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#but when I tried looking for another there's no support from anywhere
backsideattackkkk · 2 days
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“I think it would be better if the earth were torn apart”
on january 19, 2018, 16-year-old anton bichivin burned a classroom with a molotov cocktail and wounded 5 students, and 1 teacher with an axe before he jumped out of the school window and started hitting his own body with an axe, he was however, overpowered by bystanders and taken to hospital in a critical condition along with his victims, and when his condition improved, he was arrested by the police.
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note: bichivin was a 9th grader but he targeted a 7th grade L.A. class
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bichiwin was bullied at school because of his other interests. during the attack, he was wearing a KMFDM T-shirt. before the attack, he allegedly bet on a website glorifying columbine that he would commit a massacre at his school.
"The boy [the assailant] gave a warning: he sent a viber message to a girl and said she should not go to school because 'things would get messy'." 
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the attack happened at 7:00 am, he entered the classroom, according to the students, in a state of amok and started attacking students with an axe.
one girl lost a finger as a result of the attack. another student tried to stop bichivin, but was stuck by the ax into his back and critically wounded, one more student (sasha bortsova) who was 14 years-old at the time, suffered a axe hit to the head.
he also cracked the teacher in the skull as she attempted to run out of the classroom. students suffered light burns even though the classroom was engulfed (probably due to the fact they jumped into the snow).
note: 11 months after the attack bortsova still suffered from headaches, and pain from her injuries.
note: this attack was 9 months before the bombing/shooting at kerch polytechnic, when the attack came on the news bortsova's mom had said sasha began to "shake with fear".
many fifth school students were transferred by their parents to other schools immediately after the attack.
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‘‘Doom and Painkiller games are constantly spinning in my head, I imagine the future carnage, as in these games. As if I were the hero and must destroy the evil spirits. It will be cool. It will be like Doom with Painkiller.’‘ ‘‘I don’t feel fear and pity for the enemies of my planet.‘‘
mash published a page from a diary allegedly belonging to bichivin. he writes about computer games in the "shooter" genre and about his fantasies that he must organize a "massacre" and destroy the "evil spirits."
“I think it would be better if the earth were torn apart”
many of bichivin's classmates were amazed when they saw this diary on the Internet.
“I think he had some kind of mental disorder. He used to talk about some kind of war often, but we didn’t think it was serious, and then the attack and his online diary that he kept... now it’s clear why he behaved this way”
quote above from oleg (classmate of bichivin).
It later turned out that two students helped him prepare this crime. anton bichivin and two other teenagers, who, according to the schoolchildren, “were in the dark.” 
"Any criminal world is looking for a replacement and a way to obtain their livelihood. Teenagers are a favorable environment for them"
quote above from vladimir lozovoy, he says there are facts when former prisoners specifically look for children in boarding schools and, choosing naughty psychotypes, introduce them to their world. It's there, and it hasn't gone anywhere.
a child, seeing support from an adult from the criminal world, feels more protected and demonstrates this in class or school.
the desire to be involved in crime must somehow be ridiculed and belittled, promoting other values. If you make AUE something flawed in the eyes of children, then those who want to be successful will not go there, and this subculture will disappear by itself.
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multicolour-ink · 8 months
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I just feel so down
- I've gained weight because I eat too much sugar and I just hate the way I look right now.
- I'm stuck in a job I hate.
- It's a rubbish job with terrible hours and I barely have time for any recreation.
- I feel like I'm a failure in the sense I'm not bringing anything remotely worthwhile to my family (even though they would say otherwise).
- I feel bone idle and lazy because I prefer to sit around and do nothing.
- I'm mentally exhausted. All the time.
- I'm depressed.
- I'm too scared to make any changes because I always get let down.
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buckyalpine · 7 months
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Fluff, domestic cuteness, more fluff, I know it’s not everyone’s thing but pleaseee hear me out; just imagine beeeefy paramedic Bucky taking care of you when you’re in labor. You’re ex decided to leave halfway, realizing he wasn’t ready to be a father when you were already midway through your pregnancy, not that he was much help in the first place. You managed all on your own, ready to bring your little baby into the world all by yourself which is exactly how you ended up in this situation.
You were so close to your due date, ready to pop at any moment but your cravings for a donut didn't cease so you waddled down to the corner coffee shop in hopes of getting something with double chocolate.
Everything was fine until another customer bumped into you, sending you tumbling to the floor. A sudden sharp searin pain began to radiate through the lower half of your belly making you cry out in pain and it didn't take long for a crowd to form, the number of shouting voices and concerned faces adding to your growing anxiety. Al elderly woman held you hand while you tried to hold back tears; you couldn't get up, still laying on the floor when the faint sound of an ambulance grew louder.
A firm voice cleared the path, 2 large men walking towards you, ushering the crowd away from you first. The one with brunette hair crouches over to you, giving you a comforting smile before asking you a few quick basic questions, all while neatly looking over you for any signs of a major injury.
“Up you go, mama” he lifted you up with 0 effort, carrying you carefully in his thick arms, laying you down gently onto the stretcher. A sudden contraction rips through you causing you to panic more while your on your way to the hospital but he takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze.
"Hey, its okay, look at me doll, focus on me alright?" He continue to hold your hand while monitoring your heart rate and vitals, timing your contractions since they're happening closer and closer together. "I know it won't make the pain go away but how about I try and distract you, hm? My names James but you can call me Bucky" He threw you a wink while you tried your best to focus on the feel of his hand, calloused palms from lifting, yet soft and warm. You focused on his baby blue eyes and scruffy beard and sweet pink lips that curve into a half smile; no doubt he was a shy charmer.
As soon as the ambulance stops, you're whisked away to the delivery ward, poked and prodded by doctors again. None of this was part of the plan and the pain was getting worse.
"How's she doing" Bucky came by the ward on his break, curious about the sweet thing he helped earlier in the day; surely you had a partner of some sort but he couldn't help himself nonetheless. The doctor directed him to your room, his heart breaking seeing your tear streaked, terrified face.
"Everything alright, mama?" He knew you were scared, hell, he was scared himself just thinking about the situation. He rested his hand on top of yours, careful not to touch anywhere near needles. You'd been at this hospital for 2 hours already and you were still alone without another visitor in sight. "Is uh-anyone-do you want me to call anyone-
You shook your head, biting down on your lip to keep it from trembling, gripping onto him tighter. The pain was becoming unbearable, alerting the doctor and nurse to check on you again.
"She's gonna have to start pushing" You overheard the nurse as she spoke to the doctor, your heartrate racing more. Your panic stricken face wasn't missed by Bucky, still planted in his seat as if he had any business being there. He debated on if you felt comfortable with him there, ready to go or stay, whatever you needed.
"Doll, it's almost time, I can leave-
"Please-please don't go" You shakily cling onto his hand, now frozen in fear when you realize the moment is coming. The baby is almost here and you're alone. There's no one here to support you, no one here to-
"M'not going anywhere, I'm here, you're doin' great" Bucky let you squeeze his hand as tightly as you wanted, coaching you through your breathing while you were prepared to have the baby. "C'mon, push mama, you can do it, almost there"
You were in tears, sweating, crying, and Bucky couldn't help but find you beautiful. Not that he'd say that right then and there but there was something so raw and powerful in that moment, seeing you give yourself to bring in another life. He watched in awe as you fought with your body to push a human out of you.
"One more, just one more and your little one is here, you can do it doll, one last big push" He dabbed your forehead with a cool cloth, comforting you until you let out a final gasp, tiny screams filling the room. You fall back against the bed panting and he still holds your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles while giving you a proud smile.
"You did it, you did amazing mama"
-
After your baby boy is born, you still occasionally visit the hospital for checkups. You can't help the way your cheeks heat up every time you see Bucky, giving him a shy smile, lingering to talk to him longer than necessary every time you see him. You insisted on buying him and the rest of the paramedic crew coffee and donuts for helping you safely deliver your baby boy. Bucky blushes when you give him an extra donuts as a special thank you.
Each time he sees you, he likes you even more but he doesn't want to push his luck. Not when you're probably still trying to figure things out. Initially he's a little unsure, wanting to give you some space. He's also careful not to overstep any boundaries, making sure he's respectful.
Eventually he can't help himself.
He has to ask you out.
And he does.
3 years and a wedding later
You giggle watching your husband and son both press their heads against your swollen belly, whispering secrets to the little one growing inside as if you couldn't see them.
"Daddy, can she hear us?" Daniel asks with wide eyes, his little hands trying to feel the places where his baby sister was kicking.
"She can hear you baby, let her know you're gonna be her big brother" Bucky chuckled while Daniel continued to talk to your belly like he did every night ever since you found out you were pregnant.
"I can't wait to meet you" He hugs your tummy before crawling into Bucky's arms, ready to go to bed. Bucky takes him to his room, laying him down and tucking him in, pressing a kiss to his head before turning off the lights.
"Sleep tight little man"
"Night, daddy"
-
Your second pregnancy is nothing like your fist. Bucky is there by your side for every second of it. He takes time off work, cradling your belly so you don't have back pain. He reads up on books to take care of your cravings. He worships your changing body.
"Look at you, Mrs. Barnes" Bucky cooed, loving the way you filled out his Henley, your little belly stretching it while you pouted at him.
"I'm huge Bucky" you whined while he grinned, rubbing your tummy.
"S'cause you're carrying my baby, mama" He kissed your head, his large form scooping you up for some midday cuddles. He holds your close to his chest, excited over his growing family. You smile against his chest, closing your eyes while he rubs your back.
You're so happy you decided you wanted a donut.
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arminsumi · 9 months
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slow down, i'm not going anywhere
g. satoru + fem reader
note : i cooked up something for my man. my yummy lovely bb boy 🥰 just had brainrot for car sex with him. if u want more car sex w gojo then here's this post i made a while back !! anyways i am working on a cult leader suguru fic and it's proving so difficult to write i almost wanna trash it lol✌️
summary — some yummy car sex ft. your overstimmed bf and his pretty muscles
warnings — 🔞 minors don't read/interact, smut / 18+ content, not proofread, car sex, pwp, overstim., nicknames (kitten, baby, slut), creampie + unprotected sex + c*m/creampie visuals, kinda sub gojo but also dom??, delicious dirty talk 🙏
🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)
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... just thinking about gojo's muscles flexing and twitching when he's overstimmed.
his hair is ruffled at the back as it presses into the headrest. the car light would illuminate his features better if it weren't for the steamy haze of sex in the air.
you've got a good view of those tensing abs since his shirt is sloppily split open to reveal them to you. the base of his shirt is getting soaked in your juices. and his breathing is ragged as you ride out another orgasm on his lap. your hand rests on his abdomen, fingers feeling the dips of his muscles as they tense up while. he can feel his thighs shudder under you, dick numb with pleasure to the point where he can't focus on anything else but that feeling you're giving him.
gojo loves it when you admire his body, it makes him feel loved. makes him feel special. fuels his ego till it pops but he's too blissed out and overstimmed to be cocky now.
your eyes and hands roam his pecks. his abs. the contours of his body. the dips n curves. you feel his muscular thighs supporting your heavy bounces.
his physique looks so pretty when it's tensing up, and his face is even prettier — his forehead is beading with sweat, his eyes are lidded so much that you're sure he can't see through them right now, his cheeks are damp and his lips are puffy and red from the erotic, hyper make out session that preceded this even more erotic, hyper lap riding session.
"you always make such a mess of me, baby..." he says in a low, strained voice.
you can hear the effect of so many orgasms in his words, he sounds like he's just exhausted himself at the gym.
"c-can't think straight with those hips on top of mine, haha." he tries to laugh, then hisses when you bounce too fast up and down. he grabs for your curves, moaning, restraining your movements with that exciting strength.
"ahhhh tha-that feels too good, kitten, slow down a bit." he begs lightly.
his cock is so sensitive, and you've got it tightly wrapped up in your gummy walls; he can feel you pulse through every orgasm. feel you shudder each time his cock beats into a sweet spot. it drives him nuts, that milking sensation of your contracting walls, it feels like you're pulling on his soul.
when you whimper weakly against his sweaty forehead, mouth pressing to his skin, "but it feels good..." and roll your hips at a faster pace contrary to his needs, he lets out the most erotic, high-pitched noise you've ever heard a man make.
"sh—iiiit baby! hah... hah... slow down, i'm not going anywhere. w-we've got time, don't needa rush. 'promise i'm not goin' anywhere, not when your pussy feels this good." he struggles to look at you through his lidded eyes. his lashes look so pretty up close, especially in this dim light; there's nothing but abyssal black night outside the car. the radio is turned down low, the squelching sex sounds easily drown out any noise coming through the speakers.
your boyfriend looks so exhausted from cumming inside you three times by now. so you give into his wishes, though it felt good to have his cock beating that deep sweet spot inside of you. slow, swirling rolls of your hips, grinding grinding grinding until he groans and tilts his head off to the side in pure pleasure. the two of you relish that sloppy sound of frothed up cum. it cakes at his base. it feels so delicious that he wishes he could pull his phone out to snap a pic to save into his private little folder titled my baby's designer pussy :)💗
"oh my god... that's it... fuck, feel me there? yeah? feel all that cum, too baby? so fucking nasty... " he groans.
and he moans dramatically. because gojo is such a performer; a real dramatic sex star.
after those hard hits and enduring his sensitivity, slow sensual strokes are just what he needs to tip over. his cock feels raw, pure pleasure pulsing through it like electricity. and you feel raw, too. it almost hurts to squeeze your gummy walls around him. he always stretches you so good, regardless of how tight you are on that day.
"baby... cum with me." he commands, a glimpse of dominance showing in his demeanor after he was acting so docile for so long under your hips.
and getting filled by gojo? it's more delicious than anything.
thick, creamy. his cum smells pungent, it squirts out into your pussy and just spills right out because he fucked your hole too loose, and runs down his cock right along that thumping vein. a sweet fresh load adding to the rest of those nasty, gooey white releases.
he chuckles after cumming, and pants and heaves right against your ear. your bodies are just melted together, sticky and sweaty. he likes feeling as if he's glued to your body.
he notices you digging your nails into his biceps for stability, feeling a rush at the sensation. "y-you're so pretty when you cum and shake for me..." he murmurs against your cheek, nose grazing your skin. he means that. you really are so pretty. and not like the textbook definition; but like an otherworldly goddess.
and you act as kind as one, treating him not as if he's a god but like he's just your precious baby boy. he loves that. he needs it. that comforting voice calms him down after cumming so hard in your pussy, and that soothing hand on his cheek gives him shivers of happiness.
"fuck... 'needa... pull it out... hnnn..." it's always funny when he pulls out with a — pop — and you see him wince at the slight overstim. his cockhead always gets a fright when squeezing out of that tight entrance.
"how the hell am i gonna drive home with all this cum over my pants haha... you made a fucking mess on my dick, baby. look at all that cream..." he laughs, looking down between the two of you. both of your clothes are soaked right through. the windows are steamed up.
"sorry..." you mumble with a small smile, feeling a bit drunk off the pleasure that the two of you shared these past two hours in his car.
your eyes glaze over his chest; it's pretty when it's heaving heavy like that. with sweat running down the middle dip of his abs. and the sheen of your juice smeared on his v-line. snowy white pubes creeping up cutely to make a happy trail.
"you're so pretty, satoru." you murmur admiringly, voice shaky after such a long session in his car.
his heart flutters. but his response is cheeky, masking how shy he truly felt at such a tender compliment. "oh yeah? 'well if you think i'm pretty you should see my girlfriend. she's hot as hell."
you roll your eyes and get off his lap. he frowns then laughs, "aw no, i thought you were gonna straddle me while i drive home..." and he'd started the engine, you felt the rumble in your thighs. it's funny, a hunk of muscle like him sitting in a muscle car.
"i'm pretty sure that's a safety hazard..." you chuckle lowly.
he rolls his eyes and nods. "yeah yeah. mmm baby wait. come here, let me kiss you — thanks for riding me so good. you fuck me up like no one else, you know. 'n in my car too... heh... scandalous lil' slut."
he pecks your lips, the savory taste and lip-locking sound pleases his senses.
and the poor man. he has to drive home with cum-soaked pants. but it's worth it. the next time he sits in his car to go somewhere, he smiles when he finds your lacy panties still tangled around the gear shift. seeing them makes his mind race with the memory of this night and how hard you rolled those hips against him. it gets him bricked up, yes, and he maybe has to jerk himself off in his car before actually driving otherwise he'll be heading down the highway with a boner sticking up in his face.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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pierregazly · 2 months
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soft for you ꨄ lance stroll
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lance stroll x reader
warnings: disgusting fluff, mention of crash [1018 words]
request: could i request 3 & 4 from the 🫶🏼 prompt list with lance? [3. SMILING during a kissss >>>>> and 4. the gaze that softens as soon as it lands on you.]
note: lance taking after his dad >>> relationships come before f1 >>> this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!
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He was pissed. Even without hearing his words, or knowing the whole situation, you could see it in his face. His eyebrows were pinched, the sarcastic roll of his eyes after every sentence that left his mouth, both stark examples of how genuinely angry Lance was.
It had been a nightmare of a season from the first race, anything that could go wrong, having gone wrong. You knew nothing you could say or do would truly change Lance’s perspective. The car wasn’t great, the strategy was poor, and little mistakes had begun piling up, the damage to his car worse and worse almost every race.
And the first race of the season you were able to attend? Another crash, another early end to Lance’s race. You couldn’t help the grimace that overtook your face as you watched him argue with one of the engineers, his hands flying up in the air in exasperation as another eye roll was visible from your spot across the room.
Multiple people were trying to avoid looking at the conversation currently taking place, not wanting to overstep or get anywhere near the line of fire once Lance finally made his exit from the room. You couldn’t help but stare at the situation, waiting for him to finally look up, to finally make eye contact with you.
It didn’t take him long to do so once he realized he had multiple eyes on him, his brown orbs locating your own just seconds later. His face, his mere gaze, softened almost immediately, any comment from his engineer going unheard and ignored as he simply nodded his head in response to whatever he was saying. You couldn’t help the small smile that began to form on your face as he walked towards you, leaving his mechanics and engineers to stew in their own anger and frustration.
Just another little thing you could always count on. He could be livid. He could be whipping his steering wheel across the room, or shouting at whoever would listen; but he would never allow it to enter your relationship. It was one thing you admired, one of so many things you loved about him. His career, his job, it was separate from your relationship and always had been.
He didn’t talk about racing when he was with you, didn’t talk about how poor the season was going or how miserable he was beginning to become. He would talk about it when you urged him to, not wanting him to bottle it up, not wanting him to feel as if you didn’t support him when he was at his worst. But he never let it effect your relationship, never let the anger mask his love for you, or the way he treated you.
Pulling you into his arms once he was close enough, you felt his chin rest gently on the crown of your head as a loud exhale left his body. His back muscles were tense, his body practically shaking in frustration as he squeezed you tighter, trying to take advantage of all the time he could get with you.
Pulling back, you watched the corners of his lips curve as he gazed down at you. Your grip on his bicep not letting up as you observed the influx of emotions cross his features. The defeat, the frustration, the misery; they were so prevalent at first, so raw as he tried to contain them. But before long, the emotions of devastation began to melt away. The small grin on his face not wavering as he looked down on you, practically delighted to see you, regardless of the outcome of his day.
“Bonjour, mon coeur. You look beautiful, as always,” he murmured.
Smiling up at him, you stood on your tiptoes so you could press a small kiss to his lips in gratitude for his words.
“Bonjour, my love. How are you? Are you okay? Are you sore? You’re very tense,” the onslaught of questions spewed from your lips, unable to contain them as you began looking him over.
The soft grip on your cheek was all you needed to glance back up into his eyes. A faint smile still graced his face as he gently ran his thumb across your cheek. A smile still graced his face as he leaned down to press his lips against yours, prompting your own lips to curve upwards as he did so. 
“I’m fine, mon coeur. A little sore, nothing I haven’t dealt with before. I just have to deal with some media, and probably some more yelling, and then we can get out of here, yeah? I can book us reservations for somewhere, or we can just get room service back at the hotel? Whatever you want.”
“Lance… if you want to talk about the race, we can. You don’t have to be so nonchalant about it, I know you’re not happy,” you said.
Shrugging his shoulders at you, his only response was to lean down and brush his lips against yours again, the curve of them still so prominent. The softness, the gentleness, the simple adoration so evident in his every action with you.
His lips touched yours before moving on to the tip of your nose, your cheeks, the skin below your ear; a smile gracing his lips with every kiss.
“I’m not happy, but not much I can do about it. I’m not going to let it determine my time with you, though. Work stays at work, no need to bring it back to the hotel with us. So, reservations, or hotel dinner?”
Before you could answer, Lance continued.
“Dinner in the hotel sounds like a good idea, I think. Room service and some reality television sounds like a good time to me, maybe cuddle up a little and ignore the world. What do you think?”
Pressing your lips against his with a large grin, your only response was a squeeze of his bicep and a nod of your head. If he wanted to escape the world and hold you all night? Well, all you could do was say ‘yes’. 
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just wanted to write something soft/loving so i hope y'all love this!!! thank you everyone for participating in my follower celebration and being lovely!!!
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slytherinshua · 2 months
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YOUR WOUNDS WRAPPED WITH MY LOVE
genre. fluff. tiny bit of angst. mafia au. warnings. descriptions of a stab wound. blood. knives and guns. some profanity. kissing. they kinda argue but very mildly. i researched a little on how to treat wounds but pls don't expect it to be too accurate 😭. pairing. fiancé!jeno x reader. wc. 1.5k. request. no. a/n. so ever since the concept trailers this jeno has been the only thing on my mind I swear 😔 and nursing trope is one of my fav tropes ever so I joined the two together and was very delulu 👍
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“Again?” You asked, less than happy at the sight of the tall man who stood against the doorframe, one hand clutching his side painfully. Lee Jeno always disappeared without warning on another mission only to return, usually injured, for you to patch him up. You had urged him to hire an actual medic for the job, but he refused, saying he didn’t trust anyone but you to get that close to him. That was a few years back when the occasions for it were still rare. You were alarmed at how often he seemed to be going out, and returning with increasingly worse injuries.
Your knowledge and skill with patching up wounds— dagger wounds, bruises and scrapes from physical altercations, hell, even gunshot wounds— was a lot better than years ago. You were confident in your ability to get your fiancé back to health, but you weren’t pleased with how often you had to. No matter how much you pleaded with him to let his body rest, he would more often than not, be out again just hours after you had tended to his bleeding body.
“I’m sorry.” He grumbled out. You would have been shocked by how hoarse his voice had become if this was the first time, but you were all too used to it. Your heart still clenched painfully seeing him in that state.
He could barely walk, blood dripping a little from where his hand pressed tightly to his left side, his face scrunched in pain as laboured irregular breaths left his mouth. 
“Come here. Sit down. Tell me what happened.” You said quietly, already having gotten out the box of medical supplies. You were ready with the bottle of saline already, but it wasn’t anywhere near the top of Jeno’s worries. From the tone of your voice, he could tell you were mad at him. Or maybe it was mostly disappointment? A touch of worry, perhaps.
He made his way towards you, carefully limping towards the bed until he could gently lower himself onto it with his weight supported by the bedframe. He sat still as you gently took off his shirt, eyes assessing the dark red spot that stained the side of his stomach and up his ribcage. You glanced up to his face, and he met your eyes for half a second with a slow breath out.
“Knife. It’s not that deep, I stopped their hand before they could push it in very far.” He whispered, and then shut his eyes tightly when you dabbed a little at the wound with a soft wet cloth soaked in saline.
“Are you staying for long?” You asked, guarding your heart for what his answer would be. You loved Jeno— you loved him more than anything, and you tried to be as selfless as you could regarding him and his job. You never put up a fuss about having to patch him up, and you only ever gently tried to persuade him to be more careful. But it was hard, really hard. You couldn’t help but be hopeful that he might be able to stay for a bit longer with you. You hated how you only seemed to be seeing him to treat his wounds for the past month.
But it only reminded you of how he was by far the most selfless person you knew. 
Countless threats had always been looking for Jeno’s weakness. And you happened to be the most vital one. You were unspeakably precious to him, and unfortunately, his rivals knew that. Of course, he did everything he could to protect you. You trusted him with your life. There was no one else who you would ever trust as much as him. And he had never lost your trust. You had never even had a scratch delivered to you. But the tradeoff of the protection that Jeno made sure you had was his own life being put at risk almost every day.
Every cut, stab, or bruise that littered his fair skin were marks of how determined he was to keep you safe. The least you could do was treat his body in return with your gentle hands, wiping away the blood, wrapping the wounds carefully, and stitching them up when needed.
Jeno answered your question with only a silent nod yes. Although relief filled your body that he wouldn’t be out again immediately, you still focused on the more important task at hand. You could enjoy his company once he wasn’t bleeding.
“Are they still after you?” You rummaged around in the box for the antibiotic ointment, dabbing a bit on your finger before leaning closer to apply it. “This’ll sting.” You muttered as a warning before dabbing the wound as carefully as you could. Jeno tensed up, his fingers bunching up the sheet of the bed as he did his best to stay still.
“Talk to me. It’ll help distract you.” You told him, pausing your application of the antibiotics to rest a hand on his shoulder, providing a small bit of comfort.
“They’re… They’re after you, not me. You know that.” He whispered out as you continued to treat the wound. “They can’t take me by themselves— they’d be fucking stupid to try. I made sure that they won’t bother us for at least a month. I’ll have to talk to Renjun and Donghyuck about our next course of action.” You hummed in understanding, grabbing the roll of gauze next. 
“You need to rest your body, Jeno.” You said quietly. You could tell he was about to protest, so you interrupted quickly, “Doctor’s orders. Don’t pull anymore dumb shit.”
“It’s not dumb shit. It’s to protect you.” He argued back, clenching his jaw.
You sighed, starting to wrap the white cloth around his waist, “I know. But you said yourself that you have a month. At least for a week of that month, you need to rest and recover.” 
Your fiancé seemed unsettled at the thought of a whole week of rest; a week of letting his guard down. It was almost unheard of for him. He knew from experience that as soon as he let himself relax, something unexpected would happen. But maybe you were right. Maybe a week of rest is what he needed.
You secured the wrap tightly, and mumbled out how you were all done. Jeno just stared at you while you cleaned up, soaking up the face he hadn’t gotten a chance to study for the past month. He felt incredibly guilty for how often he had been gone, and even more so for how often he had let you see him like this. He knew you hated it, but you never complained. He didn’t deserve you.
“I love you.” He spoke suddenly, interrupting the cold silence of the room. You shut the metal drawer slowly, back still turned to him as you let a small smile grow on your face. You hadn’t heard those words from him in a while. You turned back to sit down next to him again, your eyes staring into his.
“Won’t you say it back?” He whispered, reaching for your hand; your left hand, the one that adorned that diamond ring he had given you months prior. You let him pull you closer as his right hand enclosed over your left. His fingers felt a bit rough, but they were warm and comfortable. With his left hand on the back of your neck, he gently guided you forward until his lips closed over yours.
You could just barely taste the metallicness of blood from the slight cut to his bottom lip. But you didn’t focus on it, too absorbed in the gentleness of his kiss and how perfectly his lips felt against yours even after years had passed. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he caught his breath. 
You pecked his lips again, “I love you too. Always.”
He visibly relaxed at your words and dropped his head to your shoulder. You sighed, threading your fingers through the hair at the bottom of his neck, holding him closely. He shuddered quietly, and you frowned.
“Cold?” Your hand ran up and down his back slowly, feeling goosebumps rise from the chill. You traced one of the many scars that marked him, stopping at the dip of his scapula and muscle. You reached behind your back, feeling around along the mattress for a blanket. You caught hold of it and gently draped it around Jeno. 
You smiled fondly at the way he nestled his head a little closer to the crook of your neck. From his breath, you figured he was already almost asleep. You didn’t want to disturb his sleep, but you knew the position would quickly get uncomfortable, so you shifted his head down to your chest and laid back until you hit the mattress. He didn’t protest at all, but shifted into a comfortable spot in his half-asleep state. With his head on your chest, his arm around your waist, and his legs tangled with yours, you found the new position to be much more promising for getting good sleep.
You pressed a kiss to his forehead and made sure the blanket covered his body before you closed your eyes as well.
↳ nct dream taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,,
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stsgluver · 5 months
Text
𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟒 — gojo satoru
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synopsis. nobara can’t find the dvd anywhere and gojo has a decision to make
wc. 4k
tags. fluff, angst (kinda), reader is described as fem, possibly ooc gojo (my bad), cliffhanger-ish, any spelling mistakes blame on my cats, possible plotholes
a/n. several things to address: firstly my description of dvds and how they work ARE SO FLAWED IK DON'T JUDGE. secondly, look I get how rct works so not everything I say is accurate but like this is also about 2d men so who's to judge. finally I'm not too sure about this chapter so if its shit lmk BUT I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE IT THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT <333 ily all but I do have upcoming exams so the ending(s), won't be posted till possibly early February as I have to get back to studying :(
previous part / final part / series masterlist
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“guys we’ve lost it.” nobara pushed up her mattress, phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder as she peered beneath the wooden slats. all there was was her suitcase and a bag from an expensive shop she’d convinced gojo to buy for her. “it’s gone. poof. here once and now it’s not.” the ‘it’ in question being the dvd they’d treasured for the last few weeks (well, yuuji and nobara anyways).
after gojo had taken the dvd – unbeknownst to the first years – nobara had ended up sleeping for the next fourty eight hours, and then afterwards spending several days catching up on the classwork she’d missed. she hadn’t had the time or energy to force her classmates into another movie night so now here they were, almost a week since it was last touched, finally realising its disappearance.
“do you want me and megumi to come help?” yuuji asked tentatively as he heard her curse as she dropped the mattress back down. nobara sighed, glancing around at the chaos she’d created. her room was a mess – drawers half open and half her clothes and books on the floor in case the dvd had slipped into a pile by accident. 
“it’s not in my room,” she said adamantly, pushing her hair back from her face in frustration as she struggled to piece together the final moments she had with the dvd. she could remember sending megumi away, beginning her little day of research and even some of the videos she watched (the arcade and the christmas reunion), but then she fell asleep and everything was hazy from there.
“when was the last time you had it?” megumi asked and nobara felt her eye twitch like she hadn't retraced her steps a million times already.
“the first day i was off sick. i was watching a few–”
“without us?” the pink haired sorcerer cut in with a gasp.
“what else was there to do?” nobara argued back with no bite but he quietened down nonetheless. 
a moment of silence settled between the three as each tried to figure out where it could have been misplaced or who could’ve accidentally picked it up. if nobara had dropped it somewhere outside of her dorm, could one of the older years taken it?
nobara was brought out of deep thought by yuuji flippantly asking: “did you watch any after sensei came to see you?” she froze at the implication of his words. at no point could she recall their teacher ever coming in to check on her – it had always been either yuuji, megumi or maki. 
“what?” 
several hours later, the three first years found themselves huddled on the benches, nobara in the middle and the boys either side of her. in front of them were the second years and gojo – the latter having said something to annoy maki as yuuta held her back from making a swing at their laughing teacher. the second year teacher was off ill today so the larger class meant that the three had a distraction as they tried to figure out what their next step was – if they even had one at this point.
the assumed facts were as such: the first years were no longer in possession of the dvd, and gojo had it. though there was little doubt that this was true, it didn’t stop them questioning the possibility – after all, megumi had pointed out, there’d been no alter in his behaviour whatsoever since the minute he’d checked on nobara. surely, even the strongest would be noticeably affected by a disk that immortalised a happiness and innocence he’d never be able to return to.
but then again, maybe this was just another thing that separated gojo from the rest of society. being the strongest came before all else, he didn’t have the time to mourn resurfaced memories.
“maybe he just doesn’t have it,” yuuji suggested.
“he has to,” nobara reaffirmed. at this point they’d exhausted all other options about where it could possibly be and surely they would have heard if one of the older years found what they had. “would he tell you if he had it?” she asked megumi.
“no,” megumi said quickly, shaking his head and leaning back on the bench as he looked over at gojo, “we… he wouldn’t talk to me about that. about them.”
“could we steal it back?” yuuji offered and nobara debated duct taping his mouth closed.
megumi scoffed, shaking his head, “he has six eyes. even if we tried, he’d know for sure it was us.”
“he already knows it was us,” nobara countered, not that she agreed with yuuji’s solution by any means. “which is why i don’t get why he hasn’t said anyth–”
“oi, you three!” the first years jumped apart from their circle, hearts pounding as gojo appeared before them with a smirk toying at the corner of his lips and his hands clasped behind his back. “whoever beats maki in hand to hand combat gets the day off tomorrow!”
“yuuji if you win, i’m taking your day off,” nobara called out as she trailed behind the aforementioned boy running to the centre of the field. 
“okay!”
unsurprisingly, all three first years lost against the second year. megumi came closest to winning but when he tried to use his cursed technique, gojo countered it, catching him off guard and giving maki the opportunity to sweep him off his feet with her staff.
gojo found himself still laughing over megumi’s shocked expression as he fell flat on his back as he stepped past the threshold of his office. even after all he’d taught the boy in combat, with no cursed technique it was hard to overcome the zenin girl’s strength and skill she’d mastered to take on her own clan.
he let out a small sigh as the door locked shut and, for the first time that day, he was alone with his own thoughts.
dropping down into his office chair, gojo crossed one leg over the other as he pulled open a drawer. on the top of a pile of unread paperwork for the higher ups was the dvd the first years were so fixated on. 
he wasn’t stupid; he knew eventually they would figure out he had it and, unlike himself, they’d been way less subtle once they’d put two and two together. yuuji’s speech had tripled in speed, nobara was way too keen on being anywhere but where he was and megumi… gojo couldn’t forget the guilt and hurt in the teenage boy’s eyes after telling him you were gone. it was here again, had been for several weeks, and it was only after stumbling upon the disk in nobara’s room that he’d understood why.
gojo gritted his teeth together as he held the disk up between shaky fingers. it was pathetic, he scolded himself, it was just a bit of plastic with memories lasered into divots in a never ending spiral. it wasn’t worth the heartache.
if he looked closely enough, he could see shoko’s name written on the centrepiece in faded black sharpie. after gojo had stumbled upon the old camera several years after graduating from jujutsu high, shoko had taken back the camera to transfer all of the old clips onto dvds and given him, herself, nanami and you your own copies. he couldn’t even remember where his and yours were anymore, in fact he’d pretty much forgotten about their existence until a week ago.
he wasn’t sure where shoko had lost the dvd for the first years to get their hands on it but he hadn’t worked up the courage to speak to her about it. he hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything more than just spin the disk between his fingers, cry about it for a bit, and go back to pretending he didn’t have the last remnants of his youth in his drawer.
gojo glanced between the disk and the laptop on his desk. it was the last step he needed to take to hear your voice again. it had been on repeat for the last week in his mind; you uttering his name and that innocent question, would you last beyond your teenage years?
he missed it, missed you so bad.
raising megumi was a lot harder without you there; you were his favourite after all, bridging the gap between the two when they bumped heads with their contrasting personalities. gojo was all rainbows and giggles and megumi was everything but. you were a happy medium, creating a balance that maintained order in the home you shared. it was a peace that megumi deserved after losing his parents.
gojo clicked his tongue, reaching across to press a button that opened up a space for the disk. slotting it in place, he clicked the device shut and held his breath as he waited. it took several seconds for the files to load and then there he was again, back in those fields under the large weeping willow that was your spot.
the video was paused, exactly where it had been left, except this time gojo could actually see the screen.
your face wasn’t in it, just his. his glasses were off – balanced on your head if he remembered correctly – as he used your lap as a pillow. one of your hands was holding the camera while the other was held over his eyes to block any sort of light. the only thing he could make out was your cursed energy.
you were nearing the end of your first year and whilst gojo was growing more powerful, he was also growing more and more reliant on his glasses to stop himself from becoming so overwhelmed with the constant information he received with his six eyes. he’d overworked himself that day, as he so often did, hence why you’d dragged him away from the school to the seclusion of the tree. 
your questions about the longevity of your relationship weren’t meant to hold deep meaning, you just wanted to take his mind off of the headaches. gojo would choose thinking about you over the searing pain in the back of his head any day. yaga said that once he had a better understanding of his reversed curse technique it wouldn’t be so bad but until then it was just about riding it out.
gojo snorted at the notion. his reversed curse technique only marginally helped. you were what got him through the days when he’d lock himself in his bedroom with blackout blinds pulled down, hiding under his covers till he felt like he could function in society again.
he didn’t unpause the video, however, instead clicking onto the main tab with all of the files stored. 
lifting up his blindfold and dropping it down onto the desk, gojo took a deep breath before he began scrolling. unlike when the first years were simply searching for the ones with their favourite thumbnail, gojo was specifically searching for the ones he knew focused on you.
he needed to hear your voice again, to play it on repeat until it became so ingrained into his skin he could feel your touch.
gojo halted the cursor over the familiar date of your birthday, clicking on it without a second thought as the video filled the screen. it buffered for a moment, giving him a view of the dorm he’d practically spent three years in (despite yaga’s constant complaints and reminders that dorms were segregated on gender).
in the corner of your room was a stack of plushies that he’d won for you at arcades, and your walls were covered in photobooth photos and polaroids of your group of friends. his personal favourite was the polaroid you had pinned just above your desk. it was the two of you on new years eve sharing your first kiss of the year, sparklers in hand and the faint pink of a firework in the background. on the bottom of the polaroid was haibara’s handwriting as he’d scribbled on the date and a small smiley face.
“happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!” seventeen year old gojo sung in the video, swaying the camera side to side above a pile of duvet and pillows. you were somewhere in the middle, half asleep and trying to push yourself deeper into the comfort of your bed and further from whatever the screeching was in your room.
you’d never been a morning person whereas he, on the other hand, had a reserve of energy that never depleted. it was what made getting up at the crack of dawn on your birthday so much more entertaining for him. even as an adult, when the two of you lived together in the comfort of your own apartment, he would either force you to stay up until midnight or gently nudge you awake at 4am to tell you he loved you.
“satoru,” you whispered groggily when you gave up trying to ignore his awful singing, lifting your head up just enough to meet his eyes. he would have done anything to see you physically before him instead of watching you through the lens of a camera. to be looked at with love as you did and not a mix of fear and respect. “if yaga catches you–”
“i’m just singing happy birthday to my girl,” his younger self dismissed, plopping down onto the bed next to you. he preferred your bed over his, a softer mattress he used to argue when shoko would complain about him showing up at your shared dorm several nights in a row. that particular birthday, he was pretty sure she’d been sent on a training mission over in kyoto. gojo’s hand came into frame as he ran a gentle hand through your hair, giving it a little pat when you quietly hummed at the contact. “he can’t hate on me for that.”
“yes he can,” you retorted, rolling your eyes with a tired smile. gojo felt his chest tighten – two years without waking up by that very same smile after almost a decade of having it everyday.
“i’ll blame shoko,” gojo shrugged with a grin, kicking his legs up onto your bed, despite your small protest that he was taking up all of your space. like you weren’t just as clingy as he was.
you huffed out a quiet laugh, your elbow digging into your pillow as you rested your head in your hand to stare incredulously at your boyfriend. “shoko forced the strongest sorcerer of the modern day to enter the girls’ dorms? uh huh.”
“woah woah, i’m the strongest of all time baby, i don’t do second best,” he corrected, leaning down to give you a peck on the forehead. you scrunched your nose up at the contact, but even through the viewpoint of the camera, he can see how your eyes dropped down to his lips.
“i know you don’t,” you smiled and gojo dropped the camera down as he moved to give you your first real kiss of seventeen. present day gojo sucked in a breath, willing for himself to get through at least one several minute video of you until he started crying.
the kiss ended all too quickly as gojo shoved the camera back into your face, the flash causing you to squint and squeeze your eyes closed. “now smile and say cheese, you’re seventeen!”
“woo!” you cheered half heartedly, giving in to his infectious excitement. blowing the camera a tired kiss, you shuffled yourself back deep beneath your duvet. “now can i go back to sleep?”
“as long as i can stay.”
“fine,” you dragged out, though you both knew you wanted him to just as much. yaga be damned. the video ended several seconds later and an odd silence filled his office. 
he’d only ever watched several of these videos once or twice – back when he still had you to curl up into his side and reminisce with him and laugh at nanami’s old haircut. if he was being honest, he didn’t even remember he’d recorded that (though he was glad he did).
gojo was more confident this time when he scrolled, his hands no longer shaking as much as they had been as he smiled at the life he once had. a life with you and geto.
this time he stopped at a thumbnail with the three of you; gojo holding up the camera high as the three of you posed like it was a photo. it was at one of only a handful clan events you had attended together, with both you and geto as gojo’s plus ones. he and geto were in matching suits and you were in a floor length dress that he’d spent way too much money on (but you looked so pretty when you tried it on he couldn’t not get it for you).
“hi this is mtv,” you clapped your hands together, “and welcome to my crib.” his younger self waved his hands around in the background (geto was recording), showing off the spiralling architecture that cost more money than fathomable. 
gojo quietly laughed in his office. the politics of clans and these events were the last reason he’d ever chosen to attend them. seeing you all dressed up and running around buildings with a million rooms were right at the top. his favourite had to be when both the first years, shoko and utahime had also been in attendance, but after haibara’s death, hanging around with the clans that upheld the institution that killed their friend seemed distasteful.
“this is my in house art museum collection.” you led geto along one of the vast corridors, pointing into a room with dozens of framed canvases of art from all across the globe. “this is where i come in for inspiration and to truly just feel art you know?”
“i wasn’t aware you had skills beyond stickmen,” geto interjected and you raised both your middle fingers at him.
“art is subjective, di–”
“woah, i have standards to uphold here,” gojo cupped a hand over your mouth, stopping any expletive leaving you. you hummed in annoyance and the white haired sorcerer grinned, nodding his head over to a partially opened door. “we don’t need to argue when we have a whole cinema room to ourselves.” gojo remembered the stain of red lipstick you’d left on his hand when he let you go (you’d refused to kiss him all evening because of your makeup).
the cinema room was massive: rows and rows of sleek leather seats that looked out of place when compared to the aesthetic of the building. this was someone’s home, though it looked like anything but.
“this is my cinema room,” geto held onto the back of one of the chairs as he loosened his tie. he lowered his voice as he leant closer to the camera gojo was now holding. “we used to have two but daddy converted the smaller one into a sauna so now we only have this one,” he said with an upturned nose, and you could be heard giggling in the background at his faux disgust.
you nor geto were from the same wealthy background as gojo was and loved to poke fun at his high status background.
“oi!” an official that was supposed to be watching for any curses or curse users that tried to sneak into the event pointed a light into the cinema room. “you kids shouldn’t be back here!”
gojo laughed, throwing the camera to geto as he grabbed your hand and led you quickly down the stairs to another exit at the bottom of the stairs. geto turned off the recording once he’d grabbed a hold of the device in favour of focusing on not being caught. it wasn’t like there would be any real consequence – they were with gojo satoru after all.
the white hair sorcerer smiled as he thought back to the rest of the night. obviously, you’d all managed to get away – though he had suffered your wrath at the fact your legs weren’t as long as their’s were and you were running in heels. two strikes, but he’d made it up to you by taking you out for ice cream instead of going back to hear the speeches.
it wasn’t an exaggeration to say gojo would have done anything for you then. 
gojo swallowed a lump in his throat as your last interaction came to mind. you were arguing, as you had been in the weeks up until megumi’s birthday as he inched closer and closer to being old enough to enrol in jujutsu high.
the only wish he’d ever refused to fulfil: keeping megumi away from jujutsu.
“he’s our responsibility.” you were yelling at him, desperate for him to understand your point of view and he was walking away. dodging your anger by going wherever his legs took him – anywhere but where you were. “we need to protect him. we can’t protect him if he becomes a sorcerer too.” 
“i can,” he insisted, halting in his place to turn and look down at you. his cursed technique was activated, though there was no need for it to be, and all it did was frustrate you further.
“i nearly died today!” you countered, pointing to your neck with a faint scar. shoko’s reversed cursed technique was almost perfect, but not even that could fully erase the deep lacerations that had almost taken your life. “where were you? you can’t be everywhere and help everyone at the same time. it’s just not possible.”
“i can try.” his jaw was tight as he responded through gritted teeth.
“and if that’s not enough?” you didn’t need to see his eyes to know his were locked directly onto yours, daring you to continue. he wouldn’t hurt you, would never dream of it, angry or not, but how could you of all people doubt him? “what then gojo satoru?” you uttered his full name like it was an insult, “you may be the strongest but he’s not. i’m not. we’re mortals compared to you.”
“you’re my family,” his voice broke.
“yu and suguru were family once too.”
gojo clenched his fists at the memory, at the reminder he walked out after that. you were trying to get him to see your concerns, and he’d taken that as you blaming him for the outcome of your close friends. that was the last time he ever saw you; tears welling up in the corner of your eyes at his insensitivity, at his inability to admit that maybe, just maybe, he too was just a mortal. 
everything you said was logical and made sense – he had almost lost you that day, having not initially received the message that you had needed backup as he was preoccupied with his own mission. by the time he had arrived, the curse had its claws dug deep into your skin and it had taken everything in him not to use hollow purple and bring the entire infrastructure down in seconds.
despite all he’d done to save you that day, he’d still lost you. he’d only delayed the seemingly inevitable by mere hours.
megumi sat up in bed at the sound of two knocks on the door. he highly doubted it would be yuuji since the pink haired sorcerer had only left several minutes prior, saying something about needing to meet panda. 
to his surprise, gojo stood before him, hands in the pockets of his pants as he half smiled at the younger boy. 
“is itadori here?” megumi hesitated before shaking his head. “good,” gojo held up the missing dvd, “we need to talk.”
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stevieschrodinger · 1 year
Text
Eddie goes zero to sixty when he wakes up. He expects to be dead, so the strong smell of disinfectant and boiled hospital food comes as a shock that, at first, he doesn’t believe.
But then the irregular bleating of the heart monitor next to him starts to sink in, the beeps sounding way too fucking fast and that stresses Eddie out even more. He tries to escape out of the bed, gets tangled in tubes and wires, agony burning up his side and through his stomach, practically falls out of the bed when his own legs won’t hold him.
The floor is rock solid and stone cold, and that just ratchets Eddie’s panic further, because now he’s stuck and he can’t escape and there are people – people he doesn't know – touching him, all talking all over each other and it’s so much, too much to handle, the overload -
“Holy shit kid,” a voice Eddie would recognize anywhere, mostly because he’s been warned by that voice so many times about getting caught dealing and carrying and, “Jesus, give him some room a second.”
“I thought you were dead,” Eddie rasps out, voice totally fucked.
“Yeah, well, thought the same about you kid,” Hopper answers, stoic and honest as always.
“I can’t stay here,” Eddie finds his hands twisted up in the material of Hoppers jacket.
Hopper nods, knowingly, “back into bed, give me half an hour.”
Eddie agrees, holds onto that, because the lights are too bright and the noises are all so fucking loud and even the sound of his own breathing is annoying.
“Kid,” Hopper raps on the door frame, and every fucking pair of eyes in the room swivels to him because literally everyone rammed into Max’s room is a kid to Hopper. He narrows it down a bit, looking at Steve, “Munson’s awake.”
Half the people in the room shoot up, Dustin’s fastest despite his fucked up ankle, so Hopper sticks an arm out, wraps him up, stops him even though the kid is screeching and wriggling in his hold, “just Steve, the rest of you stay here.”
There’s a roomful of complaints, but something in Hoppers tone must relay the urgency, because they do obey in the end.
“So, he needs somewhere to go.”
Hopper nods down at Steve, “Owen’s can wrangle it, but it’s got to be somewhere known, somewhere that has the space, somewhere...private.”
Steve gets what Hopper’s laying down, his place is the only place that makes any sense, “yeah, of course.”
Because there’s no question.
Eddie limps across the threshold, most of his weight supported on Steve’s shoulders. They take one look at the mountain of stairs and divert straight to the couch. Steve can see that Eddie’s in pain, that he’s restless, that he can’t settle, “what can I do?”
“Nothing. Nothing. Feel like there’s...fire ants or something, crawling all over, under my skin.”
Steve tuts. Not having a suggestion for that. Eddie’s face contorts again and he’s sweating. The nurse was very fucking clear about the pain meds, and Eddie can’t have any more for another couple of hours at the earliest. Steve doesn’t state that out loud; he’s pretty sure Eddie doesn’t need reminding.
He comes back with a cool sodden towel, feeling helpless, but the second it hits Eddie’s skin Eddie practically screeches and they know that isn’t the answer, so Steve throws it in the laundry.
“I don’t know what to say man, shower? Like, a hot one?”
“Dressings,” Eddie bites back, white knuckled and almost writhing now on the couch.
“Maybe...we should take you back, maybe they can-”
“No. Fuck no,” Eddie’s words bitten out, panicked.
“Okay okay,” Steve surrenders, palms up flat, “what then?”
Eddie’s eyes flick over the back of the couch, he can’t see the stairs from there, there’s a wall in the way, but his expression looks pained just at the thought, “I’ll try anything once.” He tries to make a joke of it, tries to make out that he’s okay, but he’s clearly in fucking agony and Steve has no idea what to do for him so he agrees readily.
Making it up the stairs takes them fully half an hour, Eddie having to wait, panting, on every single step. Steve’s never felt so helpless in his life (excluding that one time Max floated in the cemetery), it’s torture watching Eddie suffer, watching him try and keep in all the pained noises, only to fail miserably.
He manages a half hearted joke about King Steve giving him a sponge bath when they make it to the turn near the top, the wider step on the corner giving Eddie somewhere safe and secure to lean.
Steve doesn’t laugh, “how are you feeling now?”
Eddie swallows, throat clicking dry, “it’s worse. It’s like there’s...like something's under there, moving around,” Eddie draws in a hissed breath, face crumpling, “hurts. So fucking much.”
Steve doesn’t even know what to say to that, so they get moving, and those final four steps are worse than all the others combined. They shuffle through Steve’s bedroom and into the bathroom, and when Steve clicks on the light Eddie makes an agonized noise and Steve clicks it off again immediately.
“S’bright,” Eddie mutters, squinting at the floor, greasy, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. He looks ill. Washed out. No, gray. He looks like he’s gone gray in the dim light coming through the small bathroom window.
“Okay, okay, no problem,” so Steve turns to get the water going, trying to figure out how the fuck they’re going to do this considering Eddie looks exhausted and half dead already. He hears Eddie make a noise, there's a soft thump, and Steve turns back, concerned.
Eddie’s gone.
He’s just...gone.
His clothes are in a heap on the floor, bloody dressings mixed in, and Steve yells, hopping backward and nearly dragging down the shower curtain, when the pile shifts. Wings emerge. Tails.
Steve recognizes it instantly. It’s a fucking demobat.
“Fuck. Fuck fuck,” Steve backs away, edges his way through the door, thinking of the nail bat in the boot of his car. He usually brings it everywhere with him, when he can, but he was too concerned with getting Eddie into the house to think of it.
He doesn’t take his eyes off the thing as it flops around, trapped in Eddie’s clothes. Steve darts the rest of the way, scouring his room for a weapon and giving up fast; the kitchen, a knife; that would be easiest.
Steve runs for it, closing his bedroom door tight so the thing can’t escape. He runs down the stairs, grabs the biggest knife in the block and then takes the stairs two at a time on the way back up.
Steve opens his bedroom door cautiously, point of the knife sliding through the gap, just in case the thing is flapping around in his bedroom. It’s not, it appears safe.
But Steve knows the danger, he was nearly killed by just one of those things so he isn’t taking any chances. Steve waits a second with the door open...he realizes he can hear it. It’s not making the horrible high pitched screech that he’s used to, it sounds more like...well, it sounds like a whimper. It actually sounds kind of pathetic.
Steve creeps closer, only to find the demobat hopelessly tangled in Eddie’s clothes, it’s struggling only making it worse. Steve stands for a moment, staring. Eddie’s gone...and now that little creature is in Eddie’s clothes.
Eddie. Shit, Steve has a terrible feeling about this, “Eddie?”
Steve creeps a little closer, still pointing with the knife, “Eddie, man, if that’s you, you’ve got to give me something here,” Steve begs desperately. There’s still no response, “oh fuck me, I’m loosing my godamn mind.”
Steve kneels, moving a little closer, “Eddie?”
The Demobat’s strange, worm like head appears from under Eddie’s shirt and sort of...mewls. It’s pathetic, really. The open, rounded mouth in filled with rows of tiny, razor sharp teeth. It’s got four eyes, two above the mouth, and two more set behind that, and they all blink in turn, strange slits opening and closing slowly.
It makes another little noise. “Okay. Okay, lets, try...oh man I am so dumb. Dustin’s never going to let me live this down,” Steve slowly offers the back of his hand to the thing, reasoning that if it bites him, the wound won’t be too debilitating than if he looses a finger or something equally terrible. He waits, watching, poised to drag his hand back at the first sign of danger. He doesn’t need too though, because the demobat potentially formerly known as Eddie, snakes out a too long, thin black tongue, and licks a sticky smear on the back of Steve’s hand.
And that’s all. It sits still, staring up at Steve will all four of it’s beady black eyes, watching expectantly.
“Okay. Okay. I’m going to trust you. But if you bite me I swear to…” Steve mutters to himself as he carefully untangles the bat from the pile of clothing, it’s tails and wings well and truly wrapped up with the material.
It’s not awful. It feels kind of cold, but the skin isn’t like, moist, or anything, it’s very dry and kind of scaly. The wings are more leathery, and the tail is...well, it kind of feels weirdly hollow.
“Okay, I got you Munson. God that’s so weird,” Eddie’s body snakes up Steve’s arm a little way, wings flapping clumsily as he tries to right himself. Steve has to fight his instinct to throw the thing off, the last time a demobat was this close to him it nearly strangled him to death.
Despite climbing all over Steve, Eddie wraps his tail around his arms and chest...but not his neck. Not even close. Kind of like, even in this form, he knows.
Eddie ends up hooking the ‘elbows’ of his wings into Steve’s shirt and just...huddling there. Not doing anything, tail wrapped firmly around Steve’s arm, one wing against Steve’s chest and the other against his back, hugging Steve’s shoulder.
Steve stares at himself, and Eddie, in the mirror, “well, fuck.”
With no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do now, Steve heads to bed. It’s been a bit of a day, and whatever the hell this is can wait until tomorrow. He crawls into bed, carefully lying down. Eddie seems to get it, movements still slow and very clumsy, he shifts completely onto Steve’s chest, sort of walking on the joints of his wings, curling up.
Steve lies there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, “I guess this is...maybe not the weirdest thing to happen?”
Eddie makes a soft trilling noise.
Fuck.
Steve wakes up slowly, very aware of the warm weight on top of him. He blinks, vision filled with a mop of brown curls. Eddie.
Steve is hugging Eddie. Eddie is mostly on top of him. Eddie is very naked under Steve’s hands and his very obvious erection is digging into Steve’s thigh and, “Eddie, you’re people again!”
Eddie lifts his head, squinting, opens his mouth and says, “mrrrrp?”
It’s eerily reminiscent of the noise he’d made last night, as a demobat.
“You’re a dude again, dude.”
Eddie blinks. It seems to take a long time to process before he finally, finally croaks out, “coffee.”
Steve wholeheartedly agrees.
Steve slips out of bed, Eddie either isn’t acknowledging or hasn't noticed his boner situation, so Steve figures there's some sort of bro code here and just ignores it too.
While coffee is brewing, Steve figures his only possible course of action is to call the smartest person he knows. He will never admit that out loud, but luckily Henderson answers on the second ring, like he’s been waiting for Steve to call him.
“Dustin-”
“Can I come see Eddie yet?”
Steve sighs, “I’m great, thanks for asking, so cool of-”
“Steve.”
“Yeah. Yes, come over.”
The little shit doesn’t even say goodbye. He just hangs up.
Steve takes a coffee up to Eddie, who is buck naked and sprawled ass up over Steve’s bed, “okay, Eddie come on, Dustin’s on the way.”
Eddie groans, crawling out of bed, Steve heads over to his wardrobe to dig out something for Eddie to wear so he isn’t obviously staring at all of Eddie’s nakedness. There’s a thump and a, “shit,” that has Steve spinning back around, Eddie sat on his ass on the floor, looking confused.
“You okay?”
“Legs. Apparently you can forget legs really fast.”
It hadn’t occurred to Steve when he woke up, but it does now. All of Eddie is pristine; there’s not a wound, mark, scar bruise, anything on him anywhere. Steve has to step closer, kneeling in front of Eddie to prod his chest, Eddie swats at him, “you’re all healed up.”
Eddie stops swatting at Steve and prods himself instead, “holy shit. I am.”
“Well...that’s a positive, right?”
Eddie hums, and Steve goes back to digging him out a sweater and some sleep pants and boxers. That’ll do for today. Eddie’s a little wobbly when he stands, so Steve hovers in grabbing distance, but Eddie gets dressed without incident.
Steve offers him the coffee from the nightstand, now cool enough to drink. Eddie takes an enthusiastic mouthful and Steve watches as Eddie’s face goes through a series of...something, his mouth obviously full of coffee. His face is definitely doing something. And then Eddie just opens his mouth, “bleaugh,” letting the coffee just...run back into the mug.
And then he hands it back. To Steve. Who takes it reflexively, “I’ll just...I’ll go and get rid of this.”
“Where is he?”
“Okay, okay, firstly, I need you to not freak out.”
“Steve,” Dustin stares at him, “saying that is guaranteed to make anyone freak out.”
“Yep,” Steve agrees, “I mean it though, Eddie is absolutely fine, I swear it.”
“But. There’s a but isn’t there, Steve why is there always a but with-”
“He turned into a demobat last night. Like just, was a bat. And I didn’t know what to do, so we went to sleep, and then this morning he was Eddie again.”
Dustin’s face is a process, before he finally settles on, “are you sure?”
Steve rolls his eyes, “yes, yes, I’m sure. He was Eddie, then bat, the Eddie again. It wasn't complicated, just fucking weird.”
“Right...so where is he?”
Steve opens his bedroom door to find...absolute carnage. His bed has moved, the mattress is off the frame, there’s blankets and pillows strewn everywhere, feathers swirling in the air.
“Eddie?”
Eddie pops up on the other side of the bed, shirtless and frantic looking, “I didn’t, I didn’t do anything, it just, it just...it just exploded.”
Steve stares, the feathers settling. Eddie’s actually naked again and appears to be building some sort of fort on the floor of Steve’s bedroom, Steve blinks, “the pillow doesn’t matter Eddie.”
Eddie nods decisively, “good.” Then, after a moments thought, “do you have more?” And then he’s back on his hands and knees rearranging his fort, like a feral racoon or something.
“Dustin’s here, do you want to maybe come and talk to him?”
“It’s the scientific method Steve!”
“We are not throwing anyone off a roof, anywhere, any time, ever.”
They both turn back to Eddie, watching as he eats another spoon of raspberry jelly straight out of the jar.
“You got any ketchup?” Dustin asks, going back to food again.
“That won’t prove either theory, ketchup is red and sweet.”
Dustin turns to him, “Steve, that is possibly the most intelligent thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Steve’s ready to slap the little shit at this point, but Dustin’s face is earnest. Apparently Dustin actually means what he just said. Like, sincerely.
So Steve lets it go, and Dustin suggests, “we need something sweet but not red, and something red but not sweet.”
“We should go to the store,” Steve adds, then stares at Eddie for a minute longer; he’s basically fucking the neck of the jar with his tongue, “I’ll call Nancy to go to the store for us,” Steve adjusts.
Dustin nods, turning the page of his notebook.
Nancy drops grocery bags on the counter while Robin hops up next to her, “so, I thought we could make red jello and add a bunch of salt or something, I got some soup for him to try, some more jelly just in case, and some more ketchup since you said he really likes that. Two tubs of salsa…”
Steve rummages in the bag next to her, when Eddie pops up next to him, Steve hadn’t even heard him come into the kitchen. Eddie wedges himself right in there, pushing Steve back with a hand and then...hisses. Hisses at Nancy. Like, makes a hissing noise and bears his teeth. Steve just moves, lets Eddie push him back, while Nancy watches, wide eyes and surprised.
She takes a few Steps back herself, closer to Robin, and tries a tentative, “Eddie?”
He just hisses again, before snapping, “mine!” at her.
And then he disappears, there’s a light thump on the kitchen floor. Everyone watches as bat Eddie extricates himself from his clothes, movements much better this time around. He half climbs and half flaps his way up Steve’s body, until he gets to around waist height and Steve grabs at the thickest part of Eddie’s body to help him out. Eddie climbs the rest of the way, draping himself around the back of Steve’s neck, tail wrapped under one armpit, Eddie standing on his wing joints on the opposite shoulder. He hisses at Nancy again.
“Holy shit,” Nancy says.
Dustin is frantically scribbling in his notebook.
Robin, once she’d got over the shock of Eddie’s transformation, laughed and laughed and laughed. Even Nancy was smirking at them. The way Steve was absently stroking over Eddie to keep him mollified, and that Nancy couldn’t come within ten feet of them without Eddie getting all riled up again.
“So, you and Eddie huh.”
Steve just rolls his eyes.
“He’s feeling plenty threatened by Nance,” Dustin adds, really, really, unhelpfully.
“Probably because they were a thing,” Robin speculates.
“So you and Eddie are like, dating?” Dustin asks, and whatever Steve’s face does makes Robin laugh and laugh and laugh again.
Eddie actually manages a graceful glide off Steve’s shoulder and onto the nest/fort/thing Eddie had constructed earlier. Steve was going to try and tidy it before bed...but from the way Eddie is wing walking across it, pathetically dragging the edge of a pillow in his tiny mouth, Steve guesses that he’s not.
It’s also been a bit of a day, and he can’t really be bothered.
He climbs into bed, Eddie flapping out of the way and then climbing his way carefully up onto Steve’s chest.
This is my life now, Steve thinks, as he stares at the ceiling.
And then gets winded, when the very small demobat lying on his chest is suddenly a full sized man again. Eddie nearly headbutts Steve in the chin and Steve rolls over to dump him off, panicked and with the breath knocked out of him. Eddie makes a pathetic and somehow accusatory trilling noise, like this turn of events is all Steve’s fault, before he rolls over and flops over Steve again.
Apparently, cuddling is a thing they do.
Eddie makes a noise like a purr when Steve rubs his hand up and down the naked skin of Eddie’s back.
So, yeah, this is Steve’s life now.
There is more of this series on AO3 - Stevieschrodinger
2K notes · View notes
joostsblog · 10 days
Note
Hii!! Can you write a Joost x Reader where reader goes with him on tour, but they made a mistake with the hotel rooms and reader has to share a room / bed with Joost? 👀
here you goooooooo
to be desired ~ joost klein friends to lovers one shot
My masterlist here ✨💌
Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader
Description: A hotel room mix-up not only forces you to share a bed with your friend Joost but also some feelings you had tried to hide away for too long.
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: I hope you like it, if you do pls show your support by reblogging ❣️❣️ send in requests i'm having fun with this! 💌
Warnings: not proofread
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"Alright, I'm gonna head out early tonight," you let Adam know. You were backstage at one of Joost's shows, only the last few songs were yet to be performed.
"Already?" Adam asked as he looked up from whatever he was working on.
"Yeah, can you let Joost know later?" you asked although you had already told your friend earlier tonight that you probably wouldn't last long tonight.
"Will do. Keycard's on the desk," he informed you, pointing to the desk by the door where you were standing. Adam was Joost's tour manager and one of his duties taking care of everyone's accommodation which usually included him checking in for everyone and distributing the hotel key cards backstage. You snatched the keycard and waved goodbye to Adam as you headed out.
During the short walk to the hotel you looked around the streets of this city you had never been in before. You were so grateful that Joost had suggested you join him for tour three months ago. The offer came about after you had spent an evening smoking on Joost's balcony, venting to him about feeling uninspired, directionless and stuck in your routine and environment.
"Like, I just wanna be everywhere all the time and instead I'm just in my flat all day every day," you complained to him and he nodded.
"Why don't you come with me on tour?" he had just asked bluntly and your first instinct was to decline. But then you wondered, why not? What's stopping you? You could do your work remotely from anywhere anyway and you loved to travel. Getting out of your usual environment and routine was exactly what you needed and Joost offered you the solution on a silver platter.
"Alright, why not?" you shrugged. Joost got up from his seat to hug you in excitement.
"My best friend is coming on tour with me," he said and you laughed as you hugged him back. What he didn't know is that you longed to be so much more than his best friend, but you declared that a problem for another day.  
"Oh nice," you said to yourself as you opened the door to your hotel room and noticed it was much nicer than usual. It was definitely more spacious and the bed was a queen-sized one instead of a single. You took the opportunity of the early night to take a long shower in peace and do an extensive skincare routine before you plopped down on the bed in your pyjamas. You got comfortable under the covers and pulled up your phone to watch some TikToks before you slowly dozed off.
You were awoken when you heard a beep coming from the door as it was being unlocked. Your eyes shot wide open as you realise that someone was getting into your hotel room as you saw the door slowly open.
"What the fuck! Get out!" you yelled towards the door and you quickly turned on the lamp on the nightstand.
"I'm so sorry," you heard the person at the door say apologetically as they quickly closed the door again. Before the door fell into the lock the person stopped in their tracks. "(Y/N)?" a familiar voice uncertainly asked.
"Joost?" you asked in confusion. The door slowly opened again to reveal Joost standing in the door frame looking just as dumbfounded as you. "Wha-?" you furrowed your brows.
"You're in my room," Joost laughed.
"No, I think you're in my room," you insisted.
"I don't think so," Joost said and held up his keycard as if it would explain anything.
"Yeah, how do you think I got inside?" you asked.
"Adam messed up," Joost stated and you nodded as you laughed nervously. "I'm gonna call him," Joost said as he pulled out his phone. You looked down at your phone to see that the time was almost 2 am. You were not so sure that Joost would be able to reach Adam at this time and your suspicion was confirmed when Joost turned back to you. "He's not answering," he said and scratched his head. "The reception desk is also closed already."
You rubbed your eyes sleepily as you watched Joost cluelessly stand by the door, his bags in hand. "I'm sorry I woke you up," he said after a pause. "I'll check if I can crash in Stuntje's bed or something."
"Isn't he gonna be asleep already as well?" you asked.
"Probably," Joost shrugged.
"And his room only has a single bed," you stated.
"Probably," Joost confirmed.
"Honestly, if you don't mind, I don't mind," you said gesturing to the empty side of the bed. "It's a big bed."
"If you don't mind snoring," Joost laughed.
"I'll manage," you assured him.
"Alright," Joost said and put down his bags. "I'll be quick," he said as he gestured to the bathroom.
"Take your time," you smiled.
It was only a few minutes before you could feel the mattress dip on the other side of the bed and Joost slipped in beneath the covers.
"I missed you at the end of the show tonight," Joost said. You turned to face him.
"I know, I'm sorry, I was just very tired," you said. There was about a metre between your faces as you lay there comfortably.
"When I invited you to tour I was under the impression that my advantage would be that I would get more of you," Joost joked.
"Haven't you had enough of me?" you asked.
Joost shook his head. "Never."
"Well, tonight you're getting a whole lot of me," you said and immediately blushed when you realised how Joost could take your words in the wrong way. "I mean-" you started but Joost just laughed. "Nevermind," you said trying to play it cool.
"This is fun," Joost said. "It's like a sleepover."
"Oh, I've got some bad memories from a sleepover," you said and Joost furrowed his brows.
"How come?" he asked concerned.
"Well," you let out a breath. "For the longest time, I was never invited to them. And then in 7th grade, I was finally invited to one and when we played spin the bottle the bottle landed on me and my crush at the time which meant that we had to kiss - which would've been my first kiss by the way - but he refused to kiss me," you shrugged trying to play it cool. "Everyone else did and he pretended as if kissing me would be the worst thing in the world," you could feel your throat getting tighter as you recalled the memory and what it made you feel. Joost grabbed your hand in yours to comfort you.
"What an asshole," he said. "Who wouldn't want to kiss you?"
"Well," you shrugged. "I don't know anybody," you joked. "I think that moment fucked me up, like still to today."
"How come?" Joost inquired as he used his thumb to softly stroke the back of your hand.
"I talked about this in therapy but I think that this experience and a few others led me to believe that nobody could ever be seriously interested in me, that there was never anybody that desired me," you explained looking around the room to avoid Joost's gaze who was looking at you as he listened intently. "Like I don't think I've ever had anyone try to pick me up or like flirt with me or something."
"That's not true," Joost said with a frown on his face which you discovered as you looked at him for the first time again. "People have definitely flirted with you."
"Sorry, but how would you know?" you laughed.
"Because I flirted with you when we first met," Joost said and your heart skipped a beat.
"No, you didn't," you said.
"Yes, I did," Joost insisted. "I made Appie introduce me to you because I thought you were cute." Your heart started beating faster at the revelation.
"What? I swear I was oblivious," you said.
"Well, I just assumed you weren't interested in me in that way," Joost shrugged and you kicked your past self for missing such an opportunity.
"So, you're telling me I fumbled the bag with you?" you asked, your heart beating almost out of your chest. Joost nodded grinning. "This-" you gestured between the two of you, "could've been something entirely different?"
"Yes," Joost said and paused. "Still can be," he added timidly. You held onto Joost's hand like a lifeline, squeezing his hand tightly. "I think you need to breathe," Joost reminded you as he noticed you holding your breath. "Are you alright?" he finally asked after your silence persisted.
"I want you to kiss me," you finally dared to say.
Joost softly grabbed your face and moved closer to you. Your hands found the back of Joost's head and his lips crashed into yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Joost was leaning over you, his hand sneaking down to your waist where a sliver of your skin was exposed by your pyjama set. Your lips moved in sync against each other, tasting every bit of the other. Joost softly put your hair behind your ear after you broke the kiss and watched your face fondly.
"Next time you can tell me sooner because I would've done anything you would've told me to," he said and planted a quick peck on your nose.
"Well, I want you to cuddle me," you smiled.
"That can be arranged," Joost said as he spooned you from behind, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. "Maybe we should thank Adam for the mix-up."
367 notes · View notes
xxblairexxss · 11 months
Text
Duty
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x pregnant!reader
Theme : Angst / fluff
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It reached 3.4k before I could even do the climax so I’m just gonna drop this one first or else I’m gonna rush the next part and ended up ruining everything.
Google result! Let’s hope this is accurate. I spent hours on website trying to find this. PROM is a shorten for premature rupture of membranes!
Requested!
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﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
Charles was ecstatically happy to start the new season with the brightest hope because of how he ended the previous one as the second place in the World Driver Championship, even more elated when this was his first time starting the new season as a new father-to-be but it was undeniable that Charles had been struggling since the first race.
He seemed to be developed a new trait as well as upgraded some of his old ones ever since your pregnancy. Your first pregnancy. He had asked you to stop accompanying him to races which resulted to a fight, and you claimed that he didn’t need your support anymore. He eventually gave in but with conditions where you needed to stay by his side all the time or if he was occupied, he would force Joris to stay with you. When you got into your second trimester, he had again, asked you to to stop attending the races but you still wanted to, so he gave in again but only allowed you to attend the qualifying and race day so you started missing his practice day, which caused the media to question about your absence and Charles had to reassure everyone how you had been doing fine, but he had to be stricter on you to avoid any unwanted accidents. When you entered your third trimester, he didn’t allow you to attend any of the races at all and this time, he didn’t give in, no matter what.
Even so, he never allowed you to be left alone. You would either be at his parent’s house, your parents’ house, or he would bring either one to your house.
No matter how much you reassured him.
“Charles, can I just stay here?” Your voice trailed off, already feeling gloomy from what he was gonna say. You were sitting on the bed, looking at your husband going in and out of the room packing his stuffs before his flight in a few hours.
“What was it, baby?” He walked back into the room, placing one of his perfume into the small luggage bag and cocked his brow, waiting for you to repeat what he had missed.
“I don’t want to go to my parents house this weekend.”
He heaved a sigh of defeat and it made you regret for bringing up the topic. “You know I’m doing this for your safety, right? Honey, I won’t be here for a week, that’s long enough. What if something happened?”
“I know but I’m not due for another month.”
He took your hand in his, thumb softly grazing on your knuckles. “You are already 35 weeks. I can’t take the risk of leaving you alone. The doctor told us you need to be careful as they suspected PROM, no?”
“But–“ You jutted your bottom lips, looking away when your husband tilted his head away, eyes squeezing shut when you tried to argue even more.
“But what, honey? Go on, I’m listening.”
“Y/F/N wanted to come over with her little girls this weekend. I just wanted to do a little movie night and bake some cookies with them.” You felt Charles moved his shirts that you were folding in front of you away and skittered closer, seeing how you refused to look at him now.
“Can I see your pretty face?”
He beamed, feeling his heart caught the eternity’s mist as you looked up to him with teary eyes. “My crybaby.” He had realised since you entered your second trimester, your hormones seemed to be ramped up and you had been in a constant mood swings and crying spells, crying at almost everything. He had told his mom, worried about it as he wasn’t sure why. Even after he talked to you a lot about it and she said it was normal, but it sure took him a while to get used to it.
“Charles..” You hit on his arm and he chuckled.
“Alright, alright. Just this one time, okay? Make sure to pick up my call and let me know if it hurts anywhere.”
“I love you!” You exclaimed and threw your arms around his waist, head leaning against his chest.
“I’m serious, Y/N. Let me know if anything happens. Don’t make me regret my decision. Promise?”
“Promise!”
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
Few days passed, Charles got the podium for the second time in a row and you had been eagerly waiting for him to walk through the door. It was a shame you weren’t there to hug him as soon as he hopped off the fast car but he’d made sure you didn’t feel left alone as he called you right after, even mentioned you and his unborn daughter in his interviews.
“Congratulations! Two podiums in a row!” You threw you arms in the air and hopped, stopping when Charles held your waist.
“Careful, love.” He brushed his lips on your forehead, letting it linger against your skin. “I missed you, and you too, little one.” He bended down and stroked on your middle.
“I wanted to bake you muffins last night but I fell asleep because your child won’t stop kicking me.”
He placed his arm around waist, pulling you close as much as he could, another hand on the side of your belly. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. We can bake muffins together now that I’m home?”
“Are you tired?”
He pulled a funny expression and nodded impatiently. “I am worn out, baby. Total knocked out.”
“Can you buy me the matcha ice cream?”
“I bought you three tubs before I left, didn’t I?”
“I–“ You were going to tell him your excuse but ended up sucking your lips into a thin line, pulling away to pinch your husband on his arm. “Don’t look at me like that! I’m gonna cry!”
He winced and recoiled, hand leaving your belly to stroke on his waist where you just pinched. “Ow! What did I do?”
“You looked at me as if it was impossible for someone to finish three tubs of ice cream in one week! See? You are doing it again! I hate you.”
“What do you want me to do?” His mouth widen in disbelief and brought his palm up to cover his eyes. “Is this okay now?”
“Better.” You giggled and went back hugging his waist. You definitely missed hugging him without your belling getting in the way but it won’t be that long now. “Can you still get me the ice cream?”
“Of course, love. I’ll be right back.”
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
Charles has been home for a week and day by day, you could see how he got progressively quite. He didn’t ignore you, didn’t raise his voice at you, he never did. He was still the husband that you wished every woman would have but he had been looking as if he was keeping a lot to himself.
“Charles?” You heard him hummed in response, his face is buried against your neck, his arm draped on your belly as you played with his hair. “Are you okay?”
“Why did you ask?”
“I feel like you are worrying about something. Talk to me, honey. What’s wrong?” He went silenced, his hand left your belly as he pulled away.
“I don’t know, Y/N. I’m just scared? No– worried. No– I’m not sure. Probably both.”
You placed your under your round middle as you turned, scooted facing your husband who looked like he was in a deep dejection. “Was it because of this weekend?”
“Yeah. I just can’t afford to disappoint them again, love.��
“How do you know you were gonna disappoint them?” You placed your hand on his neck, thumb brushing against his stubble. “Hm?”
“I don’t know. I just feel like it? It’s not the first time, honey.”
“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. It’s not even the race day yet but you are already assuming the worst. Give yourself a chance to prove yourself. I know my husband very well and I know he can ace everything thrown in his face.”
His lips turned into an upwards curve as he bended down to kiss your belly, hand patted on the side of it. “Mommy really knows how to cheer daddy up, doesn’t she? How I wish you could come too, baby.”
“We can come! Right, baby?” You replied, your hand strokes on the other side of your middle, voice filled with a hint of hope.
“No. I didn’t actually mean it, honey. It was hypothetical.” He straighten his body, and you saw the frown he always made whenever you told him you wanted to come to any races.
“But I really want to go..”
“You know what my answer will be, don’t you? I’m not gonna change it this time, Y/N.”
“This could be my last time attending your race before she comes. I don’t want to stay in the house. It’s getting boring and I have nothing to do.” You had been waiting for him to look at you as perhaps, there could be a tiny expectation where he would change his mind but he didn’t. “You’ll never understand.” You pulled your hand away, standing up to leave the living room.
“Baby,” He called out and of course, he got ignored. He knew it and wasn’t even expecting for you to reply. “Hear me out first. Y/N–“ You slammed the door and locked it before he could pushed it back. “Okay, locking the door is not it, honey.” He knocked and waited, but he didn’t hear anything. “Y/N, open the door.” Nothing. “Baby, please.” Still nothing. “Open the door or I’m gonna eat your ice cream. I’m serious.”
“You are mean.” He bit his lips, trying to hold his smile when you opened the door a second after, glaring at him with your arms folded.
“Oh? I’m the mean one when you just slammed the door and locked your husband out of the room? Baby, can you at least hear what I was gonna say?”
“I know what you’re gonna say. You don’t have to say it to my face.” You rolled your eyes and walked back to the bed.
“I thought you know how to read my mind. I was gonna ask you to be my date this Sunday but I think I got rejected.” He was going to stand up, pretending to be walking away but you gripped on his arm.
“Oh my god! Really? Can I really go to the race?”
“Last one before our little girl arrives.”
He gave in, yet again.
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You had been feeling cramps ever since the weekend arrived. Your back had been hurting since your third trimester but it hurt even more these days, especially when you laid down. You could barely fall asleep even when you tried to sleep sitting against the headboard so you always woke up feeling all worn out which caused you to lose appetite. Even your head hurt due to the lack of sleep.
Charles had realised you were somewhat different but every time he asked you, you would just brush it off, saying that it was normal for pregnant women to feel like this nearly the end of the pregnancy. He realised you didn’t ask him to buy anything that you craved for which you used to every single day. You had been really quite. You only took a bite out of your meal only when he caught you but every time he asked if you were fine, you would always say yes, telling him to stop worrying. He had been contemplating if he could skip practice day, in any way possible but you got so mad at him for “being silly”.
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You were sitting in front of your dressing table, contemplating about which scent you should go with when your belly went tight, as if going through another cramp and it made you winced in pain. Your body slightly bended towards your middle.
“Honey? Are you done?”
“Y– yeah, I’m almost done.”
“Hey.” Charles peeked his head and strode to where you were sitting, crouching down so he could see your face. “I know I’ve been asking you this for like the million times but are you really fine? You are worrying me, love. You don’t have to come if you are not feeling well.”
“I am fine! I am just excited. I promise.”
His hand went to your round belly and softly rubbed on it. “I saw your face scrunched up earlier. Is she giving you a hard time?”
“She just has been kicking non stop. She’s probably too excited to see his daddy wins the race.” You placed your hand on his and cackled.
“Oh, I’m not sure about that, baby.”
“You can, honey! We’ll be rooting for you!”
“If that’s what my girls wished for then I guess I could make it comes true. P5 to P1 doesn’t sound hard, does it? We need to go. Are you all set?” He stood up straight and pinched on your cheek. “You look beautiful, baby.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile from the compliments. “Liar. Can you help me up?” You stretched out your arms for him to pull you up.
“Ready? 1, 2, 3!” His body was slightly slanted to give you enough space when you stood up. “I’m not lying. My wife is so beautiful I almost mistook her as an angel.”
“Whatever.”
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They were expecting rain to come since it had been raining during both practice and qualifying round but it felt like the sun was just a hand fist away from your head the moment you stepped out of the car. The media had to make it worse since this was your first appearance in the paddock in your last semester where you looked undeniably pregnant now. They had to block your way when you just wanted to sit down as fast as you can, even after Charles had rejected every request. His arm never left your waist. He even shook his head to people who asked to interview him regarding the race, telling them that he would come back after he sent you to the Ferrari’s hospitality.
“Here’s your drink. Oh, and I also got you some chocolates because it’s hot and you always needed something sweet. Some vitamins which I’m not sure if you ever need them but, you know, just in case. And– “
“Charles, I’m fine. Go and do your duty as a driver, honey.” You held his hand that was halted in the air as he was searching for something else he could give you.
“Are you sure? You were trembling earlier, Y/N.”
“It was just the sun. I’m fine now. See?” You cupped his cheeks and giggled when he shivered, feeling your cold hands against his skin. “Go! Don’t make them wait.”
“I’ll come back to you before I have to get into the car. Don’t be in the garage. Stay in here. It’s more comfortable, alright? I love you.” He leaned in to kiss you and pecked on your shirt covered belly. “And you too, little one. Please be nice on mommy.”
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You were lying through your teeth but Charles didn’t catch any of it. He was probably too nervous for the race as he could usually read you like an open book. Your cramps had been going on recurrently, your belly is hard to touch and it felt heavier. The steps taken from your car to the paddock made you out of breath, your legs were shaking from having to walk through the cramps but your husband knew nothing about any of it. You felt like the weather and the tension from earlier might had something to do with it. You weren’t going to tell him because he had enough on his plate and though you knew he didn’t mind it at all, you didn’t want him to do anything hasty on the race day. He had told you multiple times how he could skip the practice and even the qualifying round if you just told him something was wrong and if he knew about what you had been feeling these past few days, he wouldn’t even be attending this race and you couldn’t afford that. He was a Ferrari driver before he was your husband. This should be his priority, not you. It’s Monaco, he had always been the centre in every Monaco GP, what would the fans say if he, the only Monegasque in the grid was missing on the important day.
You weren’t sure why you had been feeling this way. Your due date was 3 weeks away. That was surely long enough. You even googled if it was possible for women to get Braxton hicks in their 37 weeks into the pregnancy but most of the answers sent you to shiver that you refused to read in detail and tried to hold it off, until the race, at the very least.
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Charles couldn’t see you before he got into the car. He had been pushing his schedule back when he chose to stay with you in the hospitality earlier so he had no more gap before he race. He was now in the grid walk, fireproofs suit on as he was putting on the balaclava, the white-coloured open mask while one of his race assistant, Xavi was holding his helmet. “Where’s Joris?”
“He’s there. Joris!”
Joris came running from the side of the grid and Charles turned to look at him. “Please keep an eye on Y/N for me. I have a feeling she’s not telling me something.”
“Got it. You don’t have to worry about her.”
“If, God forbid, something happened to her during the race, please let me know. At any time of the race.” He then took the helmet from Xavi and gripped on Joris’s shoulder as he was about to walk away. “Promise me, Joris. Let me know. No matter what position I am.”
“Nothing will happen to her, Charles. I’ll be by her side. Just focus on your race.”
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“Ow..” You winced, steps came to a halt as you placed your hand on the wall to hold yourself. The cramp became more and more intense you could barely stand up any longer than 5 minutes. Even a walk to the bathroom took you long enough as you had to keep on stopping or your legs would just give away. “Not too hard, baby..”
“Y/N, you okay?” Joris came and your face instantly became more at ease to hide the pain.
“I’m fine, Joris. I just feel a little hot.” He offered you a hand and as soon as you pulled your hand from the wall, your whole body became wobbly and Joris immediately caught you in his arms.
“Woah, woah, slow down. Let’s walk you back to the lounge area, alright? Just lean on me.”
You felt a chill as you started sweating abnormally though you were in an air-conditioned area. Soon as you took a step forward, everything became a blur and you lost control of yourself, giving in completely.
“Y/N!” You felt Joris’s body against yours as you fell to the ground. Your eyes were heavy that it felt like it required a huge amount of energy to force it opened and you let yourself capiltulated to the darkness.
Joris immediately called for a medic and he was told that you needed to be taken to the emergency room right away, making him even more overwrought as it sounded more serious than he thought. “Can you wait until I informed her husband first?”
“Sir, we are suspecting internal emergency. We can’t wait. Leave us her emergency contact number and we’ll call them to direct to the hospital.”
Internal emergency. Joris could barely think straight and became more perturbed. One because Charles had given him the responsibility to look over you and he thought it was just his friend being overprotective. Second because you had been more like a family, like a little sister to him so he didn’t want anything bad happened to you. He had given Charles’s parent a call, telling Pascale to call your parents as well before he barged into the garage. He couldn’t cross the pit lane due to safety precaution but the group of people who had direct access to the drivers’ radio were all sitting across the pit lane. He ended up grabbing a random engineer to help him passed the words. “Tell them to inform Charles that his wife had been brought to the emergency room.”
He then saw the engineer walked and whispered to the person in charge and felt a little relief because now all he had to do is wait for Charles so he could go to the hospital.
But he didn’t know none of his words were being conveyed.
“Charles,”
Silenced.
“Guys, I’m listening.”
“No, nothing. Just wanted to inform that we are sticking to plan A.”
“Copy that.”
Joris waited, and waited. He was so anxious he couldn’t even stand still. He saw Charles on the final turn and thought to himself that he was gonna came into the pit lane any second,
but he didn’t. His car passed the starting line again as he carried onto the next lap.
✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @aundercover @love4lando @shinrjj
if your usernames were crossed meaning I can’t tag you 😭 let me know if you would like to be removed or added to the taglist! or if I missed anyone!
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simplyreveries · 4 months
Note
I don't know if someone has already requested this, but can I request the first years with GN!Reader who always falls asleep in weird places like on a tree branch, in the closet, under the table, or in the middle of the field, etc.? So the boys have to carry them back to Ramshackle Dorm.
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ace trappola
at first, he was confused and even shocked at your strange ability to feel comfortable enough to sleep practically anywhere but of course it turns into him snickering and laughing whenever he catches you. he'd nudge deuce and tell him you're doing it again. he seriously could've died laughing and had to hold it in when he saw riddles frustrated and confused expression when you were passed out asleep underneath a table after an unbirthday party.
it comes to a point where he doesn't seem fazed or concerned if you're missing from class or something- he'd probably shake his head playfully and think you're just off sleeping somewhere unusual. he'd go off to find you most of the time. doesn't know how to wake you up, he's a, (loving) ass but he likes to stack random things on you either until you wake up or it falls. he's gotten in trouble multiple times for which in class. he'll call you a "sleepyhead" and sometimes tries to fool you and tell you you've slept through the whole day-!
much to his surprise,,, during an instance where you're just too hazy and too tired to be fully there. he groans and resorts to helping you back to ramshackle having you lazily use him as some support when walking back together. he'd tease and tell you you're lazy- but ace has never left your side when it's getting late, and he needs to wake you up or help you get back to ramshackle with the help of deuce.
deuce spade
ok not going to lie he's a little concerned. he's literally wondering how you manage to remain perfectly fine and unharmed when you somehow fall asleep int he most inconvenient and even dangerous spots. he's usually nervous and has a look of worriedness for you. deuce literally never felt more confused and SCARED when you fell asleep once inside the alchemy room... it's just waiting for disaster with mishaps in there.
deuce felt unsure if he should wake you up half of the time and when he does try it's too light of shaking or too quiet of talking to do anything. around that time ace or grim try suggesting splashing water on your face. he'd immediately figure out how to wake you up as soon as they mention that.
the time when he visited ramshackle and found you curled up in front of the steps asleep (doesnt matter how many times he's used to this he still is freaked out a bit akjshjhksk) he'll probably end up asking the ghosts for help in getting you back inside... it's almost dark too! he worries at the thought if he hadn't come over. doesn't really scold you but nervously does try to remind you to be more careful-! the last thing he wants is for you to end up getting hurt yourself because of this unique quirk of yours.
jack howl
the first time he witnessed this was an... experience, he was in the middle of track, and you were just sprawled out laying in the grass in a sunny spot. at first, he thought you were resting maybe... not actually fully asleep. he kinda just stares and tries to figure out in his head only for grim to tell him "...ya this is normal for them".
jack gets concerned like deuce and genuinely doesn't know what to do. he wants to help you but not abruptly wake you up. so, in other times where he finds you doing it again and again- he gets kind of used to it by now and doesn't seem to question it. he silently does make sure you're fine. like that one time you were peacefully asleep on a bleacher, and he quickly had to catch and stop you before you quite literally ROLLED off. you have this poor guy sweating.
though, in another time when its getting late and knows you should be back at ramshackle, he huffs and prompts to bringing you back there himself - a little annoyed by grim's snicker and climbing onto his shoulder but he does seem to make sure to look out for you. jack just prays you don't wake up, so you won't have something to tease him about later on...
epel felmier
epel silently stared for a few seconds in shock, letting himself slip cursing slightly in confusion. he regains his composure and doesn't bother waking you up if you seem- alright? he seemed to tell ace and deuce about it and they were already used to this, ace only laughed.
he panicked slightly as he found you sleeping on the floor in pomefiore once- vil would not be impressed or happy to see that and give you and probably him some small lecture. or when he found you sleeping on the steps inside the school?? does your back not feel pain?? those are times he'd actually try to wake you up, even if it took him a few attempts.
he does take it upon himself to help you get back to ramshackle, when you're not too far from it yet still managed to fall asleep right by the gate. he found grim complaining and trying to wake you up, with no luck with his paws. like ace would, grim would have you lean on him groggy and tried and he'd help bring you to ramshackle, sighing but he started to even laugh at the whole ridiculousness of it all when he's telling you to be more careful outside.
sebek zigvolt
initially, he didn't even notice you fall asleep as he loudly going on about something. he was a little shocked at first but quickly didn't hesitate to wake you up, claiming with his booming voice that it was improper at school and dangerous...! "and i thought silvers sleeping habits were terrible...!"
he is a knight (in training) and is keen with good senses and quick reactions- so like with jack, if you're literally about to fall or roll in your sleep when your off asleep in some crazy spot he'll swiftly move and stop you. grumbling how unusual it is. and he would never admit it, but you did once startle him when he found you sleeping in a tucked area, he literally reached for his magic pen. would die if you found out and deny it profusely.
it doesn't matter with all the scolding... sebek does help you. and like all the other times wouldn't dare to admit it and his slight soft spot for you. after a few failed attempts at waking, you he'd make sure you get to ramshackle himself, which is no sweat for someone like him. he couldn't believe you were sleeping outside for so long it was starting to rain!
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fairestwriting · 4 months
Note
Hey, hello, would it be possible to request the first years with a crush or s/o who's constantly very warm so they can basically act as a human heating pad but despite this they're very touch starved and basically melt into hugs and cuddles, gender neutral pronouns would be great, thank you very much and merry (probably late) Christmas if you do this and same to you even if you don't!
another oldie (Visibly. im so sorry anon. i hope an awesome holiday season) i just had to take...... in the name of all my fellow human space heaters
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Ace Trappola
One day, his hands got cold, and you were nearby, neck fully exposed, and Ace did what he would obviously do in this situation. Except it turned out he was the one shocked by how warm you are, even though he did make you jump a bit.
He's a fan of the physical affection. He doesn't fluster easily and likes showing you off all smug, linking your arms together or putting his over your shoulder while you're with your friends. The warmth is a great bonus.
When you cuddle up in a hot day, he whines about how you're gonna cook him alive and will jokingly "attempt" to push you off while giggling, then turning on the AC of his room or dragging you both somewhere cooler.
Deuce Spade
The first time you hug, Deuce gets spooked because he thinks you have a fever. He fusses over you for a few good minutes before you can explain anything. Then gets embarrassed of his reaction.
Being Deuce, he'll randomly revisit this worry, but mostly he just eases into it rather easily. He's a little shy, whether you're in public or not, but you can tell he feels comfortable with the way he leans into you.
Feels so bad if you're holding hands and his gets sweaty. Apologizes a billion times while wiping it clean on his shirt. Nevermind that it'd happen even if you weren't so warm, he just doesn't want you to ever feel awkward when touching him.
Jack Howl
Also really warm because of his wolf beastman genes, also surprisingly touchy. It's hard to tell which one of you is warmer, actually? Which in the end just means you end up comfortably cuddled up very oftwn.
...whenever you're away from others, of course. It's not that Jack hates the thought of PDA, but he "prefers to take it slow" (Read: Makes him blush way too easy)
Commiserates in the summer and celebrates in the winter if you're not very tolerant to heat like him. Sometimes he talks about his family's trips to the north with a voice softer than usual, hinting just a little bit that he'd really love it if you came along one day.
Epel Felmier
He's also on the warmer side temperature wise, but he's small, so he ends up getting cold surprisingly easily.
At first he's a bit spooked with the touchyness, really just because it's his first relationship, but it grows on him. A lot.
Epel thinks him getting cold easy-ish is embarrassing, so he really feels like he won the lottery here. Now he gets to put his arm around your waist to stay warm and look cool with you by his side, boy's on top of the world.
Sebek Zigvolt
Runs very cold. The first time your hand is anywhere on him he jumps a bit. The situation's like the inverse of someone who gets startled by their friend's cold hands pressed to their neck.
He briefly questions if you're really human, stammering something about how only beastmen are so warm. He's too distracted by how nice your warmth feels to make much sense.
He's so easily flustered every time you get cuddly, but if he even tries to push you off (Which he mostly just does if you're in public) it comes out all feeble. Even if he's trying to keep up with etiquette and you two actually have to step away from each other, it's all over his face that he misses the coziness.
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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months
Text
yandere! holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part three]
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warnings: obsessive behavior, profane language, religious themes, implied manipulation, physical harassment.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile devoice or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Reblog to support content creators!
Part One
Part Two
Epilogue
Hey guys, welcome to part three of this collaborated series with @deathmetalunicorn1! I am currently on break and won't be back until the 14th, but I figured that since I had recently finished this, might as well post it for everyone to enjoy! I will make a post when I come back, so no worries, I'm not going anywhere yet~!
On another note, please keep in mind that no bullying is tolerated on here. If there is, then this segment and the other chapters will be removed in its entirety.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what will happen in today's episode :)
Yoo Kyung-Mi had been born with beauty and was taught to use it to her advantage. Her mother knew what she was talking about. Why else did she remarry a wealthy man and make their lives so much easier? It was so much better than barely getting by on their own, trapped in a dingy apartment and worrying if there will be enough food money until the next paycheck. Kyung-Mi went to university, found work at a gaming company and subsequently, a shadow to use to elevate her reputation. A lackey really, but she preferred the term shadow. It sounded much nicer. 
Her shadow was another game designer; instead of being the literal, living example of a dowdy-looking office worker, her shadow wore nice clothes. She always treated everyone equally in their department, helped whenever she could with their next project and had a nasty temper when provoked. Yoo Kyung-Mi found this out the hard way when she borrowed a coworker’s proposal and presented it at the next meeting, elevating her status as the director in charge of Labyrinth of Love. Her shadow had the fucking nerve to show her the security footage of her being at that extra’s computer, downloading the sample from the desktop and storing it in a flashdrive. 
She tried to deny it, playing the cute card of forgetting to mention the extra as being a collaborator because she was so stressed about the meeting before telling the shadow to make sure to finish her proposal on time because time was money. And then the fucking bitch grabbed her by the hair and slammed her forehead against the wall!  Her, the goddamned director! She could fire the shadow’s ass if she wanted to! This was workplace harassment! 
“You’re not the director yet, you idiot.” The shadow whispered in the shell of her ear. “That was an informal announcement, so you’re still an equal amongst us commoners. Honestly Kyung-Mi, when are you going to stop masquerading people’s creations as your own? I’ve told you back in university, during those seminars, that it would bite you in the ass. But you don’t listen.” 
“You wouldn’t be anywhere without me! You cannot live without me!” She spat. Then the shadow backed off, leaving the office as there hadn’t been a confrontation in the first place. Kyung-Mi didn’t know if the shadow was fucking mental or just didn’t give a shit about getting laid off….but she needed her shadow. It was her shadow’s creativity, like everyone else in the company, that helped MorpheusTech make millions from their products. Without them, there wouldn’t be any money. And Kyung-Mi wouldn’t have any ‘inspiration’ to elevate her status in the company. Tit for tat. 
On Monday morning, the shadow presented to the board with a game of her own. And everyone fucking loved it more than hers. Claimed that it was a breath of fresh air from the classic otome game formula. More interactions with the extra characters plus the main cast? And your choices will either boost the gamer’s stats like the Affection Meter, Morale, Reputation, or lower them? It would only be available on their digital store, and they could offer free demos to TubeTubers who have played their products in the past? Sold. The Labyrinth of Love was put on indefinite hiatus. Greenlight Fly Me To The Moon. Give her shadow everything she needs to make sure this project is a success. The company was counting on you, Kyung-Mi. Honored beauty. 
So she did. She stayed late at the office when it was past time for her to go home or go on a date. She missed her massage appointments, her precious Sundays had spent at home working on fine-tuning the game mechanics instead of shopping. Her toys started to lose interest in her. Yet she preserved because she was the heroine in this world and she would not lose.
But the final straw that broke the camel back had been all the shadow’s fault. 
Kyuing-Mi had been eyeing the gorgeous hunk Young-Min from Human Resources for a while. Tall, dark, and looked absolutely ripped in that three-piece Armani suit of his. Oh, did she mention that he was rich and super sweet? Well, now you know. When she had finally mustered the courage to approach him and confess her feelings for him (maybe use him to get rid of a certain someone), she found him with the shadow. He asked the shadow if they could get a cup of coffee later, averting his eyes and looking bashfully at the shadow. His face resembled a tomato when the shadow accepted the invitation, when the shadow smiled at him, and left to go on their break.
Honestly, the shadow should have realized that coveting someone who didn’t belong to her meant being bludgeoned from behind with a stapler. Kyung-Mi will admit that she did….she was a little angry. But if the shadow is dead, the villainess is dead, then that means she has finally everything. Not. She lost everything and got hit by a truck while crossing a busy intersection, desperately trying to search for a job before she lost her townhouse. 
Yet there was always a light at the end of the tunnel, right? Why else would she be here, possessing the heroine of Fly Me To The Moon, Cosette Lovelace? Sure, her character is supposed to be a gamer who got sucked into here and must clear it as a redeemed villainess, but where is the fun in that? All Kyung-Mi wanted to do was pursue after her bias, Sir Palamedes the second-in-command of the Holy Temple’s paladins. 
Of all the capture targets that were created in the shadow’s game, this is the one she had spent most of the time designing and writing both tragic and smutty endings with him. Thank God the shadow never knew that Sir Palamedes’ character concept looked exactly like Young-Min, from his mannerisms right down his little tic of fiddling with his hands when he was nervous.
Obsessed? No, she was observant, thank you. 
With the help of the Affection Level System, her own little playthrough guide, she was able to achieve the objectives needed to enter the Holy Temple of Aesir and unlock Sir Palamedes’ route. Everything was going smoothly until that damned extra, Harry or Harrow, had stopped her from staking her claim on Sir Palamedes. She threw something in her face, and she passed out on the floor. When she, Cosette, regained consciousness, it was almost nightfall. 
Swearing under her breath, she scrambled upright and smoothed out her grass stained skirts before all but running towards the cloisters leading back to her new private quarters. However, from seemingly out of nowhere, two older Sisters flanked her, blocking her path. She was about to turn up the innocent charm, claiming that she hadn’t meant to fall asleep under the tree with a cute  smile  when both of them wordlessly grabbed by the shoulders and hauled her into a cell. A fucking cell! Her! The heroine! 
She asked for food, and was given bread with water. When she was cold, she received a blanket and was left alone until morning. The same Sisters came back, grabbed her again and took her to the sanctuary. The pews were filled, every Brother and Sister was in attendance. The paladins circled around the altar. Her precious High Priest was there, and was her bias. So that fucking extra Harry. 
She frowned. “My flock, what is the meaning of this -” She didn’t get a chance to finish her question because a bolt of white-hot pain seared through her body. What in the world?! She looked down at the floor and there were runes under her feet, then glared back at the Sisters balefully. They had pushed her into a magic circle. How dare they do this to her?! 
Staggering to her feet, she turned her attention to the High Priest. “Father, why am I being subjected to this treatment? What have I done to you, to this congregation?!”  
“You dare to ask such a thing when the crimes against our Brothers and Sisters are so heinous that I cannot repeat them?” Harry said. She looked like shit, honestly, and she probably would look worse if she had that stupid blindfold removed. 
Yoo Kyung-Mi had never seen this character in the game, even in the demo trails….so why does Harry look so damned familiar? 
She watched Harry step forward from behind the altar, past the High Priest and Sir Palamedes. She walked down the steps, and stopped just a few feet away from the magic circle. 
“You know what you have done, Sister Esther. No…You are not worthy of being called a Sister of this Holy Temple. You are a heretic, a liar, and an adulterous beast who has dared to try and defile one of us by using an Asmodian Seed. Where and how did you acquire it?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about-” That was when the pain began again. “You-” And again. Fuck, this hurts. It really hurts. 
“Please answer the question and do not try to be clever with your answers lest you actually enjoy being in pain.” Harry said peevishly. “You know what it is because you were the one who had implanted inside Sir Palamedes. Is this not true?” Harry raised her voice. “Were you affected by this wickedness, Sir Palamedes?”
Her precious bias nodded, his beautiful violet eyes hard and cold. “I was, Lady Harrowhark, and swear by the Oath of Fidelity that I was its intended victim. I dare not think what would have happened, if you had not been there to save me.”
“You heard him. Answer truthfully this time.”
So she did. She spat in the bitch’s face. “Allow me to ask you a question, Harry. Who the fuck are you to give me orders?”
Applauded gasps and murmurs bounced across the temple’s walls. One Sister fainted from hearing such profane language, having to be carried out by two of her closest Brothers. 
But Harry didn’t react. 
Instead, she withdrew a handkerchief from her robes pockets and carefully wiped away the spit. Once she was done, she pocketed the dirty rag. Then she lifted her hands up and moved them to the back of her head, untying the mother-of-pearl cloth. She pulled it down, and two eyes that sparked like a pair of sapphires stared right at her.  Sapphires. Eyes. Cosette, Yoo Kyung-Mi, felt her heart drop into her stomach at seeing those eyes. 
The eyes that belonged to the shadow. The eyes Young-Min said were so beautiful that they took his breath away. 
“I am Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved. I am the Possessor of His Eyes -”
“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY?!?” Kyung-Mi screamed. “YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME, STOLE FROM ME, AND YOU HAVE THE GODDAMNED NERVE TO LEAVE A PIECE OF YOURSELF IN THIS GAME?!” 
“Heretic -”
“YES, I GAVE IT TO HIM! I GAVE SIR PALAMEDES THE ASOMEDIAN SEED BECAUSE I WANTED HIM! IF HE WERE DEFILED, HE WOULD HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO MARRY ME, AND I WOULD FINALLY BEAT YOU! YOU WERE ALWAYS MY SHADOW! YOU WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO COVET WHAT WAS MINE, YET YOU KEPT TAKING EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME! IS THAT A GOOD ENOUGH ANSWER, YOU BITCH?!” 
Harrowhark’s mouth closed, tightening into a thin line before she averted her gaze towards the choir pews, where three cloaked figures sat in silence. “Does this outburst suffice as a confession, Your Imperial Highness?” She asked them. 
The one on the right stood up, pulling back his hood and revealing himself to be, indeed, The Glorious Sun of the Helux Empire, Emperor Maximus IV. A tall, broad-shouldered man with golden hair and possessed one ruby eye. He had lost his left one in a war. That was all she knew about him. 
But seeing the  identities of his companions, once they pulled back their hoods, that brought Kyung-Mi’s muddled brain back to reality: her parents, Viscount and Viscountess Lovelace. Shit. Fuck. FUCK!
“It does. Words cannot express my anger and disgust at the thought that such a heinous crime would be enacted in the House of Aesir. Allow me, Your Holiness, to carry out her punishment here and now.”
Harrowhark frowned. “Your Imperial Highness -”
“I am already here, Your Holiness. And I have only exercised my royal authority once since I ascended to the throne twenty years ago. If it makes you uncomfortable to do it in the presence of the congregation, I am more than happy to privately announce these crimes in the palace’s interrogation chambers. It is your choice, Your Holiness.” He, the most powerful man in the Empire, lowered his head to Harrowhark. 
Harrowhark sighed. “I beseech you to not address me in such a manner Your Imperial Highness, nor to humble yourself in my presence. In the Holy Temple of Aesir, we are equal under His Eye. Please, raise your head.” The Emperor did. “In regards to the heretic…she must never darken the footsteps of these sacred grounds again, or anywhere else. What happens within the circle of nobility is no concern of mine. The church cannot be intertwined with matters of the state. We are from entirely different worlds, but we must work together to ensure that our people live in peace. Is this a satisfactory answer, Your Imperial Highness?” 
Kyung-Mi choked on her saliva. It would be awful to be separated from her bias, but to also have her silver spoon being taken from her too? She did not want to spend her second life struggling to make a living! She is supposed to be the most beloved person in this game! Everything is supposed to go her way, not Harry’s!
She watched in anxious anticipation as the Emperor, The High Priest, and her parents huddled together, speaking softly until they separated. The Viscount and Viscountess stepped to the side as the others stepped forward. 
The Head Priest glanced around the congregation, raising his arms as he spoke. “Cosette Lovelace, daughter of Viscount Lovelace. For your crimes and heresy against this most holy place, you are excommunicated from the Holy Temple of Aesir until the end of your days. May Aesir forgive you, because…in my heart, at this moment, I cannot bring myself to do so.”
He then stepped back, and the Emperor stepped forward. 
The Emperor inhaled a deep breath, closing his eye for a moment before addressing the congregation. As he did so, palace guards entered from opposite sides of the chapel near the altar. 
“I, Emperor Maximus IV, hereby use my authority in the Holy Temple of Aesir under the witness of all those in attendance. I condemn you to live the rest of your days in prison, in a cell with no windows. You tried to bring darkness to this sacred sanctuary, therefore, you will spend the rest of your days in darkness.” 
Kyung-Mi’s knees buckled, collapsing onto the carpeted floor as she stared at the Emperor in shock. No. No, this can’t be happening! I’m the heroine! I’m supposed to live a life of luxury! I can’t go to jail!  When she saw her parents descend down the stairs, her anxiety slowly dissipated into hope. No. Not yet! They love me! They wouldn’t allow their only child to starve on the streets like a beggar or rot until she was an old hag, right?!
CRACK.
Kyung-Mi’s face stung from the slap she’d just received from her mother. Quivering, she touched the reddening cheek, peering through the curtain of her blue hair at her parents. Her mother was sobbing quietly, covering her face in her hands as her father wrapped his arm around his wife’s quivering shoulders. 
“You are no daughter of mine.” That was all he said before he left alongside his sobbing wife. They left her. They fucking abandoned her when she needed him the most, these….these bastards! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO HER? WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO GO THE SHADOW’S WAY? IS IT SO AWFUL TO HAVE A HAPPILY EVER AFTER OF HER OWN?!
Then she screamed. She screamed and kicked and cried as the Emperor’s guards tied ropes around her wrists, dragging her down the aisle, towards the doors. Kyung-Mi looked over her shoulder, tears spilling down her face as she stared at Sir Palamedes, hoping Young-Mi would understand she made a mistake and just wanted to be with him, please please save her. 
But he did not look at her with tenderness and devotion as he had in the demo version of the game. Sir Palamedes stood rigidly by Harrowhark’s side, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his eyes cold and guarded. 
It was over. She had lost again. Fuck. FUCK!
©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024
Taglist: @sweetbatherodonkey @lxdymoon0357 @certifiedsimpinggalore @queenmimis @amidst-the-tempest @mochinon-yah @tonightwrites @yandere-dark-cupid @average-yandere-enjoyer @thatstrangesheep @faux-ecrivain @cassanderasblog @navierkalani
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qqueenofhades · 2 years
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Hi! I know Charles is terrible for a number of reasons, but if it’s not too much trouble can I get like, a top 10 list or something lol, that I may be able to pull out over the following months when people are like “well he’s not thaaaat bad.” I wouldn’t even know where to start looking, not to mention what might be buried or hard to find.
Oh boy, this is my time. (Well, again.)
Aside from how awfully Charles treated Diana while they were married, let's start with the massive ongoing cash-for-honors scandal and the investigation into his private charity for basically selling personal access to him (the future British monarch) in exchange for, sometimes, literal duffel bags of black cash. (Don't worry, they promised with all seriousness that next time, they would absolutely stop taking those!) This was also happening at the same time as the police probe into his younger brother Andrew for, y'know, being a statutory rapist and sex trafficker who hosted Kevin Spacey and Ghislaine Maxwell as his personal guests at Buckingham Palace. Yet again, the Palace bureaucracy tried to insist that Charles Didn't Know About This Personally!!!, because the "good prince" is exempt from the dealings of his treacherous and corrupt advisors. Mmmmhmmm.
In another case of being the most oblivious person ever, at best, Charles's charity also happily took a donation of one million pounds from the bin Laden family (yes, THAT bin Laden family). Of course when it came out, they insisted that it had been properly vetted and it was from the respectable Saudi business bin Laden! Not, y'know, the terrorist ones! I guess money from anywhere for any reason is just fine, at least until you get caught and have to do some fast talking. Possibly this is because Charles and Camilla's fancy-health-food Waitrose brand, "Duchy Originals," got busted for fraud and advocating dangerous and ineffective homeopathic remedies (which Charles has also used his public platform to advocate for, including his batshit belief that coffee enemas can cure cancer). He also likewise used his platform to interfere in civic and architectural plans that he didn't like, and is generally known for being much more outspoken and politically visible than his mother. I mean sure, his parents sucked and were physically and emotionally distant, so that can't really help growing up in such a fucked-up environment, but still.
In his (very limited) defense, I will say that he has, for quite a while, advocated for sustainability programs and action on climate change, but considering all the efforts that he himself would have to make to truly support those actions on more than just a vocal or interest-based level, that is not something that we can hang on him as a laurel. Besides, he's still the inheritor of the entire British monarchy and its whole fucked-up system, and unless he plans to change literally all of that, yeah.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months
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insatiable
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words: 1.1k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, lots of female receiving oral, excessive use of italics idk i was feeling it
rafe has been incessant all day, insatiable. you honestly have no clue what has gotten into him. he woke you up with his head between your legs, tongue licking sloppily at you, and he didn’t let up until he’d wrung two orgasms from your body. he didn’t even care about his own, getting up to get you a quick shower and then breakfast instead, not even mentioning getting himself off. 
it’s unlike rafe. you know he likes to eat you out, but it’s always in the lead up to sex. you shrugged the morning off, until it was only a few hours later that he was peeling your shorts off as you sat on the couch, making the most of your saturday by watching a film.
you thought okay, for sure this time, but again, rafe licked and sucked you to orgasm, then got back on the couch to cuddle. it wasn’t like he was unaffected, you could certainly feel it behind you as you snuggled into his warmth, but he made to move to further advance.
you start to wonder if something is wrong when after you eat lunch, rafe sets you on the table and spreads your legs, feasting on you right there. when you let out another scream, another press of your thighs together, signaling your orgasm, rafe pulls up, satisfied smirk on his face. you pull him into a strong kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, but then he pulls away, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead before clearing the dishes.
you decide maybe going out would break this cycle, so you insist on heading out to shop. you make it through one store, a couple shopping bags in hand, but when you go to load them into the back seat, rafe pushes you to get in too, taking advantage of the tinted windows as he lays you down, spreading your legs for him as he eats you out again. this time he at least uses his fingers as well, giving your a hole a little relief as it craves his cock.
you don’t want to complain. it’s not like it’s a problem, but your clit is starting to get sensitive and it’s not even dinner time yet. you’re not exactly traditionalists, but you usually have sex after dinner, in your own bed. rafe is adventurous, willing to take you anywhere, but it’s just by nature that’s when you have the most time.
you finally call out rafe when he tries to eat you out again after you bring in the shopping bags. he dumps them in the entryway, pushing you against the wall and sinking to his knees. what has gotten into you you say with a laugh. you like giving rafe head, but even on the best days it’s only maybe three times, and your clit genuinely is starting to get sore. like rafe knows it, he ignores the question, and gives your clit the softest licks, building you up slowly until he has to use his hands to support your weight, unable to stand on your own. he finishes you off, careful to pick you up and carry you upstairs to your master bedroom. he cuddles and kisses you as the bath fills with warm water, before depositing you inside.
seriously you hum, running your wet hand through rafes hair, unable to resist the soft strands, even as he sits on the stool outside the bath, what has gotten into you. rafes head drops, but you can see the soft smile on his face, a plastered one, one that means hes about to tell you a lie. i cant just treat my girl?
you give him a stern look. rafe sighs, unable to make eye contact, looking everywhere but you. i heard you talking the other day. your mind runs through your recent conversations. to your friend about how head can just be head and doesn’t have to lead to sex. i never do that for you. you give me just a blowjob all the time. so i’m trying to make up for it even though my dick fucking hurts every time i see your pretty pussy and don’t get to fuck it.
you can’t help but laugh at rafe. he sounds so dejected and sad, talking about missing your pussy. rafey. you coo, running your hand over his thigh from your lower spot in the bath. i don’t mind. i would tell you if i minded. that was about my friend specifically because her man never satisfies her properly. that’s not us. 
can you… can you get out of the fucking bath so i can fuck you now? rafe asks, and you nod. he helps you stand, doing a shoddy job of drying you off with the fluffy towel, before taking you into the bedroom, depositing your naked body on the bed. rafe strips, and his cock is painfully hard, standing at attention, tip angry and red. despite the precum glistening on his tip, rafe still slots himself between your legs.
this head is the best yet, knowing for sure it’s going to lead to rafe fucking you. he licks, sucks, slurps, right up until you’re going to cum, and then he pulls away, quicky moving up the bed to easily slide his cock into you. your orgasm rushes through your body, before rafe can even pull back out to start thrusting, just the feel of him alone sends you over the edge.
rafes ego inflates a little at this, keeping his cock deep inside as your body works through it. you give him the nod to move, and rafe starts to thrust hard. he’s merciless, using your body to get himself off. he knows you struggle to cum without clit stimulation, but for the first time all day he completely ignores it, hands tight on your hips as he thrusts over and over and over.
your eyes roll back in your head when you feel rafes cock swell. you know that he’s not lasting much longer. you don’t even care about your own orgasm, you’ve had enough for one day, you just want to help rafe to his, to feel his cum inside of you. you clench your pussy around him, and that seems to does it, rafe burying himself deep inside of you as his cum spurts inside of you, painting your walls.  he pulls out and collapses next to you, letting out a breath that sounds like relief. you roll onto your side so you can look at him, smiling at his satisfied face as you rub a hand up and down his wide back. rafe leans to give you a kiss, letting your lips glide over each other. he pulls away with a smirk, slinking down your body. oh god. again.
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sebscore · 1 year
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THE PRIZE THAT KEEPS ON GIVING 
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pairings: jenson button x driver!reader / lewis hamilton x driver!reader / susie wolff x driver!reader / toto wolff x driver!reader / sebastian vettel x driver!reader / mick schumacher x driver!reader / kimi raikkonen x driver!reader
warnings: talk about getting drunk. a drunk kimi. swearing. the host is made up cause I couldn't find the name of the person that actually does it lol. 
author's note: idk how these award ceremonies go but then again all of this is fiction so just be delulu with me :) also, not me posting fics about the fia gala consecutively.
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''Welcome our rookie of the year, Y/N Y/L.'' The host called her up on the stage, the other attendees clapping for her as she got up from her seat. 
It hadn't been her first time on the FIA Prize Giving stage, having collected her Formula 3 European Championship trophy two years earlier. Despite having done this before, the young woman felt nervous and uncomfortable with all the eyes on her. 
She thanked the person giving her the award, anxiously smiling at the audience. Y/N found the comforting eyes of Susie in the crowd, the older woman giving her a supportive nod. 
''Y/N, thank you for being here and congratulations on being named the FIA Rookie of the Year.'' David praised her, a semi-genuine smile on his face. 
She bowed her head. ''Thank you so much.'' 
''You had a very great year, a podium and P7 in the championship standing- best of the midfield- has everything sunken in yet?'' He asked, holding the microphone up to her mouth . 
''It's really crazy, to be honest. You know, I was already happy with just scoring points in Australia, but to, uh, have made it on the podium as well… just crazy- I'm, uh, very happy with how my first season went.'' She answered, stuttering over her words a few times. 
David nodded along to her words, subtly taking a look at his notes. ''Barely two weeks ago, you shared your first podium with Lewis and Sebastian in Abu Dhabi,'' the host pointed at the two men in the audience, the both of them caught off guard by the sudden mention of their names, ''they're the World Champion and Vice-Champion of this season, how did it feel to share the podium with them?'' 
''Uh, you know- pretty great,'' her slow response garnered some chuckles from the crowd, ''they're legends of our sport so I felt very honoured to have been up there with them, especially to end the season.'' Y/N gave herself an encouraging nod at the end of her response. 
''You said after the race that the two of them were your childhood idols, and they have also given you several praises throughout the season, but there is also another person you looked up to as a child, right?'' The rookie could feel there was something coming up as David looked at her with a smirk on his face, but she was clueless as to what it was. 
Her confused face amused all of the attendees, a chorus of laughter being heard and making her even more nervous. ''Oh- I don't like that look on your face.'' She joked, the laughter growing at her response. 
''Well, Y/N- a certain someone might have informed us about an interview you did about 7 years ago when you were 11 years-old,'' David grinned, Y/N giving him a puzzled look, ''in which you said and I quote: 'I want to become a Formula 1 driver, win a World Championship and marry Jenson Button.' Does that ring any bells?'' 
As soon as the last words were said, Y/N turned her back to the audience and covered her gaping mouth, shocked they would bring this up after all the time that had passed. 
All of the attendees were having the time of their life as they saw the obvious embarrassment on the girl's face despite her trying to cover it up. 
Y/N almost tried to make a run for it, but was stopped by David who held onto her arm. ''You're not going anywhere, we're not done yet.'' He snickered, taking another look at his cards. 
''Unfortunately, Jenson is not here tonight, but we do have something else for you.'' David smirked, motioning his arm to the projector behind them- the face of Jenson appearing on the big screen. 
''Hello, everyone! I couldn't be there due to other engagements, but I just wanted to congratulate Y/N on her wonderful rookie season and for being awarded 'Rookie of the Year' tonight,'' Jenson's self-made video played, Y/N watching in shock that this was actually happening. 
''I was made aware of your aspirations to marry me,'' she could see him holding back a huge grin, ''unfortunately, I'm not single so I'm afraid that I'll have to turn the offer down, but I'm very flattered by your confidence and determination of your 11 year-old self.'' Jenson laughed, his infamous smile making an appearance. 
''Anyway- I wish you good luck for the next season and I'm sure it will be even better than this one! Again, congratulations and I hope you enjoy your evening! Bye bye!'' He bids her goodbye and the screen goes back to black. 
Y/N slowly turns back around, her perplexed expression entertaining everyone in the crowd. She was feeling a mix of emotions; disbelief, happiness and also humiliation. 
''You like the surprise, Y/N?'' David asked her, containing himself from bursting out in laughter. 
He held the mic up to her face, but for several moments she didn't say anything, staring mindlessly at nothing. ''I'm, uh, well, that was, uh,'' she stumbled over her words, trying not to curse as it was still a formal event. 
''She's speechless, ladies and gentlemen.'' David interrupted her, making everyone laugh again. ''You didn't expect that, did you?'' 
''No, I did not expect that, David.'' Y/N answers more clearly, her blunt tone resulting in some loud cackles being heard- she swore she recognized Lewis among them. 
''Alright- well, we're going to round it up here, but you're going to celebrate your season well tonight?'' He finished the interview with his last question. 
The young woman nodded her head. ''Yeah, I'm gonna drink all night to forget this.'' She responded, another symphony of laughter and snickering being heard through the large space. 
''That's really great, Y/N- everyone, a round of applause for our Rookie of the Year, Y/N Y/L!'' The female driver walked as quickly as she could in heels off the stage, making her way back to her table.
Since she was still part of the Mercedes Junior Program, she had been seated with Susie, Toto and Lewis, along with a bunch of other Mercedes employees. 
''You've really brightened the place up, Y/N.'' Susie told her the moment she sat down on her chair, a big smile on her face. 
She jokingly rolled her eyes at the older woman, staring down at her own hands in her lap. A hand tapping her arm made her look up. ''Here,'' Lewis handed her a glass of what seemed to be champagne, ''I think you can use this.'' He sheepishly smiled. 
''I've never felt this embarrassed in my life.'' She took the glass and gulped it down in one go, loudly placing the empty glass back down on the table. 
''Don't drink too fast!'' Toto scolded her, not coming across as stern since he was laughing. ''You don't want to end up like Kimi over there.'' The Team Principal pointed at the Ferrari table where a drunk Kimi Raikkonen was trying to put Sebastian in a headlock. 
''It's his Finnish blood.'' Y/N argued, filling up her glass again. 
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''It was you, wasn't it?'' There could have been only one person that informed the host about Y/N's past infatuation with the British driver, and during the break she went over to his table and confronted him about it. 
Sebastian flinched at the sudden hand on his shoulder, but smiled as he took notice of who it was. Once he internalised her words, he feigned innocence. ''What do you mean? You think that I would tell anyone about Jenson?'' The teasing smirk of the Ferrari driver was one she wanted to slap from his face, but it was all in good fun. 
''Dude, that was so embarrassing!'' She slapped his arm, grabbing the attention of Hanna who sat next to him. ''Can you believe it, Hanna? I was mortified.'' Y/N turned towards the woman. 
''I knew it as soon as Jenson's face appeared, he was giggling like a schoolgirl.'' His partner nudged him with her elbow, Sebastian put his hands up in defeat. 
''Come on, Y/N- you have to admit it was a great surprise.'' A small sprinkle of doubt had planted itself in the back of his mind, maybe it wasn't a good idea after all and she would be upset with him. 
His panic of doubt was washed away as a genuine smile found its way to Y/N's face. ''It will be a nice story in a few years so thanks for that, I guess.'' Yes, she had felt incredibly ashamed, but she had also received a personal video message from her childhood crush so in her opinion, there was a good balance. 
''Uh, have you seen Mick? I haven't talked to him tonight.'' She asked the couple, wanting to check up on her friend. 
Hanna shook her head, while Sebastian pointed towards the door that led to the hallways. ''I think he went to the bathroom.'' He replied. 
''Thanks, I'll see you two later.'' Y/N bid them goodbye, smiling at both of them before disappearing into the hallways to find the young Schumacher. 
She waited against the wall across from the men's bathroom, her awkward stance must have made other people call her an idiot in their own minds. After a few minutes of looking like a weirdo, the German finally came out of the bathroom. 
''What the fuck were you doing in there?'' Y/N surprised him, he didn't expect to find her waiting for him. 
Mick took a deep breath to calm down, his friend had scared him good. ''Jesus Christ, what the fuck.'' His hand rested on his heart. 
''You can just call me Y/N, Mickie.'' She winked at him. 
'You idiot,'' he smiled, taking a step forward and pulling her in a quick hug, ''congrats on the award, by the way.'' 
''Thank you, I appreciate it.'' 
Mick chuckled. ''You know, I had totally forgotten about your crush on Jenson! It's been so long since I last heard about it.'' The German remembered all the times his friend would dream out loud about her 'future marriage' to the British driver. 
''I had forgotten about it too, until Seb decided I needed a good reminder.'' Y/N said, sarcastically making him laugh. 
The youngest Schumacher was about to reply, but was interrupted by a certain Ferrari driver. 
''Hey, Y/N! If you want to marry Jenson, you can marry Jenson! I'll be there to support you!'' Kimi wrapped his arms around Mick and Y/N's shoulders, holding them close to him. 
The young woman held in her laughter, simply patting his chest. ''Thanks, Kimi. I'll remember that.'' 
The Fin looked from her to Mick. ''Too bad, man! I know how much you like her!'' He ruffled the guy's hair, a sad expression on his face to convey his sympathy for Mick. 
Both youngsters widened their eyes, one in shock and the other in embarrassment. ''Okay- it was good to see you, Kimi!'' The Prema driver lightly pushed him away, his cheeks colouring red. 
''I can help you if- Hey, Jean!'' Kimi took notice of Jean Todt on the other side of the hallway and walked over there, leaving the two of them alone again. 
Y/N glanced at Mick who was avoiding her eyes. ''You want to tell me something, Schumacher?'' She smirked. 
''I think I need to go to the bathroom again.''
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