#i spent like 2 hours on this after applying for jobs so
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FLATLINE | PAIGE BUECKERS
➣ paige x fem!gf!reader
➣ summary: y/n and paige experience what it means to be in a long distance relationship, but with the distance between them, can they overcome it?
➣ warning : secret relationship, angst (kinda) ,long distance.
➣ duayaps: first post🥳🥳🥳, thoughts?
➣ inspired by flatline by justin bieber.
"I'LL MISS YOU" paige muttered against her neck.
"it'll go by before you know it" y/n said pulling away from the hug. When college applications started being filled, she took a big risk and applied for Politecnico di Milano, a fashion uni in Milan, Italy. She had already said goodbye to her parents, thinking that was the hardest goodbye she could imagine, but the tears in her eyes from saying goodbye to her girlfriend right now, told her she lied to herself a while ago.
Paige and y/n had always had a rocky side of their relationship, for one, it was a secret waiting to bomb the world, two, they always knew that long distance was going to be a thing for them. With Paige going to Uconn and Yn going to PDM, 'it was already doomed' said by most people. But overcoming the rocky side of their relationship, there was the fairytale side. The one where they in love, where they supported each other in everything, where they took each others first kisses, first everything. They were each other's lifelines in a way, they didn't go a day without speaking to each other.
They both hoped that these future 4 years, weren’t going to change their feelings of each other.
✩
Lately you've been busy, wondering if you miss me
Why did you go against me? I just wanna know
How come you act so different? Talk to me, I'll listen
All the love I'm giving, don't act like you don't know
“…leave a message after the tone” y/n sighed as she hung up the phone. It was 7am and her alarm had just gone off, Paige was most likely asleep. It’s 1am at Storrs.
If you put the time difference aside, they were doing well. Both of them spent at least 2 hours everyday on the phone and haven’t had an any problems yet.
But it’s only been 5 months. 7 months and 3 years to go.
Y/n was glad Paige settled in great, she got along with her teammates and had a great support system there. Paige became a media star, with that came many fans. While y/n wasn’t the jealous type, these fans were wild.
She opened her instagram app, and slowly started to scroll through stories. When she stopped, went stiff. “Oh” she muttered, her girlfriend’s teammate, Aaliyah, had posted a story with the Uconn women’s basketball team having fun ,at what she would guess, a bar. Paige is in the background , a girl sitting next to her, whiles shes on the phone. Y/n quickly checked when the story was posted,10minutes ago.
‘Okay so she could’ve just posted this when she came home’ y/n quickly assured herself. Paige wouldn’t just ignore her calls, especially on a night out, right?
As those thoughts filled her head, a notification sound came from her phone.
pb 👩🏼❤️💋👩🏽
gm baby. can’t talk, tired, going to bed.
y/n didn’t think anything, she couldn’t. She just typed ‘sweet dreams💗’ and hit send.
no i love you, no ily, not even an emoji.
‘Stop, don’t overthink this ,shes just tired’ she told herself. She shut her phone off and got out of bed, leaving her thoughts about P in her comfy bed.
:
It had been a month since the bar incident, and everything seemed normal, until a week ago.
Y/n just got out of work, a small intern job to help her graduate early. It was 6pm in Milan, and 12 in Storrs.On her way home, y/n called P.
The phone rang, 1,2,3 times before she hung up. Tried a gain, 1,2,3. User is busy.Paige had hung up on her, she didn’t think much of it. ‘She’s probs busy’.
That was 6 days ago.
While they exchange texts, no calls were made this week. Paige was busy, like really busy, But not busy ‘not go out with her friends for the 3rd time this week’ busy. Y/n got it, freshman year, new teammates, she had to have fun. She also knew that their relationship was on the down low. Even though she assured Paige that it was okay to tell her teammates, P reluctantly agreed. ‘I don’t know, i’ll see’ She muttered to y/n, 2 weeks ago on their normal facetime call.
Y/n didn’t want to think much of it, she didn’t want her overthinking to brew a fight. The last 2 years she was back home, her and paige had never gone a day without speaking to each other, but so what it stopped now?, it was common sometimes to not call. So she let it be, but Paiges text became more and more rare,more dry and definitely more weird.
But y/n knew, paige was just busy.
✩
Girl you always catch me at the bad time (Bad time)
When I know you probably think it's a lie (A lie)
I know I told you last time was the last time (Last time)
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?
On the other end of the phone. Y/n hit the red button, and ended the call. She hit her head on the wall behind her in frustration, thankful that the call wasn’t on facetime and Paige could see her sad face.
Y/n had called in sick at work so she could watch Paiges game in peace, her boss gave her an earful, because it was one of the more busier seasons in the fashion world, but she let her be ‘sick in bed’. She was proud of Paige, and was the happiest for her.
But the mood drifted when she heard the voice tell her they need her. ‘I need her too’ Y/n thought. This was the first time in a month that Y/n heard Paiges voice. Her heart clenched when she heard her sound weird, it sounded like she was frustrated. Frustrated with who though, with y/n?.
As time went quick, it felt like Paiges texts were more rare, and even more dry. And Y/n didn’t know if Paige was aware of the way she was acting, she also didn’t know if she should say anything, Paige was a freshman in college having fun, alone,without Y/n next to her.
If Y/n were to say anything, she didn’t want to seem like the bitchy jealous girlfriend that only wanted Paige to spend time with her, she just wanted Paige to spend some time with her.
It felt like their relationship was a bomb, and their time was running out quickly.
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline? (Flatline)
Cause when I hit you, you don't even reply (Reply)
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?
✩
Not breathing, what is it I'm not seeing
Said she's leaving, damn I can't believe it
It's like my heart's bleeding knowing that you don't need me
Shut my heart down, now I don't know what Imma do now
“… i just need some space y/n” Paige said with frustration, a sigh coming after. Y/n’s heart dropped.
It all started an hour and a half ago.
Paige went out with her teammates after a late night practice, forgetting that y/n was waiting on her phone call that she promised she would do after practice.
After she came home, she was bombarded with messages from Y/n. 8 to be exact.
y/n💍
hey did you finish practice?
- 8:15PM
you ready?
- 8:18PM
paige?
- 8:20PM
paigeeeeeeee???
- 8:30PM
pbabyyyy
- 8:35PM
pls tell me u didn’t forget
- 8:45PM
paige are you fucking kidding me
- 9:45PM
it’s our anniversary
- 9:45PM
call me when you get home and make sure you’re not busy
- 9:50PM
And when she called, the yelling happened. It was the first fight they’ve had in a while. While Y/n finally exploded demanding to know what’s happening with her, Paige only had one thing to say.
“I think we should take a break”
“What?” Y/n whispered after a long pause.
“i’m not ready to be in a relationship Y/n/n, i’m still questioning what i want, and i don’t know if its you yet.” Paige said. “I’m sorry, i just need some space Y/n”
Y/n heart dropped, she didn’t know what to say or think. While Y/n knew that not everything lasted, Paige was a sure thing. Paige was her lifeline. What was she going to do?.
Y/n gulped and said the only thing she knew she could say “It’s okay”.
‘It’s okay?’ Paige was taken back. Had Y/n want to breakup before?, and then Paige shockingly felt hurt in her chest, her stomach slightly dropped. Why was she feeling like this? why isn’t she feeling relief?. This has been on Paiges mind for the past 3 months, wasn’t this the solution?
“Go be a superstar but don’t expect me to wait for you while you figure out what you want to do” Y/n said, her voice sweet. Not even a slight tone of bitterness.
Y/n still wasn’t able to move from her spot on the kitchen counter. Tears were streaming down her face, and before a sob sound could come, she hung up the phone. All Y/n knew was Paige, but know she didn’t even know that.
She had literally left her clueless, without her lifeline. now flatline.
✩
- 5 MONTHS LATER -
Paige stood there, watching from her afar.
“That’s her?” a croatian accent asked. She felt Nika sit beside her. “Yeah” Paige answered still in awe of her.
“She’s really pretty” Nika said. Paige nodded agreeing with her. She was wearing a flowy white short summer dress with cowboy boots.
It was Drews birthday today, and as the team had some off time, Drew invited them to his barbecue party. And the weekend before his birthday, he ran into Y/n. Of course the boy was oblivious to the breakup and while he asked still asked Paige for Y/n, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that they broke up.
So when Drew begged Y/n to come to his birthday party, Y/n didn’t know what else to say but yes. He could literally get whatever he wanted out of everyone.
At first, Y/n debated if she should just call Paiges stepmom and cancel, or she should just go and pray that Paige couldn’t make it.
Well, Paige had come. And so did the rest of the huskies. When Y/n saw them, she sighed. Although she was friends with Azzi, she didn’t know the rest of them, but by the look on their faces when she came in, she knew that Paige had told them her history.
Azzi, being the sweetheart she is, excitedly came running to Y/n and hugging her tight. The whole party they caught up with each other, with Azzi telling her about Uconn and Y/n telling her about studying abroad. For the past 30 minutes they’ve been talking, not once have either of them mentioned Paige.
Y/n turned, meeting Paiges eyes. The two of them made eye contact with each other again. Y/n then heard Azzi laughed, when she snapped her head to look at her friend. She saw a small teasing smile on her face. “Don’t even start” Y/n said, glaring at her. She got up and made her way to the other side of the backyard, where there was no Paige in sight.
“Y/n/n” she heard a child scream. Drew was suddenly hugging her legs. “Hi Drewsky” she laughed, beginning to tickle him. She felt the boy starting to laugh, and start to kick her hands away, while Paige and her were together, Drew became a big part in their relationship. Paiges parents often made Paige babysit Drew, and Y/n just tagged along. Through that time, Drew and Y/n became close, Y/n considered him as a baby brother. She would miss him.
“Paigeyy help me” Drew screamed laughing. Y/n became stiff, the hair behind her neck stood. She could feel her ex behind her as she let the little boy go and stand up.
Paige and Y/n stared at one another. Paige was thankful her teammates weren’t around right now, they would be on her ass all day after this.
“Hi” Y/n whispered, looking away from her and to the ground.
“Hey” Paige said back. “How’ve you been-“
“Paige please no small talk, what do you want?” Y/n cut her off. This was already awkward enough, no need to make it even more.
“Uh” Paige stuttered, a sigh coming after. “I missed you” Paige admitted. Y/n’s blood boiled, now she missed me?
Paige could sense Y/n anger, she placed a hand on Y/n elbow, tugging her from leaving. “Please just wait” Paige pleaded “I’m sorry, i just didn’t know what to do i kept having all of this kind of feelings and i know i was busy but i swear just one more chance-“
“Paige” y/n cut her off
“- and i’ll promise i’ll try harder-“ paige continued
“-stop-“ she tried to stop her
“please just give me one more chance”
“-okay” she agreed. Paiges eyes went wide, she didn’t think she would get her to agree that easy.
“I only needed you to apologize P, i only want you to make some time for me thats all. And if were really trying this again you have to be sure you want this because i don’t know if i can handle loosing you again” She said still looking at the ground.
Paiges heart dropped hearing her voice break. Although she knew how Y/n felt, Paige had been nothing but moody,grumpy and miserable these past few months. Seeing Y/n today, brought her hope that she had a second shot with her.
Y/n slowly picked up her head, and looked up at Paige. Paige was jaw dropping hot, and she knew that, her head couldn’t get any bigger by her ego.
Paige reached a hand towards her waist, pulling Y/n towards her. When she did, she slowly dropped a sweet kiss on her girlfriends lips, when she pulled away, her forehead dropped to Y/n’s.
She felt like she could finally breathe, her chest no longer hurt. She had her lifeline back.
✩
#Spotify#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers imagine#huskies#uconn#nika muhl#azzi fudd#aaliyah edwards#paige bueckers headcannons#wnba#lesbian
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some fics i've liked lately
it's been a weird year. when i made this list of recs back in january i fully intended it to become a monthly thing, but life happened and then i guess it just kept happening. in early 2023 things were ramping up in my new career, i was practicing and playing a lot with my band to prepare for our first show, i was settling into dealing with depression and anxiety with medication, i was getting over a miserable breakup. then i fell in love. i lost my job (the best and most favourite job i've ever had) abruptly this past may. this is my longest period of unemployment since i was a teenager and while you think it would be the best time to lose yourself in fandom, i felt the opposite. fandom was such a lifeline to me when i had a miserable job and was in a bad relationship and needed an escape but i was very present in my own life this summer. i took my partner to visit my family and spent a lot of time with friends and played shows (and recorded some music... shameless self promo once again) and in between i watched so much star trek on my couch. this is such a long preamble to explain why i haven't been fandoming as much lately and why idk if i'll write anything again anytime soon (let's say, once i have a job i want to procrastinate at) but -- i HAVE been reading fic! not as much as before, but i have been, and there's enough for a fic rest list so that's what i'm giving you today.
when times are dire [podfic] - @aibidil
drarry. i have such a soft spot for middle aged draco and harry falling in love, the relationships they have with their friends and their grown children. @aibidil reads her own podfics and it's an utter delight. i usually only listen to podfics or audiobooks when i'm doing work around the house but i can going on walks with my headphones just so i could listen to more of this one.
purple haze by @ashesandhackles
romione. i was so so honoured to see this pop up in my ao3 gifts during @thethreebroomsticksfic pride fest this year. it turns the well tread romione ground of shell cottage and the yule ball over a bit, using them as settings to explore a confusing mix of jealousy and sexuality for ron and hermione. ashes knows i love mess with these and it captures that teenage chaos wonderfully, then lets them laugh at it as secure and settled adults.
crookshanks by @ala-baguette
gen. warning that this is a tearjerker, especially if you've ever loved and lost a pet. i think the pure and simple expressions of love and gratitude from crook's pov here would be a comfort to any pet owner.
at some point this year, i got REALLY into the idea of a one-sided dramione. it's hard to look for, especially since it's such a popular ship but i managed to find a few that scratched the itch until i find the time and/or motivation to write one of my own
new years eve by 2daughtersofathena, the guardian angel by mylifebelongstothebbc, and a boy of hans by elixirsoflife. the last one being my personal favourite, a grim take on the hanahaki disease trope.
every mother is a grave by witchofimber
this was recced by @whinlatter in @thethreebroomsticksfic discord (btw i feel like no one on my followers lists needs anyone to remind them to read beasts -- but please read beasts) and when i saw "gillian flynn treatment" in the tags i slammed the mark for later button. this is probably the most balanced and realistic portrayals of molly weasley and her role as a mother that i've ever read in hp fic. it's not weasley family fluff but it doesn't devolve into something so flat as bashing either. molly is regular mother with flaws and strengths like anyone else and how they amplify and shift with love and grief and pain and stress and duty and pressure. every single relationship she has with her children is uniquely expressed and the way it ties the past to the direct aftermath of the war is so well done and a great way to organize this giant, messy family. particular care here went into fred and george, giving them their own identities in a way that can be difficult, given the source material. a favourite line:
“Probably have tried to make us name the twins after them.” He stopped laughing, sucked in a breath. “Do you want to?”
For a second she considered it. It would be wonderful, getting to use those names again like living things. But -
“No,” she said. “I - if they were alive, I’d have said no, so I’m saying it now. Let the boys be their own people.”
The truth was that she didn’t want to lose her brothers. To have their faces erased in her memory, painted over with her sons. To have to say no, not THAT Fab, I mean UNCLE Fab - he died before you were born. Anyway, she liked the names Fred and George. It was easier like this.
the scrunchie by @saintsenara
another fic i've meant to read for ages and finally got around to just yesterday. the background drama of these side characters as a cheap scrunchie from boots floats around them is so perfectly teenage. reminds me of the other series i loved as a teenager around the time HP was coming out: georgia nicolson and gossip girl. i could also compare it to derry girls a little, how despite the environment surrounding them these girls are still being girls, arguing about stupid things and getting crushes on boys and having the absolute most ridiculous blowout fights with your sister (parvati and padma's portrayal here is probably my favourite i've ever read!)
i also can't leave without reccing @saintsenara's wip, one year in every ten. i can't get enough of a good case fic. tomarry/harrymort (both versions of this ship, oddly, apply to this fic) is not something i've ever sought out but i really think the way it's handled here could win over any non-believer. it's sharp and funny in a way that makes it turns into poignancy hit even harder. i screenshotted two full phone screen pages of chapter 27 so i could go back and read them over and over. it might be one of the best things i've ever read from ron's POV (emphasis mine):
It had been a long ten years, with a chair at their table always left empty and a hole in their hearts always unfilled. Grief was exhausting and boring and dully painful, like a slightly sprained ankle which you can still walk on, but which always bothers you a little bit.
But there had been love among the grief. There had been love before the grief - indeed love had caused the grief - and there had been love after. His love for his parents and his siblings had changed, the way wine left in a barrel changes and becomes richer and deeper. There was more sorrow in the love, as he threw a quaffle around with George and saw the tired lines at the corner of his eyes. There was more recrimination, more struggle with the mistakes they had all made in the past, as he finally sat down and had a real chat with mum and dad about how a lifetime of corned-beef sandwiches and maroon jumpers had made him feel. But there was more joy there too. And with joy came forgiveness and understanding and hope and fun.
image used is wildflowers (1915) by tom thomson
#hp fic recs#fic recs#fandom thoughts#too personal#i spent like 2 hours on this after applying for jobs so#proscratinating fandom participant is back#at least a little bit
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applying for jobs :(
#applied for a public service job for neurodivergent people#which so. public service jobs ALL require an ''applicant response'' so they want you to write like a page of bullshit#no cover letter but anyway i spent like 40 minutes doing that#and then they want some kind of proof of disability which like. ok. but i had to go and look through all my files#like physical files. finally found a letter to get me accommodations in highschool#anyway i was planning to apply for 2 jobs today so i was on linkedin looking for one of hte quick apply ones#saw another gov job digitising natural history specemins#specimins#specimens?? there we go#which i would LOVE to do. i have none of the qualifications but im gonna apply anyway#but it closes applications in 2 days so i gotta do that today as well i guess#even though its going to take ages also#its really annoying that technically i have 3 jobs right now but i still have centrelink pressuring me + im not making enough money to live#(2 kids' after school things so limited hours + art commission work)
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can you write miles 42 having readers bank account, card ALL that on his phone and gets mad if she purchases shi with money he didint give her. its really crazy but its miles 42....what do you expect??? hehe
Sure love!!!
A/n: y’all I love you so much but I need you guys to start requesting regular miles fanfic pls. Although 42 miles owns my 🩷
It was just a simple necklace. It was the Vivienne Westwood necklace that you saw everyone around you wearing and wanted so badly. You knew Miles would get it for you in a heartbeat but a part of you wanted to get it for yourself. It had been a long, stressful semester but you struggled through it all and got to a point where ou were passing with A’s and B’s. Coincidentally, you had gotten a job at Starbucks after months of applying and you had about $1000 saved up of your own money that you were waiting to spend on something special. That was, until that “something special” came along in the form of Miles.
You never knew what he did but you knew he was making 8x your salary in a month. It seemed like anything you wanted, you got when you were with Miles; shoes, clothes, books, makeup any and everything you wanted, it was yours in a matter of days. It’s worth mentioning that Miles is extremely overprotective and wants to know everything about what you’re doing and buying because he loves you and cares about your habits.
Even on Miles’s birthday when you dipped into your savings to get him the latest Jordan’s, he was furious that you had to use your own money:
“Damn Ma, these are valid. How much were they?”
“Oh don’t worry about it” you said
“I said, how much were they.” His eyes narrowing in on you because he knew how much they were because he was gonna buy them 2 weeks ago but decided not to.
“$500. I’ve been saving for them for you, baby. It’s all good” you tried to assure him
“Aight. thank you.” He said, pulling you close to him, the scent of the Dior Sauvage cologne you also bought him, filling your nostrils
But deep down you knew he was pissed off and mad that you spent your own money, so after a long talk about how he should be able to keep tabs on you and keep you safe, you gave him your Apple Pay and banking info for emergencies only but of course it’s Miles and being the overprotective boyfriend he is, he checks it everyday for any “extravagant purchases” made by you or someone else.
Of course he isn’t crazy, he set a $25 limit for you before he steps in and asks what’s up. Once, you were at a mall with your friend and found the cutest shirt at Urban Outfitters and decided to buy it. The price tag read $50 but you went ahead and got it; the same happened at Bath and Body Works and Tilly’s and as you made your way to the bathroom, you got a text from Miles:
Miles: did someone take your card?
You: no why??
Miles: why’d you spend $150 in an hour??
You: I’m at the mall
Miles: so? I pay for your shit
You: dawg it’s $150. It’s not that deep 💀
Miles: I ain’t yo “dawg” and yes it is when Yk I buy you shit
You: you aren’t my sugar daddy
Miles: I basically am atp. I’m sending you $1000, buy something cute
You contemplated leaving him on seen but you remembered how he hates that so you replied:
You: Okay
You had saved up enough to get the necklace and when you got it, you were ecstatic. You thought about all of the possible outfit combos and how good it will look against your brown skin but your thoughts were interrupted by a certain someone:
Miles: what’d I tell you, Mami?
You: ?
Miles: don’t play dumb, yk I would’ve bought you that necklace in a heartbeat but instead you wanted to be miss independent and buy it yourself. I guess since you’re so independent, I’ll stop sending you that $1000 every week. How about that?
You: ok
Miles: ?
You: we can discuss this when I get home
Miles: K
You: k
It was a long ride home but eventually you accepted that Miles was gonna rip your head off and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.
When you got home, he had three of the necklaces, two huge teddy bears, a bouquet of your favorite flowers and the newest pair of Jordan’s waiting for you:
“What’s all this?” You smiled and asked
“I told you I’ll pay for your shit, y/n” miles said, with a small smirk on his face
#mcu fanfiction#miles morales x y/n#miles x reader#miles morales#miles morales fanfiction#miles morales x reader#miles morales headcannons#miles!spiderman#miles!prowler#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#spider verse#Spider-Man#the prowler#earth 42#earth42!miles#marvel#marry me#i love him#for you
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Can you do a Chuuya x fem reader where her bra can be shown from her white shirt?
pov: you request a simple spicy lil fic from me, but my manic brain is physically incapable of not giving it an entire backstory and plot and making it at least 4k+ words (thank you so much for this idea tho, it was super fun to write! ღ)
* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *
Sex, Money, Feelings, Die
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ My first attempt at Chuuya smut (and goddamn, do I love that angry lil man ★~(◡‿◡✿). New to the city, you're coerced into working for the PM after a drunken night out. Scared and now in the heart of one of Japan's most notorious criminal organization's headquarters, you decide to reclaim some of your power by ~*teasing the absolute fuck out of Chuuya Nakahara~*. 4.8k words. Porn with a plot. I can't even lie, this shit had me giggling and kicking my feet while writing, lemme know whatcha think. luv u ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
When you'd first moved to Yokohama 2 months ago, you had promised your parents that you'd be safe. That you'd find yourself a decent office job to afford you a lofty apartment and that you'd be settled in relatively quickly. You'd pictured yourself walking amongst tall buildings on your days off. Exploring the city with your coworkers on the weekends. Living instead of just existing in your small hometown.
You thought you had your future all mapped out and maybe you did, but those dreams of normalcy were all but destroyed the night you crossed paths with Koyo Ozaki.
She had noticed you from across the bar, quietly observing the way you'd been drinking by yourself all night. It was odd to see a girl with your beauty and lack of abilities so confidently roaming downtown alone. She wasn't sure if you were brave or naive, but the moment you took a seat next to her to thank her for the whiskey and coke she had ordered you, she realized you were the perfect blend of both.
She'd spent the next hour chatting you up, effortlessly coaxing information out of you without you realizing it. She'd offered you an administrative assistant role for the group she worked for, describing it as a "lucrative" and "underground" organization. You were in no position to say no, especially after spending the last month relentlessly applying to jobs with little to no luck.
You woke up the next day musing about silly things like fate and serendipity as you raided your closet for the perfect first day outfit. You felt like this was your big break. The first stop on the roadmap of adulthood that you'd created for yourself. You ironed a pair all black slacks, pairing it with a white-button up quarter-sleeve shirt, and your favorite suede Mary-Janes. Optimism swirled through your head as you eyed yourself in your bedroom mirror that night. You were determined to be so good at this job.
You showed up freshly showered and prepared when you arrived at the sleek, high-rise building. Ozaki waited for you out front with a rather intimidating dark-haired man who introduced himself as Mori, head of the fucking Port Mafia.
Your anxiety rose with each step you took behind them, quickly realizing that this was not the run-of-the-mill clerical job you had envisioned while hazily chatting with Ozaki over whiskey-neats. This was an underground criminal organization full of some of the strongest ability users in the world. You had absolutely no idea why you were here. Why you'd been selected, let alone trusted, to work alongside these people.
You were given your own small office, equipped with a bare desk and landline phone. Mori told you to stay put, explaining that you were to stay out of sight until further notice. You were essentially there as a cover-up.
Apparently, they'd been scouting for girls like you. New to town and completely clueless. They wanted to bring in a handful of these 'administrative assistants' to help keep up the illusion that this was just another ordinary building in the business district of Yokohama and nothing more.
Mori left you with a curt warning about the temperament of the other Mafia members and a haunting, "Welcome to the team." as he closed the door to your office and disappeared down the long corridor. Your heart was slamming into your chest, your anxiety growing the longer you sat. You were angry. Disappointed in yourself for being such an easy target.
You sat for at least an hour staring at the wall in existential dread, wondering what you'd done to end up here. Wondering what you were going to have to do to get out now that you were here. Even if it wasn't necessarily a "job", it still didn't seem like something you could just casually walk away from.
You were in the middle of the Port Mafia's headquarters and you were rightfully, terrified.
The sound of two muffled voices pulled you away from your thoughts while you froze in your chair, realizing that they were right outside your door.
"You're fuckin' with me, right?"
"No, that's really where they're keeping her. She's going to be a fulltime member."
"A member?" it was the first man again, his voice full of shameless snark and volume as he laughed at the idea. "A Mafia member with no ability? C'mon, Akutagawa. Even Mori isn't that stupid."
"There's going to be more, she's just the first to show up."
Tension crept along your spine when both voices came to a curious stop, one quietly scolding the other before the heavy wooden door began to creak open.
A pair of azure eyes stared back at you, disheveled shoulder-length red hair draping off of one shoulder as he mumbled, "Holy shit."
The taller of the two, draped in a long black coat, tried to pry him away, but he shrugged him off with an irritated. "Chill out, I just wanna introduce myself to her."
The dark-haired man scoffed and continued down the hallway while his ginger companion closed the door behind him, leaving just the two of you looking back at each other skeptically.
Despite his height, he had a powerful demeanor. A blend of apathy and cockiness that exuded off of him as he carefully made his way towards you. "So, you're the new girl, huh?"
Your eyebrows furrowed when you looked back at him, your words suddenly stuck in your throat as his foot made contact with your desk.
You managed a nod, remembering the way Mori had advised you not to engage with the other Mafia members, but what were you supposed to do when you were suddenly locked in a room with one?
"God, we really can't just have one normal day around here, can we?" He sighed, almost seeming embarrassed as his shoulders dropped and he leaned against your desk in the spot next to you. "Stealin' girls out of bars? Tch, the hell are they thinkin'?"
His opposition to his boss' plan made you relax a bit. It was the first time all day that you thought you might make it out of here okay.
He picked up on your apprehension rather quickly, taking his hat off and setting it down before extending a gloved hand out to you. "Chuuya." He said simply.
You stared at him for another moment or two before introducing yourself, trying but failing to mimic his nonchalant tone.
"Hey," He said, lightly nudging your foot with his, "You're gonna be alright. I'm sure this gig will only last for a couple of weeks until they move on to their next big, idiotic idea."
"You think so?" It was the first time all day that you felt like you could breathe.
"Trust me, Mori's plans are always changing. He'll probably cut you a fat check for hush money and then send you on your way sooner than later. Just lay low in the meantime, yeah?"
Your eyes were still locked as you nodded at him again, giving him a feeble, "Okay... Yeah, I can do that."
"Good." He smirked, pulling himself away from your desk.
You watched him pause just before exiting the room. He turned around to face you again, his gaze landing a bit lower than your eyes this time.
"And maybe uh -" If you didn't know any better, you'd swear that you saw a flash of red flare across his cheeks. "Maybe don't wear that bra with a white shirt next time."
Out of all of the anxiety and fear that you'd been drowning in over the last few hours, your choice of outfit had been the very last thing you'd considered worrying about until just now.
You looked down, noticing what he meant as you saw the dark, lacy fabric of your Victoria's not-so-secret peeking through the white of your blouse. Your tits were pushed perfectly together, nearly on full display through the sheerness of your shirt.
He flashed you another faint smirk before clicking the door shut, once again leaving you to your own crippling thoughts as your head dropped into your hands.
What an absolutely mortifying first day.
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The next few shifts were a blur.
You'd clock in. Sit for what felt like an eternity in your bleak little office. Leave mid-day to grab lunch at a cafe across the street. And then head home 9 hours later despite the fact that you’d hardly done anything.
You'd learned to bring in books and cross-stich patterns to keep yourself busy throughout the day instead of rotting away at your desk. It wasn't an ideal situation, but if Chuuya was right and there really was a big check waiting for you around the corner, you'd decided that it was worth it to see this through. Because no matter how nervous you got each morning, the painful truth was that you couldn’t afford to turn down easy money.
By the end of the week, you found yourself doing more than just sneaking in romance mangas to make the job more bearable though. You were doing everything you could to gain back even a semblance of power.
If you had to be here, you had decided that you were going to make it everyone's problem.
With the ginger's words still fresh in your mind, you made it a point to wear darker bras. Tighter blouses. Shorter skirts that barely covered your ass. It had almost become an inside joke with yourself at what a distraction you'd become to the Port Mafia. Maybe couldn’t make these men fear you, but you could certainly make them trip all over themselves any time you entered the building.
You'd hardly been able to keep a straight face yesterday afternoon when Akutagawa's coffee fell from his hands and cascaded around him after he saw you walking down the hall in black knee-high stockings. You'd finally managed to make everyone here as uncomfortable as they'd made you and it felt good.
You were half-way through the iced matcha you'd picked up on lunch, sitting with your feet propped up on your desk as you continued to embroider the word "fuck" in pretty, cursive letters next to a pink and yellow flower when a knock arrived at your door.
You quickly stashed the circular cross-stitch pad in one of the desk drawers and straightened your back as Tachihara poked his head into your office. "Yo, new girl. Nakahara wants to see you."
Your brows knitted together as you looked back at him in quiet confusion.
No one had ever requested to see you in the time that you'd been here. Even in your attempts to disrupt their daily tasks, they'd still not bothered to learn your name. But now... you were expected to go see Chuuya... in his office?
"Why?" It was the only question you could think to ask.
"Dunno," Tachihara shrugged. "but I wouldn't keep him waiting. He's kind of an asshole." And with that, you were once again left alone and anxious.
You took a breath, standing up to smooth down the fabric of your skirt before venturing down the hallway.
You did your best to push Tachihara's warning out of your head, reminding yourself of the kindness Chuuya had shown you on your first day while your heels clicked across the marbled floor.
Maybe he wanted to tell you that he'd talked to Mori and that your time with Port Mafia was finally up. Maybe he wanted to hand deliver the check you'd so desperately been waiting for. Maybe he just wanted to see how you were doing. Whatever it was, you were holding onto hope that there wouldn't be any more bad news.
You let out a sharp exhale as you rounded the corner and found yourself standing in front of his office. You gave the door a light tap, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve when he finally appeared.
His eyes traced over you slowly, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he counted not one, not two, but three undone buttons along your blouse that revealed the deep-purple push-up bra decorating your chest.
"Get in here."
His tone was clipped, dripping with what felt like vexation as he closed the door behind you.
His office was much bigger than yours, adorned with high-rise windows that overlooked the city and pristine black marble flooring that matched his leather furniture. The room was dark, just barely lit by a lamp on his desk. You wondered how it was possible for him to get any paperwork done in here but then promptly realized that with his ranking, paperwork was probably far beneath his paygrade.
Still not entirely sure how to approach the situation, you hesitantly took a seat on the over-sized armchair across from his desk.
"Quick question," he said, standing in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, his voice still riddled with irritation. "What does the phrase 'lay low' mean to you? Because I can tell you right now, this ain't fuckin' it."
Your pupils widened, his words hanging heavily in the space between you.
Your mouth opened and then closed again, too focused on the way he was staring at you to form a proper response.
"Is it -" you wavered, mustering up all the courage you had to try and play this off as innocent confusion rather than what it actually was: sarcasm. "Is it my outfit?"
If looks could kill, you would've been 6 feet under.
Chuuya's eyes darkened, a flustered hand rubbing feverishly over his face as he struggled to keep his composure. He wasn't sure if you were trying to piss him off or if you were just genuinely the dumbest girl he'd ever come in contact with.
"Yes," He said with all the restraint he could possibly manage, his teeth nearly grinding together with each syllable. “The outfits are getting out of hand. You've gotta stop."
You were playing a dangerous game, but you were slowly starting to realize that you were... winning.
"What's wrong with them?" you asked, pretending to cover your chest in embarrassment.
You wanted to hear him explain it. Hear him tell you in his own words that you couldn't wear short skirts anymore because it was causing too many unexpected erections around headquarters.
"I -" The poor redhead looked as though he was going to have an aneurysm if you kept this up much longer.
He snapped his eyes shut and let out a frustrated exhale, his hand now bawled into a fist at his side. "Listen, a lot of the guys around here have... noticed you, okay? And I can't take one more day of hearin' those fuckin' assholes talk about how they caught a glimpse of your ass in the break room. Got it? I'll buy you some new clothes if I have to. Just please, no more shirts like this, alright?"
He was actually bargaining with you. Entering the third stage of grief as he tried so hard to keep his cool. To keep his eyes locked with yours and nowhere else. To explain all of this in the nicest way he could.
It was in that moment that you realized where the real source of his trepidation was coming from.
Hearing his coworkers ogle over you was probably annoying for sure, but the more damning, infuriating fact of the matter was that he was ogling over you too. And he was fucking tired of not being able to get any work done when he knew that you were right down the hall. He was pissed that he had to come into his office every morning and lock the door just so he could jerk himself off to the idea of you.
He was in so many words begging you to stop because he wasn't sure how much longer he could take seeing so much of your body without being able bend you over his desk like he did in his mid-morning daydreams.
He was losing - both his resolve and this game at an alarming rate.
"Hmm," you hummed, toying with a pen you'd found wedged between the cushion of his chair. "Well, I'm sorry. I just like feeling pretty before I come in. I didn't know it was creating such a problem for everyone."
The wheels in Chuuya's head were spinning.
Emotions weren't his strong suit and doing these mental gymnastics with you was making him need a cigarette.
"It's -" he sighed, groaning as he forced himself to backpedal. "It's not your fault. I mean, you do look pretty, y'know. It's just... distracting, is all."
It was hard to hide your smirk.
You'd be lying if you said you didn't think he was a bit distracting himself, but he didn't need to know that. Not yet anyway.
"Okay, well," you conceded as you began to stand up. "I’ll wear a turtleneck or something tomorrow then.” You shot him a small smile as you got to your feet, "Promise."
He looked marginally relieved by your understanding. "Sounds good." He huffed, rubbing at the back of his neck while following behind you as you made your way out of his office.
But just before you reached the door, you accidentally dropped the pen you'd been fidgeting with. Bending over without warning so that your ass was right in front of him, peaking out of your skirt as he walked straight into you, his hips suddenly meeting yours.
You thought he might actually kill you this time with the guttural noise of frustration that escaped him.
He grabbed you by your shoulders the second you were upright again, spinning you around so that you were forced to face him.
“Okay, seriously." He said between gritted teeth. "Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?"
Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath hitching in your throat as you watched the unfettered anger flicker through his blue eyes.
It was a stupid move, you knew that before you did it, but you didn't expect it to draw this much of reaction out of him. His restraint was lost. Composure long gone while he waited for you to say something with his face mere inches away from yours.
"Sorry," You lied, "It slipped out of my hand so I -"
"Bullshit." He snarled. "Enough with this innocent act. What do you want out of this, huh? For every guy in Port Mafia to want to fuck you? Is that what you're gettin' at here?"
"No." Your head shook before you even had time to think about what you were about to say. "Not everyone..." Your eyes were still glued to his. "Just you."
You didn't know what you were doing anymore or where all of this recent shamelessness had come from, but there was something about being here that made you feel like you could do anything. Be anyone. You weren't sure if it was the power or the crime or the ungodly amount of money that Port Mafia was raking in, but the collective feeling of chaos that these walls housed was finally latching onto you too.
You didn't even flinch when you said it, instead continued to stare at him unapologetically, noting the way his grip had tightened around your shoulder the longer he looked back at you.
"What?"
If the wheels in his head had been spinning before, they were now fully off the ground, exploding into the air as his gaze drifted along your face. Searching intently to make sure you were actually being serious this time before he went any further.
"You really want me to fuck you that bad?" he asked, the warmth of his mouth now ghosting yours.
The question went straight to your center, wetness seeping between your legs as you nodded back at him.
Truth be told, your midmorning fantasies while cross-stitching the last few days hadn't been much different than his.
The gravity manipulator's fingers were suddenly tangled into your hair, his body forcing your back against the door while his lips collided with yours.
"Y'know you could've just asked instead of doin' all this bratty shit, right?"
His mouth was warm, his movements somehow urgent and careful at the same time as his hands wandered along your curves.
You smiled against his lips, letting out a breathy, "I'm sorry." as his palm began to graze the inside of your thigh.
"No, you're not." He smirked, sucking your bottom lip in between his teeth before biting down with just the right amount of pressure. "But you will be."
You let out a small whimper as he placed his free hand under your chin, moving your head to the side so that he could continue his descendent down your neck.
His leg wedged itself between yours, brushing against your clit while his mouth worked along your collarbone.
You were too lost in the feeling of it all to realize that he'd been leaving a trail of meticulously placed bites down the nape of your neck. Bruises in the shape of his mouth that he knew everyone would see.
"Chuuya -" you tried to protest, but it was more of a moan than an objection. "You - fuck, you can't -" You grinded helplessly against the firmness of his leg. Hips rocking back and forth, desperately trying to gain friction while he kept on nipping away at you.
"What's wrong, babe?" he purred against your sensitive skin. "You're wearin' a turtleneck tomorrow anyway, remember?" his breath fanned across your chest as he ripped the remaining buttons off of your shirt. A gloved hand palming at your chest, sliding your bra down so that your tits were fully exposed for him before you felt his tongue glide across your nipple.
Tachihara was right, he was kind of an asshole. But for some terrible reason, you were living for it. Almost embarrassed by how bad you wanted him. Wriggling against him and riding his leg. Whining while you let him leave visible marks on you and destroy the only clothing you had.
"C'mere." He pulled his head away from your chest, swiftly grabbing you by the arm and leading you back to his desk. He picked you up with ease, shoving a binder aside to sit you down in front of him.
"Spread your legs for me." His voice was heady, eyes glossed over with lust as you complied with his demands.
He held his hand up to his mouth, removing his black glove with his teeth before pushing your skirt up and sliding your underwear to the side. He bent over slightly, running two rough fingers along your clit as he watched your nails dig into the edge of his desk.
"Fuck," he groaned, still not taking his eyes off of you. He'd barely done anything and you were already soaked, your pussy practically throbbing for him. “You really do want me that bad, huh?"
“T - told you.” You whimpered, your head tilting back as he drew slow, blissful circles around you.
He kept up the same pace, basking in the way you were so easily falling apart for him.
“Chuuya, please.”
A smirk tugged viciously at the corner of his mouth, slipping a finger into you this time as your walls swallowed him. "Please what, baby?"
You may have had him in the first half, but you were now on the losing end of this game. Forgetting how to speak altogether as you watched him part your legs even further, bending all the way down to rest his head between your thighs.
You moaned at the feeling of his tongue pressing against you. The heavenly lines he was drawing uppp and downnn your center with his middle finger still sliding in and out of you. He was generous in the way he handled you, making sure he didn't miss a single spot. Lapping and slurping up every bit of cum he could as he added in another finger. Groaning against you the louder you got for him.
The only word you seemed to be able to remember was his name, repeating it over and over while your nails lodged deeper into his mahogany desk and your body shamelessly grinded against the warmth of his mouth.
You were in a delirious daze, losing yourself completely to the way he was devouring you.
He could feel you getting close too, noting the frantic rhythm of your hips. The gorgeous, fucked-out noises you were making for him. The death grip your walls suddenly had on him. He knew you were right there, right where he wanted you.
"Chuuya, 'm - I -"
Your legs were locking around his head, shaking uncontrollably as your hand ran through his hair.
He'd never admit it, but he almost could've came at the sounds you were making alone. The pouty way that you called out his name each time his fingers plunged into you was almost enough to drive him over the edge. You were so pathetic and adorable and he was determined to make everyone in Port Mafia hear just how needy you were for him.
As much as he wanted to edge you for what you'd done to him, as much as he wanted to make you beg and plead for him to let you cum, he couldn't fucking pull himself away from you. He was just as lost as you were, drowning in your cunt and not at all wanting to be saved.
His tongue didn’t leave you until he was absolutely sure that you'd ridden out every last wave of your orgasm, still pumping his digits in and out of you until you couldn’t take it anymore.
He came up for air with an exhausted smile, wordlessly coaxing your lips apart with his thumb before bringing the two fingers he had fucked you with into your mouth. Letting you clean off the blend of slick and salvia the two of you had created together.
"See how fucking good you taste?" he panted. "I think this is gonna be a real problem for both of us."
An enamored shade of pink brushed across your cheeks as he dropped down onto the chair across from you, running a tired hand through his hair.
"At least I won't be here much longer, right?" You said, playfully kicking his leg with your foot.
"Oh yeah," he smirked. "That actually reminds me..." Your eyes widened as he shifted around to dig an envelope out of his pocket. "Mori wanted me to give this to you."
Your hands trembled, opening it as delicately as you could to make sure you didn't rip anything when a check for 1,490,200 yen fell into your lap.
"Think that'll be enough to buy yourself a shirt that fits?"
Your eyes snapped towards him in disbelief, your pulse ringing through your ears as you tried to process that you'd somehow made this amount of money in a little over a week.
"Is this -" You stammered, thinking back to what he had told you when you first met. "Is this like a severance check then? ...Hush money or whatever?"
"Tragically, no. Mori wants you to stay."
Your hand instinctively flew up to your neck, covering the love-bites that the redhead had left you with, horrified at the realization that everyone was going to see them. Even more horrified at the fact that they had probably heard how you’d gotten them.
"What?"
"Yeah, he said somethin' about you how you've been 'boosting the morale' around here."
Your head felt like it was going to explode.
You had not only been marked by Chuuya Nakahara, but you were now being asked to stay in Port Mafia.
You couldn't decide which was worse.
"So... that means..."
"Yep. We'll be seein' a lot more of each other." He confirmed while checking his watch. "But hey, you better get outta here, Rando and I have a meeting in 10 minutes."
You looked down at your lack of clothing, the spit and cum that was still stuck to your skirt, the obscenely noticeable bruises that he'd so proudly gifted you with.
"Give me your shirt." you demanded.
"Nah."
The grin he shot you was so cocky, so vile, so... hot.
"Chuuya." You whisper-shouted, biting back your own stupid smile. "Be so fucking for real right now, I can’t go out there like this.”
“Shoulda thought about that before you put on that skimpy-ass outfit I guess.” He shrugged.
You hopped off his desk, straddling him in his chair as you forcefully began to undo the buttons along his collar.
The room filled with suppressed laughter, neither one of you able to contain it anymore as he finally conceded, wrestling you off of him. "Alright, alright, chill. I have extras in here, hang on."
You both stood up, your eyes locked on him while he walked over to an expensive looking armoire in the corner of the room.
He pulled a white shirt that resembled the one you were wearing earlier off of a hanger and brought it over to you, guiding your arms up so that he could put it on.
His movements were calculated, almost thoughtful as he dressed you, adjusting it so that it covered up most of the damage he'd done.
"There." He said, double-checking his work. "Now get out of here before I decide to rip that one off of you too.”
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˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Part 2! ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
#chuuya smut#chuuya x reader#chuuya nakahara#bsd x reader#bsd smut#soukoku#bsd x you#bsd chuuya#remwrites#skk#someone please take my laptop away#chuuya nakahara x reader#chuuya nakahara bsd#nakahara chuuya#bsd x female reader
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You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader
a/n: hello!! this is my first fic i've ever uploaded so i'm pretty nervous, and i don't even know if anyone will read this but i thought i would contribute to the farleigh fics (also i'm obsessed with him)! this will be on an ongoing serious (hopefully) and i have a pretty interesting plot planned so stay tuned! i hope you enjoy and please leave feedback!!
word count: 3.3k
warnings: slight language
part 2, part 3, part 4
You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed the eccentric summers at Saltburn. It was rich and sultry, it felt free, like all your problems disappeared, like the world didn’t exist outside of the dreamy castle and neatly trimmed hedges. It was just you.
Well, you wish it was just you. You loved Felix’s family, they were always so kind to you. At this point, you were almost part of the Catton family in a way. Every summer, you traveled to Saltburn after a long and exhausting year of school. It was like a reward, you got through the year, so now you get to kick back with the rich people. But the Cattons just had this way about them. They were so out of touch, sheltered in their little rich lives, never having to work for anything just because of a title.
You certainly weren’t rich. Felix convinced you to apply to Oxford University with him, although everyone knew he was going to get in automatically due to the immense amount of wealth his last name carried. You spent countless hours in secondary school making sure to get amazing grades, throwing away your social life and free time. You ended up top of your class, earning a scholarship to Oxford.
It didn’t pay the whole tuition, but it helped, allowing you to have an average job to make some extra money before your first year. Now, it was your second year at Oxford, and you were comfortable.
For Felix, his time at Oxford was never exhausting or difficult. He preferred to spend his time partying, or at the pubs, drinking with all his friends. He never had to worry about his grades or schoolwork, because he didn’t have a scholarship to keep.
He always berated you for staying in every Friday and Saturday night, claiming that you always have your nose in some textbook. You didn’t like partying anyways, and you told him that.
“Please, just come out of your dorm for once. It’ll be fun, promise.” He used to beg, standing in your doorway. But you never ended up going, so finally he just stopped asking.
Besides, everytime you went out somewhere with Felix everyone assumed you two were dating, which earned you many cruel glances from almost every girl in the vicinity. You only saw Felix as a friend, a brother, in a way. He was always very empathetic despite his out of touch perspective on reality.
There was just one person you absolutely hated seeing every summer. Farleigh Start. Ever since you and Felix became friends, he hated your guts. You had no idea why. Maybe it was because you were the only other American around, since you grew up in the states before moving to England in your early teens. However, you couldn’t figure out why that would cause a rivalry between you two.
At Oxford, he always made fun of you for trying so hard. He just didn’t get it. He had everything given to him on a silver platter, a privilege of being close to the Catton family.
You tried to ignore him, but every single sarcastic or petty remark from his mouth made your blood boil with a rage you had never felt before. You couldn’t avoid him, because wherever Felix was, there was Farleigh. But at Saltburn, it was worse. You were forced to always be near him for two whole months and see that annoying little smirk on his face whenever he insulted you.
As you begin to organize your things in the guest room, you hear the shuffling of footsteps by your open door. You glance up from your suitcase, crouched on the floor, narrowing your eyes to see who is in the hallway.
It’s Farleigh. Of course it is, you think. He stands at your doorway, leaning against the frame, his curly hair adding to his height. He has this stupid grin on his face, like he’s about to say something to insult you.
“I had a feeling you were here. Everything just felt… annoying.” He has a cigarette in hand, taking a drag from it after his sentence. “Can you not smoke in my room, idiot?” You stand up, pressing a hand to your forehead in annoyance.
“Calm down. It’s not gonna kill you,” He crosses his arms and chuckles at you. “Afraid of a little smoke?” He teases in a mocking voice. “No, I just hate the smell. Get out, you’re taking up space.” You wave your hand, gesturing for him to leave as you approach him, ready to slam the door in his face if needed.
“Oh, I think you’re the one taking up space.” He lets out another breath of smoke, causing you to cough as it practically falls right in your face.
“Alright. Funny. Now leave,” You glare up at him, your brows furrowed in frustration. He scoffs and finally turns on his heel, walking down the hallway to Felix’s room, you assume. “So boring,” He mutters under his breath, but you heard loud and clear.
You decide to ignore his last little comment, groaning and closing the door, returning to your organizing.
A little while later, a knock sounds on your door. You climb off of your large bed and swing the door open, greeted by Venetia.
You both squeal and she immediately wraps her arms around you, nearly knocking you off of your feet. You and Venetia have become very close, and she’s almost like an older sister to you.
“Welcome back,” She grins, pulling away from the tight embrace. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” I reply, playing with a strand of her blonde hair. “Well, it’s been since last summer.” You two tried to stay in touch by texting or emailing every once in a while, but it was difficult with how busy you were.
“Yeah, I guess so.” She jumps on your bed and sits there like she’s waiting for you to tell her something.
“What?” You ask, giggling at the way she’s looking expectantly at you. “Have you found a boyfriend yet?” She questions, smirking mischeviously. “No! No, I don’t have time for that.” You shake your head, hanging up a dress in your closet.
“Oh my God, you’re killing me! You say that every single time. Have you ever heard of, like, a hook-up? One night stand?” She exclaims. “That doesn’t take any time at all. No commitment. Just trying something out,” Venetia throws her hands up.
“Well, I don’t want to right now. I have no interest in it.” You return to your suitcase, grabbing a pair of shorts and folding them, desperately hoping to change the subject.
You had experience in the things Venetia spoke about. Your first year at Oxford, you certainly lost control of a few things. You were just being young and dumb, confused and curious about what these college boys had to offer. It never brought you any real pleasure, just a distraction and a story to tell your girlfriends the next day at dinner.
You’d never had a real, long-lasting relationship either. It just didn’t interest you, especially since you were so focused on doing well in school and keeping your scholarship. Venetia stills insists on finding you a boyfriend or matching you up with a stranger.
“Look, I made that mistake my first year. Random dudes. I could’ve gotten an STD or some shit,” You throw the folded shorts into a drawer. “But it was fun, right?” She chews on one of her nails, watching you pace around the room.
“No. Not really. They didn’t do anything for me. Most of the time I was half asleep.” You shrug nonchalanty as Venetia laughs loudly. “Damn. Well, then you just found the wrong guys.”
“Then where do you find the right ones?” You ask, whipping around to face her. She shrugs. “I don’t know, they just kind of… flock to me. Like birds.” There’s a pause of silence before you both burst out in laughter. “Yeah, whatever.” You roll her eyes although you know there’s some truth to that statement. It was always effortless for her.
“I’m gonna find you someone. Trust me. You deserve the best of the best,” She grins and stands up, stepping out of your room. “I’ll see you at dinner!” She calls over her shoulder as she starts down the hall.
Dinner feels like nothing has changed. You all sit around the dining table having casual conversations about school and gossip while enjoying some traditional English food.
Unfortunately, you’ve been sat right across from Farleigh. You can barely glance up from your plate without catching one of his cold glares. You spaced out for a moment and as you zone back in, you realize the topic has shifted to relationships and dating.
Felix nudges your arm, pointing his fork at you. “What about you?” You glance over to him. “What?” You ask, unsure of what he’s questioning.
“Have you got a boyfriend yet?” He replies, tilting his head. You feel the rest of the table staring you down as you try to think of an answer.
“Uhh, no. Not yet.” You lower your head down, hoping your hair will hide your reddening face.
“She’s incapable of that,” Farleigh interjects quickly. “I mean, it’s never been easy for her.” He chuckles slightly, amused at himself. You raise your gaze to him, trying not to show how his comments just affected you.
“Farleigh, don’t be rude.” Elspeth shoots him a glare and shakes her head. Felix pats your shoulder. “It’s alright, really. All the guys at Oxford are dicks anyway. Don’t deserve someone as kind as you,” You can tell he pities you and is trying to make you feel better.
You look back to Farleigh. “Farleigh, I don’t remember the last time you dated someone. When was it, like, two years ago?” You tilt your head tauntingly and wait for his reaction, a smile tugging at your lips.
“I didn’t know you paid so much attention to my love life,” He shoots back. He’s skilled at hiding his reactions and it kills you.
“It’s just so bleak and desperate it’s hard not to notice it,” You pucker your lips to demonstrate fake sadness.
“Alright, you two. Calm down,” Felix holds up his hands, shaking his head.
“I think that she’s just focused on school right now. As she should be, I mean, that’s why you guys are there. To get an education.” Venetia quickly comes to your rescue, seated on the other side of you.
“Right. Right, I agree.” Elspeth adds, nodding aggressively.
Your eyes meet Farleigh’s again, and this time its an even sharper glare with that familiar taunting and mocking vibe. You feel yourself burn up with rage. You try to hold eye contact with him but you end up glancing away due to the heat creeping across your face.
Later that night, you are walking through one of the many dark hallways of the mansion. You still get lost sometimes, despite the many summers you have spent here. You stop to glance out a window, marvelling at the vast courtyard and landscape beyond, pale moonlight shining down and casting large shadows.
You continue walking quietly, attempting to get back to your room, but for some reason you realize you are on the other side of the house. These hallways have never been easy to navigate, especially at night. You curse under your breath and shake your head, continuing in the same direction.
You pass a door that is slightly ajar, and out of curiosity, you pause and take a few steps back. You peer through the crack, and you swear your heart drops to your ass when you realize this is Farleigh’s room.
He’s sitting on his bed, reading a book. You’ve never seen him so peaceful. His face is relaxed, instead of the usual scowl or sneer. After a moment of you staring at him, Farleigh suddenly closes his book and reaches over to place it on his bedside table, causing him to glance in the direction of the door. He looks away, then looks back, doing a double take as he seems to notice your presence.
Fuck. You wince as you step back from the door, trying to make up your mind on whether you should try to escape or just deal with the repurcussions of your creepy behavior you didn’t even mean.
But your legs won’t seem to obey what your brain is telling them to do. You are just frozen, stuck in place as Farleigh opens the door all the way.
There’s a moment of silence as he stares down at you, quirking an eyebrow.
“Well, well, well. Look who showed up at my door,” He crosses his arms in amusement, a smug smile across his face.
“I got lost. That’s all.” You run a hand through your hair while shaking your head. “And does getting lost also consist of watching me from outside my door?” He tilts his head. You shake your head quickly.
“No. That’s not what I was doing. Don’t flatter yourself,” You look back up at him and roll your eyes.
“Right.” Farleigh nods, not looking very convinced. “Never took you for a stalker.” He adds with a taunting smirk.
You let out a sigh of exasperation, turning away and facing the long stretch of the hallway. “Okay, I’ll be going now.” You raise a hand to wave before starting down the hall. “Goodnight!” Farleigh calls after you in a singsong voice, making you clench your fists in anger.
You didn’t really remember when the hatred between you two started. You did remember, however, the evening you two met.
It was your first summer at the Saltburn estate, and you were still in secondary school. You were extremely nervous since you had to be on your best behavior around these rich people. What were you even supposed to say? Or do?
You and Felix arrived together that afternoon, and after a tour of the mansion from Felix and an hour or so to yourself, you were going downstairs for dinner.
You walked in to the dining room, standing close behind Felix, before taking a seat at the long table next to him.
A tall boy with dark, curly hair sat on the other side of you. You looked over and smiled at him. You assumed that this was Felix’s cousin, Farleigh, since Felix had shown you a few pictures of them together.
He looked expensive. His jewlery, his clothes, the overall aura surrounding him seemed rich. It made sense, since he was considered a member of the Catton family. Felix informed you that his father paid for Farleigh’s education and everything else as a way to say sorry for whatever family drama had happened. You couldn’t remember the long story.
“Farleigh! This is my new friend from school,” Felix said as he introduced you. You offered a small wave.
“So you must be the cousin I’ve heard so much about,” You said. Farleigh glanced at Felix with a confused expression.
“She’s American?” He asked. Felix nodded and nudged you to continue talking. “Yeah, I grew up in the states. I moved here when I was thirteen,” You explained. Farleigh just stared at you, expressionless.
“Cool,” He said nonchalantly, as if he didn’t care about anything you just said. “So, are you two dating?” He asked, gesturing to you and Felix.
“Oh- No, no. Just friends,” You chuckled and Felix did the same after sharing a quick glance with you. You really were just good friends, you got along well, but no one believed it.
“Right.” Farleigh scoffed and rolled his eyes. Felix leaned in slightly and muttered, “Ignore him.” You couldn’t help but turn back to Farleigh.
“So, how did school go for you this year?” You asked with a smile. “Alright, I guess.” You could tell he was annoyed by your questions as he sighed and looked around.
“Okay, be a dick, then.” You muttered, giving up on trying to make conversation with him. At this, he sat straighter and turned to you. “And what are you, some scholarship kid? How did you get into a school like Westminster?” He furrowed his brows and his tone became harsh.
“Oh, by being smart and passing the entrance exam. Not everything is achieved with just money,” You replied back, maintaining your composure effortlessly.
“And you would know that,” He responded in a lowered voice, but you heard loud and clear.
You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, the rest of the family sat down at the table, meaning dinner was about to commence. All you could do was shoot knives at him with your eyes and hope he would notice. This was going to be a long summer.
The next day you sit with Venetia on the grass by the lake. She convinced you to come out with her to tan, and you figured it might be good for you considering how pale your skin is from staying indoors all the time. You hardly ever got any sun besides walking around on campus, but right now you were enjoying the warmth.
You lean back, using your forearms for support against the grass. You still feel a bit self conscious since you can’t remember the last time you wore a bikini this risqué.
“Why don’t you wear stuff like this more often?” Venetia asks, turning her head to face you. “You look like a model, seriously.” She grins and takes a sip of her drink.
You shrug. You glance out at the lake and admire the way the sun reflects off the surface, all the little ripples and overgrowth of leaves near the side.
“There they are. Hey, you two!” You perk up at Felix’s voice. You sit up a bit to look over your shoulder, but your excitement is soon diminished when you notice Farleigh walking next to him. You quickly turn your attention back to the lake.
You feel someone’s presence behind you. You throw your head back, looking up to see Farleigh peering down at you.
“You actually got her to go outside for once? Shocking,” He chuckles. You follow him with your eyes as he walks closer to the edge of the lake with Felix. “Leave her alone, Farleigh.” Venetia replies in an agitated tone.
A few moments later, Felix is taking off his shirt and tossing it to the ground. He runs a hand through his hair, then promptly jumps into the lake. Farleigh follows suit, and you know you shouldn’t be watching. But just like last night, you can’t take your eyes off of him.
Your eyes trail down his back, and you notice his muscles flexing as he takes his shirt off. You subconsciously bite your lip, then remember it’s fucking Farleigh. You mentally curse at yourself before peeling your gaze away, trying to focus on anything but him.
For some reason, you can’t shake the image of a shirtless Farleigh from your mind. You wished he had turned around so you could see the front of him, or even– No. Stop!
You decide to go inside before your thoughts get the best of you. You stand up abruptly, causing Venetia to look up at you.
“Where are you off to?” She asks, lowering her sunglasses. “Uhh… I’m just really hot. I’ll see you later,” As you start back, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder to see if Farleigh is watching you go.
You catch his gaze, and despite the heat, you shiver as his eyes trail up and down your exposed body. You can’t explain why your heart starts racing or why you want him to keep watching you. You hate him. You hate him, but you’re so curious about what it would feel like to have his hands on your waist or in your hair. You hate him so much, but you wonder how it would feel to be underneath him, completely under his control.
But you hate him, right?
#farleigh start#farleigh start x reader#farleigh saltburn#saltburn#x reader#farleigh x reader#farleigh x you
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2 part to: The engineer
It was a sunny morning in Monaco, and Yn Leclerc sat at the breakfast table with her family. Her mother, Pascale, had just finished serving them a delicious meal, and now they were engaging in light conversation before Yn's graduation ceremony.
"Je suis tellement fière de toi, ma chérie," Pascale said, placing a hand on Yn's arm. "You've worked so hard for this day."
Yn smiled gratefully at her mother. "Merci, Maman. I couldn't have done it without your support."
Her brothers, Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur, nodded in agreement. They knew how dedicated Yn had been throughout her engineering studies, juggling her academic responsibilities and her part-time job.
Lorenzo spoke up, his voice filled with admiration. "Yn, tu es vraiment la plus intelligente d'entre nous. We're lucky to have you as our sister."
Yn's heart warmed at her brothers' words. She had always been proud of their achievements in motorsports, but sometimes, she couldn't help feeling a pang of insecurity. Being the only sibling pursuing higher education, she had often felt left out of their racing world.
"Merci, Lorenzo," Yn replied, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "I'm proud of all of you too, but sometimes I wish I could have been a part of the racing journey as well."
Charles, who had become an established Formula 1 driver, reached across the table and grasped Yn's hand. "Yn, we love and support you in everything you do. Racing might be our passion, but we know how hard you've worked for your degree."
Arthur chimed in, his tone sincere. "Exactly! We wouldn't be where we are without your unwavering support and encouragement. You're an integral part of our success."
Yn's eyes welled up with tears, and she squeezed Charles and Arthur's hands. "Thank you, both of you. I'm so lucky to have such amazing brothers."
Pascale, ever the nurturing mother, rose from her seat. "Enough of the mushy talk, mes enfants! We have a graduation to prepare for."
The family spent the next few hours together, helping Yn get ready for her big day. Pascale, a talented hairdresser, skillfully styled Yn's hair, creating an elegant updo. She then applied subtle makeup to enhance Yn's natural beauty.
As Yn looked at herself in the mirror, she felt a sense of confidence radiating from within. She was ready to face the world, armed with her education and the unwavering support of her family.
The graduation ceremony took place in a grand auditorium, with friends, faculty, and fellow students gathered to celebrate their achievements.
"Y/N Leclerc, s'il vous plaît, venez sur scène" Y/N's name was called, a sense of accomplishment washed over her. She gracefully walked across the stage, accepting her degree with honors from her professor, Madame Moreau. The audience erupted in applause, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards her family, especially her late father, who had instilled in her a passion for knowledge.
Y/N took a deep breath and made her way to the stage. Applause filled the room as she accepted her diploma with a radiant smile. In that moment, all her hard work and sacrifices felt worth it.
After the graduates received their diplomas, Y/N was invited to give a speech on behalf of her class. Standing at the podium, she felt a surge of confidence.
"Mesdames et messieurs, aujourd'hui, nous célébrons nos réalisations en tant qu'ingénieurs. Je tiens à remercier ma famille pour leur amour et leur soutien sans faille. Nous sommes tous ici grâce aux sacrifices de ceux qui nous ont précédé. En premier lieu, je tiens à remercier ma famille pour m'avoir soutenue tout au long de ce parcours. Votre amour inconditionnel m'a donné la force de poursuivre mes rêves. Aujourd'hui, je suis fière de dire que j'ai obtenu mon diplôme d'ingénieur avec mention." (Ladies and gentlemen, today we celebrate our achievements as engineers. I would like to thank my family for their unwavering love and support. We are all here because of the sacrifices of those who came before us. First I would like to thank my family for supporting me throughout this journey. Your unconditional love has given me the strength to pursue my dreams. Today, I am proud to say that I have graduated with honors as an engineer)
Her voice resonated through the auditorium, carrying her message of gratitude and determination. She acknowledged the challenges they had overcome and the dreams they now pursued.
"Nous sommes la preuve vivante que peu importe d'où nous venons, nous pouvons atteindre nos objectifs avec passion et détermination. Ne laissez jamais les obstacles vous décourager, et souvenez-vous que vous n'êtes jamais seuls. Aujourd'hui, nous sommes ici ensemble, en tant qu'une famille d'ingénieurs" (We are living proof that no matter where we come from, we can achieve our goals with passion and determination. Never let obstacles get in the way of you, and remember that you are never alone. Today, we are here together, as a family of engineers)
As Y/N concluded her speech, the room erupted into applause. The pride on her family's faces was immeasurable. Y/N had not only graduated with honors, but she had also inspired her peers.
Her family erupted into applause, their cheers blending with the thunderous applause of the crowd. Yn could see familiar faces in the audience, including some F1 drivers who had become friends with the little Leclerc because of Charles such as Max Verstappen, with his signature grin lighting up his face, stood up and clapped enthusiastically, Lando Norris and Pierre Gasly joined in the applause, their support evident.
Yn's heart swelled with gratitude. She had found her place, not on the racetrack but among these incredible individuals who recognized her dedication and achievements.
After the ceremony, the Leclerc family gathered for a joyous celebration. Laughter filled the air as they toasted to Yn's success. The F1 drivers joined in, sharing stories and lighthearted banter.
"Merci d'être toujours là pour moi. Je vous aime tous. (Thank you for always being there for me. I love you all)” yn said raising her glass, and the room was filled with cheers, laughter, and heartfelt conversations.
As the evening wore on, Yn found herself in a quiet corner of the room, reflecting on the day's events. She could feel her father's presence with them, despite his absence. He had instilled in them the values of love, unity, and unwavering support.
Charles approached Yn, a soft smile gracing his face. "You did it, Yn. Dad would have been so proud."
Yn nodded, tears of happiness brimming in her eyes. "I know, Charles. Today, I felt his love surrounding us."
The Leclerc siblings shared a warm embrace, a moment of connection and understanding that surpassed words. In that moment, they knew that their father's spirit lived on within each of them, binding them together through their shared experiences and unwavering support.
And so, the Leclerc family celebrated into the night, cherishing the triumphs, overcoming the challenges, and reaffirming their unbreakable bond. Together, they stood as a testament to the power of love, support, and the pursuit of dreams.
#f1 imagine#charles leclerc imagine#arthur leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x sister!reader#arthur leclerc x sister!reader#leclerc!reader#f2 imagine#f1 drivers x reader#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic
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Wrestling with Heartache
Part 1/2
Kyle McCarthy fell madly in love at a time most college students did—in the middle of a hellish studying session for a class he despised. “Gotta make sure we get everything right…” he muttered to himself after chugging another full cup of ice cold coffee.
“Keep it together, Kyle,” said the young man right next to him. Kyle scowled but nodded. He looked over and wondered how a man so clearly drowning in exhaustion could still appear so beautiful.
His name was Michael Hayworth, top of the lightweight division. Despite it being his first semester on the team, he went undefeated in every meet. 'No doubt due to his disarming eyes,' thought Kyle. Once more, he got lost in those hazel whirlpools--
“Uh, Kyle? You still awake, buddy?” Michael said, still smiling as he handed Kyle another mug of coffee. “Here, this one’s still hot. It’ll wake you up. Just a half hour more and we should get some sleep.”
“O-Oh… uh, th-thank you.”
The following semester, Kyle applied to be a student manager for the wrestling team. After a tough interviewing period with coach Klaus Reynolds; a burly, no-nonsense man; Kyle spent more of his time with Michael despite sharing far fewer classes.
“Glad to see you got the job,” said Michael after a particularly sweaty day of practice. Just about the whole team was winded and groaning. The heat and dry air made their sweaty singlets stick uncomfortably close to their tight and toned bodies. However, even with the feast for the eyes that lied before him, Kyle’s gaze was still drawn to Michael and his radiant smile. “You’re the reliable kind, Kyle. Know you’ll do great!”
‘You’re wonderful, Michael,’ thought Kyle as he gathered up the used singlets and towels that the team had used the day before. Michael was truly one of a kind, and that only drove Kyle to possess such a man as he. Of course, Michael didn’t show much interested in a lanky and awkward guy like Kyle. Based on the dating app profile Kyle had found, Michael enjoyed bigger and heftier men.
‘Standing by Michael’s side,’ Kyle thought to himself, ‘would simply have to do.’
And it did… for a time. With each passing session, Kyle’s adoration and infatuation grew and grew. And with such a burning love came a frigid envy. The camaraderie that the wrestling team had with each other was something that Kyle was thankful for, but also deeply territorial towards. Each passing glance, loving touch, and accidental caress ignited heart pound with vitriolic and violent passion.
“Passion is a flame. It can provide or engulf,” Kyle’s roommate, a man at least a decade his senior, said. Though his hands were busy with the night’s meal, his ears were always free for friends. Armed with the patience of a monk and the shaggy hair of a hippie, Namba was a university student who applied late into the education system and studied to become a therapist. His enormous hair, rare for a man of his lineage, hid his eyes and gave him a unique appeared. Those that spoke with him often revealed far more than they intended, for they were able to speak to Namba without any judging eyes to put them on edge.
At least, that was Kyle’s hypothesis. For him, the lack of eye-contact with Namba made it easy for him to speak his mind. Long and awkward discussions about sexuality, lust, and just dirty talk were easy with the nonchalant Namba, who lived with a laissez-faire attitude.
“Please, continue,” said Namba, gesturing to Kyle. “I am curious to learn about your heartaches,” he continued without a hint of sarcasm.
“Wish I was a bit more like the other wrestling team members,” said Kyle as he washed the leftover dishes and arranged the utensils. Managing the equipment of the team was easy with a multi-tasking mind like his. He often joked that his hands had their own brains, but all three of them disagreed too much to make him a genius.
“So your wish is to be someone else?” said Namba as he set down a large pot of… something on the small kitchen table. Whatever it was, it smelled good.
“Hmm, I suppose. Michael’s so close to other members—especially guys like Nicholas or Zack. Oh man, now that guy." Kyle was about to go on a rant on the stoic man, but Namba warned him about tangents.
"Right, right," said Kyle, getting back on topic. "When me and the other team members talk, it’s nice. We get along fine. But it reeks of platonic interactions. Meanwhile, it always feels like the team members’ touching and groping each other, even when they play it off like jokes, last a little too much time.”
“Perhaps your passion is clouding your judgment? Or do you think it’s focusing your sight on the true enemy?”
“Calling them ‘enemies’ is a bit much… ‘Rivals’ is a bit more appropriate. We still get along.” Aside from the icy Zack and perhaps the stern and stoic coach Reynolds, Kyle could not recall any particularly bad interactions with the other team members. They thanked Kyle for doing work and approached him with friendly attitudes. It wasn’t bad at all, but somehow still disappointingly saccharine. Kyle wasn’t friends with any of the wrestling team members; they were merely coworkers. He could shoot the breeze, but not his shot. “If they were my enemies while I did their laundry and managed their stuff, then…”
“You’d be like those Victorian era heroines who secretly plotted the death of her lord while starching his clothes.”
“...A morbid comparison, but yes.”
“Well, my dear bed companion—“
“Please just use ‘roommate’ or ‘friend.’”
“—I have the solution to all our problems. Please, dine with me. A full stomach will calm your nerves.” Kyle shrugged and ate quickly. Eating from stress wasn’t anything new for him. He had gained a few pounds after entering university, and sadly most of it was not from muscle despite his semi-frequent visits to the gym.
“Dunno if I can have a ‘solution’ to this problem. Maybe I can work out some more,” said Kyle. He flexed a thin arm, grimacing as he saw the lack of real muscle. It had become far less flabby, but his genes and metabolism really let him down. At most, he could probably develop the body of a twunk if he went five days a week.
“That would be the preferred way, but younglings like you aren’t the type to wait around—and neither am I. It’s why I created this concoction.” Grinning, Namba gestured for Kyle to follow. The two left their dishes in the sink and made their way towards their next door neighbors. Often populated by a pair of twins and a friend, it seemed like the only one home at the time was Tim McDonald.
He was about Michael’s age, but had the personality of a man twice that. His round eyes comfortably slotted into a sour scowl or sneer. The trend continued as he answered the door to Namba’s loud and obnoxious knocking. “What?” he said, eyes narrowed as they peered back and forth between Michael and Namba.
Michael had never seen Tim crack a smile all semester. Most of the time, Tim shot one or two word responses and preferred to mind his own business. From what Michael had gathered, Tim was a business major with major ADHD. He wasn’t flunking, but it was clear that the time spent keeping his head above the academic waters soured his personality.
“Do you mind if we borrow some sugar?” asked Namba. “We have guests over and I forgot to purchase some more. My nan refuses to drink her tea without at least three sugar cubes’ worth.” Tim rolled his eyes, muttered something about old men, and slipped inside to look. While Tim’s back was turned, Namba stepped inside and snuck up behind him.
“Wha—“ Kyle began to say before Namba turned around and placed a finger over his lips before winking. He then bent his knees and jumped onto Tim.
Instead of an impact, Namba’s lithe yet hairy body sunk into Tim’s huskier frame. Tim let out a choked cry, back arching as a whole man slipped inside of him. He grabbed onto the kitchen counter, body convulsing as a few changes began to appear. His short, blond hair turned a shade darker and a big shaggier. Bangs that were usually combed back grew and covered his eyes much like Namba’s.
After a few moments of struggling, Tim let out a large, relaxed sigh. “Mmm, worked like a charm.” Spinning on the ball of his foot, Tim grinned and pointed at himself. “And that’s exactly the kind of gift you can do now, kiddo.”
“I… wha…?”
“It’s me, Namba!” he said. He slipped off Tim's shift and began to pose. "Mmm... this youthful body feels so much easier to move in that my own!"
After a bit of panic and a few questions, Namba detailed his plan to Kyle.
~o~
Three days. That was how long the concoction would remain in both of their systems. After that, they would need to prepare new broth. “Is this not what you wanted? To grow close to that man? Well, for a while at least, you can.” The effect of the concoction would allow one to ‘merge’ their soul with another body for a limit of 72 hours. No more. “It’s a small reprieve, but I believe you deserve it after such hard work. Perhaps it’ll even give you clues as to how to naturally grow closer to Michael with your own charm. Charm that you do possess, despite your protests.”
“But,” Kyle had asked, “What do you get out of it? You said this would solve a problem you had as well.”
“Ah, you see… I have little money to spare, and I ended getting a bit too invested at the slots and borrow some money from friends, so…”
“You’re worse than the freshmen.” Kyle had told him.
‘Becoming someone else,’ thought Kyle as he made his way to the laundry room. It was another Friday night, and he had been unable to decide on what to do with the gift Namba had granted. ‘Michael…? No. The coach? Maybe…?’
All Kyle wanted was to be close to Michael, if only for a day. Taking over one of the other wrestlers was the way to do so, but finding and isolating one of them would be the hard part.
However, luck would soon turn for Kyle as he made his way to the laundry room, the singlets and jockstraps of the team in tow. In the room, wearing only a pair of white briefs and little else, was a member of the wrestling team. Zackary Kuvaev. Tall, imposing, and often wearing a scowl on his stone-like face. When Kyle into the room, Zackary merely grunted in acknowledgement while glaring down at one of the laundry machines.
“Um, hello, Zack. Uh… run out of clothes…?”
“Roommates. Prank. Last clothes stained.” Only rarely did Zack’s voice and face betray much emotion. The only time that occurred was often when Michael wrapped an arm around the stoic Zack’s shoulders and…
Michael…
Zack continued to glare at the machine, not paying the slightest bit of attention towards Kyle. ‘He’ll regret that.‘ Kyle held no real malice towards Zack, but the envy and territorial rush of emotions in his chest overruled any sense of guilt he might’ve had.
Hesitation thrown to the wind, Kyle broke into a sprint and dived into Zack’s back. The older wrestler let out a startled gasp as another man suddenly fought him for dominance over his own body. No words were spoken, only shouts and groans as Zack collapsed onto his knees, clutching and clawing at his chest. “AHH…! Ahh…! AAAHHH!” Small patches began to sprout throughout his formerly smooth body, particularly around the arms, chest, legs, and armpits. His sharp and stoic face turned the slightest bit softer and rounder. Hawk-like eyes began kinder and his scowl became a look of pure wonder.
“It really did work…” muttered Kyle as he looked down at his beefy arms and masculine hands. The difference truly should’ve been just a few pounds of muscle, but the sheer energy and strength that coursed through his body was borderline euphoric. “Oh wow!” Kyle stood up on his toes and marveled at how graceful the movement felt. He paraded around the room, admiring each swing of his arms and his powerful gaits. Never Kyle’s life did he believe that his glutes could be so powerful.
“Everytime he touches me, I feel electricity course my body. He’s wonderful. He’s divine. And I will make him mine.” Plunging smooth yet muscular arm into the laundry hamper, Kyle dug around until he found the singlet labeled Michael. With a madman’s grin, Kyle forced Zack to say, “Until then, I’ll have to satisfy myself with just this.”
It was a few size too small, but Kyle appreciated the singlet squeezing into his well-built body. He flexed and let out an involuntary moan. Zack’s cock, freely leaking, stained Michael’s singlet even further. “It smells just like him,” said Kyle. He squeezed and rubbed against the rubbery fabric, muttering Michael’s name the whole time. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Your scent, your smile, your slightly crooked grin, the kind way you speak, the way you move… oh…!” Just the thought of approaching Michael in such a performance drove Kyle’s mind to the peak of insanity. And also forcing Zack to do it all? Acting as a cum dumpster for the two of them? “OH…! Nnngh…. AAAARRRRGHHH!”
Kyle let out a guttural groan using Zack’s voice as his cock pumped load after load into Michael’s used singlet. Kyle could’ve sworn he saw white as the torrents of cum burst from Zack’s abused dick. His knees, already sweating and wobbly, gave out on him as he collapsed onto a messy, white-stained pile. His fingers, toes, and thighs continued to twitch as he rode the last of the climax. “Haahh...Haaaahhh…!”
Once Zack’s breathing was under control, Kyle stood back up and stretched. “That was… amazing…!” Kyle flexed Zack’s muscular arm again, still surprised at his control over him. “All right, let’s get this done!” He said, wearing a grin that Zack would never be caught dead showing off.
While nowhere near as intense as the masturbation, using another body while getting errands done felt erotic as well. Kyle bounced through the room, enjoying the way his body would gently sway with each movement.
Not too long after he finished doing the laundry, he received a response from Michael. “Finished chilling with some friends at the rec center. Just relaxing in my room rn. U?”
Cock already erect, Kyle told Michael that he was free to hang out. It took a few minutes, but Michael replied with a, “Sure! :D”
“Fuck yes!” Kyle cried out, pumping his fist high into the air as soon as he saw the message. He rushed through the campus, running full-sprint with Zack’s powerful legs as he made his way to Zack’s room to drop off the remain clothes.
Once he arrived, he quickly dressed Zack’s body in clothes more suited for the night air, but he also made sure to wear a jock-strap underneath. From what Kyle could gleam from Zack’s memory, he knew that Zack and Michael had fooled around on more than one occasion.
There was a streak of envy that rushed through Kyle’s heart, but he quickly reasoned that his ability would mean that Michael could belong to him.
Him and only him…
“Hey, nice to see ya,” said Michael. He wore a loose wifebeater and a pair of shorts that seemed so easy to tear off. Kyle put on a restrained smile and nodded. “Well, c’mon in! I swear, you act like such a robot sometimes,” Michael said as he pulled Zack inside, chuckling the whole time. Kyle could’ve sworn he had the smile of a cherub as he spoke. On and on, they chatted while sitting around in Michael’s empty apartment. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but…
Just being by Michael’s side, somehow for that night it satiated Kyle. They spent the night together playing video games, drinking some cheap beer Michael had in his fridge, and enjoying some bad Adult Swim shows. Throughout the night, Kyle intended to make moves on Michael and make him his own. And yet, some part of him was unable to commit. Even as the clock grew closer to 2:00 in the morning, Kyle was hardly able to do more than a simple flirt.
‘This isn’t how I figured it would go,’ Kyle thought to himself while Michael used the bathroom. His fantasies of pining Michael to the wall with Zack’s impressive physique evaporated into little more than idle dreams. Every time he would even think about making a move, some part of him withdrew. Was a fear of showing affection? Was Zack’s body doing something to him? And yet, when he stared into Michael’s charming smiles or soft chuckles, Kyle felt his heart flutter once more.
Then why? More than anything, Kyle wanted to love Michael, but…
“Hmm? Anyone I’m interested in?” Michael echoed. Just before the night wrapped up, Kyle, hoping that his desperation wasn’t quite so obvious, asked Michael once he left the restroom. A few beers went a long way to loosen the tongue. Kyle himself was fully well aware of that.
“Um… well, I kinda prefer older men,” began Michael. Grinning, he said, “Someone like Coach Reynolds, actually. Don’t tell anyone, though!” he chuckled like a schoolgirl gossiping about her friends. “He’s really hot. Someone like him—oh man, a thick and tough man like him is the best.”
‘Ah, so that was it.’
“How come you’re suddenly so interested?”
“No reason. Good luck on your love conquests., friend”
Michael chuckled again before turning over and lying down on the couch. “Good luck to you too…” he said. The sleepiness was audible in his voice. So he was that type of drinker. Kyle could feel his chest grow heavy as he felt a sudden urge to protect him. With just a bit of alcohol, anyone could take advantage of poor Michael. He really needed to remain straight and make sure that nobody laid a finger on his friend.
Kyle shook his head. Where had those thoughts come from? It was as if someone had turned a valve and allowed a flood of emotions and memories to fill Zack’s head. Were these… Zack’s inner thoughts? It made a certain amount of sense. Somehow, the thoughts didn’t “sound” like Kyle’s inner narrator—whatever that meant. He couldn’t explain, but it was a distinction that he could make.
“You’re too defenseless,” said Kyle. With slight hesitation, he placed a hand on Michael’s bare arm, and lightly rubbed it. It was only a slight touch, something that Zack had most likely experience many times over, but it was enough. Just for tonight, it was enough for Kyle.
“Your love. I hope it comes true.” Since starting university, Kyle had wished for someone to utter those words for him. At the very least, he could pretend that it was truly Zack giving his support.
“It’s… It’s not going… anywhere…” muttered Michael. Soon after, his gentle snoring felt heavy on Kyle’s borrowed ears.
‘Don’t be sure about that, Michael.’
#male possession#there's some more left but I haven't had the time to write it yet#this was originally a commission I'm releasing since it took me like#months to write#anyway part two sometime this month#maybe#male body possession
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Wherever You Are (Mason Mount x Reader)
Song Inspo: Wherever You Are - 5 Seconds of Summer (I recommend you to listen to the song while reading this fic!
Word Count: 1392
Warnings: Angst, maybe a little fluff
A/N: This is my first fic after I stopped writing for almost 7 years so apologies for possible crappy storyline and ending or any mistakes I might've not realized! Also this one is for my girls in Puli gc (I just found out some of us are also 5sos fans 🤭) – UPDATE: PART 2
“Mason! I got THE call! I got the job!!!” You said loudly as you were jumping up and down out of happiness like a little child. Mason’s eyes widened when he heard you and came running to you to give you a hug, then he picked you up, swung you around, and gave you a sweet and passionate kiss on the lips. “See!? I knew you’re going to get it Y/N! I’m so proud of you!” His excitement was crystal clear and you loved to see how he reacted. The day you’ve been waiting for has finally come. You got your dream job in your hands. You’ve always wanted to work in fashion industry. You went to college and earned a bachelor’s degree in Fashion, and you basically have prepared your life for this career. You’d applied to multiple companies and landed some interviews but you never got an offer call... Until today. But the thing is... You had to move to America. The company you’re going to work for is in New York City, and now that you’ve got accepted meaning you had to relocate there. You suddenly felt your mood shifted, you were incredibly happy before and now you weren’t sure what to feel anymore. Your boyfriend for 5 years is here in London, and obviously since he's a football player who is currently playing for Chelsea he has to stay in London. You now realized you have to talk about your relationship’s future with Mason because you two are about to live in two different countries, thousands miles apart.
You grabbed a chair, sat down quietly and tried to find the courage to have a (possibly) difficult conversation with Mason. “Mase, I think we need to talk.” “I know what you’re about to say,” he said as he sat down next to you then held both of your hands, “you know I love you so much and I know this job is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, you absolutely deserve this more than anything in the world. I will always be yours no matter where you are, you have nothing to worry about.” “But are you sure? We’ve never done this long distance thing before. There’s going to be actual distance between us. We won’t see each other every day and also the 5-hour difference... Those things don’t sound easy to me at all.” You kept looking down because you were afraid you would start crying the second you saw his eyes. “It’s obviously won’t be easy Y/N, but don’t you think it’s worth to try? I don’t want to give up on us and I hope you don’t too.” You could hear his voice was breaking when he said it, and of course you didn’t want to give up as well. “Hey,” he said softly as he touched your cheeks and leaned down a bit “look at me. We’re gonna be okay. Nothing has to end, right?” You looked up, locked your eyes with him, let out a little smile and replied “You’re right. We’ll be just fine.” He kissed your forehead and your lips, and you heard him saying “We don’t have to say goodbye.”
---
Two weeks had passed and it was time for you to leave. You knew this day would come but you still didn’t feel ready. You spent most of these past 2 weeks with Mason; you both did everything you could together before you move away. You two were pretty much in denial about your relationship situation and just wanted to focus on spending more time together. Since most of your belongings had been packed and shipped to NYC a few days before, for today’s flight you only brought one backpack and 2 suitcases with you. Mason helped you packed your things and he was the one who drove you to the airport. On the way, you two acted like nothing big was happening; you had a fun little carpool karaoke and laughed at how horrible you both were when singing, told stupid jokes to one another and were talking about other things but you both were clearly trying to avoid anything about the future – your futures, separately. You finally arrived at the airport and Mason walked along with you until the front gate. “Well,” he said as he held your hands tight, “I guess it’s time for you to go M’Lady.” You laughed a little, tried to hold back your tears. “Yes, yes it is, M’Lord. I’m so glad you’re here, Mase. I uh, I... I’m sorry I have to leave.” You started breaking and before you know it your tears had fallen down, you could no longer pretend this wasn’t happening anymore. You saw how Mason’s big smile – which is and will always be your favourite smile in the entire world – just disappeared, now replaced by a frown, and you could tell he was trying so hard not to cry. “Y/N...” “Mason, I know you said we don’t have to say goodbye, but I don’t think I can do that. I love you...” you paused because you had to catch your breath from all the crying. “Y/N, please sto-“ “I really, really love you Mase. I don’t want to say goodbye, but it seems like the right thing to do. It is the only right thing to do, no matter how hard it may be but you and I both know it’s for the best...” You could feel how his hands were cold and trembling because he was still holding yours, then he let go and wiped his tears off his face. You saw his red, puffy eyes filled with tears, and it broke your heart even worse. He didn’t say a word for a minute as he was trying to calm himself down before saying anything. “Y/N, I’m not... I’m not ready to let you go. I’m not ready to let us go...” He took one deep breath before continuing, it was really hard for him to say what he felt at the moment. “You are the only girl I’ve ever loved, Y/N. You are the most special girl in the world and I don’t know if I will ever find another woman like you. But as much as I hate saying this, you’re right. It’s time to...” he paused then he bit his bottom lip “uh, to say... Goodbye.” You felt like you were so close to falling down on your knees when he said those words, you knew it was coming but you didn’t know how badly it would hurt you. “Maybe one day we’ll be together again, who knows?” you smiled a little when he said that. You and Mason then gave each other the longest and tightest hug, none of you wanted to let go. You both whispered to each other “I love you always”, he kissed the top of your head and released the hug after you heard the boarding call for your flight. You both wiped the tears off each other’s faces, then leaned in for one final kiss. “Okay,” as you fixed your backpack “I have to go now. Goodbye Mase...” as you waved at him. Still crying, he forced a smile and waved back at you. “Goodbye Y/N.”
---
It has been 3 months since you left London. You love your job so much and you’ve settled well in NYC. You obviously miss everyone in London but you wouldn’t change a thing. Well, maybe one thing... Since the last time you saw Mason you still couldn’t stop thinking about him. About the what ifs, should’ve beens, could’ve beens, everything. You couldn’t help but wondered: has he moved on? Or is he still waiting for you? You don’t know and you don’t want to know. Checking out his contact on your phone has become your before-bed routine. You wanted to call him to hear his voice, to tell him everything, to hear about his day like how it used to be. You really wanted to tell him how much you still love him but you don’t have the guts to. You’ve heard about how nothing lasts forever, yet your love for Mason is still strongly there within your heart. Every night, you would look at old photos of him on your phone and you always told yourself: “Mason, it will always be you... Wherever you are.”
#mason mount#mason mount x y/n#mason mount x reader#mason mount angst#mason mount fic#mason mount fanfic#mason mount imagine#Spotify
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This is such a dumbass question to ask but what sort of stuff do you learn as a lawyer? And what type of shit do you have to study for a bar exam? Just read a few stories on it and sounds like fucking HELL — if this the sorta question you don't wanna answer, thats totally chill with me, I just like knowing what sorta coursework certai. Qualifications make you go through.
Ahhh okay, so explanation of the American legal education incoming.
So first thing — you have to have a four year bachelor’s degree in almost every state to even apply for law school. So four years of university are required before you can apply. Law school itself is 3 years, so in total, you’re in school for seven years.
Your first year you have absolutely no control over your schedule — every first year at every law school takes the same courses. You have no say over what time your classes are either — my first year, I was in class from 9-4:30 every day, with roughly an additional 6 hours or reading an assignments to do after. You quite literally cannot work during your first year of law school. These are all the courses you take during your first year:
Civil procedure (I and II)
Contracts
Constitutional law ( I and II)
Legal research and writing (I and II)
Property
Criminal law
Torts
All of these courses are tested on the bar exam that you have to take once you’ve graduated in order to be a lawyer. It’s not enough to graduate from law school — surprise!! You get to pay $5k-ish to re learn everything you’ve spent three years learning for a two day examination that literally determines your livelihood lmao. It’s very stressful — a lot of law firms make their job offers contingent upon passing the Bar, so it’s an incredibly high stress time and you get a grand total of six weeks to study.
Your second and third year are a bit more flexible. However, there are 17 Bar-tested subjects. 11 of them are absolutely tested (the first year subjects + evidence and criminal procedure I and II), but the other six are a toss up. You have no idea what’s going to be tested until exam day. So you can take classes your second and third year that are “Bar classes” but it’s not recommended you do so because you’ll hate yourself. The Bar subjects are the hardest and most dense courses.
My second and third year allowed me to explore my interests more — so intellectual property was a big one. I was also on law review and had two very big and very time consuming fellowships (I was one of 2 students in my entire state to get one fellowship that I had to go through the ringer to get lmao). Your second and third years are more about setting yourself up for a job after law school and it’s SO competitive. Like cut throat, even among friends. I hated that aspect of it lmao.
And then like I said — despite taking an entire semester’s worth of these classes and passing the exams (which average 3-5 hours for each exam but I had exams as long as 10 hours STRAIGHT), you get to do it all over again for an exam that’s only offered twice a year and literally determines whether you can be a lawyer!! The Bar exam was the worst experience. I was isolated for an entire summer, studying 10-16 hours a day and utterly cut off from loved ones. It’s a dark time lmao but I’m so glad I found solace here, with you all. Truly this blog kept me sane.
The exam itself is two days, and each day is a full eight hours. It’s designed to be a mindfuck and it’s designed for people to fail. It’s terrible!
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𝒮𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓇𝑜𝓌 𝑜𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝒶𝓌𝓃~𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝑒𝓇 2
Warnings: angst (anxiety, jealousy, overthinking)
word count: 2,133
"Daniel?" You turned and saw him, your heart stopping but also racing at the same time.
"Oh my god Birdie it is you!" He practically jumped over the counter to get to you faster. He embraced you in a tight hug. "Gosh I've missed you, how have you been? Sammy why didn't you tell me she was in town?"
From the outside, the exchange would've looked like the two of you had been in a long distance relationship and you had just surprised him. You had your arms around his neck and face buried in the crook of his neck, while he had his arms around your waist and was spinning you around. While that was certainly not the case, Sam couldn't help but notice how Daniel's face lit up when he saw you. The two often spoke about their feelings towards you. Sam only ever seeing you as a sister after knowing you since you were only five. Daniel however saw as you as much more than a friend. He'd known he loved you since freshman year but only thought of it as a friendship type. Until your junior prom when he desperately wanted to be your date rather than your boyfriend at the time.
"She just got back into town a couple hours ago. Her mom caught me at the grocery store yesterday and told me she would be in town for a while.", Sam said while Daniel placed you back on the ground, making sure you were steady before letting go of your waist. "Well, either way I'm glad you're back, Birdie. It's been way too long."
"I agree, it has been way too long. I'm actually here to stay though. I'm not leaving town any time soon. In fact I actually applied here earlier today." You watched as his eyes lit up, his smile growing bigger. "Don't worry Bird, I'll make sure you get the job."
You blushed every time he said the nickname he had given you in freshman year. You weren't quite sure when or how he came up with the nickname but you loved it. He was the only one to ever call you Birdie but you didn't mind at all. It quickly became the only thing he called you, choosing to not use your real name at all. You missed hearing it so often.
"Thank you Danny. I missed you way too much. I'd be happy to work with you."
🕊️🕊️
After two weeks of being back in Frankenmuth, and it felt as if no time had been spent away at all. Every night since you got back you had dinner with either Sam or Daniel. Or even the both of them. But today the three of you decided to do brunch at Honey Bee's instead as Sam had to be in the studio working on an album he had been producing that evening. It would also be your first day working at New Moon. Although Daniel was not there, the owner was and showed you how to work the register, where everything was and where everything goes. You were told that you would do mostly tarot readings for now but once you got comfortable and could work by yourself you would be running the store on your own two days out of the week.
Lilith showed you to the room you would be doing tarot readings, it was small space just big enough for a small table a shelf and some smaller decor. "You're free to decorate in here however you like. Just make sure you have multiple tarot decks." You nodded, making a mental note to search for some decor once you got home. "Oh and we have a free roam cat here. Her name is Greta, I take her home on weekends so she's not alone. You're free to dress her up if you'd like." Lilith gave you a warm smile before asking you to restock the herbs.
Once you were home and ready for bed, you began scrolling instagram when a notification came through,
danielrwagner has requested to follow you
He had never been one for social media in high school, or at least rarely used it. You approved his follow request and followed him back before he messaged you.
danielrwagner: Heyy! Me and Sammy are gonna hang out tomorrow afternoon, and I wanted to ask if maybe you wanted to come over a little early and spend some time together?
morningbird: Hii! I would love to spend some time with you! What time should i be there?
danielrwagner: Umm around 2:30ish I'd say would be a good time. Sam won't be here until four but that still gives us plenty of time :)
morningbird: ill be there for sure!
The only notification you received from him other than his address was that he liked the message. You looked through his profile, seeing as it was a different one than the one he had in high school. His most recent post was from three months prior. "Spent the night with a lovely lady<3" It was a picture that seemed like it was taken during a date, but what you didn't realize you felt was jealous. Jealous of a girl he met while you had been away at school. It's not like he liked you, right? Thats what you told yourself. You decided it was best to go to bed at that point. Setting your alarm and putting your phone on do not disturb, you quickly found yourself slipping into slumber.
"Hey! You made it.", Daniel told you with a shy smile on his face. "Birdie, theres umm...there's something I wanna talk to you about." He was anxious. You could hear it in his voice, but why was he so nervous. "What is it Danny? Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine don't worry. Can I get you something to drink? Or a snack?" You smiled and nodded wondering why he was so nervous. You went over all the possibilities of what it could be. Did he not wanna be friends even after how excited he was to see you? Or was it that he was moving away and wanted to make sure you would be okay?
Daniel retuned momentarily and was a little more collected. He brought you a glass of water and some strawberries. "Just a heads up Sam's on his way. He got out of work early. But Bird, I wanna be completely honest with you about something. I don't know how to say but I...Birdie I-"
"Hey Dan! Will you help me with the food? I stopped and got all of us something to eat since I wasn't sure if you or Y/n had eaten yet today." Sam called from the front of the house. Danny looked visibly upset at Sam for walking in, but why?
DANNY'S POV
"Damnit Sammy, I wanted to talk to her. Before you got here." you spoke quietly enough so Y/n wouldn't hear. You were nervous enough as it was. "I'm sorry, would you like more time? I can step out."
"No I'll just take her to dinner a different day or something. I'm so scared to tell her. I mean what if she doesn't have the same feelings towards me?" Sam gave you a sympathetic look. He knew something you didn't. "Do you guys need any help?", Y/n stood at the door. "No, we've got it. Thank you for offering though.", Sam gave her a smile and walked past her. Given the opportunity she took it. "What were you gonna say, Dan?", she looked up at you. Her big green eyes seeming like you take a dive in them and get completely lost forever.
"I'll tell you at a better time, Birdie. Why don't we talk tomorrow over dinner? I'll take you somewhere nice out in Detroit.", she smiled and nodded. You could sit and stare at her smile for all of eternity as long as it meant you would be the cause of that smile.
The rest of the night was full of laughter, but you couldn't help your anxiety when you thought about telling Y/n how you felt about her. You wanted it to be perfect but also feared she wouldn't feel the same. All you could do was hope for the best.
🕊️🕊️
The drive to her house seemed to take forever, although it was only a ten minute drive. She was waiting on her porch when you got there. She took your breath away once you saw her, wearing a light purple sundress and sandals. So simple yet she made it look so elegant. "Hey Birdie. Are you ready?" She nodded and smiled. Once again you felt nervous. After helping her into your jeep, you got in and picked up your phone. "I made you a playlist. I'm not sure what you listen to anymore so I have absolutely no clue if you'll like it."
"I'll listen to anything. I'm sure it's amazing since you're the one who made it."
The hour and a half long car ride was filled with her singing and giggling. In that moment it felt exactly like she had never left. You reached to turn the radio down before speaking. "Bird, I'm gonna be completely honest right now. I really like you." She was silent. You bit your bottom lip waiting for her response. "Danny, I like you too. You're my best friend." She giggled and turned to the window.
YOUR POV
You turned to the window as you realized what you said. 'You're my best friend'. It kept replaying in your head as he was silent the rest of the drive. You felt so stupid. You missed your chance to tell him how you had felt about him for years. You weren't sure if he was upset or if thats how he had meant it.
"Alright we're here. Ready?" You looked at him and nodded, before watching him get out and come around to your door and opening it. He held his hand out for you to take. You were zoned out as he led you into the restaurant and told the host he had reservations. Maybe he hadn't meant what he said in the car. This was just two friends getting dinner together. Definitely not a date, although the restaurant was very nice and upscale.
You told him about how and why you dropped out of school. Telling him the exact same thing you told Sam. He told you about he was a journalist but mostly worked at the apothecary. The two of you shared stories and enjoyed each others company. Then he looked nervous again.
"Birdie what I said in the car wasn't very clear. I-" He was interrupted by a girl saying his name.
"Daniel! Hi! It's been a while how are you?" You immediately recognized her from the photo on his instagram and felt your heart drop. You felt your jaw clench as he stood to hug her. You were never someone to be jealous but this was different. "Y/n this is Nikki, Nikki this is Y/n." You smiled at her as he introduced the two of you but quickly looked away as she went for a hug.
Looking back momentarily you saw the glare she was giving you. Almost like she was telling you to back off. You got the vibe that maybe Nikki liked Danny a little more than what was friends. "How have you been? You haven't been answering my messages. I was beginning to think that you forgot our plans for tomorrow." The way she said it seemed like they were possibly dating.
"Nikki, I'll message you later. I gotta get Y/n home." His use of your name and not his given nickname felt like a punch to the gut. Even when introducing you to past girlfriends he used your nickname. Maybe he only saw you as a friend and you would just have to be okay with that. Daniel payed the check, while you zoned out once more. You were overthinking everything. Getting your hopes up without even thinking that he would most likely have a girlfriend.
After he dropped you off, you watched him leave through the living room window before getting a message.
danielrwagner: Here's your playlist if you wanna listen to it :) Listen to the first two songs carefully ;)
danielrwagner: We are the morning birds that sing against the sky
The name of the playlist stuck out to you, so you saved the playlist but put your phone on do not disturb and went to bed rather than listen to it. That was the first time you had ever cried over him and you promised yourself it would be the last time.
taglist:
@profitofthedune @sunflwerfangirl @gvf23
#dannywagner#greta van fic#greta van fleet#jake kiszka#josh kiszka#danny wagner x reader#greta van fluff#greta van smut#josh kiszka x reader
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𝐒𝟏: 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟏 | 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓: 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █
As a young woman who has spent a good portion of her work years at home, you were tired. After all,being cooped up in your apartment all day, wearing the same optimistic smile on your face and being positive with customers even when they cuss you out; it wad hard. You needed a change.
Sometimes change is good. It can feel like diving from the edge of a cliff on a hot sumners day, into the cool depths of a lake. Other times, it feels like being on the Titanic, without a Jack, just rich people who would push you off your only chance of survival in a heart beat.
No matter how this change will impact you, whether for better or for worse, it's still needed to be done to keep you from going insane.
A soft meow can be heard around, and as you open my eyes, tou're greated by Gigi, your very lovable white cat. She stands on the table in front of you then leans in and rubs against your chin.
"Aw Gigi" You coo, hugging her agaisnt myself as well. You wouldn't know what to do if Gigi was not there in your life, perhaps you'd crumble. "I wonder when my delivery will arrive" You ask her, looking at the clock for the time.
It's been 2 hours.
Like a miracle, the doorbell rings and a series of repetitive knocks follow shortly after. Practically leaping out of my chair, you scramble to the front door, nearly falling every time you take a step. Once you arrive at the door and swing it open, an involuntay smile stretches ypur lips upwards, only until you're met face to face with your best friend, Naalia.
"Why are you smiling?" she deadpans before gasping. Naalia then proceeds to pounce on you with her hands wrapped around your neck, tumbling you back into the house "IS IT BECAUSE YOU MISSED ME? AWW THERE THERE Y/N-"
" GET OFF OF ME NANA!" You scream, struggling to push her hands off of you until she finally decides to let go.
"Alright, alright jeez relax." She rolls her eyes,the both of you stand up to adjust yourselves.
"I thought you were the delivery guy." You sigh, slumping down into your sofa a remote in hand.
"What he's still not here?"
"Apparently not." Naalia and Gigi snuggle up beside you as you flick through channels on TV.
"Y/N you seem nervous,is it because of the interview?" The black haired girl asks, adjusting herself slightly to face me.
"No why would I be nervous?That's ridiculous" Truth be told you were actually as nervous as some middle schooler asking out her crush, but she didn't need to know that.
" Y/N you look as scared as a middle schooler about to ask her crush out, you don't fool me." Naalia responds. "Listen, even if you don't get that job, so what? You can just get another one, who's stopping you?"
You open your mouth to make a counter argument but she places a slim finger agiasnt your lips to shush you. "I don't wanna hear it you have places to be, off you go."
Reluctantly you rise to your feet, to get ready, as she shoos you upstairs. You had pretty much planned out every single step the night before, nothing was going to go wrong. Until of course the delivery guy decided not to show up, which isn't entirely helpful because the only pair of office style attire you have seems to be a size too small.
"This is fuckin great, just what I need to make my day." You groan to myself in annoyance. A couple knocks on the door can be heard.
"Come in" you shout,swiftly sitting in front of your vanity mirror to apply quick layers of mascara.
Naaila steps in and leans against the door frame, watching you get ready. Her eyes stop and arrow at the sight of your blouse. "Where did you get that from?" she takes a couple steps towards you to investigate the tight blouse.
"I don't remember where its from, all I know is now this is the only suitable thing I can wear in these disappointing circumstances."
"Woah big words" she mutters, looking around the room before picking up a pair of shoes for you. I thank her quickly and pick up my bag before rushing out the house.
"Remember being a stripper is always a good second option."Naaila shouts swinging out of your front door as you scramble into the car.
"NAAILA!"
#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#fanfiction#nanami kento#nanami kento x reader#nanami x reader#kento x reader#smut#ao3#wattpad#personal assistant
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where have i been?
an update for those curious.
hey there my loves, long time no see.
i’m not sure how many of you will actually read this or care to see why i haven’t written in over a year now but typing this stuff out helps me process and get back into my groove.
well, today is january 16, 2024. the last thing i posted that was an actual one shot was posted on january 3, 2023. i haven’t written since. 2023 was my worst year yet and caused me to learn a lot about people and myself.
things were going alright in the beginning, i was in my second semester of college and my biggest problem was 2 of my 3 roommates (lived in a quad) hated each other so me and my bestie/3rd roommate had to play mediator and it was exhausting. i started liking a guy and got my hopes up. and i started to get more and more annoyed with school and my living situation every day. i was ecstatic to move out of that room despite hating my hometown. the day of move out, one of my roommates who i thought was someone very close to me blocked me and all of our friends on everything with no explanation but we knew she wasn’t coming back for 23-24.
i like where i grew up for a maximum of a week at a time, after that my depression just kicks my ass and im not having a great time. my plan for the summer was to work my ass off so much so that i wouldn’t have time to think of anything else. that backfired, because a few days after i came home one of my two jobs fell through unexpectedly and my other job was giving me less than half the hours they promised me. i was broke. everyone says it’s so easy to get a job these days because everyone is hiring but i applied to over ten places within a reasonable distance from me and didn’t get a single one. so i spent too much time with myself and that’s not normally a good thing.
to make matters even worse, in june my mom was sentenced to three years in prison for a crime she committed back in 2020. i don’t want to get into too many specifics, but my mom would never harm anyone she just has struggled with addiction. my mom was my constant emotional support, and knowing she was no longer going to be around ripped me to shreds. not even a month later after my mom was shipped off to prison, my dog died. and i know you might think “dogs die all the time it’s a pet.” but my dog was much more than that. she wasn’t even three years old and was a beautiful great pyrenees german shepard mix and she was the sweetest girl ever. i don’t care how ridiculous it sounds, because i know my soul and hers were meant to be together. i was even in the process of registering her as an emotional support animal so i could take her to college with me because she was finally old enough and for the most part out of the puppy phase. but one night out of nowhere she got really sick and within an hour of her showing signs something was wrong she died while i was holding her. not the greatest thing for a 19 year old who’s already struggling to experience. it took my over a month to stop seeing her like that every time i closed my eyes. call me dramatic, but that dog really was a child to me.
after that, i went to stay with my cousin for a few weeks and that was nice but i still knew i wasn’t feeling right. i moved back to school in august and had way too high of hopes that everything would fix itself. surprise, it didn’t. in fact, i just got worse. i reached lows i haven’t hit in over two years. i was having roommate problems, i was trying to do way too much at once, and i was neglecting my health. i had a breakdown.
the highlight of my semester was taking a week off to visit my best friend since age 2 for her birthday (she lives roughly a 2 hour plane ride away from me now) with our other two best friends. then i came back and immediately totaled my car. my car was a piece of shit yes, but it got me places. not having a car when you’re a person who drives around to destress is not fun. i was even worse mentally at this point and i was trying so so hard to get into my overbooked doctor to get my medications raised. the only constant i had were my three friends at school and my studies. so i threw myself into them. i was never alone and if i was i was nose deep in a text book. i was just avoiding the rest of my existence. i was able to get my meds upped and decided i was done wallowing. i started a diet that is actually manageable and enjoyable and discovered for the first time workouts that i actually liked doing. it was something small, but i knew i was turning myself around.
i went home for winter break knowing it was going to be tough. i also had to spend this time looking for a new car. it was an extremely stressful process to say the least. but i focused on myself, taking all the time for myself that i needed and processing everything that had made me get to such a bad place. i’ve always been very spiritual, so i dove more into that as well as trusting the universe.
i’ve decided that 2024 will be my best year yet. i got a new car, im getting a new job, im doing great in school, my mom is getting released from prison literally six hours after i post this, and im taking care of myself in more ways than one. while doing a lot of that reflecting, i remembered how much i used to love to write and how that passion just died after loving it since i was ten. i started small, doing short story exercises and getting into reading again. i finally, after an entire year, have my passion for writing back.
i can’t promise i’ll be consistent with uploads because i’ve decided that my goal for the year is to write a novel. so that project is going to be my main focus and it isn’t anything fanfic related, it’s actually a psychological thriller. more than likely i will be asking for opinions on here throughout the year as well.
with that said, my plans this year for this blog are to keep posting. eddie munson is mainly who i write for, but i want to expand my horizons. i want to challenge myself with genres and types of characters. i will greatly appreciate any requests you can give and i promise i will read through them. if i don’t post them right away, just know it may come out three months later. sometimes inspiration sparks at weird times.
if you’ve read this far, thank you. i hope this can inspire you to see that there’s light at the end of the tunnel but sometimes you’ve gotta dig the extra dirt to it yourself. beyond thankful to anyone who was here a year ago and has come back to read my new stuff- you made an aspiring writer really proud of herself.
much much love
-eddiemunsonswhxre 🤍
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Five months ago, software engineer Shikhar Sachdev adopted a peculiar hobby. While his friends met for drinks or played FIFA 23 to unwind after work, he would come home, boot up his laptop, and spend hours filling out job applications, for sport.
Sachdev is content with his job at a San Francisco fintech company, but he writes a career blog in his spare time and had noticed a recurring sentiment: Job hunting these days is the worst. Friends described returning home from an exhausting day of work they hated, applying for new positions, and quickly growing discouraged by clunky application software and a low response rate. Research suggests the frustration is widespread: 92 percent of candidates abandon online job applications before completing them, according to the recruitment platform Appcast.
“You might hate your boss. But if you think that searching for jobs is worse, you're never going to change,” Sachdev says. “I wanted to try to put some data behind the claim that job hunting sucks.”
Sachdev set himself the challenge of applying to 500 software engineering jobs to observe exactly what made the endeavor more or less frustrating. Halfway through, however, he hit a snag. “I wanted to chop my head off,” Sachdev says. He scaled back his target to a still brain-melting 250 jobs across a range of industries and company sizes, chosen largely at random—companies he’d seen on billboards, for instance, or friends’ employers.
Sachdev timed each application from start to finish and for consistency always applied directly through a company’s career page—he ended up spending about 11 hours total filling applications. Since he wasn’t looking for a new position, he always stopped short of clicking “Submit” on a completed application, except for a few choice roles that piqued his interest. (He landed three interviews, but didn’t pursue the jobs.) He aimed to make each application serviceable, but wasn't as thorough as a truly ambitious or desperate job seeker would be, so he figures the times he logged are underestimates.
Sachdev found it took an average of 2 minutes and 42 seconds to fill out a job application—but that doesn’t include time spent identifying suitable roles, and the time could vary widely from job to job. The longest took more than 10 minutes, the shortest less than 20 seconds. Much of this variation sprang from the particularities of applicant tracking software.
Applying to work at a company that used Workday, for instance, took 128 percent longer than average for similarly sized companies in the same industry. Workday spokesperson Nina Oestlien called customer service a “core value” at the company and says that application timing is determined by how customers configure their applications. (Disclosure: WIRED owner Condé Nast uses Workday. Also, we’re hiring!)
Starting Over
Sachdev’s job hunting obsession was born partly from rejection. Originally from Geneva, Switzerland, he graduated from UC Berkeley in 2019 with a degree in environmental economics and philosophy. Most of his friends lived in the Bay Area, and career opportunities in the region abounded, so he resolved to stay.
As Sachdev’s senior year wound down, he began furiously applying for local jobs. But his heart sank each time he reached the portion of an application that asked if he needed visa sponsorship. Since he lacked US citizenship, he needed an employer to sponsor him, likely with a specialty H-1B worker visa. “When I would click the H-1B box, my application would go straight into the garbage,” he says. “I was getting rejections four minutes after I applied.”
But Sachdev has the tenacity to power through the uttermost tedium for months on end. And he discovered what looked like a loophole. Foreigners who earn STEM degrees from certain US institutions can work in the country for up to three years without a visa under a federal program called Optional Practical Training. “Who stays at their first job for more than three years?” he rationalized. So when the visa sponsorship question popped up in an application for a product manager role at a major tech company he wanted to work for, he clicked “no.”
After he landed an interview, Sachdev spent 40 hours scouring job sites for tips, cramming his notebook full of hypothetical questions and their responses, compiling a presentation the company required—and totally neglecting his coursework. Half a dozen interviews later, he got the job. His heart soared, but not for long. When he explained his immigration status to the recruiter, she rescinded the offer. Sachdev started over, eventually landing a job with a startup willing to sponsor his H-1B visa, and decided to parlay his experience into a career blog offering help to other hapless job questers.
Job hunters have long complained about the process, but it developed fresh annoyances after moving online starting in the mid-’90s, says Chris Russell, managing director of the recruitment consultancy RecTech Media. Online job boards like Monster and CareerBuilder flooded companies with candidates, giving rise to applicant tracking systems built to help recruiters manage the deluge.
These systems promised to save recruiters time by automatically ranking and filtering applicants based on keywords. From the perspective of applicants required to laboriously enter their information into the software, they felt like a new barrier. “These systems were built with the companies in mind,” says Russell. “They never really considered the user experience from the job seeker’s point of view.” A cottage industry sprang up of tools and résumé whisperers promising to help job seekers get past the automated scanners.
In recent years, new features like psychological assessments and “digital interviews,” in which applicants answer prepared questions into their webcams, only placed more barriers between candidates and human decisionmakers. Meanwhile, the fundamentals of hiring remain stuck in the past, says Scott Dobroski, a career trends expert at jobs platform Indeed. It takes three and a half months for most Indeed users to find a job, he says. “All the other parts of our lives have sped up. The hiring process has not caught up.”
Time Wasters
While job hunters have much to gripe about, from “ghost jobs” to the dreaded “résumé black hole,” Sachdev decided to focus his efforts on the initial application process. He identified three main factors that affected the time it took to apply: the size of a company, the industry it was part of, and the applicant tracking software it used.
Applicant tracking software was a major source of Sachdev’s frustration. The most common systems he encountered were Workday, Taleo, Greenhouse, Lever, and Phenom, which adds AI-powered features on top of systems like Workday. More established systems such as Workday and Taleo redirected him away from the careers page and made him create a separate account for each application, adding significant time and vexation. By the end of his 250 applications, he had 83 separate accounts.
Newer offerings such as Greenhouse and Lever spared him some of these frustrations. Applications through Lever, for instance, took 42 percent less time to complete than the average for similarly sized companies in the same industry.
Sachdev also spent many excruciating minutes retyping information he’d already uploaded on his résumé because software would misread it. Workday, for instance, would routinely populate the education field with “Munich Business School” even though Sachdev’s résumé clearly says he graduated from non-soundalike UC Berkeley. “Sometimes it's not even the time,” he says. “It's the mental fatigue of having to do it every single time.”
The longest application to fill out was for the US Postal Service, clocking in at 10 minutes and 12 seconds, while the shortest was that of hedge fund Renaissance Technologies, which requested only his name and résumé and consumed a mere 17 seconds. In general, Sachdev found that government applications took the longest—a trend that Indeed’s data backs up—followed by aerospace and consulting jobs. Younger industries such as online banks, AI firms, and crypto companies were amongst the least time-consuming. Legacy banks, for instance, took about four times longer to apply to than their newer online counterparts.
Sachdev also found applications to large companies more time-consuming than for smaller firms. In general, a doubling of company size added 5 percent to the average application time.
While the process was largely an exercise in repetition, Sachdev encountered a few creative takes on a musty old format. Plaid, a fintech company that provides APIs to connect software with bank accounts, invited applicants to apply via API. (Sachdev opted for the old-fashioned route, for consistency.) The gaming company Roblox let candidates apply in-game.
While hiring software has historically been stacked in employers’ favor, more job seekers are using their own forms of automation. Bots and tools like LazyApply use text-generation technology like that behind ChatGPT to automatically mass apply to jobs, to the likely chagrin of overwhelmed recruiters. When Sachdev posted his results on discussion site Hacker News, one commenter claimed to use bots to fill out job applications and ChatGPT to write cover letters and correspond with recruiters, fully taking over only at the interview stage. “Can you blame him?” Sachdev says. “Because the companies are doing it too. Their résumé parsers, their application tracking software, and their tools are also using AI. So it's almost as if the applicant now has this weapon they can use against the companies.”
An AI arms race that floods the job market with unserious applicants and insurmountable filtering tools is in nobody’s interest, however. Indeed’s Dobroski says some platforms, including his own, have begun rolling out a new approach that aims to save time on both sides, albeit also by leaning on algorithms. Instead of sending hundreds of résumés into the void and hoping for the best—“spray and pray” he calls it—candidates can list their skills, qualifications, and preferences and let AI suggest suitable jobs to apply for. “The matching really speeds up the hiring process, and it connects the candidate with employers that they otherwise may not even have considered,” he says.
Sachdev has his own ideas for what would make job applications more productive for both seekers and recruiters. First off, he advises applicants to save time and mental anguish by prioritizing employers that use simpler software like Lever and Greenhouse. For jobs he’s really serious about, he’ll try to make a human connection with the hiring manager on LinkedIn.
There’s a saying Sachdev likes, from computer science professor Randy Pausch: The brick walls are there for a reason. Facing and surmounting hurdles can help a person discover how much they want something. But if an employer erects too many barriers, “is an applicant really going to think, ‘That brick wall is there for a reason?’ Or is the applicant going to exit out of your website and go apply somewhere else?” Sachdev says. “I think it's the latter.”
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JOB! JOB!
I am employed! After three months of applying to everything potentially doable on campus within my skill set, I finally have a job that I’m super excited about!
Permanent, union, full-benefits gig in a faculty exec’s office that fits perfectly with my work skills, studies and some side interests! The funny thing is, I was in the process for two jobs, and I had decided that this job was, by a slim margin, my #2 choice. Very different jobs but same pay grade.
My feeling was that the other job was more neurodivergent friendly, and would leave me with more mental space to focus on my studies and thesis. The job I’ve landed is way more interesting and has more responsibilities, but a much higher fuckup potential and will require constant awareness of ND/NT balancing. (Nurture the one, display the other. Somehow.) BUT it’s in a super exciting environment with all kinds of opportunities and scope.
So of course, after my interview for this job, I came away feeling like I’d just spent an hour dorking out with My People, and that the inbox assignment I had (Answering A Confrontational Student E-mail, and Getting A Pile Of Deans and Execs To Come To A Luncheon With A Donor) was more like a pair of fun writing prompts. Apparently after I left, the panel of three looked at each other and “Yup.” And the one that I’ve been in regular contact with, who I had an instant feeling of Office Buddy Material, will be my direct supervisor.
Considering how deeply I tend to identify with my jobs, it’s going to be an interesting transition. Envisioning the shape of the role, and seeing myself step into it - and making sure that I stay vigilant about not trimming the edges of myself to fit, but keep them with me too.
I haven’t had a permanent, stable union job with proper benefits since 2010. Though that had to do with my own decision to go back to school. To have both?? The sheer relief is a physical thing. And, AND this job covers tuition. That’s massive. I mean, yes, it’s basically a small write-off for the university, but for permanent staffers it places advanced degrees AND personal interest courses within reach.
I’m gonna get that PhD. Could do another Master’s in Arch and really get down to bones, not just qualitative critical Forensic Crim... I’d even have paid vacation to put towards field research...
Anyway. Solidarity forever, et cetera.
Next week I have a celebration lunch with my old office buddy, who has also just landed a new permanent campus job - only a short walk away, with a Starbucks, a phở restaurant and a beautiful outdoor water-feature and seating area in between our buildings!
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Nihilus Rex Chapter 2: Our Own Reasons
Chapter 2, let's gooo!
Even numbered chapters will be from Lash's perspective, while odd numbered chapters are from Nils'. Lash is super fun to write, by the way. @baelpenrose agrees.
That being said, the same trigger warnings apply in this chapter, along with one for a shouting match between Lash and her parents that is very rooted in the time this takes place (alternate 2017, but not too alternate). So, additional warnings for mentions of possible rape, possible hate crimes, references to mass shootings, and references to sexist legislation.
I solemnly swear, though, the content in this chapter is nowhere near as bad as scrolling through headlines.
“Looks like a girl, but she’s a flame
So bright, she can burn your eyes
Better look the other way
You can try, but you’ll never forget her name”
“Girl on Fire” Alicia Keys
Lash
“Dammit!” I slammed the laptop closed with one hand and ripped my headset off with the other.
“Language!” my mother scolded automatically from barely ten feet outside my bedroom door.
I couldn’t even try to care. Despite promising me for months and begging for my help for nearly as long, Brayden had flaked out on me. Again. And this time he had stolen my work - the countless hours I had spent drafting graphics and small animations, the temp voice track I had laid down, all gone with nothing to show for it.
The charity existed, and Brayden had a contract to do a commission for some outreach. I had been smart enough to at least do that much research. After all, vanishing halfway through a project was nothing new when it came to dealing with him, and it would have been far from the first time that I had filled in once I completed everything, just so I could get paid. Hell, the chance of not having to split the money had been the only reason I had agreed to it this time.
Turns out, he had the same idea.
Three sharp knocks on my door jarred me out of my anger. “You need to come eat, your father is home,” Mom stated sternly before walking away.
There were no second chances with manners when it came to my parents, so I threw myself from my chair and forced some semblance of composure on myself before pulling the door open. The attempt had been in vain, apparently, because even before he had his shoes off, Baba called me out on it. “One day, you will listen to me and stop with this foolish art and cartoons,” he waved in half-hearted anger. “Go to university and get a real degree, a real job.”
“I could always marry well,” I argued churlishly, too angry about Brayden to even go through the rote script of well-worn rebellion.
The harsh laughter my mother barked in my direction hit me like a knife in the chest. “And how will you marry someone to take care of you and your childishness?” she scoffed. “With all the black and the scowling… If you can draw pretty girls, draw yourself pretty and behave like one.”
The emotions I had barely restrained before stepping out of my room reared toward them, striking as viciously as I could. “You want me to dress up, make myself up, and flatter boys? Is that how you married Baba? Being pretty and being stuck with a life of disappointment?” I batted my eyelashes and held my hands under my chin. “Oh, Charles, you are so witty! Tell me again how poor people should starve and women should do nothing but make babies, it’s so funny!” A movement from my father redirected my words before I could stop myself. “And you! What good is a degree going to do me, now! You say that Grandma and Grandpa came here to be free, so you could have an education. You have one! It didn’t make you any whiter or any richer, and you are still spit on wherever you go for being the child of immigrants.”
A sharp bang punctuated my mother’s palm hitting the table, jostling the steaming dish in the middle. “You will not speak to your parents like one of those rich girls you go to school with! There is food on this table and in your belly, you waste your life drawing cartoons and tap-tapping away in your room that your father pays for. There are clothes on your back and no war zone to go to school through. You are allowed and expected to go to school!”
“A school where I will be shot!” I screamed. “If I am not shot for being brown, or raped for being brown, I will be shot because some crazy person decided a school or a theatre, or a mosque I don’t even attend was a fine target!”
“Women do not go to mosque,” my father started to correct.
“Do you think they know that!?” I was in borderline hysterics and not even the smell of my mother’s cooking could keep me in the apartment for a moment longer. “A Sikh temple was shot. Sikhs. For being the wrong color and for ignorance. That doesn’t even count the fact that I am a woman and every day I see mine and Mama’s rights peeled away layer by layer.” I stomped to the door and snatched the first jacket I touched. “I need to calm down.” Without even waiting for their response I slammed the door behind me and started walking.
My feet automatically knew where I was going, which was good because I was too angry and in my head to decide. I made it maybe half a mile before I had to peel the jacket off and carry it, since the weather was warm and sunny for once. The entire time, I was mentally swearing at everyone in my life. Brayden for stealing my work - as far as I was concerned, he was dead to me. I hated nothing more than a thief. My parents for their well-intentioned abuse. I knew they meant well, but as the saying went, “The road to hell” and all that. I had read somewhere once about the kind eyes of people who would burn witches to save their souls - that was my parents.
I made it to my quiet place, eventually. Right where the road crossed over one of the rivers, the bridge had just enough lip to sit on comfortably, and the road wasn’t busy enough for the exhaust to bother me. Stopping for a moment, I tied the spare jacket around my waist to leave my hands free, and in the pause between songs in my earbuds, I heard shouting in the distance. Make sure to sit on the other side of a support, I noted mentally, trying to avoid the same trouble my parents seemed so oblivious to. Finally settling on “Whiplash Recovery” by ill-esha, I hummed quietly and crept to my spot. It took some careful maneuvering, but through practice I was finally seated over the rushing sound of the river, music pounding thoughts out of my head until I was consumed in nature and noise, unable to think.
Slowly, I could feel my blood pressure come down, and the less I tried to poke at my fight with my parents the better I felt. Images and colors drifted through my head as the music cycled and I tried to imagine how I would do a video to each. Not that I would ever get a chance, but it helped keep my creativity flowing and soothed the nagging doubts in the back of my head. It was just after a Charlotte Sometimes song that a crunch sounded behind me, entirely too close.
I froze, immediately ashamed to be a sitting target while praying that it was just someone driving by, or an animal.
“Don’t do it! Please!” The voice was pleading, begging almost.
I was confused, however. I had been sitting and minding my own business, like I wish he would do. “What’s that?”
“Don’t…don’t jump, please.” His voice was softer, almost ragged. “Please don’t jump. Someone…someone needs you. Someone’s world would be worse without you. And someone would be left every day wondering what they could have done differently to keep you with them.”
What in the hell is he talking about? I thought, slowly forcing my head to turn towards the voice. What I saw was a man, maybe a few years older than me. His clothes were expensive, but torn and bloody from what looked like a fresh ass-whipping. If nothing else, the fact that he was more bleeding than bruised gave that away. But the clothes were somber and too nice for work or daily wear, so something said ‘funeral’. “Got a feeling you know something about that.”
“Just came from a funeral.” Bingo. “I know everything about that.” At least here, he was more confident, if his tone was anything to go by.
“Heh. Bet.” I glanced back toward the apartment, judging how far I would have to run if he decided to be less nice than he was currently. “So what’s your name?”
“Nils. Nils Andover. Yours?”
“Lash,” I responded impulsively. Short, to the point, and giving nothing away, it was the handle I used in chatrooms and on social media. My acting name, essentially.
“Last name?”
Yeah, not happening. Not until I knew if he was safe, even if he looked like I could take him with one hand. “Not telling someone I just met. Even if I like you. But I have to admit, you definitely have a…perspective on things.” That was a polite way to say the guy who just tried to talk me out of a non-existent suicide attempt looked weird and interesting, right? And yeah, he was kind of charming in a weird, awkward way. “What uh…what happened to you? Bad enough you’re blaming yourself, the dead guy’s other family blame you, too?”
“Dead girl. And she’s a friend. And no, her family isn’t blaming me. What are you talking about?”
I waved a hand at the split lip and eyebrow before gesturing at the rips in a suit I couldn’t even imagine ever affording.. “Well either you didn’t come straight from the funeral or someone there was playing the blame game.”
The guy - Nils, apparently - bit his lip before seeming to think better of it. “Heh…Yeah. Uh. Saw some of those QAnon dicks waving signs, kinda snapped.”
Oh, I thought. He’s charming and dumb. Poor guy probably weighed less than my sound gear.
He kept talking, kind of rushing out the explanation. “My friend killed herself because of debt, and because she had to drop out of her program to take care of a sick family member so she wasn’t going to even like, get to have the future she’d gone through so much for. So something about a bunch of jackasses who were just screaming and braying about how evil elites control the world and drink the blood of the innocent except these stupid bastards are huffing enough glue to mean “Jews” when they say “elites” and mean the “blood drinking” bit literally…I kinda. Snapped. Started screaming at them. Got the shit kicked out of me.”
He looked a bit embarrassed, but it was honestly kind of endearing that he had at least tried to fight a bunch of fucknuckle rejects from the alt-right pipeline over the same things I had been shouting at my own parents roughly an hour ago.
“Anyway. Listen to me talk about myself. What were you doing up here?” He seemed to realize how the story sounded, because he was rubbing one palm against his pant leg and trying to shove the other in a pocket.
I cut him some slack and actually gave a real answer. “Just kinda thinking about things. Someone I trusted let me down - wasn’t worth dying over, but scared me pretty badly. Came up here to clear my head. A lot of things fell through, and now I’m kinda…looking for something new to be after. Something new to do.”
“Wish I could help. But I mean…” Nils paused. “I don’t know. What do you do?”
“Mostly I’m an artist. Sometimes do some light voice acting for a friend of mine - or…did. Thing was, he and I had a falling out. Really bad one. We were supposed to be doing this big project for something I thought we both believed in but…” I shrugged with one shoulder, trying to play it off as less of a big deal than it was. “He bailed, and we said some things to each other I can’t take back.” When did I start talking about my parents, I wondered, mortified.
Nils paused. He seemed to figure out that I didn’t want to say more, and it looked like he was okay with that. After all, he hadn’t told me much about himself, just his friend and the state of the country. But something piqued his curiosity, since his face got really thoughtful for a second before he started talking carefully, like it was a code he was testing. “If I say I have something I want to do, and I’d love to see what you do, would you believe me?”
I held out a hand, curious. “What’s your project?” He couldn’t be any worse than working with Brayden. If nothing else, I was pretty sure I could poison Nils with my cooking.
Nils paused, like he was choosing his words carefully. Fair enough. It only made me like him more. Finally, he spoke. “Something that might help some other people. Still kinda trying to work on all of it. I’d kinda like to hear more about your project first, maybe see if we can combine them? Maybe for some community outreach?”
So, literally like what I had just done. Nothing illegal, which unfortunately paid better, but beggars can’t be choosy, right? I flashed my best smile. “Alright. Give me your number and stay in touch. Show me you can do something interesting. And I’ll send you some of my work, see what you think.”
Nils gave me the number, letting me text him first before sending one back to prove he hadn’t lied. He smiled when my phone buzzed, and I approved his caution - I could have spoofed a number, but something told me not to.
“We good to get off the bridge?” he asked, glancing around.
I looked back toward the apartment. Mama told me I’d never find a rich white boy, and here the universe just handed one over. She didn’t need to know it was professional… I had lied about plenty, this would be a breeze.
“Yeah. We are.”
#nihilus rex#Afterverse#prequel#writeblr#writers on tumblr#original fiction#traumatized characters#science fiction#dystopia#cyberpunk#tw islamophobia#tw bodily autonomy#tw sa mention#tw mass shooting mention
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