits but he seems to always convince you to let him stay by the grin on your daughter’s chubby cheeks whenever she smells the scent of pancakes, eggs and bacon in the air with her favorite side of fresh fruit.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who always shows up to your daughter’s school events no matter the circumstance. he got work? somebody’ll take cover for his shift. truck broke down? nothin’ an uber won’t fix. he may arrive slightly late due to directional challenges, but he will still always show up. dressed in loose grey sweatpants with a white fitted tee and gold chain, he spots you dressed as classily as ever (bougie, he loved to call you) and notices your birkin bag saving a seat for him. he squeezes through the row and ignores the thirsty looks he receives, all in favour of sitting at your side, arm wrapped behind the seat of your chair and kisses your temple when you lean into his embrace.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who swings by every weekend to pick up his daughter for his turn of the rotation. if you ask him, he’d rather just stay over for the weekend and spend it with y’all three but he’s aware of your personal life outside of both him and your daughter, and complications (like whoever the fuck dropped you home that one friday night and gave you a cheek kiss when you’d asked him to stay a few hours with his baby) that can interfere in y’all’s relationship.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, on the occasions you let him spend the night over, always makes it up to you. it’s always the same routine—you tell him to crash on the couch and leave as soon as the rise of dawn awakens and yet he always ends up in the warmth of your bed, one leg propped up with two hands on your hips and fucks into you with precision. the sinful arch of your back and your whines as you beg him for more drive him insane, makes him miss you so much more than he’s willing to admit. though for now, he’s content in showing you how much he longs for you through plunging his dick deep in your guts and silencing your moans with his tongue down your throat (to his dismay, you make him pull out and finish on your back).
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who loves to spoil you and his baby. doesn’t have the highest paying income but no matter his salary, he’d be more than willing to spend 50% of it on the both of you. anything his daughter wants, she gets. he knows you can good and well afford for the both of you but he feels it’s his job to make sure you both live a soft life. no matter the reason—job promotion, birthdays, anniversaries, just for the fun of it— he’ll always want to gift you. he isn’t the best with words but he genuinely thanks the heavens that such a wonderful woman was able to bless him the greatest of gifts.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who freezes in shock the very first time his daughter asks him if he’s still in love with you. he forgets she was blessed with your intelligence, but such a pretty and chubby face smothered in chocolate syrup from her ice cream sundae on their weekly hangouts asking him if he still loves mommy the same way her classmate’s parents love each other makes him realize that these habits between you and him may badly affect y’all’s kid’s future. still, he sighs melancholy and lightly flicks her nose that scrunches up adorably, and while she huffs childishly a “papa!”, he tells himself he’s in long due of a conversation with you. “i do, princess, more than you could imagine.” he answers, though he isn’t sure if she heard him as she quickly stuffs her mouth full of the sugary dessert once more.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, for the first time in years, decides to actively start dating again. he quickly regrets his decision when he’s on a dinner date, faintly listening to some broad babble about whatever it is she’s talking about but realizing he genuinely cannot see this girl— or any other girl—in his distant future. he’s too busy thinking about the slight twitch in your eye when he’d let you know he would be on a date and may arrive later to pick up his baby. you asked him where he met said girl, and he honestly told you his work friend had set him up on a date. you wished him good luck and to not spare any details when he comes back, but he felt the strain in your fake smile. you’re too easy to read, he decided a while ago, or maybe he’s mastered the art of your deception. regardless, he regrets going on this date and regrets even further when he lets her blow him off in his truck, especially since he never got to finish his load before dropping her off home.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who still invites you and his baby over to his parents’ place whenever there’s any family cookout. terra loves you and her granddaughter, always bombarding zoro with questions whenever he goes to visit. she showers you and her granddaughter with so much love, calls you her daughter despite you and zoro having broken up years ago. she checks on you occasionally, lets you know you’re always welcomed in her home despite everything. she spoils her only granddaughter with gifts and treats and love, takes her on walks and offers to even let her sleepover at her place for the weekends. zoro takes note of that offer, especially since y’all’s anniversary is approaching round the corner.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who brings you to the very first restaurant y’all had y’all first date at, years ago. on the roof patio of the five star restaurant, at the same table, he sees how your eyes sparkle in admiration at his efforts to recreate one of y’all’s most memorable moments in your past relationship. he’s dressed in the fanciest button up and slacks with dress shoes he owns, brings you bouquets of your favorite flowers and as always, pays for your meal. the date goes smoothly, as does most things you guys do, and he walks you back to his truck, hand in hand with the moonlight bouncing off the irises of your eyes. you catch him staring and he’s swears he’s fallen so deeply in love with you— or maybe he never truly stopped. it’s a scary but thrilling feeling, and from the heat rising on your cheeks and your shy gaze, he knows you feel the same. he can’t help but cup your face with one big hand and capture your lips in a sensual kiss, smiling when he feels you melt in his hold. you pull away shyly, nuzzling your nose into his and zoro swears on his mom he would run across the globe back and forth on a leg, go to hell and back, just to have you back in his graces.
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needed to get this out of my drafts 🗿.
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deeversuswords · 6 months
Text
‧˚₊ Shotgun in his car
pairing: bakugou katsuki/f!reader summary: random thoughts about Katsuki and driving word count: ~800 words contains: slight nsfw, mostly fluff, aged-up • ao3 link a/n: I blame this song for putting the thought in my already "crying over bakugou katsuki on a daily basis" brain. before I kick myself out, as a bonus "thought": rolled-up sleeves. enjoy 🧡
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Bakugou Katsuki, your boyfriend who pulls up in front of U.A after getting his driver’s license, where you’re supposed to meet up with him, and whistles at you, the sharp tune a shared secret. His proud grin widens when your head jerks up and all you manage is half a curse in his direction as you startle. He knows the words died on your tongue at the sight of him in the driver seat of a car you don’t recognize. Of course not, it was his parents’ gift for his eighteenth birthday, one he hid from you for this very moment. He melts inside when you climb in, throw your arms around his neck, and smother his face with kisses as you squeal out your congratulations. Putting up with all the dumb instructions from his driving instructor was worth it if this was his reward.
Bakugou Katsuki whose strides hold more arrogance when he returns to the dorms and waves his driver's license to everyone. He was the first to turn eighteen, and now, he’s the first with a driver's license. His chuckles resonate just right when your friends groan exasperated and complain how they have to wait, but congratulate him nonetheless and wiggle their eyebrows because Katsuki with a license means a free drive. Wrong.
Bakugou Katsuki plays taxi driver for no one except you. You—the reason why those free drives he vehemently denies become a thing. When you ask him, pretty eyes peering into his, Katsuki thinks “Hell no”, but his mouth says, “Whatever. Fine.” And there are rules. No eating or drinking. Wear a seatbelt. Don’t be obnoxiously noisy. And the strictest of them all: no one, not even his parents, is allowed to sit in the passenger seat. Hell breaks loose on anyone who tries. “That’s my girl’s seat. Get in the back”—not a statement, but an order. It’s that same seat that becomes the first thing he modifies in his car with his first paycheck. Every last yen goes into the best material, best cushion, best everything because your comfort is his. And it’s so fucking worth it when you cuddle up in your new seat with a big smile on your face and love is all he feels when you say, “God, Kat. You’re spoiling me too much” and pull him by his collar into a mind-numbing kiss.
Bakugou Katsuki and driving with one hand, a habit born out of a passing comment you made about how hot he looked when he did that. His brain rewired on your words, spoken in a nearly whiny tone. But with the rewiring came a whole lot of other things. Like his free hand resting on your thigh. Sometimes his fingers trace random patterns and innocently knead and pinch. Other times, they glide higher and tease, twitch with need when your legs instinctively spread for more of what only he can give you. It is for that reason that Katsuki memorized where in the city the secluded places were. Once his name passes your lips on a breathy moan, he knows no driving, only how to pull over and make you come all over his fingers.
Bakugou Katsuki who finds an outlet in driving late at night when stress gets to him and sleep is being a bitch. Becomes his routine, and slowly yours too. “You’re more important than my sleep, Kat. I’m right there with you,” you told him one night when he got angry at himself for daring to disturb your sleep for the third time that week. He kissed you right after, hungrier than ever, insatiable for your love and everything you meant to his world. Katsuki didn’t care that you wore only a T-shirt—one of his old ones—as he dragged you out of your shared apartment and into his car after allowing you a minute to put shoes on. That drive was a learning experience so now, among the many things crowding his calendar, are the nights promising a clear sky. Because he needs a repeat of his car parked on some random grassy field on the outskirts of the city. To watch you beam at the starry sky above and drown in your joy as you tug on the sleeve of his T-shirt, pointing at the constellations and naming what he already knows because Katsuki always listens when it’s you. Eventually, he silences you with a kiss, his love burning too bright and too hot; it overwhelms him. His head spins and spins. It’s a blur that temporarily clears when you finally ease down on him in the backseat of his car, your gaze locked with his lovesick one, hands grabbing everywhere they can. It’s the only time when Katsuki goes against your wishes of fucking you hard. Not a romantic in the literal sense of the word, but the way everything gravitates together in the moment changes his usual pace into something softer. He makes love to you. Heart wide open, soul bare.
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harleehazbinfics · 7 months
Text
Cookies for Everyone!
--- cannibal chef m.list a/n at the end!
"Everyone! I got all of you something!" You excitedly bounded to them with a covered round tray in your hands.
Everyone turns to you curious as to what you're holding, except Vaggie, who narrows her eyes suspiciously at the tray crossing her arms.
"What's in the tray?" She asks, voice laced with hostility.
"Oh, Vaggie. I'm sure it's something harmless," Charlie tries to mediate with a smile.
"Harmless? From her?" Husk retorts with a snide grin. "I'd believe it when snakes and pigs fly."
Angel gasps hugging Fat Nuggets closely. While Sir Pentious does the same with an offended look hugging his eggbois.
"Too far, my bad."
You waved them off with a laugh, and said, "Oh, goodness no! I could never! I just wanted to give you guys a little something for inviting me to do stuff with you recently. I never had proper friends before, so I made you..."
You drag the suspense and slowly lift the cover making them hitch their breaths anticipating the worst.
What was it? Mutilated body parts? Teeth bracelets? Their stinkiest undergarments?!
You finally presented the gift with a proud look on your face, while their tense faces deflated in relief to see...
"Cookies?"
"PEOPLE SHAPED COOKIES! LOOK IT'S ALL OF US!" Charlie screams elated grabbing her cookie.
"I think those are called Gingerbread Men," Husk remarks at Charlie cynically making Vaggie glare at him.
"Woah! These look great, doll!" Angel complements inspecting the cookie with a smile.
"They also taste amazing!" Pentious adds, melting from the taste of your baking.
"Not gonna lie. I thought you'd give us eyes or nails of our loved ones," Vaggie confesses before eating a bite out of her cookie, "These aren't half bad."
You smile and reply with a shrug, "I'm crazy but I'm not a monster."
"I think we've already passed that, dear," Alastor notes appearing by your side.
"Sir Alastor! I wouldn't dare forget to make you some!" You said giving him a little bag of his own cookies, giving the rest their own goodie bags.
"Well, everyone. We'll be heading out. Can't be late for our reservation," Alastor announces cutting through everyone's conversation taking their attention.
"Reservation?" You ask tilting your head rather cutely, but Alastor would rather die than say that out loud, "I never arranged a reservation for you, Sir."
He grins holding your shoulder, and replies, "I made it for you, of course! Seems like you've already forgotten about your own birthday, sweetheart."
Your head explodes into a red color looking very embarrassed and excited, both at his endearment and plans for you. It made you feel very appreciated that he remembered something you've barely told anyone.
Your brain runs around in delusions. Thinking so far into the future where you'd live together with Alastor, sleeping in the same room being woken up by your pet cat and being a family.
"We can't be late. See you in a while, chums!" The radio demon bids goodbye holding your lovesick form in his arms in a princess carry while you short-circuited.
"Should we name our cat after you, sir? 💕"
---
saw this goin around while i was gone wtf, its oddly and scarily cute ew? /aff LMAO
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silentglassbreak · 2 months
Note
hi bestie is it too late to request? you said you liked writing angst, well, i love reading it 💔💔painfully unrequited love!!!!! gimme gimme
friends with benefits with (overly affectionate!!!!) Noah and reader who falls sick to her stomach head over heels in love with him. blurring the lines between sex and love.
going to a bad omens concert however long after and it’s like they’re strangers oOF rip my heart out and stomp on it idc. been listening to Novocaine on a loop all day. i’m not okay
feel to totally disregard if you’re not feeling it angel <33 thank you bby I love your writing 🥺🥺
Angst............. UGH I've been WAITING babes. My goal is to rip your heart out...fair fucking warning. MMMLOVEYOUUUUU. After Writing Notes: I'm the actual worst. I hope you don't hate it!
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: smut, heartbreak, lots and lots of angst
Can You Feel My Heart
Love languages are such a strange concept, aren't they? That seems to be a fairly new idea that someone came up with in the last decade or so?
If you like to buy love...your love language is gifting.
If you can't communicate well...your love language is affection.
If the only way you know how to show feelings is with sex...your love language is intimacy.
At what point are we allowed to call someone out for being a dick? At what point are we allowed to confront the fact that someone is skipping around the idea of commitment, and ask them to just admit what they really want?
This wasn't the first time these thoughts had danced around my head, in the wee hours of the morning, while Noah's arm laid heavy across my waist, him snoozing behind me.
Noah and I had been friends since we were seven years old. We met on the playground at the park in the center of the neighborhood of our small town in West Virginia. He told me he liked my butterfly hair clips, and I let him have the blue one. He wore it in his hair every day for three weeks.
He grew up in a broken home, only his Mom around most of his years, and even then - that relationship was...strained. So many nights he had snuck into my bedroom window, curling up next to me, tears free falling down his cheeks. We never talked about why, but it didn't take a psychic to figure it out.
He moved in with his Grandmother when he was fourteen, and even though he lived in the next town over, he still made it a point to take the city bus to me every day after school, even when he dropped out.
We were never more than twin flames, incapable of existing without each other, moral support for the other during any type of hardship. Looking back, I guess that was what built our serious dependence issues.
"I can't live without you, Y/N. I'll die if I ever lose you."
"No you won't Noah, don't be stupid."
He was stupid. As stupid as they come, because when I turned eighteen, and started college, he had paid one of his friends to drive him all the way up to Columbus to see me. He showed up at the door of my dorm, drunk and broken, blathering on about how only having been away from me for a week had killed him, and he needed to see me.
That was the first night he kissed me, and I let him.
As most people do when having grown up with someone so closely, I had developed an attachment to Noah very early on. I first recognized it when he turned twelve, and started skateboarding. He would insist on trying to teach me how, despite my undeniable clumsiness. His hands would grip my hips, his face so close to my ear, and his chest pressed to my back. He would talk in this deep voice, his puberty hitting early. I was awe-struck.
He was my best friend, sure. But he belonged to me, that's what he always said.
Even when he had girlfriends, I always came first. Dates would get cancelled for me; plans changed. Hell, he even blew off one girl whose birthday fell on the same day as mine. I was his priority. I was his person.
So when he leaned in to me, sitting on the edge of my mattress in the dorm, liquor stained-breath against my face, I just closed my eyes and let it happen.
He spent the night with me, and had to leave early. Vowing to come back, he never broke his word.
There he was the following weekend, sober this time, with snacks, DVDs, and a week’s worth of clothes. I managed to hide him in my room for four days before the dorm advisor caught him.
The second day he was there was the first time we had sex. I was a virgin, and he was not. That hurt me, sure. Not enough to deny him what was rightfully his. I belonged to Noah, body and soul. He took his time, walked me through it, and gave me the best possible experience I could expect. It hurt, and it was weird, but a sense of relief washed over me.
We had finally crossed that threshold. We had sex three times that week, until he was forced to leave.
That's when the words left his mouth.
"We need to talk."
That conversation broke something inside of me. He loved me, but he didn't love me. He was honored to have been allowed to give me something so meaningful, but he could never see me as more than his best friend. Our friendship was too important, and he wouldn't even allow himself to entertain the idea of jeopardizing that. He had made up his mind, and he couldn't have feelings for me.
It was with the heaviest heart imaginable, I sucked back my tears, painted an easy smile on my face, and held his hands in mine.
"I totally understand, Noah. No worries! We can just have fun, you know?"
And that was it. We were stuck in this sick, frozen place for the last two years. I was about to finish my Associates in Columbus, and hoped to become pre-med at Boston U, but Noah didn't know that yet. I could never figure out how to tell him.
Noah Davis was this heavy, bright flame that I was desperately afraid to extinguish. He had formed a band right after our arrangement began, and he was twenty-four hours away from leaving on their first major tour that would take him around the entire country, and then across the Atlantic to Europe.
How could I tell him that while he was gone, I was likely moving even further, and starting my life without him?
I didn't want to live without him, but he was leaving, and I couldn't sit and wait forever...
I breathed out a sigh, the light beginning to stream in the window of my one-bedroom apartment. He needed to wake up, drive home, and make sure he was ready to leave tomorrow. It was only 6AM, so I knew he'd be cranky, but I couldn't put this off any longer.
“Noah?” I breathed out his name. He groaned in response. “You’ve got to get up. You have to get ready to head home.”
"Mm, ten more minutes." I rolled my eyes, and began sliding out from underneath him.
His arm locked, and held me in place. I giggled, and saw as he turned his face, one eye cracking open. "Don't get up. It's too early."
I narrowed my eyes. "I have class at 8AM."
Noah used his strength against me, pulling my body to him and holding me tight so I couldn't get up. This only made me laugh louder.
"You don't need to get up for another hour."
"Not if I want to shower."
He sighed into the pillow. "So crazy, cause I don't think you do."
I rolled my eyes. "Dude, you've got to get home. Nick will kill us both if you're not ready in time."
"I'm not scared of her." He smirked, and I smacked his arm.
"Shut up. And get off me!"
He stuck his bottom lip out, pouting heavily.
"Not going to work. C'mon." I wriggled hard enough to break his grip, and sat up, stretching my arms over my head. He sat up as well, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
I pulled a robe over myself, turning to look at him as he scrolled through his phone, checking messages.
"Coffee?" I asked, and he threw a thumbs up at me.
I left the room, headed for the kitchen, trying to keep my breathing even. I had very little time left.
Filling the pot with water, I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, his face burying in my neck.
"I don't want to go. I'm going to miss you so much."
I leaned into the touch, taking anything I could at this point. "I know. I'll miss you more."
He scoffed. "Not a chance."
Holding me for a few more moments, he let go to head to the fridge, pulling out the bagels and cream cheese, and plopping down at the dining table. I continued my work of preparing our coffee.
"Hey, uh," I started, keeping my voice as calm as I could. "there's something I wanted to chat with you about."
I turned around, two hot mugs in my hand. He was spreading the cream on a bagel, already having prepared one for me. I sat next to him at the table.
"What's up?" He didn't look up at me.
"I told you I had been trying to decide where to start medical school?" He just nodded in response. "Well, I find out today if I got into Boston."
He halted, his eyes snapping up to me. "Boston?"
I took a sip of coffee. "They've got the best med program on the East coast-"
He cut me off. "Since when were you looking on the East coast?"
His tone was darkening. This was going to go about as well as I expected.
"Since I realized I had a chance. Noah, my GPA and scholar program gives me a real shot."
He grit his teeth, setting his bagel down. "Boston is far, Y/N."
I kept calm, setting my mug down as well. "I know."
"So, why would you want to be so far away?"
"Well, you're going far too, Noah. Your first show is in San Diego."
He sat back in his chair. "Yeah, but the last one puts me right back here in Columbus for a month before I go overseas."
I nodded. "I know. I'll still be here, then. You get back six weeks before the end of the semester."
He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't go to Boston."
There was a finality to his tone, and something about it made my insides flinch with irritation.
"Oh no? And if I do?"
"You can't."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Can't? And since when do you tell me what I can and can't do?"
He rolled his eyes, standing from the table and walking over to the trash, binning the half of his bagel he didn't eat. "We can't be that far away from each other."
Lifting my eyebrows, I stood as well, crossing my arms. "And why is that, Noah?"
He leaned back against the counter. "Y/N, you know why."
"What? So you have someone to fuck whenever you want? Whenever one of your little groupies isn't around?"
His eyes popped open, then. "What?"
"You heard me." My tone was deadly, matching my stare at him.
"You really think the only reason I want you close is because of the sex?" He seemed truly stunned.
"Well, why else would you want me around?" I threw my hands up, walking back down the hallway toward my bedroom. I could hear his footfall behind me. I just continued, stepping into the closet to get dressed.
"What is that supposed to mean? I always want you around."
Rolling my eyes, I clasped my bra on and popped my head out to look at him. "Noah, I'm convenient for you. Unless you have any other valid reasons to keep coming over, I don't know why else it matters."
His jaw dropped open. "That is not true."
Pulling my shirt on, I scoffed. "Please, dude. Spare me the act, okay?"
"What act?"
I pulled my jeans on, buttoning them before stepping out to face him again. "The 'you're my person, and I can't lose you' act." I quoted myself. Something about that pissed him off, because he crossed his own arms and stared me down.
"The fuck are you getting at, Y/N?"
I shook my head, brushing past him, and walked toward the bathroom.
"Noah," I turned to look directly at him. "we've been at this for years. It's kind of old, don't you think?"
His face softened slightly. "We had an agreement."
I nodded. "You're right, we did. Just sex, for the sake of our friendship. That's what you wanted."
"I thought that's what we wanted."
Waving a hand between us, I took a step toward him. "Oh no, Noah. That's what you wanted. Not me."
He was silent, then.
"I wanted more. I always have. I thought that had become clear over the years, but I fucking guess not." I could hear my voice raising a few octaves. "You didn't give me a choice. You came in, broke that boundary, and then put it right back up again. And I stayed, just so I wouldn't lose you."
I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes.
His voice came out small, then, his hands now buried in his pockets.
"What do you want from me, Y/N?"
I sighed, letting one tear escape. "I want you to love me."
He pulled his hands out, stepping toward me and taking one of mine. I let him.
"I do love you!"
I stared at him, my teeth ground together. "Do you? The way I love you?"
Noah was a lot of things. He was brilliant, funny, generous, dedicated. He had the most redeeming qualities of anyone I knew.
And sure, he could be stupid. But not that stupid.
He had known how I felt about him. Of course he did. That was why I kissed him every chance I got. Why I always let him in. Why I never dated anyone else. Why I stayed all this time.
But here? In this moment? He was the biggest idiot I knew, because he dropped my hand, his eyes falling with it, and took a step backward.
"I..." He huffed out a breath, looking back up at my tear-stained face. "I can't. I'm sorry."
I averted my eyes, then. I could feel myself breaking, crumbling right before him.
"You need to leave, Noah."
I could feel he wanted to pull back to me, like a moon in orbit of a planet. Gravity. But he didn't. He just stepped back toward the doorway.
"What does this mean?" I heard his voice, but wouldn't meet his eyes.
I sniffed hard, trying like hell to keep myself upright.
"It means you go on tour. Be who you are, Noah. And I'll be who I am. Without each other."
His body shifted, but I was stone, unmoving.
"I can't lose you." I heard him let out a light, sarcastic laugh. "I'll die."
I let myself laugh at that.
"No you won't, Noah. Don't be stupid."
7 Years Later
Residency is going to kill me. I may actually die in pursuit of this God awful career I've chosen. I was three years in to a five year program, intending to finish in General Practice, but until that time, I was just an idiotic twenty-seven year-old with no life, no sleep, and no clean fucking clothes to wear.
Every resident gets exactly forty-eight hours of paid time off every three months, and I had not taken mine in over a year. I finally had taken all of my hours - six days total - off of work, and after spending the entire first day sleeping, I was due to meet with Raylene in an hour.
Ray and I met at the beginning of residency, and quickly gotten close. We managed to find an affordable apartment together within walking distance of the hospital, and spent any rare free time we had together. She was currently at her boyfriend's place, spending some much needed time with him, before we went out for the evening.
I was digging through my unfolded laundry, trying to find something not too wrinkled or stained to wear tonight. Ray had told me we were going to a concert for a band she had recently discovered, but she didn't tell me who it was. I didn't care, to be honest. Existing somewhere other than the Emergency Room or my own bed sounded heavenly.
Finally settling on a deep red cropped t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and the Vans I rarely got to wear, I straightened my hair and applied what little makeup I could. I set out of the building to the waiting vehicle downstairs, Ray practically hanging from the passenger window.
"You look so fine!"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Sure. Like I might've slept in the last two weeks?"
She chortled back at me, leaning in her seat once I was in the car. I waved hello to her boyfriend Sean, and gazed at Ray.
"So, Tyler isn't coming."
She frowned at me. "Why not?"
I shrugged. "Said he had a case he was working on, and he really couldn't spare the time."
She rolled her eyes. "Typical lawyer. Too busy for anyone but his clients."
Tyler and I had been dating for about six months now. Maintaining a relationship while having jobs as busy as ours was difficult, but he somehow managed to work it out. He would pop in when he knew I had breaks to bring me food, or have me spend nights off at his place, massaging my neck and helping me get caught up on my favorite series. He was an honest man. A good man.
I liked him.
Right?
It's so hard to tell what's like and what's convenient when you live your life exhausted and overworked, so I didn't have a lot of time to question it.
"Bummer for him. I'm so excited to see this show!" Ray was beaming in the front seat.
"Yeah, who are we seeing, anyway?"
"A band called ERRA. They're opening for a bigger headliner, who I've heard are pretty good too."
I nodded. "I've never heard them."
"It's rock. Metal, really." Sean chimed in, and I acknowledged him silently, looking out of the window.
My mind zoned out while we drove to the House of Blues. Ray and Sean chatted idly up front, but I was just enjoying the fact that I was finally out of the house for once.
That is, until we walked into the venue. The banner poster stared at me, the photographs of the band mocking me...
Bad Omens...they were the headliner.
Memories flooded back to my brain, my insides clenching at the visions.
I hadn't spoken to him since that day...that last day in my apartment. When he left, and never looked back. I didn't even keep in touch with the rest of the guys, for fear that I would be sucked back into the maelstrom that was Noah Davis...
“Y/N?” I turned to see Ray stood behind me, noticing my reaction. “You okay?”
My mind wasn’t comprehending what I was seeing. There’s no way that was them? The last time I had heard of the band, they were one-of-four supporting bands on much larger headliners. Now, they were selling out tickets at their own tour? Seven years was a long time…but how had they gotten this popular?
I wondered this, as if I didn’t know how wildly talented those boys were. Aside from Noah, Nicky, Jolly, and Nick Folio were some of the most intelligent and creative minds I had known. They all brought something special to that band, but I would have never expected this.
Huh. Guess he could live without me after all?
Something bitter crept into the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down, staring at his photograph on the poster.
“Yeah,” I tore my eyes away for a second to look at Raylene. “sorry, I’m fine. Just didn’t realize Bad Omens was the headliner.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of them?”
I pulled my lips to the side. Did I want to tell her?
“Long time ago.”
I couldn’t get past how different he looked in the picture. Last time I saw Noah, his hair was halfway down his back, he was skinny, and he had the thinnest little mustache growing on his upper lip.
In these promo pictures, however, his hair was short, not even reaching his ears, he looked much more muscular, and he had no facial hair. He also had many more tattoos than I remembered. That wasn’t surprising. Noah was a tattoo addict from a very young age.
Jolly had let his hair grow and had the cutest goatee on his chin. Nicky looked almost exactly the same. And Nick, bless his heart, had grown into such a handsome guy. They all looked so grown, so serious and broody. It almost made me giggle, knowing how goofy these guys were in real life.
Noah looked the most stunningly different from the rest. Not only did his entire appearance change, but his eyes…something in them was just so much darker. That harsh flame I had once known was so dim. It almost hurt to see. Almost.
We were making our way out to the pit of the GA floor. I had decided to get myself a cocktail to take the edge off. I didn't plan to come face-to-face with him, and likely wouldn't even get the opportunity to get a good look at him period, but still...just knowing we were in the same room made my throat tighten. I washed it down with Vodka and cranberry juice, hoping the warmth of the liquor would unfreeze my nerves.
The first band, Invent Animate, was entertaining enough. Very interactive with the crowd and high-energy. I found it pleasant, but couldn't get myself to focus long enough to notice what they were singing about. I struggled to breathe, the set ending, and knowing I was one hour closer to seeing his face.
During the intermission, Ray excused herself to the restroom, and I stood with Sean, feeling dizzier as the moments passed.
"Hey, I think I'm going to step out for a second. Get some air."
He quirked an eyebrow at me. "You okay? Want me to come with?"
I shook my head. "Nah, don't want you to miss the band you guys came to see. I'll be back."
He nodded, patting me on the shoulder before I weaved in and out of the crowd. I discarded my plastic cup in a trash can before exiting out into the main lobby. I found a spot on the wall near the doors that was unoccupied, and leaned against it, letting my eyes close and my breathing even out.
When I opened my eyes, I searched the room, looking for nothing specific. I landed on the merch tables, and saw someone oddly familiar talking to the lead singer of the last band we had watched...
The liquid courage is what carried me in that direction, smiling to myself.
He stood with his hair pulled back, as usual, and was talking with his hands. Same as he always did.
"Nicky Ruffilo..." I said loud enough to hopefully catch his attention, my hands now grasping the edge of the table.
His head snapped over to look at me, his brows knit together curiously. I could tell he was putting it together.
"No fucking way..." His voice sounded the same as it always had. "Y/N?!"
My teeth flashed at him, and he circled the table to approach me, his arms pulling me into a tight hug.
"Jesus Christ, I didn't recognize you!" That was fair.
Since the last time I had seen any of the guys, I had bleached my hair a pale blonde, lost twenty-five pounds, and had grown two cup sizes. I was, for all intents and purposes, an entirely different person.
"Yeah, well I absolutely recognized you." I said as I gripped his shirt, squeezing him tight.
"How long has it been?" He asked, pulling back to look at me.
"Uh," I thought for a moment. "seven-ish years?"
Nick's eyes were in disbelief, an amazed leer on his face. "God damn, girl. I can't believe it."
I pointed to the banner above his head. "Headlining now, huh? That's amazing!"
He smiled, proudly. "Yeah, we've worked really hard. A lot's changed."
My eyes fell on Noah's face on the poster. "I can see that."
I could tell he was pondering, a question hanging on the edge of his tongue. It was the most obvious question, so I answered for him.
"He doesn't know I'm here."
He nodded, leaning an arm on the table comfortably. "Ah, okay. You didn't want him to?"
I snorted. "I didn't even know I'd be here. My friends came to see ERRA, and that's when I realized you guys were here."
"Makes sense." He had crossed his arms. "Do you want him to know?"
Contemplating this, I let my face fall to get away from his gaze. I wasn't certain how to answer that, but it seemed like the answer was clear regardless.
"No." I sighed hard. "It's probably for the best that he doesn't, right?"
I couldn't read Nick's face, if he was disappointed or relieved. He seemed to be pretty satisfied with my answer, but I could tell he had more he wished he could say.
"Fair enough." Was all he gave me, before letting out a breath. "So, you still live up here?"
I let my muscles relax for a second. "Yeah, doing a residency at Brigham right now."
"Residency? Does that mean you're a doctor?" He asked, clearly confused.
I cackled at this. "Yeah, full blown doctor. Got the little 'MD' after my name and everything."
He beamed at me. "That's so great! Congratulations!"
"Thank you, Nicky." It fell quiet between us once again, and I could hear ERRA's set beginning. "Well, I should probably-"
He spoke over me. "Yeah! Those guys put on a great show. Don't miss it!"
I gave him another hug, reveling in how warm he still felt.
Turning to walk away, I stopped, needing one last thing...
"Nick?"
His face turned back to me.
"How is he?"
I could see the sadness fall over his tan features, and I instantly regretted asking.
"He's..." He trailed off, taking in a large breath. "He's different, Y/N. I doubt you'd recognize him."
"How so?"
Something about my question almost seemed to annoy him. Odd?
"Like I said, a lot has changed. He's changed. He had to." He gestured to me. "Same way you did."
I accepted this, not wanting to press any further. "Thanks, Nick."
He pointed a finger at me. "Hey, we're going to be back here in the fall for a couple days. Don't be a stranger, okay?" I grinned at this. "I know Jolly and Folio would kill to see you."
I just nodded, turning and walking away. My eyes met with Ray's, who was standing, watching my interaction. How much had she seen? Did she hear anything?
"Hey, what are you doing? You're missing ERRA!"
Her brows were pulled up suspiciously. "Who was that?" She pointed after Nick, who had now disappeared from the merch table.
I shook my head. "Oh, that guy? He's the bassist in the headliner band."
This wasn't good enough for her, I could tell by the way she pursed her lips. "Uh-huh. And...you just decided to chat him up like old friends?"
I groaned. "Ugh, how long were you standing there?"
She put all her weight on one hip. "Long enough to see you two talking like you've known each other before. Care to explain?"
Raylene was so nosey. She came by it honestly, her father being a police detective. But still, why did this matter?
"It's not a big deal, Ray. I'll tell you later."
I pulled on her arm, trying to lead her back to the concert hall, but she stood firm, eyeing me. I sucked my teeth in frustration.
"Damn it, alright, come here."
She followed me to the doors leading outside, and we stepped into the cool air.
"Alright, look, I've known Nick since I was ten."
Her eyes jumped. "Oh? Back in West Virginia?"
I nodded. "Exactly. I had no idea their band was going to be here."
"Do you know anyone else in the band?"
I glanced around, feeling wildly uncomfortable by the conversation.
"I may know the entire band."
Her eyes exploded, nearly shooting out of her face cartoonistically.
"What?! The whole band?" I just nodded. "Jesus, Y/N. That's insane!"
I giggled. "I guess. It's just a coincidence."
She smiled at me. "Well that's awesome! Do you want to see the rest of them after? They're doing a free merch signing."
Panic filled my chest, and I put a hand out to grab her shoulder. "No, no. I don't, uh..." I tried to keep my voice solid. "I don't keep in touch with them anymore."
Her eyes narrowed. "Oh? Okay, if you're sure." Something in my voice must have made her feel my anxiety.
We turned, ready to make our way back inside.
"It is too bad. The lead singer's a real looker. I heard one of the girls in the crowd say his name was Noah Sebastian? He's pretty cute."
I almost walked straight into the door, my foot banging off of the pillar. Ray turned around to see me, and something about the look on my face made realization flash over her.
"Oh my God, are you ok-" She stopped dead, eyes widening again. "Wait..."
"Ray, don't." I knew what she had figured out.
"Noah..." I put my hands up, glancing around to ensure no one was looking at us. "As in...Noah? Your old best friend?!"
I shushed her harshly. "Please, Ray. I don't want to think about this."
"That's the guy?! Noah Sebastian is the guy that broke your heart?!"
I was going to actually vomit at that.
"Fuck! Can we not?!" I raised my voice, which made her snap her mouth closed. "Besides, I don't know a Noah Sebastian."
She looked confused. "Is that not his real name?"
I rolled my eyes, turning to walk back in. "It's his middle name."
I spaced out most of what was left of ERRA's set, just trying to put the pieces back together in my brain. This night had not turned into what I had hoped.
I just wanted one night, an easy night, to take a deep breath away from my hectic life. Instead, I was reliving some of my most painful memories, and had a headache to go right along with it from the alcohol. My chest vibrated, the bass just making it so much more difficult to focus.
I stood off of the GA floor, near the bar area, not even realizing the band had finished, and people were swarming to grab drinks and use the restrooms before the men of the evening appeared. Ray approached me, another Vodka cran in her hand, and pushed it into mine.
"Here my love, drink this." I took a long gulp of it. "Do you want us to go? We don't have to stay..."
My eyes were fixed on the stage, where I could see people setting up the equipment. "No." I huffed out a breath, and squeezed my cup. "No, I want to see them play, I think."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're sure? This can't be easy for you."
My eyes burned into her face, which almost made her flinch. "I may never get to see him again, Ray. I have to."
She just nodded, arm linking with mine. "You want to watch from up here?"
I nodded, crunching on a piece of ice from my drink. "No chance of him spotting me back here."
She affirmed my request, and leaned back against the wall with me.
I felt my phone vibrate, and I pulled it from my pocket to see Tyler's name on the screen.
Tyler: Hey beautiful! How's the show?
I held my breath. What kind of a question was that?
Me: Fine. Almost over, just one band left.
He didn't take but a minute to respond.
Tyler: Having fun?
Ha, what a joke.
Me: Yeah. I've had some drinks, so it's helping.
Tyler: Well, enjoy it baby! You deserve it.
That wasn't fair. None of it was. Having to see Noah? The fact that I had an amazing guy, who genuinely liked me, who waited for me. But I still couldn't get my mind off of that irritatingly beautiful face about to take the stage.
The lights went down, and I felt myself tense, throwing back the rest of my drink. My teeth were numb, if that made any sense at all. Ray's hand gripped mine tight, holding me up.
A cinematic scene played on the screens, but I wasn't watching, eyes hastily searching the stage.
A tall man, who I instantly recognized as Jolly, stepped center-stage, a guitar in his hand playing the opening riff to the song. It was heavy, deep and soul shaking.
Folio came out next, his face, like Jolly's, covered in a black ski mask.
Nick took his spot, playing his bass tones.
And then, as the opening crescendoed, a voice rang through the speakers.
A voice I'd never forget.
"Can you hear me through the white noise?"
He blasted onto the stage, glory and all, face covered and thick black jacket on his shoulders.
He sounded different. Angry. Raw, Aggressive. The feeling that sank in my stomach pulled me back further against the wall.
The song played through, his words pulsing through my veins.
As quick as it had started, it was over, and we were on to the next.
The next track was calmer, red lights glowing all throughout the stage.
They had all removed their masks, and I saw his face for the first time. He looked so much older, making it difficult for me to believe he was the same person.
The words of the song resonated deep in my thoughts.
"I don't want to know all your secrets, cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on..."
Breathing deeply, I watched as the crowd moved with the music, electrifying the energy in the room. It was intoxicating.
Noah had changed...
The set played on without hitch, the entire time I caught myself holding in breaths until I felt my lungs nearly bursting. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, feeling the familiar ache beginning to creep back in.
The music stopped, and a bunch of lights came up. By this time, Noah had discarded his jacket, button-up, and only stood in a black tank top, hands wrapped in what looked like boxing wraps?
"Alright, Boston, how we feeling?" His speaking voice even sounded different...
The crowd erupted.
"We are Bad Omens, and we sincerely appreciate you all being here tonight. The next song we are going to play for you all has been the biggest turning point this band has ever seen." I heard the screams, and did my best to tune them out so I could hear his words. "Is anyone familiar with a song called Just Pretend?"
The room rocked with the cheers and chants of the crowd.
"That volume that I just heard? That's the volume I want to hear you sing this with me, okay? Don't worry about trying to hit the perfect note or get all of the words right. It's about us all, being here together tonight."
The music played softly behind him when his lips reached the microphone.
"I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I can wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you..."
My heart twisted in my chest.
"I'm not afraid, of the war you've come to wage against my sins. I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend. So will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out?"
The tears pooled in my eyes. No fucking way. The song played on, mocking me with the lyrics.
"I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face. And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same."
"We'll try again, when we're not so different. We will make amends, till then I'll just pretend."
My hands came up to cover my face, my lip trembling hard.
"Weigh down on me. Stay till morning. Way down. Would you say I'm worthy?"
I choked on a sob, my legs pushing me forward, and I ran out of the room. I felt my stomach lurching, my mouth clamping closed as I ran toward the bathroom.
I heard Ray chasing behind me. "Y/N! Wait!"
Flying into the bathroom and finding the first open stall, I fell to my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. My hands gripped my hair, tears falling hard down my face.
"Oh God, babe." Ray reached to grab my hair from me as I wretched all of the Vodka out of my stomach, my heart and soul pouring out with it.
When I finished, I let my chest heave with sobs, my hand covering my eyes in ebarrassment.
"Fuck, Ray." I said as I wiped my face with the tissue she handed me. "I've got to get the hell out of here."
She nodded. "Okay, my love. Let's do that."
After a solid twenty minutes of cleaning myself up in the bathroom, we stepped out, noticing the crowd now formed outside, waiting at the table for the band to come out for the signing. Ray was frantically dialing Sean, trying to find him among the sea of people. I just plopped myself down on the floor near the restroom, trying to relax as best as I could.
"Y/N?" I looked up at her. "I have to go find Sean. He isn't answering. Can you wait here for me?"
I just nodded, defeated. She was gone, lost within the abyss of people, and I sat, waiting, head in my hands.
I was pulled out of my stupor by the sound of cheering. The band had come out, all waving and smiling. I didn't even bother chancing a glance at him, for fear I may vomit again.
Ray had not come back yet, despite the four or five texts I had now sent her. I had been waiting for a solid thirty minutes, people watching the line and avoiding seeing his face. The ropes of the line were blocking my view of the faces sitting at the table.
After another fifteen, Ray finally bounded up to me, out of breath, Sean in tow.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry! That crowd is vicious!"
I stood slowly, the room only slightly spinning. I swallowed the dry, disgusting feeling in my throat, and began moving toward the exits that were now mostly clear.
"Let's go." She nodded at me, and took my arm. We had to wait behind several people trying to all get through the same revolving door. My skin felt spiky and cold.
"Hang on! Wait!"
A voice behind me made ice run through my veins, and I closed my eyes, begging whatever God existed to spare me in this moment.
A hand gripped my shoulder, and I tensed, turning my face, and my eyes looked straight at him.
He had spotted me, running from his table to catch me. He had to have been pretty damn sure it was me to chase after me like that. Fans began to crowd us, camera phones coming out, pictures snapping.
The look on his face was much less certain than I expected, as if he possibly made a mistake.
"I'm sorry..." His voice was unsteady. "Do I," He cleared his throat, eyes bouncing back and forth between my own. "know you?"
My eyebrows shot up. He really didn't recognize me?
He thought he did, but now...
"No. I don't think so." I spit out my words, teeth grinding together. It felt exactly the same as the last time I had seen him.
He dropped his hand, eyes still transfixed on mine. "I swore..."
I just turned my body, pressing my way past the gathered crowd, not giving him the chance to think it through.
In the car, I stared out the back window, arms wrapped around myself.
"What did he say, honey?" Ray's voice was so gentle.
"He didn't recognize me. He thought he did, but once he got up close, I guess I look too different." My words were only a peg above a whisper.
"You going to be okay? I don't have to stay at Sean's."
I just wiped the stray tear off of my cheek. "It's fine. I'd rather be alone."
-
A long, scalding shower, two handfuls of shredded cheese, and a solid half-hour crying session later, I was laid catatonically on my bed, eyes staring at the screen as Grey's Anatomy flashed across my screen.
I had blanked my mind out, forcing myself to let the thoughts go for the night. I was too tired and broken to let my heart hurt like this again. It took a solid year to get over Noah enough that I was able to function again. My first year of med school was disappointing, and I didn't make any friends until I made it into the second year. It took me nearly three to start dating.
I couldn't do that again.
I had been ignoring the texts going off on my phone, assuming it was Ray just checking on me for the thousandth time. I did, however, decide to take a look when I heard my ringtone going off.
Who would be calling me at 2AM?
I didn't even bother checking the screen before I put the phone up to my ear, my voice hoarse from crying.
"Hello?"
"What are the odds that you haven't changed your number after all this time?"
I sat bolt upright, my voice catching in my throat. The voice on the other end sounded nearly as wrecked as mine.
"Noah?" It barely came out.
"It's been a long time."
I cleared the newly formed phlegm out of my throat. "It has."
"I knew that was you." It sounded deadly quiet in the background of his end of the line. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming tonight?"
I sighed. "Nick told you?"
"He might've."
I groaned. "Well, I asked him not to."
"Why?"
I scoffed. "What do you mean, why?" I rubbed my eyes. "We're not exactly speaking anymore, Noah."
He hummed. "That's true."
I chewed on my lip, not having any kind of clue of what to say.
"What did you think?"
"Of the show?"
"Mhm."
I sighed. "It was good. Different than what I would have expected."
A soft laugh came through the line. "How so?"
I smiled at that. "It's just a lot different than what I expected your music to sound like."
"In a bad way?"
"No. Not at all."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it." His voice was so serious. So monotone. Nothing at all like what I remembered.
The line fell silent again, and I found this irritating. What was he playing at?
"Why did you call, Noah?"
I heard a breath on the other end, and some rustling. "I don't know."
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have."
"Maybe. I wanted to hear your voice."
My stomach tightened. "Now you have. I should go."
"Wait..." I held the phone firm, waiting. "I want to see you."
My heart pounded. "What?"
"I need to see you." His words were so matter-of-fact.
"I don't think so, Noah. That's not a great idea."
"It's not, but I'm asking..." He sounded so small. "Can I please see you?"
I perused the idea. "When?"
"Now?"
I scrunched up my face, sitting up again. "Now? It's after two in the morning."
"I don't care. I'll come to wherever you are."
This struck me. Maybe he hadn't changed?
"I, uh," I struggled to speak. "Noah, I don't know. I'm at home, it's late. I should be sleeping."
"Y/N?" I stopped, listening. "Please?"
I am a weak woman, and that is just plain fact. I was frantically running throughout the apartment, attempting to tidy any kind of mess I could get my hands on. Ray and I hadn't taken the time to really clean in months, so it was stressing me out. My pajama pants were hanging low on my hips, and I swam in my large sweatshirt.
My hair was falling loose around my face, and I was sure my eyes were puffy from the crying I had done. How insane was I? Had I completely lost it?
It was almost 3AM when a knock came at my apartment door, and I froze in place. What was I doing? Why was I allowing this to happen? I didn't need to do this to myself.
I was fine, living in my normal, tired bubble. I was headed towards a successful career that would take me further than I ever imagined. Why was I allowing this trainwreck of a friendship back into my life? What was I thinking?!
I wasn't. That was the answer to that question.
I opened the door, not sure what to expect on the other side. He stood, still as tall as I remembered, looming in the doorway. He wore a black hoodie, hands tucked neatly in the pocket. Dark blue jeans and black Converse. A white beanie covering his hair.
Like this, he looked almost recognizable. Except for his eyes...
Just like in the photograph I had seen earlier, his eyes were so dark. There was very little life behind them. Deep blue circles hung under the rims, making a pull in my chest show itself.
I just stood, blocking the doorway, hand white-knuckling the frame.
"Hi." Was all he managed. He was staring at me, eyes moving up and down my face as if he was seeing an apparition.
"Hi." I echoed, trying to not feel out of place under his stare.
"I'm glad you agreed to see me." He didn't move an inch, his jaw ticking closed with his last work.
I just nodded, letting out all of my air. "Yeah, well, you were insistent."
He nodded, finally looking away from me and down at the ground.
"I had to."
I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes. "Did you?" He raised a brow at me. "Did you just have to see me? Because I think we probably would've been alright without it."
I could see his face fall, hurt by what I said, but I didn't care. He never did.
"I'm sorry. I know it's selfish."
"Mm," I pinched my lips together, and opened my door wider. "come in."
I stalked back into the house, not daring to look back at him. I heard the door shut behind me, and I steadied myself, expecting to turn around and see him vanished.
To my chagrin, he was still there.
Deciding not to stagnate, I walked into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of tea from the fridge, and walking back out to the living area. He hadn't moved, and was still staring at me.
"So." I motioned to him. "What can I do for you?"
Noah was so statuesque, as if carved right out of stone. "I don't really know."
My face lifted, a smirk on my lips. "You don't know? Noah," I placed a hand on my hip. "you show up here at 3AM, and you have no idea why?"
He shrugged, eyes begging me for mercy. "I'm sorry. I don't."
"Can you stop apologizing and just tell me why you're here?!" My patience snapped, startling even me.
This took him back, but instead of tucking tail and backing away, he stood straighter, face hardening.
"I can't tell you why I'm here if I don't know, alright?" His words were stern.
"Well you must have some kind of reason? Because this feels wildly unnecessary."
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "It is? So you didn't want to see me?"
I set my tea on the coffee table and stood nonchalantly. "Not really."
He narrowed his eyes. "I don't buy it." He took a step toward me, but I stood firm. "If you didn't you wouldn't have stayed, tonight. You would've left after you saw the band your friends went to see."
He was closer now, and it felt like a string had tethered between us, the tension slowly slacking.
"Yeah, well, I wanted to see your set. See how the band was doing."
He snickered at me. "Oh, sure. Of course." His hands finally appeared from his pockets, one running over his chin. "Which song was your favorite?"
Oop. I wasn't expecting that.
"The second one. Villain, or something?"
He nodded. "Like A Villain." Noah's eyes weren't buying it. "Which one did you like least?"
I scoffed. "I don't know, Noah? The first one?"
"Mm, and which one was that?"
I was swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn't remember, the night blurring together.
"Uh, I don't know the name."
He took a step back, triumphant. "You weren't there for the set. You wanted to see me."
Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms. "Still as self-absorbed as ever, I see?"
"Am I wrong?"
He had me backed into a corner, and he fucking knew it.
I threw my arms up. "Fine! Maybe I did. But you wanted to see me too."
He sneered at me, venom on his lips. "Obviously, or else I wouldn't be here."
"You still haven't said why."
"Why did you want to see me?"
My voice was raising, frustration growing. "I don't know!"
"I don't know either!" He yelled back at me, and my mouth snapped closed. Noah never raised his voice at me. Not ever.
He took three long strides over to me until he was only stood a foot away.
"I didn't expect to ever see you again, Y/N! I thought you were gone forever! So imagine my surprise when I see you walking out of the House of Blues, and you deny even knowing me!"
I felt like shrinking into a ball right there on the floor, ceasing to exist.
"I wanted to see you because how could I not?! Seven fucking years, Y/N!" He backed down for a second, his breathing becoming ragged. "I've been waiting seven years."
I furrowed my brow. "Waiting?"
"For you to reach out. To tell me you missed me. To give me some kind of indication we could reconcile and be us again."
There was a fire, deep down in my gut, that I had never been able to truly extinguish. A fire Noah had lit years ago. A mine shaft burning like the depths of hell in my belly that I had buried under concrete and therapy, keeping it at bay.
In my apartment, tonight, that fire broke loose. And there was no stopping it.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I took a step forward, pressing into his space, index finger jabbing into his chest. "I was supposed to reach out?!"
He took a step back, eyes now full of fear.
"I professed my love to you, Noah! I told you I wanted you, and you fucking left!"
He puffed at me, pointing a finger back at me. "You told me to leave!'
"Yes! Because you told me you didn't love me! You told me you couldn't love me the way I loved you!"
He squeezed his lids shut tight, growling and turning away from me, taking several steps away. His hands came up, gripping the beanie on his head.
"God damn it Y/N!" He turned to look at me, a fiery rage matching my own behind his eyes. "Of course I fucking loved you!"
My heart stopped, completely motionless.
"What?"
"I've always loved you! From the moment I laid fucking eyes on you! I've never loved anyone, no one, the way I loved you!" He charged me, backing me toward the couch. "But I couldn't love you, Y/N! I wasn't good enough. I was a piss-poor high school dropout musician trying to make a name for himself, and, until recently, failing miserably."
I couldn't speak, thoughts racing so fast, I struggled to keep up.
"And you?" He pointed a finger back into my chest. "You were smart, and motivated, and you were going to make something of yourself. I couldn't drag you down with me. I couldn't force you to follow this journey with me. It would've ruined your life!"
My lungs weren't working right, and my hands were shaking. He wasn't actually saying this. I was hallucinating.
"So I left. I left to give you a chance at a real life. Which, evidently, you've managed to build without me." He took a step back, then, dropping his hands. "And I, somehow, without you."
This hurt me, hearing he had managed to become so successful, despite my involvement.
"Noah, I had no idea-"
"No," He cut me off. "you didn't."
I hadn't even caught the tears falling from my eyes, blurring my vision until he was just a watery mess in front of me.
"You didn't need me." I choked out, and he looked directly at me, inquisitively. "You've made it so far. You're a rockstar now, Noah."
He scoffed. "Y/N, you don't get it." He looked away from me, focused on the wall behind me. "I died without you. Something inside of me was lost the day I left, and I never got it back."
"Well, you're successful now, so it can't be so bad, right?"
He snorted, shaking his head. "Success always comes with a price."
My lips were wet with the tears I couldn't hold in, and I couldn't keep my breathing even. I knew he saw it, but hesitated to engage, wanting to keep a wide berth between us. I couldn't take it. It was too much.
Hearing he loved me. Hearing I had been wrong all this time. Hearing that the heartbreak I felt for so long wasn't his fault. He was protecting me, even after all these years.
"Noah?" He chanced a glance at me, and I saw his own eyes sparkling with moisture.
I couldn't take it.
I rushed him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and clinging on, desperate to find relief against him. My lips smashed into his, tearing apart the barrier I had worked so hard to build.
His hands grabbed me, holding me into place against him, his lips melted into mine, returning the kiss fervently. We were hopeless. We were hungry.
My tears didn't stop flowing, emotion pouring out of every pore. My fingers clawed at him, needing to get closer. My hand grabbed the beanie, and pulled it off of his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. I gripped it at the scalp, trying to pull myself closer.
Feeling what I was attempting to do, his hands lifted me by the back of my legs, so I could wrap them around his midsection. I refused to disconnect the kiss, breathing in his soul. It was so real and so familiar. How I missed it like hell.
His legs carried us to the couch, where he sat us down. My legs straddled him, and I finally pulled away to tug at the sweatshirt he wore. He made quick work of pulling it up over his head while I did the same with my own. Reconnecting our lips, my hands wandered over his neck and chest, scratching at the fabric of his shirt.
His teeth caught my bottom lip, and I moaned into his mouth. His fingers pulled at the waistband of my pajama pants, and I lifted myself enough to slip them off, replacing myself on his lap. His jeans were already getting tighter as his hands smoothed up and down my thighs.
"Fucking hell." He looked down, staring at my bare breasts in front of him. "These got bigger, huh?"
I laughed, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, well, things change."
His fingers gripped around my left breast, lips falling to circle around the hardened nipple. I let my head fall back, relishing in the warm feeling spreading throughout my body.
"Still so fucking beautiful, just like I remember." I pulled at the hair on the back of his neck. "Did you miss me, baby girl?"
I ground my hips down against him in response. His hand began playing with the button of his jeans, and I moved it away to open them myself.
I stood up to pull his jeans down to his knees, his boxers bulging in the crotch.
"Oh, fuck." I sighed out. "Yeah, I missed you."
His smile then was devious, some of that regular spark shining back in his eyes. "Then show me, huh?"
Reaching into the opening of his underwear, I pulled his cock free, taking a moment to remember just how large it was. It had been a very long time since I had seen anything quite that impressive. Dipping my head down, I licked a long stripe up the shaft, lingering on the head to gather the precome leaking out.
"Holy shit." His head fell back on the couch, his eyes rolling back with it. "Mm, do that again, please?"
I smirked, looking up at him. "Only since you asked so nicely."
My tongue repeated the movement, drawing out a hard groan out of him, his legs twitching. "Fuck yeah, baby."
Without warning, I wrapped my lips around him and swallowed him as far down as my throat would allow, gagging on the tip as it struck my tonsils. His hips jolted upward, effectively fucking my throat.
"Please, Y/N, I won't last that way." He begged, his words only coming out as breaths. "I need to feel you, please."
He was begging, and I couldn't resist it. I needed him too.
I stood back up, and kneeled on either side of him, carefully lining him up with my entrance. When I sunk down, that delicious burn pierced through me, and my body collapsed onto him at the intensity of it.
"Noah, oh my God." He ran a hand up my back, allowing me a moment to adjust.
"I know, baby. I know." He soothed me, rubbing small circles into my skin.
My hips stuttered forward, needing to feel the friction. His hand reached down to grab my ass, and lifted me upward. Without warning, his hips snapped forward and fucked into me, making a sharp scream leave my lips.
My face rested on his chest, whimpers falling from my throat with each hard thrust.
"Fuck, you missed me, pretty girl?" He was panting between his words, his rhythm picking up speed. "Missed the way I fuck you?"
My eyes were rolling back, the tears from before now replaced with tears of raw pleasure.
"I'll bet you've never been fucked like this, huh?" His words were just tones of desire playing in my ears, his cock absolutely destroying me. "No one can fuck you like I can, baby. No one."
My nails dug hard into his shirt, begging for release.
"Let me know when you come, baby. Not finishing until you do."
Luckily for him, I was riding the edge so hard it was making the room spin. Biting my lip to keep from screaming, I lifted myself to look at his face.
"Noah," I searched his eyes, his hips not faltering. "I love you."
He grit his teeth, trying to focus on me and his hips at the same time. "I love you, too. So fucking much."
My face fell back down, landing on the side of his neck. "I'm going to come. Please, Noah, I'm so close..."
He, somehow, managed to pump into me harder, sending my body over the cliff and into the warm waves of my orgasm. My body went slack against him as my walls pulsed around his length.
I heard him curse, and his hips stilled. I felt him spasming inside me, and silently thanked myself for my IUD.
We laid that way, sweaty and heaving, for a solid ten minutes before either of us could find the strength to move. I slipped him out of me, and sat up to look at him. He looked absolutely wrecked, in the best possible way.
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread over me.
"Hi." Was all I could manage.
He chuckled tiredly. "Hi."
-
After our excursion, Noah and I had taken a few minutes to clean up, and, being as exhausted as you'd expect, decided to lay together for a while.
He told me he had to leave within a few hours to get back to his hotel, heading to the next city bright and early, so I told him I'd stay up until he had to leave.
However, in my bed, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his voice whispering sweet words in my ears, I struggled to remain conscious.
"Do you remember when I bought you that Oasis album for your fourteenth birthday? That was basically me professing my love to you."
"I was such an idiot. I should've just told you."
"You have no idea how much I've missed you. I don't think you'll ever understand."
"I'm so sorry. I wish things were different..."
And that's how I woke up, light in my bedroom far too bright, and my bed empty.
I don't know what I expected? For him to stay? Fuck off his tour to make up for lost time with me?
But still, my chest stung when I saw he had left, but I wasn't surprised.
Something had changed last night, and the darkness that lingered in the depths of my being had lifted, leaving me with a sense of hope I hadn't felt before.
When I had woken for the day, clearing the cobwebs from my eyes, I contemplated my next move. He had surely left town already, but that didn't mean I couldn't keep in touch, right?
Pulling out my phone, I found his contact, and opened a text thread.
Me: Hey, call me when you can. I think we have a lot to talk about. :)
I set my phone down on the bathroom counter, preparing to brush my teeth when my phone dinged, and the notification told me the text had failed.
Odd?
I resent it, getting the same response.
Why would my messages fail? I paid my bill, right?
Quickly dialing Ray's number, I held the phone to my ear and heard the ringing, so I knew my service was fine. Giving her a quick apology for waking her, I hung up, and went back to my texts.
His number was the same, right?
I went back to my call logs, seeing it was his number that called me last night, so it was the same as it had always been.
So...what the hell?
My finger hovered over the number for a moment, and I weighed the options before finally resolving to just call him. Make sure I wasn't losing my mind.
I held the phone to my face as I started brushing my teeth, waiting for the call to connect.
"The number you have reached is not in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again."
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awoogayanderes · 1 month
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A BIRTHDAY GIFT FROM OSAMU DAZAI
➪ sypnosis : waiting for dazai’s attention is like playing a game of cat and mouse.
➪ other notes : it’s a day late but it’s okay because i went on a shopping spree yesterday, ALSO, i have another chapter of convergence finished and ready to post but i’m waiting until i can finish writing the next chapter of between the floors so i can post them at the same time, non edited :3
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tick. tick. tick. you look up at your wall clock as every second clicks on it. it was 11:48 pm, and on any other day, you wouldn’t have cared. but today was your birthday, a very special day for you. your phone is in your hand as you wait for a single call from someone, osamu dazai. surely he remembered, right ? maybe he was on a mission and just hasn’t had the time to call you.
you and dazai weren’t in a relationship…well not exactly. some could call it a situationship, others could call it friends with benefits. but you disagreed, dazai was just a complicated man. and you were always the one who was there when he had his moments of sadness. he would call you late at night and you would go over to his apartment, comforting him as you held his tall form in your arms.
you try to soothe yourself as your eyes flick towards the array of presents your friends had given you, but none of them matter when you’re waiting for dazai to call you, or at least send you a quick text. ten minutes go by, it’s 11:58 pm and your position on your couch hasn’t changed as you slightly tear up, he really wasn’t going to call ? you let out a shaky sigh. buzz. buzz. buzz. your eyes immediately widen.
you frantically pick up the phone, it was dazai, you quickly answer his call. “hello ?!” you say into the phone, a smile forming on your face as your lips wobble with happiness, all the doubt going away. there’s a few moments of silence that go by before dazai speaks up, “wanna come over ?” your smile falters, he hadn’t talked to you all day, and that’s the first thing he says to you, on your birthday���?
“w-what ?” you quietly say as you held your phone tighter. “feeling a bit lonely, you know,” dazai sighs into the phone. you scoff, he wanted your comfort right now ? “where have you been all day ?” you ask. “i was hungover so i took the day off,” he says, you can tell there’s a smile on his face as he says that. so you were wrong, he was sitting on his ass all day as you stupidly waited for a ‘happy birthday’.
you look at your walk clock, it was 11:59 pm, he really didn’t care, did he ? “dazai, do you know what day it is ?” you ask him, your eyes tearing up again, dazai call tell theres something off about you. “i’m sorry, pretty, but i don’t know what you mean, it’s tuesday,” dazai chuckles, making you let out a whimper, catching dazai off guard, but he doesn’t bring it up as a few moments of soft ticking go by.
tick. tick. tick. 12:00 am. “happy fucking birthday to me,” you whisper into the phone. oh, so that was what he forgot. dazai tries to recover by saying “you thought i forgot ?” he chuckles. “i have your present for you right now,” he lies through his teeth. “just cut the shit dazai…why is it that i’m always here for you and you’re never here for me,” you say, voice breaking as you tears fall down your face.
“i know you’re upset, but i’m not your boyfriend, don’t treat me like one,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “then don’t contact me again, i’m not your girlfriend,” you seethe as you hang up. dazai looked at his phone before tossing it to the side as he sighs. you quickly block dazai’s number before crying yourself to sleep on your couch, realizing that dazai wouldn’t be apart of your life anymore.
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