#my brain having to correct me because I forgot ‘things that are illegal and you might have done but didn’t hurt anyone’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flowesona · 4 years ago

Text

picture perfect - yandere! kihyun x f! reader

a/n: i know i don’t normally post monsta x content on this blog, but i enjoyed writing this fic and wanted to share it here without the feeling of guilt that comes with posting a non-request on the joint blog! please let me know if you like it :>

warning: stalking, abuse and suicidal allusions

The strap of his camera bag weighed on his shoulder, but not nearly as heavily as it did on his conscience. Yet he had no choice but to comply - with the threat of losing his scholarship on the line, he was putty in the hands of his psychotic professor, who’d sent him on the ‘mission’ to stalk his ex-wife.

His musings on the morality of what he was doing were cut short as he heard the front door of the house he was observing open and close. There she was.

Kihyun raised the camera and snapped a few pictures, capturing the flush faced woman as she walked out onto the drive. A young girl was in her arms, swaddled in a warm coat as her mother opened the car and tucked her into a car seat.

She had a child. As if she was dead-set on making Kihyun feel awful. Still, he persisted in taking the photograph from his hiding spot, hoping the camera wasn’t too loud. Luckily, the woman was too occupied with taking care of her daughter to pay attention and soon enough she was climbing into the driver’s side of the car and leaving.

He gazed after her, still rooted to the spot even though his job was done. When he snapped out of his daze he pulled out his phone and texted his boss of sorts, who immediately asked to meet him in the red room for a ‘friendly chat’.

“There wasn’t anyone else there, right?” Junho asked, having snatched the camera out of Kihyun’s hands the second he arrived.

“No sir, just the woman and her child.” Kihyun confirmed, shifting on his feet uncomfortably.

“I’d prefer a clearer angle next time. This feels a bit distant.” His professor commented. “I’ll give your camera back once I have these printed.”

“Wait, n-next time?”

“Yes. You need to do this until we’re back together, understood?” Junho snapped.

“Sir, I can’t do that!” Kihyun protested, only for Junho to approach him in such an intimidating manner that he found himself backing up.

“I guess this scholarship really doesn’t matter to you, then. A shame.” The professor tutted. “And how disappointed your parents will be when they find out the reason you were kicked out of photography school was stalking a poor innocent woman.”

Kihyun felt his heart drop to his stomach as Junho gave him a seemingly friendly pat on the shoulder.

“I’ll see you this afternoon for my lecture, correct?”

The student just nodded numbly.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The neighbourhood was quiet at night, only the occasional hooting of owls breaking the silence. The blackened streets only lit by a few street lamps provided a cover for Kihyun, dressed in all black with a key clutched between his fingers.

‘She’ll be asleep by 10PM, she has to work late on a thursday so she can never stay up late.’ The words of Junho lingered in his mind as he slipped the key into the keyhole and the front door creaked open. ‘Besides, she never remembers to lock the door. That’s always my responsibility.’

The first thing he noticed was that the house clearly needed an extra pair of hands. There were cobwebs in the corners, and the floor was littered with unorganised toys and shoes.

But that wasn’t his purpose. He was there with a mission: a sick, illegal one at that, but something he had to do nonetheless to preserve his chances of success in the future. He found his target quickly and quietly, pushing open the bedroom door cautiously to see the sleeping woman.

Kihyun could almost understand how Junho was so obsessed with her. She looked simply ethereal splayed out, fast asleep.

He raised his camera up and snapped a picture of her from the doorway, before advancing into the room. Every step closer only made his heart race more, from dread of what could happen if he was caught but also the minor crush he was developing on the older woman.

It was just as he was getting a close up that there was a small knock at the door, just barely audible. Then, before Kihyun could even think to hide, it was pushed open to reveal a small figure silhouetted by the light from the hallway that had inexplicably turned on.

“Mommy?”

The woman in question groaned, creeping open her eyes. The figure dressed in all black standing over her was unmissable. She let out a shrill shriek, falling out of the bed and scrambling to the doorway to grab her daughter.

“Who the hell are you?” She screamed. “Get out of my house!”

“I-I-I…” Kihyun struggled to come up with an answer, his brain clouded. He’d planned an answer beforehand in case this happened - he’d simply gaslight her into thinking it was a dream - but at that moment his mind was fuzzy.

“Get out, before I call the police!” The woman screamed again.

“Please… you have to understand…” He stuttered. “Can I just explain?”

“What could you possibly have to explain?” She snarled back, holding her daughter closer to her chest.

“I’m not here of my own accord. Please, don’t call the police and I’ll explain everything. I swear on my life I would never hurt either of you.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Get talking.”

Kihyun gulped, before taking a breath in and explaining it all.

“Your ex-husband is my photography professor. He’s blackmailing me to essentially stalk you, to take photos of you for his “collection”. If I don’t do it, he says I’m going to lose my scholarship, and I can’t just let that happen. I’m really sorry for all the distress I’ve caused, but please don’t ruin my life because of it.”

The woman sighed, but visibly relaxed.

“Almost sounds believable.”

She put her daughter down.

“Go to your room honey. Go back to sleep, okay?”

The young girl nodded and plodded off.

“We should talk.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

A half empty glass of sherry was nursed between (Y/N)’s fingers, but Kihyun’s remained untouched.

“I’m really sorry. You shouldn’t have to suffer because of my relationship.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s all because of that power-abusing bastard.” Kihyun attempted to comfort her. They’d spent the last half hour giving a brief recounting of their lives, a mellowing experience for the both of them.

“I mean, clearly you’ve got talent, and I would hate to see that go to waste because of me.” (Y/N) sighed, taking another sip of the alcohol to soothe her woes. “I guess you can just continue doing this. He’s just way too smart to break his restraining order and get arrested.”

“Are you sure? I hate invading your privacy, especially now that I know you.” It made Kihyun’s heart ache to even think of being such a creep to the kind-hearted woman.

(Y/N) out and took one of his hands into her own.

“You’re such a sweet guy, Kihyun. Do you have a girlfriend?”

He felt his face heat up, not quite wanting to admit how the only woman who he was remotely interested in was her.

She chuckled seeing his expression.

“Well, you’re always free to get a drink with me. Or we can have something more, if you’re interested.”

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Minji loved Kihyun. Whenever he visited after his work for the day was done, she would be waiting by the door with a puzzle she’d picked out for them to do together. (Y/N) would always make them tea as Kihyun entertained her daughter by helping her sort out the puzzle pieces so that they could do the edges. Then they would sit together, the perfect picture of domesticity as Minji talked excitedly about nothing in particular and (Y/N) rested her head on his shoulder and slowly drifted to sleep. He’d leave the dozing (Y/N) and energetic Minji alone as he cooked them supper, often with Minji by his side asking questions about everything he was doing.

There hadn’t been one moment when he’d asked (Y/N) out, or vice versa. Things just fell into place, and there was such a warm feeling Kihyun got as a new part of the family that he almost forgot about his responsibilities. Having to take photos of (Y/N) as if she was a stranger jarred him, when he’d taken to capturing more intimate photos on his phone, saved for the mornings where he didn’t want to get out of bed.

Kihyun knew he was falling for (Y/N), deeply. It was dangerous knowing his scholarship was on the line and one fuck up could ruin his career permenantly.

One day, as Kihyun was helping Minji with her homework as (Y/N) was doing the laundry, the phone rang.

“I’ll get it.” (Y/N) sighed, letting the iron rest as she reached for the landline. “Hello?”

There was a pause as Kihyun paid no mind to it, quietly pointing out where Minji had made a mistake.

“Junho?” Kihyun froze. Surely he wasn’t going to make a move, surely he wasn’t going to win over (Y/N).

“I’m busy actually, so if you could leave me be-”

Minji smacked the arm of the out-of-focus Kihyun.

“Kihyun, what does this word mean?” She whined loudly, giving him her biggest puppy dog eyes to try and draw him back.

It stayed silent as Junho spoke to (Y/N) down the phone.

“No, you must be hearing things. She’s just reading to herself.” (Y/N) stuttered, and it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice down Kihyun’s back.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” She finally snapped back. “Go to hell, and stay away from my family.”

(Y/N) slammed the phone down and let out a huge sigh, her breathing having quickened. Kihyun quickly abandoned the english homework and took the shaking mother into his arms, letting her sob into his chest.

“He knows, he knows. This is a nightmare, he’s going to ruin your career, he’s going to-”

“Shhhh.” Kihyun held her just a bit tighter, feeling the same fear dwelling in his stomach but quashing it so that he could be strong for her.

“I’m so sorry, I should have never initiated anything between us.” (Y/N) continued to cry, but Kihyun shook his head.

“I wouldn’t exchange you for anything, not even my career.” He smiled. “I’ll sort this all out, don’t you worry.”

The young man saw over (Y/N)’s shoulder the crestfallen face of Minji staring at the couple, and he removed one of his hands from his partner’s back to beckon the young girl, who squealed in delight as she attached herself to his legs.

“No one will take this away from us. I swear”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Processing photos was a relaxing process. Whilst his professor preferred to use digital cameras, Kihyun liked watching the developing film, the quiet that enveloped the room save for the buzz of the LED lights.

His peace was interrupted with the arrival of Junho, who dropped his bag rather loudly on the floor.

“Yoo Kihyun. I trust you’ve been keeping up with your work?” His voice possessed such animosity it made the student shiver.

“I’m sorry sir, I was busy yesterday. I wasn’t able to take any pictures of your wife for you.”

“But you visited her, no?”

Silence spread throughout the darkroom.

“I didn’t. I’m very sorry, I hope you can forgive me.”

Junho let out a deep, irritated sigh.

“That’s a shame. But also, I know you’re lying to me Kihyun, and I want the truth.” He snarled, grabbing the student’s wrist in his iron grip. “Why did I hear my daughter say your name yesterday?”

“You must have misheard her.” Kihyun replied smoothly, his heart racing nonetheless.

“I wasn’t born yesterday.” His superior snapped back, twisting the young man’s wrist until he cried out in pain. “You think you’re so smart, you think you’ve got the world in your hands. But just you wait. First, I’m making sure you lose your scholarship for severe misconduct. Then, I’ll phone all the contacts I have and make sure you can never get into another school like this, no matter where you go, Finally, I’m going to make sure (Y/N) doesn’t even remember your name, so that you have nothing left after your useless escapade.”

“Fuck you.” The student hissed, tears brimming in his eyes. He couldn’t let this happen, let himself lose everything he worked for and (Y/N). He finally snatched his wrist away. “I’ll kill you before anything of that happens, you rotten bastard.”

“What will that achieve? You’ll still lose your career, your life, and (Y/N) and Minji will hate you for the rest of their lives.”

No, that wasn’t true. Kihyun had been woken up too many times by (Y/N) crying out in her sleep, wrecked with the emotional damage Junho had done to her. He’d always go and make her a cup of camomile tea, and rub her back when she cried to him about how she wished that she’d never met Junho. She’d be much better off if he was dead.

His swiss army knife was in his pocket. Maybe he could end all their troubles here.

“Now get out of my site, rat. No point doing any more work when you’re going to be kicked out by the end of the day, right?” Junho’s triumphant smirk only served to piss off Kihyun even more.

He found the knife in his pocket, flicking the blade out and letting it rest in his hand.

It was when Junho gave him a shove towards the door that he snapped and pulled it out, brandishing it in front of his face.

“Nice tool you have there, little rat. What are you going to do with it? You haven’t got the guts.” It was to Junho's surprise that he found himself pinned down to the floor, Kihyun’s weight on his chest keeping him from moving as the blade was dragged up his wrists. One of the student’s hands was clasped over the professor’s mouth to keep him from screaming out as he finished his work. The light was leaving the villain’s eyes, and it was sickeningly satisfying to see as Kihyun cleaned off the knife before leaving it in the dying man’s hands. Even if his victim tossed the blade away, it would still have the prints and Kihyun would be cleared nonetheless. He cleaned off his hands, shrugged on his jacket and left the bastard in a pool of his own blood.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

It was just after three o’clock, with Kihyun having spent the afternoon in the library studying his theory textbooks, that he got a text from (Y/N).

‘Can you pick up Minji from school as soon as possible please? I can’t leave the house right, I’ll explain it later.’

His heart thudded. He was more than ready to do it for (Y/N), to be the rock of stability in her life. If she ever needed him, he would be there.

Minji was chipper as always, not questioning why she’d been asked to leave classes early although Kihyun did have some difficulty proving to the receptionist that he had permission to pick her up despite not being her father.

She chattered to Kihyun all throughout the journey home, practically bouncing in the seat even after he gently scolded her for distracting him. He could never be mad at her, she was too cute.

Minji was ready to jump into her mother’s arms the second the front door opened, but the sight of (Y/N)’s reddened eyes as she pulled the two inside before quickly shutting it behind them was enough to concern her.

And as soon as the three were hidden from the eyes of the public, (Y/N) broke down into tears.

“M-m-minji… your daddy…” She choked out. “He’s…”

Kihyun rushed to comfort her, letting her sob into his chest.

“We’ll explain to you later, Minji. Do you want to go to your room and play with your dolls?”

The little girl bit her lip, trusting Kihyun but also concerned about the state of her mother. He gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder with his spare hand, and it was enough to sway her and run off.

“Honey, we need to sit down.” Kihyun muttered, gently leading her over to the armchair. The mother sniffed and detached herself from him, wiping at her eyes.

“It’s Junho. I got a call from the police. They found him dead, and they think he killed himself.” Kihyun couldn’t care less, but seeing the state (Y/N) was in he knew it was best to fake sympathy and coo apologies.

“It’s all my fault, I told him to go to hell, I told him I hate him. It’s all my fault, I killed him!” She wasn’t exactly wrong, she had been the cause of his death, but Kihyun didn’t want that weight on her shoulders.

“No, it’s not. You’re not to blame for whatever he did.” He whispered.

“I shouldn't have ever fought him. If I’d been a bit more tolerant, he w-w-wouldn’t be dead!” A new wave of tears dripped down (Y/N)’s cheeks.

“Don’t blame yourself, you did the right thing.” Kihyun repeated, like a mantra. (Y/N) just shook her head at the response.

“Please, Kihyun. I love you, but this should have never happened.” There was a pit in Kihyun’s stomach as the love of his life spoke. “I think… I think we need some time apart. This doesn’t feel right.”

No. This couldn’t be happening.

Surely Junho hadn’t been right. Surely (Y/N) didn’t hate him?

“We’re meant to be together, (Y/N). I’m here for you, no matter what. I’d do anything for your love.” He clasped her hands in his.

“I know. I just can’t do this, the guilt would eat me alive.” She continued, her eyes still watery. “What would I look like, Minji’s father dying and me staying with my new man without a care in the world?!”

“He was a rotten bastard!” Kihyun raised his voice, standing up. “Why should you care if he’s dead? He hurt you, he deserved everything he got!”

(Y/N) was stunned.

“How could you be so heartless? I never wanted him dead!” She snapped.

“And what if I did?” Kihyun replied heatedly. “He had it coming!”

There was silence, although Kihyun’s blood was boiling so hot he was surprised there wasn’t steam coming out of his ears.

“Dear lord, Kihyun. What did you do?” (Y/N)’s voice was barely a whisper, but he heard her loud and clear.

“Nothing he didn’t deserve.” Kihyun said simply.

“Get out of my house right now.”

He didn’t move.

“I’m calling the police.”

Her empty threats meant nothing to the lovesick man.

“I’d do anything for you.” He affirmed. “Don’t test that.”

(Y/N) was shaking. She was out of the grasp of one obsessed man, only to fall into the arms of one much worse.

He sat down next to her again, taking her hands into his own.

“No one could ever take me away from you. I swear.”

#Yandere kpop #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere monsta x #yandere kihyun #kpop Yandere #Yandere Kihyun x reader #Kihyun x reader #yandere monsta x au #yandere monsta x reader insert

144 notes · View notes

starrynite7114 · 4 years ago

Text

Two Weeks (Miguel Galindo)

A/N: Tomorrow is my final and I think I’ve reached the point of a mental breakdown that you’re just numb to it. But no matter, positive thoughts all around and hoping my brain isn’t so mean anymore. But due to this, I needed a much needed distraction and finished part one of my Miguel mini series. He may be a little OOC, but I hope you all enjoy this lovely work of mine.

Everything is you, Snapshots, Misconstrued, and two requests will be posted within the next two weeks.

Also may be adding Rio to my lovely writing list, we’ll see.

This is my brain on procrastination, please forgive me.

Love you all and I hope you lovelies are having an amazing week thus far!

Masterlist

Tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic : @ifoundmyhappythought : @carlaangel86 : @marvelmaree : @woahitslucyylu : @encounterthepast : @enamoured-x : @whyisgmora : @briana-mishell24 : @bribri-82 : @briannab1234 : @chibsytelford : @agirllovespasta : @twistnet : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @trulysuccubus : @jadert15 : @sammskellington : @cind-in-real-life : @claytoncardenasbabymama : @sadeyesgf : @thickemadame : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @gemini0410 : @elcococruz : @samcrobae : @sesamepancakes : @iambabyharry : @blackmissfrizzle : @soamayansfangirl : @1-800-imagines : @phoenixhalliwell : @lady-pswrld : @dazzledamazon : @getyourcrayoncas : @fvckthisbxtchup : @lukealvxz : @scuzmunkie : @nakusaych9 : @danie1432 : @cocotheclown : @soaronmywings : @my-rosegold-soul : @buttercup812 : @itskiranbitch : @angelreyesgirl : @sheeshgivemeabreak : @vicmackeybullshxt : @strawberrywritings : @cherry-icetea : @losolvidad0s : @brownsugarcoffy : @courtrae89 : @blessedboo : @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind : @fariesandwanderlust : @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead : @xserenax-13 : @whatupitshuff : @aquamento : @justvnash : @maddie-georges : @itskiranbitch

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please leave a comment below or just message me!

CREDIT TO THE ORIGINAL GIF CREATOR!

You couldn’t do this, you were at wits end. You wanted nothing more than to throw your work phone away as it constantly rang, constantly interfered with your life, sanity, sleep, and did you already say sanity? Just in case, your sanity.

“If I ignore it, it never happened.” You looked at the clock and it was three in the morning, you had to be up in three hours to get ready for work to see this despicable man once more.

The ringing stopped, a sigh of relief overtaking your body. Your eyes closed and yet again, it fucking rang.

“FUCK YOU MIGUEL GALINDO.”

You took a deep breath, gathering what remained of your sanity.

“Hello Mr. Galindo, what can I do for you at three in the morning?”

His chuckle rang across the phone, aggravating you more. “Ooh, Mr. Galindo? I’m in trouble, rightfully so. I apologize for calling you so early in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a conundrum.”

“Miguel, I am not picking you up from Alejandra’s place.”

“I gave Nestor the night off.” He argued.

“I’m technically off too you asshole!” You were one of the few who didn’t fear Miguel. You knew of his capabilities, but you figured you were far too valuable.

“Yes, I am fully aware of that, your nights are sacred. But you know I rarely call you on nights.” He countered.

“Correct that statement.”

“Anymore.” He corrected himself.

“Miguel, why do you continue to meet this girl if you’re not interested in her?” Ever since his divorce with Emily two years ago, Miguel has been single and kept it that way. Which in hindsight was for the best. With the cartel, real estate, which he still headed with Emily, and the rebels, he had plenty of things to occupy his time. But you knew why he liked the causality of his relationship with Alejandra.

No strings attached.

No questions.

No commitments.

It fit his lifestyle.

“Because, I have needs and you know, she’s easy on the eyes.”

You begrudgingly got out of bed and made sure to sigh loudly. Miguel chuckled, and you just cussed his name in the three languages you knew.

“Stop cussing me out in your head. Are you coming to get me?”

“I get the day off.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Better cuddle up then.”

“Fine, but we’re having breakfast then you can have your day off.”

“No work talk during breakfast or the ride home.”

Miguel groaned. “Deal.”

===========

You sat across from Miguel at this diner in San Diego, your usual spot whenever you picked him up from Alejandra’s. Miguel rarely indulged himself or let his real self out due to his obligations as a cartel head. He had a reputation to maintain, his playful and joking nature was hardly in display. But whenever he let himself be free, it was easy to see why Emily fell for him.

You didn’t, but you could acknowledge why your asshole of a boss could be charming.

You dedicated ten years to Miguel. He taught you the ins and outs of business along with his illegal activities. If he was ever indicted, you knew you would be a target as well. Miguel always tried to keep you out of the cartel side of things, but that proved to be difficult.

Straight out of college, twenty-two years young with your English major in hand, you applied for Miguel’s assistant position. What was supposed to be an in between job before doing a Master’s program turned into ten years of unfulfillment. You learned much from Miguel. He forced you to learn how to become a business woman, to think like him. You were the brain that wasn’t attached to him.

But you had to walk away.

You were thirty-two years old, with nothing to your name. You wanted to be something. You couldn’t be his assistant forever. As much as he was a pain, you enjoyed working with Miguel, but you could still enjoy his friendship without working with him.

“Do you think I should involve myself in a relationship again? It doesn’t look good for my image if I remain unattached.” Miguel broke you out of your thoughts.

“True, but if you remain single, less people to worry about. Personal relationships in your line of work is hardly ideal.” This constitutes as business talk, but you’ll let it slide.

“You’re right, and this is why you’re my right hand.” Miguel knew that technically belonged to Marcus or even Nestor, but he never made a decision without your input. He was just used to it.

“I wanted to speak to you about something.”

“Go for it.” Miguel gave his full attention to her. “Are you finally going to confess your undying love for me?”

You know she liked playful Miguel, but when he was being this obnoxious, she liked hardened, cartel boss Miguel.

“Right, should I stab you now or later?” You rolled your eyes making Miguel laugh. “I’m going to look for a new secretary.”

“Sure, you need help?” Miguel hardly argued with you. He trusted your judgment after all.

“No, I’m resigning.”

===========

“She has to be in love with me.” Miguel paced back and forth in his office, a few hours after your breakfast.

Nestor watched his boss and closest friend, amused by his suggestion.

“Y/N?” It’s not that Nestor couldn’t see you falling for Miguel, but, that wasn’t it. “You’ve said it yourself that she’s far too bright to remain your assistant forever.”

“That was just insanity talk, of course I expect her to stay by my side.” Miguel stopped in front of Nestor. “She quit right after she picked me up from Alejandra’s. She hated picking me up from there and she never got along with Emily.”

“All circumstantial. You know she cherishes her sleep, most likely the reason she was annoyed. Second, Emily was always a bitch to her.” Emily never liked you since she thought you undermined her with Miguel, which was far from the truth. Nestor witnessed a majority of your fights and it was hardly pretty. “All circumstantial.”

“No, she’s jealous. I know it. No matter, I can get rid of Alejandra.”

Nestor shook his head. He knew this day would come, you spoke to him about it quite often recently. But he didn’t think it would be too soon. He also knew Miguel wouldn’t handle it well. It was hard for him to trust anyone and the fact the person he trusted most was going to leave?

Miguel was at the first stage, denial.

===========

You drove up the driveway of Miguel’s home the next morning, Nestor greeting you by your car.

“You had to drop that bombshell and take the day off?” Nestor shook his head. He loved Miguel, he did, but yesterday was full of theories and bullshit he didn’t want to partake in.

“Well if you’re didn’t take the night off then I could have told him later that morning.” You retorted, glaring at your friend.

“You’re punishing me for taking a personal day?”

“I’m not punishing you, I didn’t think he was going to go overboard with the theories.” Nestor texted you every fucking thing that Miguel had said. It went from you having a secret family, secret boyfriend to being in love with him, which was what he settled with.

“To be fair, I said it was all circumstantial.”

“And it is.” You handed your purse to Nestor. “I’m posting the job later and see if we get any candidates that are,”

You paused. “We’ll see if we can find people that are trustworthy.” It wasn’t about skills. It wasn’t about degrees. It was about being trustworthy.

“How can you even determine that?”

“I have good intuition.”

“Right, forgot, you're psychic.” He teased her.

“Fuck you,” you playfully pushed him.

Nestor opened the door for you and you walked in finding Marcus and Miguel sitting around in the living room.

“There she is,” Miguel greeted you, giving you a hug and kissing your cheek. “How are you?”

“Good,” you gave him an odd look. “You ready, we have a packed day today.”

All three men were looking at you and you gave them a questioning look.

“Am I missing something?”

“I got you something.” Miguel smiled, taking your hand in his. He led you through the house to the garage and before entering he requested for you to close your eyes. “If you got me a car, I swear to god.”

“Wait, why, did you not want a new car?” Miguel frowned. Materialistic items usually appeased women, it definitely kept Emily’s temper at bay when it was directed at him. But he should know how you were by now. Materialistic items rarely impressed you. He found it odd that the little things he did for you was what left the most impression. He got you a rose gold bracelet for your birthday and while you were thankful, he could tell it didn’t impress you much. He brought you lunch from your favorite restaurant, and it was like he gave you the world.

Why the fuck did he get you a damn car?

“I’m not Emily, Miguel, you can’t just wave a shiny thing in front of me and I’ll change my mind.” You crossed your arms across your chest. “Did you get me a car?”

“No,” he closed the door.

Nestor refrained from laughing while Marcus just chuckled.

“You already bought it, might as well let me see.” You nodded your head towards the door.

Miguel indulged you and opened the door. Your mouth dropped. “You got me a Range Rover?” It was your dream car, one that you were saving up for, and now you had it. But you weren’t staying. “As much as I want the car, it’s not going to work. I’ll be posting the job later on today.” You saw that Nestor closed the door as soon as you said that.

“This is ridiculous, why do you want to quit? Am I not compensating you enough?” Miguel was frustrated. He didn’t want you to leave. How could you leave? He compensated you well. Always made sure you were well taken care of and to top it off, you were basically the closest confidant he had. He trusted you with his life, there was no way he could find anyone he trusted as much as you.

“I told you, it’s for personal reasons.” You didn’t understand why you had to give him a reason. In any other job, personal reasons would suffice.

But this was different.

You knew change was not something Miguel was a fan of, he was meticulous and hardly deviated from his normal. He had a schedule and strictly followed it. When the plans deviated, it greatly irritated him, but you always found a way to soften the blow so he wasn’t inconvenienced.

“I think I warrant more than a generic answer.”

“Miguel, I’ve been your assistant for ten years now. It’s just time for me to move on professionally. I couldn’t possibly be your assistant forever.”

“Are you in love with me?”

He blurted it out so quickly that even he was surprised he did. Miguel hardly said anything without thinking of it, but you were an anomaly to him. He spoke before he thought of his words with you.

“No, absolutely not.” You laughed. “No offense, you’re a good looking guy, but I also know you, so no, I’m not interested.”

“Why not?” Miguel was slightly appalled by your rejection of the idea of being in love with him. Was he not worthy? He was a catch if he said so himself.

“What? What do you mean why not? I’m not interested, simple as that.” You could tell your rejection affected Miguel. Not everyone fell to his feet, especially not you. “Look, now that we got that theory out of the way, want to try another? Why is it so hard to believe I just want a better career?”

“I can provide that for you.”

“Miguel, what can I possibly do in your organization that would be a promotion? I swear to god, if you say executive assistant.”

“Come on querida, give me more credit than that.” Miguel chuckled. “You can handle the developmental projects around Santo Padre. You could be my development manager.”

“No, absolutely not, I would have to work with Emily. She already thinks we're sleeping together, the last thing I want to do is deal with Emily.”

“Y/N, come on, I’m sure I can find something in my organization that can fulfill this desire you have.” Miguel was not comfortable with the thought of losing you. He wasn’t willing to accept it.

“Miguel, we have to move on some time, you’ll be fine. I will find the most eligible candidate for this job. I promise.” You gave him a hug.

You needed to do this. You couldn’t stay in this job forever, you had to move on.

“Hand them over.”

“What?”

You stuck your hand out. “You got me the car, it would be rude to not take it.”

===========

“She’s in love with me, it's the only logical reason.” Miguel was sitting down on the couch by the pool, nursing the whiskey in his hand.

“Did she not say she wasn’t?” Nestor wasn’t sure why they were talking about this again when Miguel already spoke to you.

“She’s hiding it.”

“Look, I’m going to ask this at the risk of being killed by you, but out of pure curiosity, are you hoping she’s in love with you so you can confess some deep secret you’ve kept from her?”

“No, absolutely not, I’m not interested in her, but if it keeps her by my side, I can be with her.”

Nestor gave Miguel an incredulous look, chuckling at his friend’s terrible idea. Though, he couldn’t help, but play Devil’s Advocate.

“You know what, you should pursue her.”

“Now you see what I’m seeing. She wouldn’t be able to say no to me. I know her like the back of my palm.”

Nestor had to refrain from chuckling. This was going to be a fun two weeks.

#miguel galindo #miguel galindo fanfiction #miguel galindo imagine #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #mayans mc fanfic

390 notes · View notes

kanene-yaaay · 5 years ago

Text

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Kanene’s note: Okay, I’m- aaaaa

I’m very proud of this one because it’s a little different of what I use to write and it was cool to try a new something. I didn’t even wrote the laughter because I was writing this next to my family and I didn’t wanted any of them asking why my characters were laughing so much xDD.

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Switch!Émile and Switch!Remy (It is def romantic. They are married and very gay and there is a lot of kisses in it-)

* Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are plenty of amazing art in this site!! ‘u’).

* Something around 2700 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! I didn’t proofread that one very well, so I will probably be correcting a few things later. Any advice is always very, very welcome!

* Just two silly and very mean boyos being two silly, teasy and ticklish boyos. xDD

* A versão em português brasileiro irá ser escrita, ainda! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Watch a fun video, take a good rest, talk with the one that you love and drink water! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

- Émile ~

He didn’t know from where this came from. In a second they were on the couch, smiling and watching Steven Universe, and in the other a cold shiver ran across his body, making him turn to his husband, just in the exact moment to see he taking off his sunglasses, locking his glare on him with those sweet, dangerously warm eyes and grin. Just like that. It took a heartbeat before Émile realized what was about to happen, a wobbly smile beginning to control his features as he felt himself almost paralyzed, Remy starting to tap his fingers on the lenses of his own glasses, his malefic smirk never fading.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

They stared each other, Émile’s gaze finally changing to his fingers, another round of goose bumps spreading across his spine, the adrenaline taking over his veins and giving him the enough strength to dash in full speed through the hall.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Which leaded the poor, almost giggling, adult to his current state: hiding behind his room’s door and wishing with all his will power that this plan would really worked as well as it had when he watched in the cartoons.

(He tried to ignore the voice in his mind reminding him how all that chases usually ended up in the end, the thought only being enough to heat his face.)

- Émile ~ - It was in days like this that one wearing glasses could swear that Remy was a witch. Because there wasn’t any other realistic, rational and plausible explanation about how much the giggles trapped in his throat got louder, bouncier and even more difficult to control just with the slight sound of his voice, obligating their owner to press his hand further around his mouth, lightly biting the tip of his tongue. – You had better hide well, because you know what is gonna to happen when I find you, don’t you?

Émile shook his head, his back forcing itself on the cold wall.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

- Oh, gurl, maybe you don’t even remember anymore… Now, we can’t fusion like this, can we? Let’s me remind you, then. ~ - The chased hold a pouty whine when heard these words, already feeling the beginning of a blush spread in his neck. Remy knew very well how teases could be as unbearable and unnerving as the tic… I mean, The Thing. – First, I will carry you aaaaall the way back to the couch and maybe my fingers will slip in tweaks and squeezes all over your hips, who really knows, ya know? But you better don’t squirm that much, because then I will have no escape but be obligated to bring my other hand to better hold you and just hope that this one is not more slippy then the first, right?

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

- And then: The couch. Nothing different will happen there, really. I will just lay down with my extremely ticklish, helpless husband to take a nap, and, if my glorious lips will be random blessing your incredibly sensitive neck with a lot of Goodnight Kisses and my hands will keep lightly scratching, squeezing and poking all the length of your sides, sometimes even giving a little attention to your hips, because no way in hell I will be sleeping in a hard pillow, it’s none of your business, giggly boi. – Émile couldn’t help nor stop the pitched squeal that escaped from his mouth, eyes widening and breathing immediately stopping, the others giggles also begging to escape. - Oh, and, by the way, better keep your mouth very shushed while this. We don’t want the Tickler Master waking up, am I right?

Silence.

Remy’s nonchalant tune still full filling the air, which didn’t carried the sound of his steps anymore. The cartoon lover knew there was no way for him to save himself and, in a surrender act, just let his high, excited giggles run happily across the room hiding his face in flames behind his tremble hands. Seconds later, he heard the sound of his door being closed and his hide spot exposed.

- But we both know that you just can’t contain yourself, my so poor, so defenseless lee. – Émile playfully screamed as he was lifted up in the air, quickly being carried in bridal style. He opened his eyes enough to see Remy in a bat of eyes deviating his glare from his form, the tender smile taking pieces of seconds before changing to an evil grin, fingers suddenly tweaking his kneecaps and hips, leading the carried to jump, a squeal signaling the flow of giggles that followed it.

- Please, Remy, please!! – Each new squeeze was a snort interrupting his words, making him try to start again only to get the same result and repeat the cycle all over, resulting in a more helpless babbling than anything else. The said stopped, adjusting his hold in order to sneak his thumb in that damn spot right between his shoulder blades, switching between kneading and prodding while leading to an even more no-understandable sentence. - No there, no there, no there!!! Pleasepleaseplease-

- Huh? Whatcha you are trying to say, hun? That I’m the most handsome husband in the entire world? That you are so sensitive that only a few squeezing and prodding are enough to transform you in a blushy, laughing mess? – The one being held felt his laughter increasing, the words spreading tingles in all his others ticklish spots, even the ones which weren’t being attacked. He shakes head, denying. – Is that you love all these teases and specially when I tickle tickle tickle you? Huh? Use your words, babe.

– Nonononono! – Émile arched his back just to find another attack to his hips, bucking the said as Remy buzzed his fingers in the exact point where his sides and hips connected, and generating loud crackling as response. – You a- nah! You are mean mean mean!! – His arms danced to a place to another, too much occupied with the crazy sensation to really focus in stopping it, Remy increasing his efforts in order to make the snorts start to bloom amongst his laughter and squeals, no needing too much to succeed. – Remy!!!

- Yes, gurl? Geez, you should love my name. It seems like you can’t even spent a whole real minute without saying it! – His tune was still nonchalant. However, he leaned down for a heartbeat in order to steal a peck from his beauty, giggly and cute as fuck, husband, who obtained a new shade of red creeping down his neck. Nooooice. – Anyway, what did you wanna tell me? Be quick, I still having a lot of places to knead, scratch, scribble, wriggle… This whole ‘Tickle your extremely ticklish husband, like, really, reeeeeally ticklish, like seriously, this guy is a whole tickle spot himself, a alive version of Tickle Me Elmo, and, when he became a helpless mess just tease him more and more until the big, rational, Émile Picani turns in just a poor, so poor, blushy lee.

- REMY!!

- What? Can’t handle the truth? Boo-hoo, then.

Émile didn’t answered, unless you considered his fast, absolutely incoherent, stumbling words a kind of response, choosing to clench is hands in his shirt and hide his face in flames, instead. His laughing being so strong that reverberate through the attacker’s chest, who couldn’t stop feel like a villain as he stared with a gigantic grin adorning his lips the ribs that such act let defenseless. Well, he internally shrugged as he took a deep breathe, suit himself. His arms were growing tired anyway.

Émile thought he was going to melt in any moment, the teases still heating his sensitive skin and increasing the tickles in a way that should be definitely illegal, but in the moment he felt the raspberry, spreading, taking over his nerves and T I C K L I N G he died.

And screamed, for sure. Oh, and also gripped something while kicked and trashed as if Mabble’s life was depending on it (not his own life, of course, since he was already dead). Some part of his desperate brain noticed he was falling, but the laughter exploding from his mouth and the impossible to ignore feeling quickly expelled any other thing.

He opened his eyes, breathless as his watery vision focused in the form mostly layed onto him, their giggles flying and filling the entire room. After some heartbeats, Remy finally got up, his hands resting on the floor and sustained the weight of his body. Their eyes met.

- I’ve forgot how much of a kicker you are. – Émile just curled up a little more, pulling his tongue out in a very mature and hard to win, statement

- ‘s not my fault your arms are weaken than Deadly Arms’ ones.

- Excuse you?

- Nuh.

- I beg your heck pardon?

- No, you let me fall for you. Twice. In love and on the floor. I’m ignoring you until the end of ours married days.

- Oh, is that so? – Remy replied, adjusting his position so his hands would lay each one in the sides of his husband’s head, who immediately recognized the smile beginning to shine and exploded one more time in a flow of giggles, his arms in front of his body, attempting to conjure a kind of shield.

- Wait wait waitwaitwait!! Nonono! – A yelp cut his sentence when a hand tweaked his thigh. - I’m sorry, I’m sorry!

- Yep, gurl, you will b- And his threat was interrupted when Émile pushed his shirt and connected their lips, stealing his words, breath and any and every coherent thought from his head, his giggles still floating from his mouth, which leaded, if that was even possible, to the coffee lover melt further, allowing himself to be carried away by the tenderness and love, sighing and deepening the kiss.

…Until that dirty, evil, nasty cheater digs his fucker fingers in his damn stomach, which ruined the romantic moment and absolutely did NOT made Remy Tough Picani release a half shriek half snort that DIDN’T resulted in the only one wearing glasses coos softly, excuse you.

- Awww. – Émile gave him an innocent smile, quick turning the tables and sitting on Remy’s legs, his fingers swinging in a dance that consisted in craving his thumbs right above his waistline and vibrating his others fingers in his torso, the maddening sensations culminating to free, belly laughter escape from the ‘victim’s’ mouth. Eyes tightly closed, wrinkled nose. – What is the matter, my dear? The cool, bad boy Remy can’t take some ti-tickly tickle tickling in his tummy-yummy-yummy? Huh? Huh? Can’t he? Because he is super hype dyper sensitive, aren’t you? Yes, you are! You are!

- OH MY GOD, SHUT UP!! – Remy could feel his face, against his own will power and threats, melt in flames. His laughter being replaced by hysterical giggling as his husband changed his technique to spidering, slowly walking his fingers up before quickly drag his nails in random patterns the way down, going up and down one time more and after that a couple more of times, always managing to catch four or five snorts. – THIS IS SO DUMB, FUCK.

- Now, now, Mister Ticklish Master. Let’s not be a Squidward to the Tickle Monster, alright? He just wanna to hear aaaaaaall that adorably, lovely, helpless giggles of yours!! – Émile lowered down and touched their noses, his smile increasing as he felt the other’s laugh hitting his cheeks, his tune now in flying in joyful whispers. – And what a cute laughter you have! Definitely the most lovely, sweet and favorite lee of the Tickle Monster!

- ‘m not- ‘m not cuteyourbi-nOPLEASENOTTHERE- His words stumbled in each other, specially when his shirt was lifted and a finger began to squirm and scratches his bellybutton, his legs now kicking while his hands tried to get enough strength to stop the marvelous move. However, exemplary falling as the attacker focused some quick prodding in the exposed axillaries, receiving what was suppose to be an angry snort. Émile couldn’t help but coo one more time. – I’M. NOT. – He couldn’t help the squealing cutting his sentence. - CUTE. FUCK OFF!

Émile made a soft sound of sadness, pouting even if his husband was still with his eyes tightly closed, unable to see it.

- Now, it’s a pity that you don’t believe in the words of your own husband. – He switched to lightly scribbles and pokes at his sides and lower ribs, making sure to rub circles in each one of them while also gave his ‘victim’ some room to breathe and understand his words.

- Well… maybe, maybe he would… – Remy tried, really tried to frown and looks angry, but that was really hard with the giggles still interrupting his words. His body melting in the gentle, good touch. Totally against his will, for sure. - ... if his husband wasn’t being a jerk and tickling him.

He stared directly at Émile, therefore he didn’t lose the slightest which red freckled his cheeks, smirking, wobbly that is true, but also proudly in being the only between both who managed to say ‘tickle’ without shuttering. Sadly, though, he also didn’t lose the way his eyes and smile widened, showing that the other had an idea.

Butterflies started to panic in his stomach, especially when Émile’s gaze focused there with a ratter crazy gleam, his next phrase coming out as a soft, dangerous purring.

- You know… all of this made the Tickle Monster a bit hungry… and he heard that some lil lil lee has a very yummy yummy tummy right here. – His hands squeezed his belly, as if to prove his point. Remy jumped, the adrenaline running all speed across his body as the words starting to weight in his brain.

- Wait, WAIT! Émile!!! – The one being called slowly moved towards his target, ignoring the squirm and pleas from his husband, who grew more and more desperate as his attacker innocently smiled and looked at him, his head gradually lowering to his most ticklish spot. – Émile, Émile, please, I’m actually begging you. I’m begging you!! I’m cute, see? I said it!!! Émile!!!!

- I’m listening. ~

- No, you’re not! – His euphoric, hysteric giggles already began to take over his sentences. – No! Fuck!!

- No? – Émile’s lips already were resting on his belly, the word sending shivers across his nerves, which was not helped by the fact that the other absently shook his head, demonstrating his saying.

- No! No!

- A no to ‘no’? So that is a yes?

- nO.

- No? But what about the ‘yes’?

- Stop it! Oh my gosh, I’m gonna to get a bitching divorce!! It’s a no to your yes!

- Got it! It’s a ‘no’, then?

- Yes!

- A yes? Okay!

Before any other protest could fly from his mouth, a shriek did it first. And again. And again. And one more time, almost as fast as the nuzzled raspberries buzzing and the nibbles, together with the ‘nhom nhom nhom’s’ sounds, spread and madly tickled in a total oblivion to his kicks, pushes and loud, thunderous laughter painting the air.

It didn’t took too much before the cartoon lover stopped, already aware of the other’s limits, and touched their foreheads again, Remy’s breathing and reminiscent giggles being the only thing breaking the silence which involved them in a calm, cozy, warm feeling.

- You don’t look at me like that, your traitor. – His tune was free of any harm, his bright gaze and blushed cheeks locking his attention. Émile couldn’t help himself but kiss the pout out of his face. – And don’t you dare to kiss me. – Quick kiss. - I don’t trust in your sweet lips anymore. – Soft kiss. – They are a hell of a trap. – Giggly kiss.

- I love you.

Their eyes met, one more time, and Remy finally gave up, swimming in that deep, caring moment. Their hands intertwined themselves.

- I love you, too. – He lightly poked Émile’s ribs, winning a yelp before receiving the same treatment. – But only sometimes.

- Uh huh.

- What? It’s the truth!

- Sure it is, dear.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Their heart did, beating in unison.

52 notes · View notes

wildflowerwattpad0217 · 4 years ago

Text

Avenging Riverdale: Riverdale x Avengers/ Sweet Pea x OC!Tony Stark’s Daughter. My Reaction After Completing it and A Year Of Working On It.

This will include spoilers to my fanfic her is the link if you want to read it:

Avenging Riverdale

Masterlist

One paragraph is one chapter.

(not a chapter) Im going to be honest, in my mind their are two sections of Avenging Riverdale. Before my Brain Surgery and after because if you have read my fanfic all the way though, Author Notes and all, you know that I had to stop writing Avenging Riverdale for awhile so that I could focus on healing from that.

A trigger warning, good. Two part cast. Prologue. Tally is in deep shit. Steve picked her up and took her hungover ass to the living room. To Riverdale she goes. The horrible fake screenshots. I stopped doing that though because I couldn't find one for a group chat. Her and Tony's fights are rough. She snuck out to a soup kitchen. I feel bad for abandoning that. Cap found out. Tony put a tracker on her. Wtf but they are getting along. Now the Avengers are worried tho. They are shook they are getting along. After her dad became Iron Man things went downhill in her life.

Welcome to Riverdale. 'Murcia is Cap's group chat name. Short Stark is Tally's and Deadpool just got in it. His is World's Biggest Cry Baby. Peter's explanation of how he knows Deadpool is the most Gen Z thing ever. MJ is Tally's Slut. Tally is MJ's Bitch. Hello Cheryl Blossom.

Bucky has been eating Tally's cereal. She's acting betrayed. Veronica is surprised she didn't kill him. She heard someone mispronounce her name. She corrected them. Betty Copper. Kevin Keller. Kevin is fan-girling. She has blueberries. Jade Keller. Jade is trying to hate on her and her family. Cat Andrews. Jade is dragging her by the wrist while Cat is acting like this is a completely normal thing. Andre Clayton. Jade and Tally would've made a great couple. God damn my crush on Malachi and Sweet Pea. Andre is questioning why Jade just kidnapped Thalia Stark amd why she's at Riverdale High. Tally is questioning why there are so many redheads.

Betty warning Tally about Jade. Song writing with her new friends, Jade, Cat and Andre. She's allergic to roses. She doesn't want to talk about her family problems. The Welcome Back Dance. Archie Andrews. Jade and Tally are dancing together. I swear to god my gay-dar is broken. She rejected Reggie Mantle.

MJ being possessive on insta. Thalia punched Reggie Mantle. It's so weird looking back and seeing Tally not know what's going on her mom. Bucky trying to be a supportive boo. The first mention of Nick St. Clair. Her telling Jade what happened. Jason Blossom's body being found.

Omg, I published chapter 5 for 100 reads. That seems so long ago now that the book is almost at 45k reads. Tony and Pepper are getting married.... I didn't get them married until Endgame. Tony and Tally are going to Pop's. She is not at liberty to answer the question of whether or not she jacker War Machine's suit just so he would do the macarena without a lawyer. Bucky, it's her job to make you feel old.

Hydra nightmare. She's talking to her dad about the nightmare. Then she was like now that we had a hard time going down to the basement to tinker. Whether she wants to admit her or not I wrote her a lot like her dad. Malachi. Malachi obviously cares about Tally. Malachi knows that Nick St Clair hurt Tally. They had sex. I'll be honest with you, I wasn't sure if in the end she was going to end up with Malachi or sweet pea at this point I was still debating it. Malachi kept her hair brush.

Tony just apologized to her for pushing. Jade just stole her for a minute. Malachi left hickeys. I love Tally and Bucky's relationship. Tally is Pepper's maid of Honor. Tony's cooking?

Jade now knows about Malachi. Veronica brought roses in his school and Tally starred sneezing. Tally telling Reggie I don't need the Avengers to kick your ass.

Kevin knows about Malachi now. Nat as chasing Bucky. I love how tally is a moderator for these little fights. Tony is going to spar with Tally, he's going to get his ass kicked so hard. Bucky that $50 on tally. Cap betted $50 on Tony saying that her emotions would get the best of her. Tally won. But Tony is blowing it off like oh I let you win. Thalia Stark got a pep rally who would ever see the day. Tally thinks her dad's hiding something from her. Jughead expected her to have a stick at her ass. I love tally I really miss writing her. It's because of lines like Tony Stark is my dad, iron Man's just suit that just really make me miss her.

That was really sweet and it almost made me cry I forgot I wrote that part. Cheryl just got arrested for lying. Tally proving her genius. Reggie asked her on a date.

The Avengers just found out she's going on a date, they're not exactly happy well, the male Avengers aren't especially since she punched the guy in the face. Pepper is getting emotional. Cap answered the door. Mantle is shook. After the date, he dropped her at home and closed the door before he had a chance to kiss her.

Reggie mantle trying to slut shame tally. She is pissed, she ran into that boy's locker room. She's threatening to expose his dick pics. Which he thinks that it matters that she's not in New York anymore when she's the one with all the security clearance and she's Thalia fucking Stark. The extra points she got just because Reggie met The Avengers. Everyone keeps reminding her murder is illegal. Tally wants to destroy his car, Nat is like go for it and everyone's like Nat, no do not influence her to do this. Rhodey it doesn't think Tony should be supporting her in this. She got her revenge. Mantle is pissed, just actually wanted it. Her dad had a screaming match with the principal.

Malachi is starting to miss her. Toni Topaz. Sweet Pea. Fangs Forgarty. FP Jones. Beck Oliver. And Sweet Pea's nickname is born, Sunflower. Toni loves her. Mantle tried to apologize, but it was a shit apology so she blew him off.

The drive-in is being bought. Malachi wants me to come over after school. Malachi asked her out. He's giving her time to think about it. Family dinner.

Really bad nightmare. Then she had a panic attack because of the nightmare. Tony got pops burgers for breakfast.

Malachi and tally are officially in a relationship. The meeting of the New York friends and the Riverdale friends. Her dad's wearing an iron Man onesie. Steve is wearing Captain America pajamas. Clint is wearing a big bird onesie. Her dad is leaving from New York tomorrow to present an invention and wants her to go.

She is staying in Riverdale. Her dad asked her to stay away from The lodges. Tally you telling off Cheryl. Steve you fucking snitch. Talking about Tally's pranks. Peter is worried about her.

The accords. Tony wants her opinion on it. She thinks it's the most stupid idea ever. The governor wants her to sign it but she's refusing to. He doesn't want her to sign it either. She knows more about her mother than he's talking about. Honestly it is so weird looking back at this and having her mom not being revealed like this.

The accords meeting. Tally just walked out of school to be there. Tony knows he fucked up.

Rest in peace Peggy Carter my queen. Yes Nick, help her stop the fight in a Target parking lot. Tally is such a mom. When tally even bosses the King around, threatening to reveal his internet browser history. She just compared them all the toddlers. She just met Ant-man. Ruby Lodge is her mother.

Ruby Lodge also happens to be Hiram Lodge's little sister. Tally was born in Riverdale. I really abandoned the UN plot line.

Her and Jade are going to sing at the variety show. Take A Hint for the audition tho with Mantle in the crowd. Josie wants to talk to her alone. Veronica is pissed she didn't her they were cousins. Dinner party at the Pembroke.

Deadpool. After the variety show her and Deadpool are on the roof eating chimichangas. She's helping Betty look for her sister. She's going to go clubbing with Veronica, Kevin, Jade, and mantle. Cap is really easy lie to. Malachi is there and he's cheating on her.

She called Malachi a dirty mouthed whore. She just got a package from the Ten Rings. PROJECT INTERMISSION. right now she's thinking Hydra in the 10 rings are working together. She can't go to Polly's baby shower because she's doing some investigating of her own.

Soup kitchen talking to the serpents. Tony just asked what's the tea. Tony has so much faith in his daughter taking over Stark industries it's so sweet. Her and Cheryl are starting over because tally gave her some really good advice about being a female daughter getting ready to become a CEO.

Another letter from the 10 rings. Chuck is back. Jugheads surprise party. I forgot I put Cat's bibble addiction in here. The ones that watched Victorious will know what I'm talking about. I think Tally's birthday present is the best one he is received for a while. Cheryl wanted to know about the scars on her back during the game of secrets and she even it was like exposed herself basically she really didn't care though. To the Southside with Sweet Pea.

They really want to challenge Tally at call of duty. They're playing never have I ever. Toni knows about what happened.

Her mom was a serpent, and she went to the serpent's for help. Everyone is surprised that tally is a serpent by blood.

Her father told the truth. Jade scares Joaquin. That's cute, Sweet Pea thinks he can be tally in a game of pool.

She won. And sweet pea is confused why she is open about almost everything but her ex. They had sex. Tally is saying that they can't date because of everything that's going on and she doesn't want to put him in danger. Tally is in deep shit.

Tony and Tally had a big fight. Tony's kind of suspicious of tally right now because she's been acting off. Steve heard something about project intermission. Tally is terrified that Hydra is going to kidnap her.

They're still asking about project intermission. FP was just arrested for the murder of Jason blossom. They're holding an intervention for tally because they're worried about her. Malachi what are you doing there I don't remember this.

He regrets cheating on her. Malachi can read her like an open book. The blackmailed him into cheating. Tally just save Fred's life I forgot that's how she gets kidnapped. Alice Cooper is Thalia's godmother. She's dead. I wrote this and I'm about to cry. Someone stole the body. Project intermission.

Tony freaked out at the mention of the 10 rings. She's alive. The Avengers are finding out what happened with Nick St Clair.

Jade really just spilled everything to them I mean I would too if meant getting my best friend back but still. Tony went to go see Malachi. Malachi said he was more afraid of tally than he is of Tony. But he's still told him a lot.

Tally has powers. Thalia is so sarcastic I love her. Tally was able to send a message to them. By the time they got there the Hydra base was in flames and she was walking out of it. They forced her to go to the hospital where everyone was waiting. Tony tried to keep her in her in the hospital room but she was like no❤️.

The sexual tension between her and Sweet Pea tho. Interview by Sheriff Keller. Welcome home party. The Whyte Wyrm. Sweet Pea wants a slurpee. Toni accidentally ate a weed brownie.

Fangs has skittles in his jacket? FRIDAY you sassy AI. Movie night code red. Tangled vs The Conjuring. Nat has Thor in a choke hold. I always forget that Rapunzel's name translates to Lettuce. They all suggest movies and fight it out. First one is Sweet Pea vs Tally. I FORGOT I BROKE THE FOURTH WALL. Tally won. Tony is having a talk with Sweet Pea. Tally doesn't think Hydra is done. Imma be honest I don't remember most of this because the close it get to when I had my surgery the more fucked my memory became.

Reggie is calling her the walking dead. Swalia date. This is going to be adorable.

The memes tho. They ended up watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Things got heated then Tony texted tally. Her and her dad ended up working on the Impala when she got home. Tally told Reggie to fuck off. Her adoption papers came in so that she will legally be Pepper's kid. Archie's an idiot.

I love Pepper. Sweet Pea and Tally are officially dating. Jade and Kevin are freaking out. Her dad is freaking out not like Jade and Kevin. Cat is pissed at her brother. Bulldogs and Serpents showed up. Jade, Cat, Veronica and Tally stopped the fight. She headed to Sweet Pea's.

My fake insta posts were the best. Beck, Fangs and Sweet Pea just got arrested. Nick St Clair is coming to town. Mantle vandalized her locker. Apparently the same thing happened to her mom. She's not going to talk about Nick St Clair.

Tally telling Archie to keep an eye out for Nick St. Clair. Date night with Sweet Pea. He took he took her their hideout. She's contemplating filing a police report on Nick St Clair. They had sex in a treehouse.

Nick St. Clair is back. Veronica doesn't know shit. She finally told her dad. She going to report him. She told Veronica. Veronica confronted him at the party and now everyone at the party knows. She went to SVU. Then she went to MJ's.

They are going to arrest him at the open house. He has been arrested.

No more secrets? Holy shit. She now knows Alice Cooper is her God Mother. Really Tony? Why did you call her out in front of everyone? You could've just talked to her. He wants her to see a therapist. St Clair had a bail hearing. No bail. Southside High was raided. When he only like Sweet Pea because he's taller than Cap. Tally didn't realize it. Drag Race. Malachi vs Tally. Bucky is so chill about it.

(So Chapter 47. Is the where you guys find out that I am having surgery) Sweet Pea finds out about Malachi. Sweet Pea feels betrayed, angered. They're having a fight. Sweet Pea is afraid that because she kept this one secret EX from him the next thing you know she'll be cheating on him. Tally just told him I don't want anyone else. They said I love you. The drag race. Tally won fair and square but Malachi still thinks she cheated. Tony scheduled the appointment.

Apparently you can't teach Thor how to cook. Tally isn't allowed in Asgard. Tally just called Vision a toaster. And in response Tony said don't call your little brother a toaster.

Family dinner. Everyone is there. Sweet Pea just got there. Thalia is the moderator. Nick Fury scares him. They are grilling him. Mario Kart tournament. Cap won.

Sweet Pea sending her bad pick up lines. MJ approves. Jughead asked for a favor. FP is getting out of prison. Sweet Pea and Tally are talking about their future. (This is the last chapter I published before my surgery)

FP's retirement party. Tally inviting Sweet Pea to the Avenger's Christmas party and New Years Eve party and everyone else.

Her first appointment. Afterwards she went to the Wyrm. FP wants to talk to her. Tally has a spare key.

Social media special.

Trial of Nick St Clair. He lost. Southside High has been shut down. Jade's period is late. Jade is pregnant. Welcome to Riverdale High Southside Serpents. Mantle being a dick.

The uniforms. Message from Hydra, her mom is alive.

She's known. (Srry, this is when my short term memory was hell so I don't remember it.) Her mother is a hydra agent and was using Tony. She even talked to her when she was kidnapped. FP isn't happy that Ruby lied to them all.

Sweet pea trying to stand up for tally when Jughead was trying to use her Fame for peaceful protest now that's awesome but Tally's okay with this because it's a peaceful protest and something she agrees with and told him it's okay. They bugged his trailer. They have the tesseract from Odin's Vault testing against Tally's blood panel. It keeps calling her name.

Even though they told her not to tell sweet pea she did. Peaceful protest. The statue had no head the next day and tally woke up with a fever, despite the super soldier serum. And she has a fever. Bruce thinks it's because of the tesseract because they have similar energy they're fighting dominance. Next day she's feeling better, and is being questioned by the sheriff.

Foreshadowing much. She's realizing that she was born to her mother just become hydras soldier. Tally's idea is that well her mom's playing chess they have to play poker. Sunnyside is getting evicted.

Her mother is at the Wyrm. Hello Ruby Lodge. That was intense. Tally just thanked Pepper for being her mom. FP trust her.

Veronica's confirmation. Jughead and Betty found the head. Back at the Wyrm. Tall boy was the one who did it. Going to Lodge Lodge.

I think that's an accurate description of Cheryl. Jughead had to reassure them that everything was fine. The Jughead Veronica kiss. They get to stay in Sunnyside trailer park.

Hiram Lodge bought the Riverdale register. The break-in. They decide to go after tally instead of Veronica because you know she's a Stark. That was a mistake because they isolated her and her room and she was able to overpower one of them and take their shotgun away. She also paged her dad. Hiram Lodge owns pops. Ethel dumped a whole strawberry milkshake on Veronica. Reggie being a dick. Ruby Lodge broke into sweet peas trailer talk to him.

Ruby wants to make a deal. Basically what happened with Malachi where he cheated to protect his sister. Ruby said she wants to make sure her daughter is dead inside. Cheryl's missing. Sweet pea has been distant. Sweet Pea is drinking away sorrows. And he cheated to protect his little sister and his mom.

Jade slapped him. Tony is there. Fangs sent her a photo of Sweet Pea cheating. She's questioning everything. The Avengers want to kick his ass. She went to his trailer. Swalia is over until they get their shit together. Carrie The Musical.

She went to Malachi. She went there for help but they ended up sleeping together. They agreed to be one time thing. The plan started, Malachi would pick her up from the musical the opening night. Ruby stopped them, saying she would kill Malachi if she didn't go with her. into which Malachi admits that he still loves her. But she loves sweet pea. The tranqed her and she woke up in a chair. 5 months later she was in Sweden by herself safe and sound. What you saw an article about Archie Andrews being questioned for a murder. And she thought she might have evidence for it or could get it so she's going back to Riverdale. Then flashback 5 months ago Tony's point of view, Malachi showed up to the school after Midge was murdered. Tally is prime suspect right now. She killed a hydra agent. Then 5 months later. Tony is a pops when he sees his daughter walk in with blonde hair.

She got lectured from Steve about running off for 5 months. She wants to tent city. Her and Sweet Pea had a good to talk. Ruby Lodge.

She just wants to talk. Ancient Norse prophecy. Tony asked Thor and he gulped. There is a prophecy and Thor and Loki believe it to be about Tally. Odin agrees. In the final battle she dies. Thornhill.

Ghoulies. Malachi questioning Penny Peabody's motives and then putting the fear of Tally. Jughead wondering what that was about. The iCarly reference though. "If you ever do that again you're grounded for... Till college." "For till college?" "For till college!"

(So the reason I kind of stopped doing the Instagram post was because after my surgery I kind of just lost all creative initiative to do it.) The video tally turned in was ruled of questionable origin. Thalia Stark is under arrest. I don't remember this plot line. They don't have a very solid case. Matt Murdock, Tally's lawyer, wants to push the case to New York. Charges were dropped thanks to Nicholas fury. Archie pleaded guilty, Malachi is leaving. He wants to see her before he leaves. Tally told him he would hold a special place in her heart. Riverdale high, next day. They want to get Hiram Lodge arrested.

Sweet Pea and Tally are talking about what happened and Tally finally said what's been running through her head. Thalia is Jade's child's godmother. She told Jade about the prophecy.

Tony is acting weird at The mention of a game that hit Riverdale. Ghoulie hideout with Penny and Ruby. She scared the shit out of Penny Peabody. Veronica's grand opening. Tally is willing to let Sweet Pea try to earn her trust back. They kissed... No, they had sex. The manual.

Flashback episode. Secrets and sins. tally roasting her father. Ruby and Hiram arguing. The Ascension party. Tony basically explained everything to his daughter.

Sweet peas playing the game that Tony told her not to and she asked him not to. She said if you can please playing the game the deal is off so he said well done the deal is off and walked out. She's heartbroken. Archie prison fight club. Since tally is the closest thing they have to a trained doctor she is the one that's going to be at the bunker ready to patch Archie up. sweet peas apologizing. Starting Hiram lodges case.

Swedish Mafia. Sheriff Minetta grilling Tally. Casino night. Sweet pea and her hooked up again. Sweet Pea asked her on a date. After good advice my father she accepted it. When he came to pick her up Tony threatened him saying you already cheat on my daughter again I'm going to kill you which I think is Fair. After a good date he asked tally to be his girlfriend again. She said yes.

Cap wanting her to join RROTC. Not tally paying for Fangs mom's hospital bills. According to Pepper Starks are caffeine dependent insomniacs. Tally had cancer. Thor smashing a toaster. Cheryl the bitch.

Tally helping Sweet Pea study for SATs. Hiram got shot. Fangs is back in the Serpents. FP is Sheriff. Ruby Lodge. Half-sister Alicia von Strucker.

Sweet Pea is worried. Alicia meeting Sweet Pea. Jade's water broke. Thalia regrets not being there for Jade. She gabe her sister a nickname. Captain America Fitness Challenge. To the hospital to see her god child. Violet Thalia Oliver.

Alicia is 100 percent Ruby's daughter. Josie tried to ask sweet pea to go to her mom's wedding with her, Sweet Pea denied. Thalia defending her sister to the Avengers. The Pretty Poisons beat up Sweet Pea and Fangs. Tally rushed over to the Jones trailer where she had a run kn with Jughead's mom. She doesn't like Starks. Jughead now knows about her prophecy. Tally meet Jellybean and calls her an adorable human being. Jellybean fangirling. Jughead trusting Thalia with his life.

Jughead's mom being skeptical af. Tally didn't trust her. Chemistry Lab break in. Jughead asked her to help deal with it, as a favor. Kurtz just called her Malachi's ex-bitch. Sweet Pea is pissed but Tally's got it. After a little violence. She's going to go call Malachi. He gave some food advice. She made Jughead promise something. She caught Kurtz trying to kill Fangs. Jughead made her let him go. Sister bonding time.

Alicia's life story. The Gargoyle King sent her a message. Tally is keeping it a secret from Sweet Pea. FPs 50th.

HEATHERS PART 1. Call from Detective Benson, telling her Nick St. Clair is getting released because of 'overcrowding'. The Avengers are pissed, so is Sweet Pea. Tally is playing Veronica Sawyer. Alicia came to see her sister at rehearsal and brought her a red bull. Party. Okay, I'll admit that was a bad pun. Big Fun. She was tipsy for a second because of Asgardian beer. She steps outside, Ruby is there. She threw up on her biological mother's shoes. Tbh I tried to put more references to the musical in here. Dead girl walking. Practice next day. Everyone finding Nick St. Clair got released and them being pissed. Cheryl wants to castrate him, Reggie agrees. Que Nick St. Douchebag's entrance.

HEATHERS PART 2. When I published part 2, Chadwick Boseman passed away. Rest in Power. Sweet Pea and Archie holding her back but everyone who know exactly what happened was ready to beat his face in. Nick called Tally a ticking time bomb. He mentioned the prophecy. Tally threatening him. Tally has some explaining to do. Her going to Sheriff Jones to get a restraining order. Tally shading Steve. Seventeen. Dr Stephen Strange saved her life. Alicia texted her to meet her. She gonna blow up the school. Alicia cuffed her in vibranium cuffs, she called Shuri. Dead Girl Walking Reprise (What a bop tho) Kevin met her at the door she told him to evacuate the building as silently as possible. Boiler room. The fight for the gun. Alicia was dead. She was able to deactivate the bomb. She went outside where everyone was waiting and trying to calm Sweet Pea and Tony down. Then she saw Ruby and saw red. FRIDAY record the convo. Tally just said it's over amd told her mom to fuck off. Ruby is pissed because it's not her ending. Tally just walked away and kept walking. I'mma be honest these are my favorite chapters.

Since the funeral, tally isolated herself in a depression. Now she has a text from an unknown person to meet her at Sweetwater River. Chic. Malachi came to see her. They had a good talk, he made her realize some things.

Cheryl preaching the farm agenda to tally who's just trying to grieve her sister. So she gives Cheryl a verbal SmackDown. Toni being pissed about it. Tally doesn't want to go to prom, so instead she wants to take sweet pea on a date in New York. Betty's dad's prison bus exploding. Veronica being confused on why they would miss prom. I'm telling explains it she's like well I know when that used to be your preferred choice of setting. He's asking him to move on after the prophecy is complete and she's dead.

Veronica's Pop deed is fake. Veronica wants Tally to fight her father. Tally is unsure about it, she could kill her dad with a single punch. Toby agrees the best bet us Tally. Archie taking the ring with Hiram, could possibly get Archie killed. Fight night. He broke her nose. Tally did more damage to him of course. Hiram Lodge has been arrested. When her family and sweet pea find out that she was the reason Hiram Lodge got arrested in the first place. They were starting to get ready to go into business together and tell you didn't want Lodge industries to fuck over Stark industries. When she figured out moves from Avatar to last Airbender and legend of Korra. Her mom escaped from prison.

Avengers discussing protection for tally. Package for tally. Thalia Stank. It was from the gargoyle King but she played it off in front of the Avengers and just left. To go to the hunting cabin of the blossoms. Her mom is there. Time for the final quest. The first one is for Archie the grizzled beast. I love tally. Because when Archie says oh crap, she says I think you're allowed to say fuck in this situation. Archie wins though. Tally had to play Russian roulette to get her in with the swedish Mafia. The next task is for Veronica. All the chalices were poisoned so Betty and Veronica are both poisoned.

Tally's turn. The assassin card. Battle of Blood. Biological mother vs daughter. Thalia killed her biological mother. Jughead's turn. He had won. And finally Betty's turn. She shut off her dad's fingers. After Penelope give the order to kill them all Thalia made a giant barrier with her powers. The farm ascended, leaving Kevin behind. The Avengers were shocked about what happened.

Filler chapter. Therapist appointment. Pop's with her dad. Tally remembering. Sweet Pea checking on her. Sweet Pea wants to run away with her, maybe run away from all of it but tally knows she can't. Then the next week tally knew the prophecy would be complete.

The beginning of infinity war. Dr strange. Wong knows about the prophecy while doctor strange doesn't. Tony just trying to protect his daughter. Tally got knocked unconscious. Bruce woke her up, Tony and Peter Parker are in space trying to save Doctor strange and keep the time Stone out of thanos's hands. At the compound talking about what to do. Tally knows someone.

Tally dreaming of the infinity Stones and seeing Thanos. Shuri. Things have entered the atmosphere. Tally's iron daughter suit. The fight has begun. Cap saying fuck. Thanos is coming for vision. Telling us what's happening to the stones right now. She bloodbended Thanos but the Avengers couldn't get to Thanos quick enough to get the glove off so he snapped. They lost. Tally is gone and so is half of the universe.

Nat is regretting not getting to Thanos quick enough to get to the glove off of him while tally bloodbended him. Tony found out that she's able to bloodbend. Tony passing out. Going to go kill Thanos. Nat and Thor explaining Thalia to Rocket. Thor went for the head.

5 YEARS LATER. Natasha's point of view. Meeting, Barton murdering people, Steve stopping by. She's remembering tally, reminiscing with Steve. Scott Lang. Quantum realm. Tony's point of view. Morgan Stark. Them telling the plan to Tony. Him thinking it's risky. Tony is salty about the fact that if they were close enough when tally bloodbended than Thanos they could have been done they could have won but they lost. Scott's trying to play with his heartstrings, mentioning tally, his first born daughter.

Bruce banner/hulk talking about the time travel thing . Tony's POV. While washing dishes he looks at a photo thinking of his daughter, tally. He decided he has to do it to see her again. He figured out time travel. Pepper finding out you figured out time travel. He's going to do it. Natasha's POV next morning. Scott time traveling going wrong. Steve POV. Walking outside seeing car pull up. Cap getting his shield back. But there's something Tony has to do before he gets to work.

He went to go see Malachi. He want to let Malachi know that there was hope. Malachi gave him a flash drive of Tally's research guy she entrusted him with five years ago. Clint testing the time travel machine worked. When Tony opened the flash drive he realized that a lot of it was mapped out for him already. Tally made a video titled if we lost. Time travel time. New York 2012. Time Stone.

Tony's POV, then Steve's POV. Not Steve saying hail Hydra. Tony's POV. Scott giving 2012 Tony a heart attack. Tesseract sliding to Loki. Steve POV. "That is America's ass" I think that's all I have to say for that part. Bruce's POV. Him telling her that Strange gave it away. She gave him the time stone. Tony POV. Deciding to go to New Jersey.

1970. Tony's point of view. Tony seeing his dad and getting the tesseract. Steve's point of view. Getting Hank Pym to run down the hallway. Tony's POV. Talking to his dad. Avengers compound. Natasha was gone. Grieving Natasha. Making the gauntlet, Thor going to stop his fingers then stop him Bruce snapping his fingers. It worked. Then disaster struck a missiles blew away the Avengers compound. Thanos sat waiting for the Avengers. Thanos vs Steve, Thor and Tony. Tony getting knocked out. Steve POV. Picks up Thor's hammer. Everyone is back. Tally is back.

Tally POV. Tally and Tony reuniting. Female team up without Nat. Tally took the stones before he could snap."You are so fucked." She turned to dust. Tony's POV. She started glowing. He grieved. Sweet Pea is at Stark Tower. He found out she sacrificed herself. The funeral. Tally is alive.

The scene with death. When Tally woke up she didn't remember anything. Everyone is shocked. Wanda jogged her memory. She explained everything. She met Morgan.

Graduation. Tally's POV. She was the valedictorian. She's going to MIT. Sweet Pea proposed. When she graduated, taking on Stark industries, she made sure it was clear the weapons will never be apart of Stark Industries again. When Sweet Pea and Tally got married she found out she was pregnant. Sweet Pea's name is this is Nathan Mantle. In the end they had 3 kids. Nick St. Clair got killed by the Swedish Mafia. She is the Iron Daughter.

Overall, I'm going to admit I don't remember writing half of this story because of my brain surgery and I was working on it during this. I love this story, it is my first time reading it all at once but I am partial to it because I worked on it for almost a full year and is the first Riverdale x Avengers crossover fic on wattpad. There is somethings I was contemplating, like who she was going to end up with, if she was going to die in the first snap or not. I was also going to do a part where she goes into hiding with Harley from Iron Man 3 and works as a waitress in a little diner as a cover, saying she's Harley's cousin, wearing a wig and contacts but I felt that'd make the story too long. But there are a few things I'm iffy about so 9/10.

#Avenging Riverdale #riverdale x avengers #wattpad #wildflower fanfiction #wildflower stories #steve rogers #tony stark #sweet pea riverdale #sweet pea x oc #veronica lodge #pepperpotts #Avengers #riverdale

7 notes · View notes

louiserandom · 5 years ago

Text

Raffle prize! :3

echoes of the stars

for: the amazing, sweet and supportive @edthemastershark💙

Rating: T

Pairing: MadaTobi

A/N: very belated prize >.> didn’t realize how busy I’d be, but I hope you still enjoy it, Ed :3

P.S. about other prizes: @kitsunesongs, I’m struggling to make your fic short and coherent but might just end up with a fluff-angsty wall of plot... we’ll see how it goes😃 and @benzen-c6h6, THERE SHALL BE MERMAIDS😍

Meow :3 Read on AO3 or continue under the cut!

———

“You’re far away,” Madara’s amused voice wrests Tobirama’s mind away from his musings.

Tobirama looks over to his partner, allowing himself a tentative smile.

“Just thinking,” he says.

“Not about me, it seems,” Madara says, fake pout and all, “unacceptable.”

Tobirama simply rolls his eyes. “Allow me to correct this gravest of missteps. Truly, a travesty.”

Madara opens his mouth, probably to drop another quip, and Tobirama promptly shuts it with a kiss, a habit that’s engrained in him by now, despite the lingering novelty of their relationship. Hot lips brush against his, and an equally fiery chakra rushes to meet Tobirama’s ice-cold signature, both sensing the other’s mounting pleasure, the energy tantalizing as their chakras coalesce. Tobirama leans back against the rock behind him and tugs Madara into his lap, coaxing his lips open and earning a delectable moan that makes him feel all kinds of fuzzy and tingly.

Words he’d never thought he’d use to describe his once well-controlled feelings, but it seems Anija’s sappy wording is rubbing off on him now that he finds himself falling for his once enemy, later friend, later best friend and now—

They draw away for breath, then sink into another kiss, as slow and languid as the first, which does nothing to quell the desire Tobirama feels simmering in the base of his stomach. It takes all his self-restraint not to whine as Madara pulls away once more.

“I love,” Madara’s voice hitches, “l-love when you do that. But better stop unless you want our first time to be in public.”

“We’re hardly in public,” Tobirama says, running his hands along Madara’s sides, “but—I really wouldn’t like to do this on top of Anija’s head statue.”

“Ah, right,” Madara remembers what spot they’ve chosen for their night picnic. “Well, first, someone could see through the genjutsu. And yes, your brother can go to hell with this stupid fucking head. I forgot that it’s already finished. There’s no escaping it, is there?” he laments, probably wondering exactly how much Hashirama’s going to pout if he smacks the engraving off with his Susanoo.

“Don’t you have perfect memory?”

“Haven’t looked at it with the Sharingan yet,” Madara says, long-suffering, “so I can make my brain forget it.

Tobirama lets out a laugh. “Lucky you. I had to deal with eidetic memory most of my childhood and had no way of turning it off. Every one of Anija’s embarrassing antics, heaps upon heaps of his atrocious handwriting and every single one of his whiny rants embedded in my memory. It was a nightmare.”

“Ouch,” Madara sympathizes, “my condolences for your childhood psyche.” He tilts his head to the side. “What changed?”

“Memory becomes more abstract over time,” Tobirama explains. “It hasn’t been studied widely, but some children are able to remember scenes in great detail, regardless of clan or dōjutsu. It can be… unsettling.”

“Especially if it’s memories from a battlefield?” Madara asks, bit hesitant.

“Oh, definitely.” Tobirama looks to the side, hands still playing with the hem of Madara’s haori.

Madara raises his hand, in turn, to caress Tobirama’s cheek, turning him back to face him.

“Is that what you were thinking about?”

Tobirama shakes his head. “Never mind. Seriously. It’s unimportant.”

“It is to me,” Madara insists. “And it’s not that—I mean, you don’t have to share whatever it is with me, but just…” He sighs, dark eyes glinting with moonlight as they stare imploringly at Tobirama. “Talk to someone about it? Please?”

Tobirama chuckles, burying his head into Madara’s chest to hide the blush he can feel warming his cheeks, so unused he is to genuine care that doesn’t come either from Anija or Tōka. And there’s that fluttering feeling again, making his heart race and rendering his thoughts incoherent. It’s unfair, what this man does to him. Illegal, the power he holds over his heart after just a few months of a tentative relationship.

“It’s not that,” Tobirama says, clasping his lover’s hands in his, “I trust you enough to share my worries with you, Madara. But I mean it when I say it really is… It’s fine.”

Madara huffs. “That is not the voice of someone who is fine.”

“That is the voice of someone who is just slightly bothered. By mundane things. Like a sprain or a lost kunai.”

“Did you sprain yourself or lose a kunai?”

“No.”

“Then you’re bullshitting me,” Madara announces, pulling his hands away and crossing his arms. “And I demand to know what—or who—upset you.”

Tobirama eyes him, suspicious. “If it is… someone, would you scare them half to death like the Hyūga that dared proposition me that time?” he asks, voice leaking derision.

“So it is someone! I knew it!” Madara says and, completely ignoring the question, demands, “Now, who do I have to kill?”

“No one,” Tobirama says, chuckling, “murder is off-limits, Madara. No death threats. No inciting interclan hostility because you think I can’t take care of an asshole on my own.”

“I never thought that,” Madara argues, shifting so he’s snuggled up with almost no space between them, laying head onto Tobirama’s shoulder. “I just wanted to take care of him myself. Because, uh, I hate assholes with a burning passion.”

“Uh huh.”

“I was born to fight them.”

“Right.”

“Destined by fate.”

“Oh really?” Tobirama feigns contemplation. “Well, in that case, I hope you’re not inflicting too much self-harm.”

It takes all of a second for Madara to get it, after which he pulls away and proceeds to tackle Tobirama onto the blanket they’ve strewn over the ground and tickles him, wordless but determined, taking no pity as Tobirama is overwhelmed by fits of tearful laughter.

“Fuck—Madara,” Tobirama breathes through huffs of laughter, “please—haha—stop godsdammit!”

“I’m an asshole,” Madara says wryly, “why would I listen to you?”

He does, though, relenting after a few more seconds of torment, leaving Tobirama breathless beneath him and not even bothering to dodge Tobirama’s punch to his shoulder. And the next one.

And the next.

“Done?” Madara asks, smirking.

“Fuck you.” Tobirama punches his arm again for good measure. “Tickling is off-limits.”

“Excuse me? You would be abusing it just as much as I do if I were ticklish.”

Tobirama rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest; tickling is his and Anija’s favorite type of mutual torture after all.

“Well,” Madara says, “was the exquisite torture enough to squeeze the truth out of you?”

Tobirama sighs, staring fondly at the lingering pout, the adorable frown and slightly ruffled hair that suits his lover so well.

(His and no one else’s, if Tobirama has a say in it. This trust, this closeness is something he decides he’ll never willingly let go.)

“Will you kiss me again?” he asks after a few moments of silence.

Madara eyes him, suspicious. “Are you going to tell me then?”

“Promise.”

And then Madara’s lips meet his, and the worries dissipate, as per usual, giving way to pure sensation. Madara’s tongue twining with his, his hands tangling in Tobirama’s hair, just as Tobirama wraps his arms around him and drags him closer. Madara ends up straddling him, which does little to help curtail his desire. Tobirama is glad to find himself lost in it, relishing their points of connection, the feeling growing overwhelming as their chakras mesh again, making them both moan and cling fast to each other, wanting, desperate.

“Fuck,” Madara groans as they part, “oh, fuck.”

“Good idea,” Tobirama breathes, vision hazy. “Stay the night?”

“Wh-what? Like, like, uh,” Madara stutters. Tobirama suspects he’d be flailing if his hands weren’t supporting his weight. “As in, stay the night as usual or?”

“I mean spend the night,” Tobirama says, “with me. As in have sex with me, Madara.”

It’s always best to be blunt with Madara, in any case.

And it’s been harder, with each passing day, to sleep next to each other as they’ve grown used to doing. Nightmares were kept at bay and breakfast became a less lonely affair, what with their brothers moving in with their wives and spending much less time with them as of late. And, of course, there was the added burden of keeping it in their pants when one or both of them would wake up with an erection. Madara insists on waiting, though, because apparently there’s something special about Tobirama’s virginity.

It’s getting more and more annoying.

Madara has stopped spluttering, finally, and sits up, shifting uncomfortably (well, too comfortably) on top of him.

“Well, we’ll—we’ll see about that once you tell me what the fuck is bothering you, Tobirama,” Madara announces, a light flush on his cheeks, waving his arm in a clumsy show of determination and knocking down the bottle of sake they’d placed on a nearby rock. “Fuck. Shit. Whatever, it was almost empty anyway."

“You will see that I’m tired of waiting,” Tobirama says, procuring a brand-new bottle of Anija’s signature moonshine from his storage scroll and setting it aside for later. “And Madara, I…” he trails off, staring helplessly into Madara’s eyes. “I was just thinking about how fragile everything is. It pisses me off.”

Madara frowns but otherwise stays silent, knowing to give Tobirama time to gather his thoughts.

“What we’ve built,” Tobirama continues, “the peace treaties, the village, the peace between our clans, finally and…” He claps Madara’s hands in his. It’s a wonder how soothing the gesture is. “This. Us. But not just us, you know—everything. I feel like it’s too perfect, too good, something that I always dreamed about because Anija dreamed about it, but while he always believed in it, I never quite could.”

Once he was old enough to grasp the more complicated concepts of settlement-building, Tobirama would stay late nearly every night, ignoring battles the ensuing day, ignoring his debilitating fatigue. He worked on infrastructure and administrative plans, education and tax systems, ideological documents and drafts of treaties for a potential shinobi, all the while listening to a despondent voice in his head telling him it’s futile.

A perfectly imperfect dream.

Tobirama’s eyes latch onto familiar constellations once again, so as not to see Madara’s deepening frown. He’s such an idiot and he should stop talking but something compels him to go on.

“And now, we’re here, and thank the gods Izuna’s wound is fully healed and my recklessness didn’t lead to another war. And new clans are joining the village, and we’ve restructured the recruiting system, but I can’t help feeling I’m going to do something wrong and fuck everything up. Or that I’m going to overlook something, and the future generations will have to deal with the consequences, and all that we’ve worked so hard for is going to crumble,” Tobirama says in the rush of one breath, cutting himself off before he reveals more of his stupid concerns. He knows what his father would say. To ignore the voices of doubt, stand up and act, to stop being a coward. “I’m sorry. I sound stupid.”

“You don’t.” Strong arms pull Tobirama into a tight embrace, and he ends up burying his head in the crook of Madara’s neck, breathing in the warm, home-like scent of musk and cedar, the slight tinge ash that always clings to Madara’s skin and the faint honey-like fragrance of his hair. “That is perfectly understandable, and you shouldn’t feel ashamed for being afraid.”

Tobirama takes a shaky breath, closing his eyes and basking in the closeness.

“I don’t think I can. I’ve never been scared of the future before, when it looked like war and death. Now it’s… happiness and I’m terrified of losing it, Madara.”

“So am I,” Madara whispers, grazing his lips against his ear, “so is your brother. So is everyone who put their all into building this village. Of course there can—and will—be mistakes. Of course we’ll fuck up at some points but,” he intersperses his next words with feather-light kisses, “I swear, Tobirama. It’s going to be all right.”

A proper kiss this time, soft and lasting just enough for Tobirama to stop shivering from the suddenly overwhelming dread.

“A stumble won’t mean defeat.” Madara tightens his embrace momentarily, flaring his chakra just so the warmth soothes Tobirama’s nerves further. “None of us knows what the future holds. None of us is going to be perfect. But you—Tobirama, you’ve done so much, started actually thinking of how to make this a reality before Hashirama and I learned to sign our fucking names on treaties. You’re the one that notices most of our mistakes and corrects them more efficiently than we could ever hope.” He shushes Tobirama with his finger when he’s about to protest. “And we’re all thankful for that. We are all there for you, helping you along the way and doing this together,” Madara promises, placing soft kisses onto Tobirama’s hands. “Everyone is trying their best, and that’s all any of us can do, isn’t it?”

It’s a challenge to keep tears from welling up, so Tobirama takes a few deep breaths to brace himself before he attempts to answer. His voice is strangled, close to breaking, but he ignores the weakness and says, “I know. Thank you. I’ll try to remember that.”

“Please do,” Madara says, smile evident in his tone. “And remember that I’m always here to listen.”

“Thank you.”

They spend the next few minutes quietly embracing and breathing together, chakra playfully mingling between them as the wind dances around them, whistling its restless melody.

“I’ve noticed you, too, tend to look at the stars to calm yourself,” Madara asks softly.

“Mm. Yes.” Tobirama lifts his head, giving Madara a quick kiss, and moving so he’s nestled against Madara, back-to-chest, facing the starlit canvas of the night sky.

“I used to find familiar constellations as a child, then outline figures in the ones I didn’t and think up names for them,” Madara admits. “Those two are Big Bear and Little Bear.” He traces the shapes with his fingers. “Because of the tails, see?”

Tobirama frowns. “They look like bowls with ladles to me.”

“Shut the fuck up with your bowls and ladles,” Madara grumbles. “You and Izuna have no imagination. Those are bears.”

“Whatever you say, Madara.” Tobirama chuckles. “Then here’s mine: that one looks like the symbol for pi.”

“A symbol for pie? Why the fuck would a pie even need a symbol? Those are Twins!”

They bicker over what each constellation depicts until they’ve run out of visible stars in their portion of the sky—and drained half of the moonshine.

“Well,” Madara says by the end of it, “we’ve at least settled who’s the more creative one out of the two of us.”

“You mean to say, who has the more developed imagination and who’s still a five-year-old,” Tobirama teases, not bothering to avoid Madara’s flick to his forehead.

“Dick.”

“Asshole.”

“You still like me.”

“And you like me.”

“I guess we’re stuck with each other then,” Madara laments. “Whatever shall we do?”

“Talk science?” Tobirama suggests, reaching for the moonshine and moving to sit cross-legged in front of Madara, who’s looking at him, one skeptical eyebrow raised. “There’s one mind-blowing fact we’ve just discovered about the stars, thanks to telescopes. Turns out they’re really, really, really far away and the light we see from them is actually from the past, because it takes so long to reach us. The worlds we see are millions, maybe billions of years old, and by now are probably dead and gone—but we’ll never actually live to see how they end.”

Madara blinks. “That’s depressing.”

“And… fascinating?” Tobirama tries.

“More depressing. But still cool, I admit.” Madara drains his drink. “Maybe there’s a world out there just like ours. War-torn and tired of war, building peace through trial and error.” His lopsided smile makes Tobirama’s heart skip a beat. “Makes you feel a bit less alone in the universe, doesn’t it?”

Tobirama returns the smile. “I don’t feel alone with you.”

It’s both sweet and hilarious to see the expression of utter shock on Madara’s face, and the blush that follows, and the spluttering before he settles on words.

“Oh, I, uh, yeah, me too! You’re, um, you’re okay.”

“And you’re remarkable, Madara.”

Tobirama is grinning like an idiot, probably, and Madara goes on muttering something about cocky self-satisfied bastards, before yanking Tobirama by the collar into yet another of their many kisses this night—and, hopefully, of many more to come.

#madatobi #tobimada #madara uchiha #tobirama senju #lou writes #fanfic #camp nano april 2020 #raffle prize

31 notes · View notes

corpse--diem · 5 years ago

Text

Organ’s Out Of The Bag | Morgan & Erin

Summary: Morgan interrupts Erin at work, eats her organs, and learns about the family trade. When: Week of 5/4 Featuring: @mor-beck-more-problems

There wasn’t a “How To Operate An Illegal Organ Trafficking Business For Dummies” book to help Erin work out the best system for organizing and storing frozen organs. Shocker. Buying a second industrial cooler would have been as expensive as it was suspicious, which made trial and error the only real option. It was tedious, and there was probably still a better way, but she’d found her groove. Hollowed, block-like shelving units had been attached to the far end of the wall. Other items were stored on top but she could lift the face of each one, almost like a locker, to fill and empty as needed. Only she knew where the latches were and only she could open it. A small feat, sure, but you had to take your wins where you could get them. Maybe she was finally getting the hang of this? That was a thought that should have sat more uncomfortably on her mind or deterred the smirk on her lips. If she had a spare moment at all, it wasn’t for that kind of introspection.

With her music loud and her focus set, she made quick work of it. Saran Wrap, label, and onto the next. Just another Tuesday. One more load to go and she could break for dinner. A figure filled the doorway when she turned, startling her backwards while some instinctive part of her reached for the knife in her back pocket. “Jesus Christ, Morgan…” she huffed out, freezing before she pulled out the blade. “You scared the shit out of me. What—“ she narrowed her eyes, her panic doubling in that moment. “You’re not allowed down here.”

After the video incident, Morgan hadn’t expected Erin to be someone who was okay with hanging out with her newly dead and only semi-feeling self. But aside from the body horror, Erin thought she was ‘cool’. Maybe Erin lived with death in a way that kept her from feeling it. Maybe it wasn’t a tar pit for her. Maybe it didn’t even pull, but could just...sit its ass down and let her be. Erin had her life pretty together, right?

Morgan traipsed up the entrance of the Nichols’ house since Erin had said she could just come in, but there was no sign of her, or any life going on in the house. So she turned instead to the lower levels where they had passed through for the ritual. She found her bent over a table with...organs. Bags and bags of organs. Morgan stayed put, hand over her stomach, her mouth watering. At least one of those was a heart, and those were thick enough to remind her of meat sometimes. But there was the whole other question of what they were doing here. Morgan didn’t know a lot about mortuary work, but there were too many different kinds laying around near each other for it to have anything to do with her ‘clients’. And if it wasn’t that, than maybe--

Erin turned just as Morgan reached for a bag of brains and a pair of eyeballs. She smiled, bright and sheepish. “Hi…” She drew out the greeting as long as possible. “We had plans. You said I could come and show you more weird zombie things?” Her gaze slid sideways to the table. Stars, it all looked so good. “I knocked, you didn’t answer,” she went onto explain, popping one of the eyeballs in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “And since I already knew my way around…” She shrugged and swallowed the eyeball, popped the other one into her mouth, doing her damnedest to savor it before she stuffed the whole table into her mouth. “So, anyway, what’s with all the random dead organs on your table?”

Fuck. Erin had completely forgotten about their plans. Not that she wasn’t excited for some extreme body horror and manipulation. Between the lack of sleep, the mimes lurking around every corner, and maintaining her day and night jobs, things were slipping through the cracks. “Sorry,” she shook her head, moving to turn the music off. “I got caught up in--” she started to explain, until she was watching Morgan pop an eyeball into her mouth like she was sampling an appetizer. It wasn’t bad enough that Morgan saw the goods, she had to snack on them too. Five minutes in and she was already out a couple hundred bucks. This was off to a hell of a start. “Stop that!” She ran for the table, collecting the rest of the saran-wrapped organs in her arms. Fuck. Fuck. “I was about to put them away,” she answered, aware that it was more of a nonanswer. “They’re not hors d'oeuvres so can you just--try to refrain?” She huffed, moving to the freezer. Glanced back, unable to feel just a little uncomfortable at the thought of being alone with an apparently snacky zombie. “I thought you just were into brains, anyway?”

Morgan backed away from the table, frowning as she cradled her snacks to her chest. “This is me trying!” She whined, mouth still half full. This wasn’t a good time to wonder if whatever species this had come from actually tasted better than the rabbit eyes she normally had, but the pull in her, the wanting, was so much she closed her eyes to enjoy the last gummy chunks sliding down her throat as she finished it off. “Um, so, funny story? Brains make my world go round, but dead bodies and viscera are like...well I never did even soft drugs when I was alive, but I can’t help myself. I’ve stuck my face straight into a dead baby deer. It’s like true love...in uh, you know, gross...foodie sort of way.” She swallowed the last of the eyeball, feeling embarrassed. Then she remembered that Erin was the one with the zombie buffet on her table. “You never answered my question. What are you doing with the zombie buffet on your table? This doesn’t look all that much like Funeral Director of the Year stuff.” She opened the brain bag and started to munch on that next.

Erin couldn’t help but stare with vague fascination as she watched Morgan explain herself, chewing on a half eaten eyeball. “I’ll try to remember that next time, then,” she winced a little, watching her money go right down Morgan’s throat. Nothing that could be done about it now, anyway. Flustered a little at the question, realizing Morgan wasn’t about to let up. “Well--I was saving that one for you anyway so, please. Enjoy,” she nodded towards the human brain she was already feasting on. A little sarcastic considering she was helping herself again but more genuine than not. Fuck. This wasn’t at all how she’d anticipated this little visit to go. With a long sigh, she pulled her rubber gloves off. “It’s--complicated,” she said hurriedly, clearing her throat. Had she ever actually straight up told anyone about this? Nic, Marley--hell, even Nell just knew. No explanations had been necessary. “And I’m a damn good funeral director. This doesn’t change that.” Her fingers tapped on the silver table and she eyed her carefully. “If I tell you, this stays between us, right?” Morgan was smart enough to probably figure it out at this point, but the assurance didn’t hurt.

Morgan continued to frown, miffed that she was on the pointy end of the sarcasm stick when she had been asked to come. What was she supposed to do, stay at the door all night and go home sad? But Erin seemed frazzled beyond being interrupted. Morgan’s dig at her above-board job proved that too. Morgan was even beginning to feel bad. She tilted her head, trying to get a better read on Erin. “I’m a zombie, Erin. I know all about awkward secrets to keep.” She started to edge closer, plucking a chunk of brain matter off to chew on. And, holy shit, she had to know how long this one had been left sitting and at what temperature, because it made her taste buds melt like burgers used to--but there were more important things to deal with. Erin had some kind of organ stockpiling problem, and maybe a ‘oops my friend knows I’m into some weird, sketchy looking shit’ problem. “If it helps, it looks like you’re running some kind of under the table organ pantry. So either I’m right, and I just made your job easier for you, or I’m wrong, and you have even more reason to correct me. But...you just saw me eat eyeballs and I used to sell people shiny rocks I transmuted out of garbage. I’m really not gonna judge.”

Erin chewed on the inside of her lip as Morgan spoke. Yep. Of course she figured it out. What the fuck else was a mortician doing with a bunch of unlabeled organs saran wrapped in the embalming room? All signs pointed to shady. This was entirely her fault, which bothered her the most about this whole thing. She fucked up. Forgot their plans. Something had to give, eventually. It was bound to. Juggling businesses, murderous mimes and actively trying to not be a shitty friend was a dangerous game. But she trusted Morgan, as much as that was worth. Had to, considering how calmly she was chewing on Mr. “Mr. Reid’s dearly departed brain, after taking out his eyeballs in less than five minutes flat. “Organ harvesting and trafficking, actually,” she corrected her, taking a deep breath after she said the words out loud. Just rip the bandaid off, right? Felt wrong on her tongue for more reasons than she cared to think about. “It’s--” she shook her head, glancing down at the table again for a moment, then forced herself to stare back up at Morgan. Fingers thrumming against the table again, her nerves alight. “My dad got into it before I took the business over and I got stuck with it because he couldn’t handle it. Please believe me when I say this isn’t something I ever wanted.”

Oh. Oh, this was something serious. Was Morgan still a person who knew how to take on serious things with new people? She was feeling okay today. Sort of float-y in a way that made a distant part of her worried, but she wasn’t tired. Not like she was on other days. But this whole—thing Erin was tearsely explaining wasn’t something looked suddenly less like a dirty secret and more like a two ton brick she’d been hauling for too long. Morgan could at least understand that feeling, even if the rest of the situation confused her. “Shit,” she said. “That explains some of the vague trauma you mentioned. I can’t even imagine…” She stepped closer, more confident now that she wasn’t in trouble, “Can ask if—I mean, is it going well? Are you...going to be okay?”

Relief came with the confession like an exhale. A momentary reprieve to that tension knotting in her chest for months now. The inhale felt just as horrible as it always had. The knot settled back where it knew it belonged in Erin’s chest. Morgan wouldn’t judge. She wouldn’t rat her out. But there was something unsafe about having it out in the open like this. A little bit of control was gone and that almost felt worse than the deed itself. “Good as it can be, I guess? It was a little rocky at first but--I’m getting there.” She tossed on a smile, raising a brow at Morgan. “Don’t worry about it. Just try not to eat my merchandise? Those eyeballs you demolished set me back a couple hundred dollars,” she teased, a chuckle in her voice to hide the very real pain there. Dale was a good scapegoat for that kind of thing anyway--the big oaf was as heavy handed as they came. She leaned against the table, glancing between the brain in her hands and Morgan’s gaze. “Is… that your first human brain?”

“Oh. Oh, shit!” Morgan cried, face dropping with dismay. “I really couldn’t help it. That’s not just like, me being weird. I can probably get Deirdre to reimburse you? I don’t have to mention the eyeballs, or the brain, if you don’t want, but I uh...don’t think she’d mind it either.” It was a little too late with the brain, so Morgan took a sheepish dip back into the bag to pull off another chunk. It was halfway up to her mouth when Erin said the word human. Morgan looked down at the brain again. “Oh,” she said, voice squeaking. “So that’s why it tastes so good.” She continued to stare at the brain. From the size of it, she probably should’ve known it wasn’t just some deer. But holy shit. You’d think there’d be fanfare or at least a good shock of agony over baby’s first lite cannibalism. But it had just been a really yummy brain, no more interesting than another until she’d tasted it. “Uh...yeah. If that’s what this is...yeah.” Was it bad, that it didn’t mean anything to her? That the only thought she’d had was how yummy? Sure, deer and raccoon and cow brain were nice. But this was steak. Or cheesecake. For all that it looked the same, the taste was enough to have let her feel good about something while she’d chewed. Then another question came to her. “Not to be gross, but are these...was this…” she jiggled the bag in her hand. “...One of your clients?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Erin finally gave a genuine laugh, shaking her head. Was that one of those zombie quirks? Like how amputated body parts turned to goo? “I actually really was saving that brain for you.” She had to admit, she was a little surprised at Morgan’s hesitation. This was a funeral home. No way she could’ve thought animal brains were more readily available than an actual human’s. Didn’t deter her, she noted, when her fingers dipped back into the bag. “Well,” she said, starting to pull off her blue scrubs, raising a brow. “My clients have some organs to spare. Waste not, want not?” She offered with a shrug. It was more difficult than she anticipated to keep her eyes off of Morgan. She looked the same, and if it wasn’t for the brain food she was gobbling down, it would’ve been impossible to see anything different about her. But she was eating a human brain. She knew what happened to some of the parts that left her basement, but this was the first time she’d witnessed it first hand. “Doesn’t bother you, does it?” Another pause as she tried not to overtly stare anymore. “You know, I swear I didn’t invite you over for this but--if that’s something you think you’d want on a regular basis, I can definitely help you out.”

Morgan looked down at the brain. She was still waiting for the horror to set in, but mostly she was worried what Remmy would say, or Deirdre. She’d only given her animal brains so far, not even an offer or a suggestion of anything else. They wouldn’t blame her for an accident, but liking it, enjoying it---Morgan saw herself split and cracked between two lenses. One monstrous, one that simply was. ‘Don’t eat the humans’ was the number one thing she heard from hunter types. It was even a question she remembered asking herself. Do they eat people? Do they hurt people? As if it made them inherently better, safer, if the answer was “right.” But here she was, some poor guy’s insides already in her stomach. And as much as she was troubled, it took effort to maintain. “B-bother?” She asked. Shrugged. “Does it bother you? You seem pretty chill with me eating in front of you, all things considered. I mean, would you really….supply that sort of thing? For me?”

There was some kind of internal struggle going on behind Morgan’s eyes. Was this weird for her too? She’d been snacking on them like Erin was going out of business. “I don’t know, maybe I should be more bothered,” she shrugged, running a hand through her hair. “But I fished them out of the guy, you know?” Maybe it was like how a butcher didn’t have any trouble selling even the most obscure parts of the cow. In this case, she was simply more familiar with the human body. “Doesn’t bother me,” she confirmed, giving her a smile to cement that. “Brains are a little more expensive, just so you know. But yeah. This is what I do. It wouldn’t be a problem at all.”

“You...did all this yourself? And the guy still looked like himself at the end? With the--” Morgan motioned to her skull. “I’m usually in a weird...zombie haze whenever I’m eating out in the wild, so things like being careful don’t really make it into the thought process. But...bones are hard. If you get it really wrong, you get a bunch of gross pointy bits in the food. Worse than eggshells in your fried rice. What do you do to get to the stuff and humpty-dumpty them back together?” But something else snagged her mind more than her curiosity, pulling her back. “You really mean it? About the not weird and the...supply? Just, you know, for sometimes? Really?” She wondered how expensive Erin was talking here.

“The brain’s usually always taken out during an autopsy, along with the rest of the organs.” Erin explained. “They all get tossed into the visceral bag, which then gets tucked into the stomach cavity. Makes my job easier because then all I have to do is take them out and pack them up.” This would make the whole process way slower and harder if she had to go in every time and dissect them herself, she knew that much. Her brows furrowed at the thought of Morgan out there in the woods, running around and crushing animal skulls. “Yeah, I mean it. Can’t have you out there chasing after squirrels or whatever all the time, right?” Wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. She shrugged. “My boss usually likes to charge a higher fee but I don’t mind cutting costs. For friends,” she smiled.

“Oh, wow. That’s...one way to do it.” Morgan realized with unsettling clarity that she had never thought of the mechanics of death before. When she had lost her parents and her friends, she had been too wrapped up in the loss and unfairness of it to remember there was something practical, even mechanical to death. Even in humans, with the rituals and the preservation that kept the flies and maggots at bay, there was something. A process detached from all that they had meant before the last breath went out. It wasn’t bad, or hurtful, it was simply...after. Morgan came out of her thought to look at Erin, steeped her whole life in this strange, thankless care. It was essential, even as it rattled and stung the rest of the world, her clients. She didn’t even have much of a chip on her shoulder about it, she just continued, and found a way to make “after” work for other people too. Well, maybe not “found,” but she was still at it. And now that the shock of discovery had worn off, she didn’t seem that ashamed about it. A rush of endearment filled her and she ran to Erin, brain still jiggling in the bag and pulled her into a crushing hug. “Thank you, Erin,” she said. “You’re a really good friend, you know that?” She lingered there a moment, trying to fix words to how...fine all of this seemed. Not normal, they wouldn’t be hiding in a basement if it was normal, but fine. She pulled away, backing up to hop on the table, taking another handful of brain. “You wouldn’t have heard from somewhere about how human brains taste, would you? I feel weirdly like...playing board games. And listening to the radio. Like there’s a hockey game on? I don’t like hockey, but if you know where to put one on--” She gave a thumbs up and took another bite of brain. “But, also, I’ve lost my foot like twice this week. If you wanted to check out weird things my bones can do still.”

Erin looked up just in time to brace herself for the shorter woman hurling herself at her. “Oh, you’re--,” she huffed out a laugh, genuinely struggling to catch her breath. For a moment it felt like she had just ran into a wall with arms. “You’re welcome,” she finished, briefly wrapping her arms around her. Morgan was a lot of things Erin was still trying to properly grasp, but she was a good one. Chaotic, but good. That much she did know. She held her hand to her chest when Morgan pulled away, laughing despite herself. “I’ve never thought to ask,” she answered honestly, leaning against the same table Morgan was perched on. “How does it taste?” When she started to prattle on more questions, things so specific to the man in the ziploc bag in her hands, she couldn’t help but stop in her tracks. “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly craving a tall, crisp IPA now too?” She asked, glancing back and forth between Morgan and the bag. His widower had carried on about the man’s favorite things to her just that morning before crying into her shoulder. “You don’t mean you’ve literally lost your foot, right?” As soon as she asked the question, she couldn’t help but realize how very wrong she probably was.

Morgan shrugged. “Rich. Like, a good medium-rare burger. Or like, cheesecake? It’s good. Rich. My mouth is literally watering eating it.” She took another bite. “Ew, IPA? No, I mean, I can’t taste anything anymore, but I came from Houston, and our beer culture is way to evolved for an IPA. Are you saying--” She eyed the brain pointedly. “I actually kinda know Mr. What’s-his-name? When I eat him?” She shrugged, a little uncomfortable. Having real, meaningful parts of people in her head wasn’t something she was sure she liked. But stars, whats-his-name tasted good. “Ooh, but actually, I did mean literally.” She kicked off her flats and wiggled her bare toes. “I don’t have anything to break them with, but if you got anything fancy in here, you can knock yourself out. Like--” She pressed them against a chair leg, more and more until they crumbled and bent over in a way toes normally shouldn’t. It was a satisfying sting of pain. She flexed them again and they righted themselves before both their eyes, only a little dislocated, really. She smiled up at Erin, kicking her legs with a little satisfaction. “I mean, when I ran into this scary eye-hands critter, I just lost the whole thing. And with the killer clams. But we’re good as new now!” She looked around the room for wherever Erin kept her music. “I do kinda mean it about hockey though.”

“Mr. Reid drank IPA’s,” Erin corrected, a slow smirk on her lips as she watched her. She didn’t have any particular thoughts about beer. Beer was beer. Some of it was good, some of it was bad, but it all got the job done in the end. She couldn’t help but stare as Morgan seemed to crush her toes, then flexed them back into shape again. “Whoa,” she said in genuine amazement. An idea sparked and she turned, digging into one of the cabinets. “Yeah, over there,” she said, pointing towards a radio across the room. She pulled out one of her biggest, thickest trocars. This wouldn’t hurt her right? Erin smiled, raising a brow. “Hey--can I try something?”

#wickedswriting #chatzy #chatzy: morgan #organ's out of the bag

11 notes · View notes

kimvvantae · 6 years ago

Text

puzzle; 3 (m)

➜ you and jungkook are best friends of a lifetime, even though your personalities are like unmatching pieces of a puzzle. the line between friendship and something more has never been crossed between you two - but that changes after a break up and a drunken night, when you not-so-accidentally cross this line to something much more. what happens when after this accident your unmatching puzzle pieces seem to match in a way you’ve never imagined?

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

genre: smut, angst, comedy; friends with benefits au; college au

warnings: lots of swearing, mentions of alcohol, explicit sex obviously, oral (f receiving)

word count: 10k oof

A/N: heyy everyone! many people asked for part 3 so here is a monster 10k chapter to make y’all happy uwu as always, if you’re interested in a next part let me know so i can keep motivated enjoy!

➜ Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!

« playlist »

“How does he do that?” you question, eyes narrowed.

Seulgi lifts her gaze from her phone and looks at you, quirking one eyebrow. “Does what?”

“Be so handsome,” you point at Taehyung with your chin.

Seulgi stares at him for some seconds and seems to understand what you’re talking about. “I have no idea.”

“Can you both stop drooling, please? I’m getting uncomfortable,” Jimin whines, crossing his arms, a scowl on his face.

You chuckle lightly and hit his leg jokingly. Seulgi rolls her eyes and her attention is back on her phone. “What? Are you jealous?”, you ask in a suggestive manner.

“No. It’s just that you do this whenever you watch his photoshoots. It’s getting annoying, you know? I don’t even understand why Jungkook still invites you two.”

“He didn’t invite us. You three literally invaded our apartment,” Seulgi states.

“This is not your apartment, this is the terrace, right? We’re doing nothing illegal.” he huffs, defending himself.

He’s not wrong though. Your apartment building has a huge terrace, and all the residents take care of it very well. There’s a small garden with plenty of plants, benches and tables, sun loungers in which you three are lazily thrown in, and a nice view of the city and the sunset – the perfect place to make a photoshoot.

You watch as Taehyung changes his position and facial expression once more, following Jungkook’s instructions. He lifts his camera to eye level once more and there are more clicks. It’s been twenty minutes and you wonder how many photos they already took. It’s kind of boring to just watch, to be honest, but since it’s Taehyung you can bear it.

The boy’s a sight for sore eyes.

Kim Taehyung is one of Jungkook’s friends (you don’t understand how Jungkook managed to have so many incredibly handsome friends), studies Arts at the same University as you and is a model in between. He’s pretty interested in fashion as far as you know, not that it is hard to notice: he’s always wearing fancy, sometimes eccentric clothing that makes everyone comment on it. He’s pretty popular as well.

Since you and Jungkook are best friends and are always glued to one another, his friends are yours too and vice versa, so you have at least a nice relationship with all of them. You’re not very close to him, at least not as close as you are with Jimin, for example. You and Taehyung talk sometimes, but you don’t even have his phone number.

That’s something you would like to change, though.

You were pretty interested in him some months ago. He was new at the campus, everyone was talking about him and he befriended with Jungkook (this boy might still be shy, but he manages to make friends pretty quickly now that he’s an adult) and he looked like a hot mystery to you. But it was before... well, before Mike.

The cold bitch inside of you thinks that now that Mike’s not on your way anymore, it would be fun to treasure this mystery. But the other side of you – the side that thinks with the brain and not with your ovaries – thinks it’s still too early for that. You’re not completely healed from that disease called “Mike”.

Besides, you have another trouble haunting you. Well, not exactly trouble, and not exactly haunting. And that’s precisely the question: you don’t know what it is yet.

You look at Jungkook.

He’s focused on his job, trying to take the best angle and the best natural light from the sunset. For any other person he’d look normal, but you know that black-haired bastard very well. He's uncomfortable.

Because of you.

Not that you don’t understand him, though.

It’s been some days since you “accidentally” fell on his dick again. Even though you are talking as usual (well, as usual as the situation permits), you still feel that weird, uncomfortable feeling linger in the air whenever you two are close. Something’s still wrong. You two are just acting like everything is fine when in fact it’s not.

And you’re the one to blame. Not that Jungkook was a saint – he was anything but a saint –, but you were the one to jump on his lap and make the guy lose his mind. He was the sane minded there, yet you pushed the situation. You literally corrupted his pretty little soul into doing something he didn’t want to (well, not that he really didn’t, but it seems he didn’t want to fuck his own best friend again and mess up your relationship even more).

That’s something you did.

Things are not the same as what they used to be and you’re scared. Jungkook and you didn’t talk about it properly, so you have no idea if he’s mad, you have no idea if he even wants to be your friend anymore. He said nothing, in fact. He’s avoiding the subject again.

You officially hate yourself more than ever. I’m a woman. I should think with my head, not with my pussy. That’s something stupid men do. What’s wrong with me?! I am a shame for my sisterhood.

You cross your arms and gaze at Taehyung again. He’s wearing white gridded pajamas (for God’s sake, who on Earth still manages to look hot in pajamas?! Kim Taehyung, apparently), and a light blue overcoat. He let his dark brown hair grow these months, so now he has a mullet cut (for God’s sake, who on Earth still manages to look hot with a mullet?! Kim Taehyung, apparently) that matches beautifully with his tanned skin. The more you look at him, the more you come to the conclusion that he has no flaws. A true Greek god.

“That son of a bitch likes to have a crowd,” Jimin murmurs, bringing you back to reality. You frown.

“Huh?”

“Taehyung, I mean. You shouldn’t soothe his ego so much. He’s already unbearable by himself,” Jimin explains.

You cross your arms and stare at him. “You’re telling me to stop looking?”

“Yes.”

“...you’re really jealous, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am!” Jimin exclaims in that whiny voice you’re so used to. “You never drool like this when Jungkook takes pictures of me!”

You chuckle and hug Jimin lightly, resting your head on his shoulder. “Don’t be like this, Jiminie. You’re super handsome, too. It’s just that I’m more used to you than I am to him.”

As Jimin huffs and you break away from the hug, leaning against your sun lounge again, you notice that for the first time Taehyung looked at your direction. Looked at you hugging Jimin.

You don’t know what to think of it.

“Besides, there are hundreds of girls wanting your golden dick, so don’t worry about me,” you continue, smiling at him. Jimin rolls his eyes in disgust.

“You really should correct this dirty mouth of yours.”

“I already tried. She’s incorrigible,” Seulgi murmurs, still focused on her phone.

“Y’all love me the way I am anyway, why would I change?” you say smiling sweetly.

“I think ‘love’ is a strong word. I just stand you.” Jimin says and you pretend to be shocked.

“What? So you’ve been lying to me all this time?!” you say dramatically, putting your hand on your chest, and Jimin can’t hold his laugh anymore.

“What soap opera is going on here?”

You look up and see Taehyung approaching, Jungkook right behind him. He has a faint smile on his lips. He sits at the tip of Jimin’s sun lounge and pushes his legs away. “Give space, I want to sit,” he groans, while Jimin complains and kicks his back lightly.

“Did you guys finish?”, you ask.

“Well, I think so. Jungkook just wanted to try his new lenses, isn’t it?”, Taehyung questions. He just nods faintly.

Jungkook is standing by your side, yet he’s not looking at you, eyes focused on his super expensive professional camera you helped to pay. He’s checking the photos he took, apparently. Jungkook usually uses his friends – Jimin, Taehyung and sometimes even you or Seulgi – as guinea pigs whenever he wants to test new lenses, effects or whatever photography techniques you don’t understand shit about.

Jungkook is wearing ripped jeans, a black oversized hoodie covering his head and round specs, by the way. And he looks hella cute. You love it when he wears glasses instead of contact lenses.

Of course, you were never unaware of the fact that your friend is handsome – I mean, unless when you were kids, because back then Jungkook really wasn’t that impressive at all. In fact, you don’t even remember exactly when he got like this: one day he was a shorty and skinny boy with his ridiculous bowl cut, another day he was a cute teen, and then boom - a fine ass man several inches taller than you and buffed in a way you never imagined. Puberty was a miracle to him.

Taehyung is filling a glass with the Coke you’ve been drinking while you three watched. You try not to stare too much – not that he didn’t notice your obvious stares before, of course. “So, what are you guys planning to do this weekend?”, he asks lightly.

Jimin is about to answer when you suddenly remember something, sitting up immediately. “Ah! I almost forgot!”

“What? Don’t tell me you remembered about a test this week or something like that-” Jimin asks, almost desperate.

“No, relax,” you shake your hand. “Joy’s throwing a party this weekend and she asked me to invite everyone I know. So, you guys are invited.”

You’re not lying here, but Joy was very specific when she asked you to invite Jungkook and his friends. Reinforcing the name “Jungkook” here.

“Invite everyone you know? So the whole school is going,” Jimin remarks. You narrow your eyes.

“I don’t know so many people. But yeah, she’s planning something big. The party’s 80’s themed, by the way, so everyone has to wear 80’s costumes.”

Taehyung frowns as the cold drink goes down his throat. “What’s the party about? Is she celebrating something?”

“No. She just wanted to throw a party. That’s how things work with rich people, I think.”

And yes, Joy’s super rich. She lives at the other side of the city in a high standard neighborhood, away from poor filthy people. Everyone knows it, and that’s why everyone wants to go to her party.

“Well, I’d like to visit her mansion,” Jimin wonders. “Are you guys going?”

“I will,” Seulgi says, voice hard. She doesn’t lift her gaze from her phone. The girl’s upset today, and her voice indicates it. You quirk your brow.

“You said you weren’t planning on going...”

“I changed my mind,” she snaps back, and you immediately know something’s wrong... you also have an idea of who caused it.

“And you?”, Taehyung asks.

You tilt your head lightly and rub the nape of your neck. “I’m not sure. I’m kind of avoiding alcohol, you know. And parties.”

Jungkook blinks.

“You’re still at it? We all know you won’t keep it for long,” Seulgi says and you huff.

“Gosh, have a bit of faith in me!”

“But why are you avoiding alcohol?” Taehyung questions, seeming interested. “Is it for health reasons or some religious stuff?”

You tilt your head even more, feeling a small nervousness. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that... I kind of mess things up when I drink too much.”

Jungkook looks at you for mere half a second, then his gaze goes back to his camera. Yet you notice it.

Taehyung chuckles lightly. “But you don’t need to drink to have fun at a party.”

“I don’t want to be the sober one in the middle of a bunch of wasted people,” you make a scowl.

“Cut the bullshit, Y/N.” Seulgi is finally looking at you. She’s really upset. “You know Joy better than anyone else here, it’ll be weird if you invite a bunch of people and don’t show up at all. Besides, you’re going with me.”

You lift your eyebrows at her. You don’t take her rudeness to heart; you know she’s not upset at you anyway. “Alright, master.”

Jimin gazes at you, confused, and mouths quietly, “Irene?”

You nod back. Jimin opens a comical smirk. Everyone is used to their drama at this point.

“Well, so I’m going too,” Taehyung says, smiling. You don’t miss how he says it looking directly at you. As if he decided to go when you confirmed you were going too.

Well.

“What about you, JK?”, Jimin asks. He doesn’t lift his gaze from the camera’s screen.

“I dunno.”, he says, unbothered. Jimin sighs.

“We all know you have nothing better to do.” the older boy says, making Jungkook roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Y’all really have to stop using this argument against me-”

“Alright, it’s decided, Jungkook’s going,” Jimin cuts him happily. “We’re all going! We should text the guys inviting them too!”

You shift in front of the elevator uncomfortably.

The atmosphere is heavy. You avoid each other’s gazes. You feel inexplicably too aware of yourself. Too aware of him.

Why it only happens when you’re alone?

Back up inside your apartment everything was fine. Instead of going home the three boys decided to just stick at your home (note: they weren’t invited) and you spent hours talking about everything and nothing at the same time, laughing and (eventually) kicking each other. Jokes aside, it was very pleasing to have everyone around talking casually like this. You love their company.

Of course, you did interact with Jungkook, and you two talked as usual. For a moment you even thought things were fine...

Until you had to go to the building’s entrance to meet the delivery guy.

Everyone was hungry so you decided to order pizza. When the porter called you to tell that it had arrived, you asked for help to take everything (they’re all a bunch of black holes of food, honestly) and – surprisingly but at the same time not surprisingly – Jungkook was the first one who jumped to his feet immediately and offered himself to do it.

(You noticed Taehyung seemed about to offer himself too, but Jungkook was faster. Poor boy.)

The moment you two stepped out of your apartment, this aura was back and you realized yet again: things weren’t fine.

You didn’t speak all the way down to the ground floor, nor when you took the boxes of pizza and bottles of Coke and payed for it, and aren’t talking at the moment while you wait for the elevator do arrive.

“You didn’t give my jacket back,” Jungkook suddenly says, startling you.

You look up at him for the first time, but he doesn’t look back. You know what he’s talking about: the black leather jacket he let you use that night to warm you under the storm.

You gulp. “Yeah, I know. I was planning on washing it before giving it back, but I didn’t have time. ‘Been too busy working and planning that project and all. Sorry.”

Jungkook nods softly. “Alright.”

Silence again.

The elevator arrives and the automatic doors opens. You both enter. Jungkook presses the button of your floor.

Silence.

You lean against the cool metal wall. He is a good inches away from you. Maybe he’s scared that you’ll jump on him again.

This situation is – once again – unbearable and you feel horribly bad. You think of something to say to break this silence, anything to say, but your mind doesn’t seem to be working as it should-

“You didn’t mess things up.”

Your eyes snap wide and you look at him.

Jungkook is staring at his sneakers, also leaned on the wall. He’s mentioning what you said earlier today.

“What...?” you say softly, your voice barely audible.

“I was pretty drunk too,” he continues, as if he didn’t hear you at all. His voice is low. His expression is thoughtful and there’s something more on his eyes, yet you can’t really get what it is. “So don’t take the whole responsibility to yourself. I’m also one to blame.”

Nervousness creeps on your body as you lean your head on the wall. It’s the first time he’s touching the subject so directly. Is this why he decided to come with you, so you could talk about it without anyone else hearing?

“Yeah. On the first time.” you mumble, feeling uncharacteristically unconfident. “But about the... the second time,” you hate the fact that your voice is trembling. “I’m really sorry, Jungkook. I... I shouldn’t have pushed things the way I did-”

“Y/N.”

You look at him. For the first time he’s looking back.

“Don’t apologize. You’re saying it as if you raped me or something.” you can’t help but chuckle lightly at this. Jungkook closes his eyes and leans his head against the wall, just like you did. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want to.”

You blink and stare at your feet. “Ah.”

Jungkook opens one eye and steals a gaze at you. “Why do you sound surprised?”

“I- I’m not.” you huff and shift uncomfortably. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to fuck me?”

Jungkook laughs at this and you feel your heart lighten a bit. That heavy atmosphere seems to lighten up too, almost as if the dark clouds that have been hovering over your heads are finally dissipating and giving space to the sunlight again.

At least you hope so.

“You didn’t mess things up,” Jungkook repeats, looking at you. His gaze doesn’t waver this time. “I’m sorry that I’ve been avoiding you and making you uncomfortable. You know me, sometimes... sometimes I chicken out.”

You frown lightly. “What? You don’t chicken out. You’re not a coward, Jungkook.”

He chuckles again, only this time he sounds much darker than before. He sounds almost sad.

Actually, you’ve been noticing sadness in him a lot lately. You want to understand why he’s been like this, you want to rip this sadness out of him, you want him on his normal state again.

“If only you had any idea...”

There’s a soft plin and the elevator doors finally open. He leaves first and you stand there alone for some seconds, confused – and afraid – of what he said.

When you enter your apartment again, that conversation is quickly forgotten. Everyone’s loud and laughing and hungry, so you busy yourself eating pizza until you’re full. And then they choose to watch whatever movie Netflix released and everyone’s talking about – not before you and Jungkook complained that you wanted to watch Infinity War for the hundredth time, but the others said that “not everyone is into this nerd shit.”

How sad.

Everyone finally quieted down: Seulgi is sat on her armchair (yes, it is her armchair and she doesn’t let anyone else sit on it... well, Irene’s the only exception), Jimin is being the lazy little shit he is and occupies a whole couch, you and Taehyung sit on the other, while Jungkook is simply thrown on the rug, his back leaning on your couch.

You don’t talk much.

Yet, at some point of the movie – when no one is paying attention – you feel Jungkook rest his head on your leg softly. At first you think he fell asleep, but he’s awake.

This is not uncommon. You and Jungkook are used to touch each other like this. If someone noticed, they wouldn’t mind at all.

But still, as his head touches your leg, you have a feeling that it was much more intimate than anything you’ve done for the past days.

“This is hell,” you murmur, astonished.

“The fashion hell,” Seulgi agrees.

There’s no other word able to describe the sight in front of you. Yes, this is hell: a hell of shoulder padded jackets, leggings, leotards, high waisted pants, plastic accessories, hairstyles stuffed in gel, glitter and so many bright colors you feel you’re going blind.

“I don’t think these people really understood the concept of ‘80’s costumes’”, you scoff, crossing your arms. “I mean, did they at least do any research at all?”

Even though everything you see indeed belongs to the 80’s fashion period, it seems these people are just trying to fool around with their costumes. They’re not using anything the right way. There are some good exceptions, however, and you’re one of them, since you’ve put much effort on your outfit – so much effort you’re even feeling bad since apparently no one took it as seriously as you did.

Seulgi is also in character (more because of you than her own efforts): she wears high waisted, baggy jeans, tennis shoes, a white crop top and jacket jeans. You tried to make as much volume as her natural straight hair permits, and that’s it – simple yet stylish. You’re very proud of your work.

“Don’t take it too seriously, Y/N”, Seulgi says lightly. “What did you expect? They just want to drink and get laid, it’s not like they actually care about their outfits.”

“This is offensive,” you whine under your breath. “A true offense against the goddess of fashion.”

“Being honest, I agree,” a male voice says from behind.

Jimin puts his arms over yours and Seulgi’s shoulders, a smirk on his face. You stop to analyze his costume: high waisted jeans, a sleeveless Guns n’ Roses shirt, a belt, and a red bandana around his forehead. His inspiration is Axl Roses, obviously – and he wasn’t the only one: you’ve saw plenty of guys wearing something similar. Yet, none of them are this handsome.

“Lookin’ good,” you compliment him, smirking and teasingly elbowing his side. Jimin’s smirk widens. He’s already slightly intoxicated.

“Yeah, I know.” he says simply.

“So, what about the house? You’re the one who was all excited to visit it,” you ask. Jimin nods his head, looking around.

“It’s impressive. Never been in such a place,” he remarks.

And he’s not lying: it sure is impressive. Modern architecture, large and well-ventilated rooms, glass walls, immense windows, everything pleasingly symmetric and technologic. The house has a minimalist decoration: everything is black, wood and iron. People are already in the large pool outside. There is also a wonderful view of the city.

It seems that every square meter of this place is occupied by people. You didn’t even know so many people could fit inside a house.

Joy didn’t come to play. There’s endless beverages of all tastes, special lighting that makes it look like a real club, and she even hired a DJ who’s only playing 80’s songs and remixes of such songs. She apparently isn’t even bothering at the eventual noises of someone crashing something. She probably already hid valuable belongings, you suppose.

“Impressive. Really impressive...” Jimin mutters again and you frown for a moment, slightly confused – until you notice what he’s looking at. A girl passing in front of you, wearing an impossibly short skirt, the tight fabric against her also impossibly big ass. You even blink for a moment, astonished at the view.

Alright, girls! Hope you enjoy the party,” he says, that perverted smirk you know so well growing up on his lips.

“Son of a bitch,” you murmur, staring at him with judging eyes. Jimin just laughs.

“You’re no better than me, baby. Now, for the chase!” he says, plants a peck on yours and Seulgi’s cheeks and leaves you, going after the girl with the monumental butt.

Jimin is a fuckboy, that one. This pretty, angelic face hides a monster. He’s able to get anyone on their knees for him. Truth be told - he’s worse than you. And being worse than you is a true achievement.

“Alright, I don’t wanna stand here the whole night,” Seulgi says. She looks pretty excited, but you are able to see something more in her eyes. A fire. “Let’s dance!”

You can already tell she is planning some sort of revenge against that particular person.

Seulgi is pulling you by the wrist to the middle of the crowd where music is louder and people are crazier. You hear voices greeting you everywhere – and yes, you know almost all of them. You invited them after all. Jimin wasn’t exactly wrong when he said you know the whole school.

For some minutes all you do is dance, letting your body flow with the rhythm of the songs freely, laughing and eventually talking to the people around you. Yet, you avoid drinking anything, even though at some point your throat is dry and you feel tempted to drink at least a bottle of beer, but you hold yourself. You know that after a single bottle, you won’t be able to stop and you’re actually putting much effort in staying sober. Seulgi is very different, though; she’s holding her second drink, and by the way her smile is widening you can tell she’s already tipsy.

When the DJ puts a slow, sensual song to play, you know it’s time to get out of the crowd. You can tell how many guys are eager to grind on you and you’re honestly not in the mood to flirt. You slowly make your way out, being squeezed by several bodies, until you finally manage to get out of the house into the terrace, a blow of cool wind hitting you immediately and you feel happy for it since you’re already sweating after dancing so much. The terrace is crowded as well, but it is still better than inside the house. The pool is full of crazy people jumping and splashing water everywhere, so you’re careful to make your way around it, not wanting to be pushed by someone into the water.

You finally reach the glass railing and lean on it, breathing some fresh air (well, not exactly fresh, since you can smell the scent of cigarettes and worse things). Joy’s house is placed at the peak of a hill, and that’s why it has such a nice view from the night city. A map of lights expands as far as the eye can see, shining in the otherwise dark night.

“Feeling tired already?”

You turn around to see Taehyung standing by your side, holding two plastic cups of drink. He has a lazy smirk on his lips and you feel your breath get caught on your throat for a moment. Gosh, how can a guy look this handsome?

“Kind of,” you admit, smiling, and make a face when he hands you one cup. “Sorry, I’m not drinking today.”

Taehyung’s smile widens at this. “I know. That’s just soda.”

Your look at him in surprise and your smile widens as well, honestly impressed. “Really? Did you find something alcohol-free inside this house?!”

“Yeah. After a lot of effort, I admit. I think I just robbed Joy’s fridge to get you this,” he says and looks very proud of himself as you take the cup from his hand.

Taehyung leans on the railing as well and looks forward while you get a sip of the drink. You can tell there’s no alcohol in it. Usually you’re always hesitant to take drinks from someone’s hand at parties like this (God knows what people put in their drinks), but you don’t believe Taehyung is that type of guy. “Thank you. That’s really cute of you, actually. You remembered what I said the other day.”

Taehyung nods softly and looks down at his cup. Are you going crazy or did he get flustered? Hell, he’s adorable. You want to pinch his cheeks. “And I was right too, wasn’t I? When I said you don’t need to drink to have fun,” he stated. “You seemed pretty excited back there.”

You look at him for some moments. Was Taehyung observing you all this time? The thought makes a nice feeling flutter inside your stomach. “Yeah, I think you were. But it’s still annoying to have drunk people around me though. Funny how I don’t think about it when I’m the one drunk.”

Taehyung chuckles softly at this, staring at the city ahead. He’s too damn good looking for his own good, and he’s not even trying. “It must be really bad, since it seems that literally everyone knows you. It even looks like it’s your party, not Joy’s.” You tilt your head at this slightly. He’s not exactly lying; you are constantly invited to parties because you know too many people, it’s even annoying sometimes.

“I’m thankful it isn’t mine, because if I saw so many people wearing ugly costumes inside my house I’d gouge my eyes out,” you scoff, drinking a bit more, and Taehyung laughs for real this time.

“I know, right?! They didn’t understand the concept of the party!” he says, all excited – just as expected, since he’s so interested in fashion after all. You narrow your eyes at him and hold your chin, analyzing his clothes.

“You’ve put a lot of effort on your costume, though.” You hum for a moment, thinking, then snap your fingers. “David Bowie?”

Taehyung grins and his eyes becomes thin cute crescents. It wasn’t a hard guess: he’s wearing a mustard suit, a stripped white and yellow shirt and his hair is styled in typical Bowie fashion. You know that any other guy would look stupid on this attire, but Taehyung is just so handsome and confident with himself and his style that he looks awesome, almost as if he just casually went out from a Gucci fashion show straight to the party.

“Got it right. I see you thought a lot about your costume, too. Cyndi Lauper inspired, am I correct?”

You let an excited laughter past your lips and Taehyung just looks at you, endeared. “Finally someone noticed! I’m so sick of people saying I look like Madonna. I mean, are they blind or anything?! It is obviously Cyndi Lauper, isn’t it?!”

“A polished Cyndi Lauper, yes,” he agrees with a nod and you understand why he says this; your hair is not as messy as hers, you wear less accessories and the colors of your costume match better than hers. It was all on purpose, of course, so you look like a 21st century Cyndi Lauper. “You look beautiful. The best costume I’ve seen so far.”

Again, you can’t help but smile. Taehyung is just so smooth. It’s obvious that he has been checking you out the entire night, wanting an opportunity to approach, and even searched for soda just for you, yet he’s not flirting blatantly and forcing himself on you like most guys do. It seems that Taehyung genuinely just wants your company now and you deeply appreciate that, because you’re not in the mood to flirt at all. Maybe Taehyung is approaching slowly because he knows you broke up recently? If so, then he’s definitely one of the nicest guys out there.

“Thanks, but I don’t agree. Joy looks better than anyone else,” you say and look past him to where the girl is standing, Taehyung following your gaze.

Joy is the true Madonna here, dressed just like her in the Material Girl music video. That tight pink dress suits her beautifully, since Joy is tall and have a model-like body. You can only wonder how much she spent on that costume. She looks exactly like Madonna, except Joy is an Asian and brunette version of her. She looks stunning.

But what makes you actually astonished for a moment is the sight of who is talking to her.

Jungkook is standing by her side, a bottle of beer on his hand. You haven’t seen him the whole night, even though you knew he’d be here because he texted you confirming his presence at the party. And he looks nice. He’s dressed up in the 80s hip hop style, wearing sneakers, jeans, a baggy bright purple jacket, a white t-shirt and a golden chain. You see a cap attached to his belt – one he should probably be wearing but you’re glad he’s not, because his hair is styled to the side, letting some of his forehead at sight. Knowing him, you’re sure that Jungkook himself would never come up to this costume and someone (probably Jimin) forced him to wear it.

And you’re thankful, because he looks really nice.

Like, really.

Surprisingly, you don’t see that look on his eyes that says oh my fucking God someone please take me out of this situation. Instead, he seems entertained on his talk with Joy, by the way he smiles easily. Joy is smiling too and touching her hair. Shit, she’s touching her hair. You knew right away that she wanted his presence specifically when she asked you to invite him and his friends, yet you didn’t expect Joy would be so happy because of it. In fact, before it you had no idea Joy was interested in him, because they’re not close in the slightest and honestly don’t look like the people who would get along well.

Seems like you were wrong.

You wonder what they’re possibly talking about for a moment...

“Do you think she’s disappointed to see that nobody took the concept of the party seriously?” Taehyung asks, bringing you back to reality. You shake your head slowly, giving them a last look.

“I think she gives no fucks about it,” you say honestly, looking at him and elbowing his arm playfully. “Besides, we both look very good. We’re saving this fashion hell from being a complete disaster.”

Taehyung laughs. “I think so.”

You just talk to him for several minutes, until your cups are empty and you don’t even notice. Taehyung is easy-going and doesn’t let the conversation die. You wonder if he’s always like this or if he’s making efforts to impress you, but you guess the first option is the true one, otherwise Taehyung wouldn’t be so well-known. And, just as expected of someone as well-known as him, people called him, probably his friends from his course. He looks at you almost apologetically before leaving, but you’re okay with it. He doesn’t have to stick by your side the entire night anyway, and you’re sure he wants to dance and have fun as well, something you’re not in the mood to do.

“We can maybe talk more later?” he asks and you see hope on his eyes. You know he’s not asking to just talk. He’s testing the waters to see if you’d be open to him.

The idea is surprisingly pleasant after all and you smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Taehyung smiles widely at this before turning around and heading to his friends.

You lean on the railing again, resting your chin on your palm, staring at nothing in particular. You’re not exactly feeling bored or anything, but you didn’t even want to come anyway. You just came for Seulgi, and because the idea of looking pretty was cool. Now that you already showed everyone that you’re a fashion deity, you honestly feel like going home.

“I thought you said you were just going to wash my jacket before giving it to me, Miss Y/N,” you hear him say and you roll your eyes automatically.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at you menacingly, arms crossed. You just shrug. “Yeah, but then I decided your jacket was the cherry of the cake.” You twirl around, provoking him and pretending innocence. You’re not lying, though: his oversized jacket was what made your outfit complete.

“But I want my jacket back,” he whines, leaning on the railing, still gazing at you suspiciously. You know he’s not serious though. Actually, he looks in a good mood.

“I will give it back, relax,” you roll your eyes again and Jungkook quirks one eyebrow.

“I don’t trust that. You’re always stealing my clothes!”

“That’s not true!” you gasp.

“It is! What about my grey hoodie? You took it one night and it disappeared.”

“You have, like, hundreds of hoodies, Kook. One of these won’t make a difference.”

You’re just teasing him, though, because you know that (different from many kinky guys out there) Jungkook hates it when you take his clothes or literally anything that’s his. He’s a possessive freak over his things.

“And that’s exactly why I’ll give your jacket back, because without it you’ll only have hoodies to wear,” you add, making him roll his eyes this time, but you know he wants to smile. He’s not really mad. Perhaps talking to Joy put him in a good mood? But why isn’t he there with her right now?

“Saw you talking to Joy,” you comment, narrowing your eyes at him maliciously, but Jungkook just stares ahead.

“Yeah.” he shrugs.

“She asked me to call you specifically, you know. She really wanted you here,” you add, a devilish grin growing on your lips. Jungkook tilts his head to the side at this, his lips turned down.

“She’s cool.” he says simply and you gasp, hitting his arm.

“Cool? That’s all you have to say?” Jungkook finally turns to look at you, obviously confused.

“What? We talked. I’m not lying, she is cool. Better than I first thought, actually.” he shrugs again and you roll your eyes, incredulous.

“Jungkook, how oblivious can you be?”

“Y/N, I don’t understand what you mean. I’m complimenting her, why do you look mad?”

You cross your arms and stare at him. He can’t be that stupid. “It’s Joy. The hottest girl in this party.”

“And?”

“And she wants your dick.”

Jungkook widens his eyes at this and groans, passing his hand through his hair. “Why do you have to talk like that?! Not everyone thinks about this all the time, okay?!”

“Sweetie, believe me. I can recognize a girl dying to get laid when I see one. You shouldn’t let this opportunity go!” you hold his arm, your evil grin growing, and Jungkook just looks down at you in visible disgust. “I’m not only talking about it, alright? Maybe you could give her a chance.”

“It won’t happen. Don’t try to be my cupid, alright? You suck at it.” Jungkook says sternly. You quirk one eyebrow up. “Besides, I don’t think Joy is the hottest girl in this party.”

And he stares right into your eyes intensely.

You feel your insides twirling. He can’t mean what you think he means, right? Jungkook’s not really the type to make this kind of comment about you. But wait, why are you even feeling nervous because of it? Why do you care-?

“The hottest girl in this party is that one dancing with Jimin,” he says suddenly, pointing with his chin at someone behind you both.

You follow his gaze and see them on the living room, their bodies grinding while they dance sensually. And yes, it is the very same girl you saw earlier today, the girl with a big ass.

(Deep down you feel slightly disappointed, but you decide to just shrug it off).

“Her ass is really something,” you agree with him, shaking your head. “Do you think she had surgery? I mean, I can’t believe someone can be naturally born with an ass this big.”

“She probably works out.” Jungkook comments, shrugging. “There are plenty of exercises to make the ass ‘grow’. You would know if you were less lazy and stepped inside the fitness center for once.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Mr. Bodybuilder.” You mock him, waving your hand dismissively. “But I wanna know her miracle. For real, it looks like she has Jupiter and Saturn side by side under her skirt.”

Jungkook laughs at this, shaking his head. You side eye him for a moment; you’re sure Jungkook’s not drunk, so why’s he in such a good mood? Yes, you know he doesn’t exactly hate parties, but he also doesn’t love it. You know very well he’d usually feel uncomfortable in such a crowded place.

“But hey,” Jungkook calls out, patting your arm slightly. “Your ass is not that bad, either.”

You nearly gasp.

Did Jungkook just say that? You’re aware you shouldn’t be shocked at all. He not only saw you naked but also touched your ass more than once. Yet you can’t not be surprised. Jungkook never mentioned the fact you had sex other than your talk inside the elevator; he seemed to pretend it never happened, actually, despite it being obvious to you that he thought about it too. You simply did not expect such thing from him. Jungkook barely complimented you, and certainly not in this way.

But then you see his eyes sparkling with playfulness. You don’t feel offended or bothered by it. Not at all.

“Excuse me sir, what did you say?” you mumble, trying to hold back your laughter and narrowing your eyes.

Jungkook shrugs again and crosses his arms, a hint of a smile on his lips. “What? I’m being honest. Your ass is quite nice.”

You scoff. “Quite nice? I don’t know if you’re complimenting me or not anymore!”

“It is a compliment! It’s kinda impossible to ignore your ass.” he says, cocking his eyebrows and you can’t hold your laughter anymore, smacking his arm.

“Hold on, are you admitting you check my ass out?! Jeon Jungkook, you are a pervert! I can’t believe it- my best friend is a pervert. I’ve been living with a maniac my whole life!”

In this moment, Jungkook leans down dangerously close to your face, startling you for a second, and mutters on your ear:

“If someone can be called a pervert here, that person is you.”

You swallow, your fingers unconsciously grabbing the railing more tightly. You know exactly what he means. You initiated sex that day inside his car. He’s not rubbing it on your face in a bad way, however. No, what you hear is that hint of playfulness on his voice. A teasing playfulness.

A dark playfulness.

A growing excitement boils inside your stomach. Is it what you think it is? He’s really touching the subject? You see that sparkle on his eyes, you see that smirk. You know what that means.

And you like it.

“You didn’t complain, though,” you say casually, careful to keep your voice low so nobody would overhear your conversation. The aura changed drastically between you two; it darkened, condensed. You can’t believe this is actually happening. You can’t believe he is starting it this way around. A hotness spread through your skin when you feel Jungkook approaching even more, gaze completely focused on your face.

“I have one complaint, actually,” he mutters, making you quirk one eyebrow. You’re not even touching each other, and you know that the people around probably didn’t notice anything going on, yet suddenly everything around feels too sensual, from the way he’s looking at you, to the way his body is ever so casually leaned on your direction, from the way you feel your inner temperature increasing. And at the same time it feels weird, because you’re flirting with Jungkook, something you never thought you’d ever do. As far as you remember, in the first time, you barely talked before started kissing mindlessly. And at the second time... well, there was no time to flirt at all.

And you’re quite surprised, because you didn’t know Jungkook was actually good at it.

“And what is it?” you ask quietly. He approaches his mouth from your ear again.

“I didn’t have the chance to put my hands on you the way I wanted.”

Your breath gets caught on your throat.

If you had any doubts before, now you have none. You can’t help but feel surprised; you didn’t believe it would ever happen again, even though you didn’t speak things straight. You didn’t want to mess up your friendship even more just because of your desires – but, hey... if Jungkook wants it too, then there is nothing wrong, right? And yes, you want it; it’s even scary how much you want it. Jungkook didn’t even touch you and you already feel yourself squeezing your thighs because you remember how it is to have him inside of you and you want it so fucking bad.

“If this is your complaint, then I’m giving you the chance to make up for it,” you manage to say, biting on your bottom lip to hold your growing smirk.

Jungkook stare at you for some moments, his gaze dark and his smirk even darker, and then he tilts his head. “This party’s kinda boring, isn’t it? Wanna go home?”

You chuckle at how he says it sounding so unbothered when it’s written on his forehead what he wants. “I was thinking the same thing,” you simply say, shrugging.

No more words are necessary.

You see yourself following him inside the crowd, heading to the entrance of the house. It isn’t easy to just leave like that, though; plenty of people stop you midway to talk, and you manage to dismiss all conversations. Nobody has to know that you’re leaving anyway. Of course, before following Jungkook straight away you search for Seulgi, just to find your roommate already drunk and it makes you hesitate to leave her in this state. She’s surrounded by her friends, though, and you see that Hoseok is one of them – one of Jungkook’s friend and yours as well. He’s a nice guy in who you trust, and you ask him to check up on her from time to time, just to be sure she won’t make anything stupid.

Just like that, you finally slip out of the house without bringing much attention. You didn’t even step on the sidewalk and Jungkook’s already calling out for a taxi going down the street; since he assumed he’d be drinking, he didn’t drive his way here. How responsible.

You both enter the car and barely even talk. The taxi driver is quick to start a conversation with Jungkook, something about soccer or whatever, and you busy yourself with checking up your social media on your phone.

It’s weird.

You’re turned on, there’s no doubt of it, but again – you don't even look at each other inside the car. Did Jungkook get flustered? Did he think well about it and decided it’s a bad idea? Would he send you home the moment you step out of the car? Why are you even feeling so nervous right now? Maybe you should think well about it and decide it’s a bad idea? Despite you already fucked twice, you still see Jungkook as some type of brother and it still feels like incest somehow-

The ride ends faster than you registered, and the taxi’s already parked outside Jungkook’s apartment complex. You pay for half of the price and get out of the car, a chilling breeze making you tighten his jacket around your body. Why are your legs shaking?

Jungkook enters the building ahead of you, and you just follow quietly. He presses the button and waits for the elevator. You shake your leg nervously. He checks his cuticles for a moment. The elevator arrives and you enter it, pressing the button to his floor.

The moment the automatic doors close, Jungkook is smashing his lips against yours.

He presses you on the wall, his arm hooked up around your waist, the other hand on the nape of your neck. His lips are hungry, fiery and desperate, and you kiss him back eagerly, your arms embracing his neck, wanting to break any space existent between you two. That hotness is back, and it is everywhere. You feel like getting rid of your clothes right here and right now. He grunts on the kiss, and the sound makes you weak.

You’re still kissing when the doors open, and you’re still kissing when you try to walk your way to his apartment, and you’re still kissing when he throws you against his door, and you just break the kiss when he opens it and you enter, Jungkook slamming the door behind him, not even bothering to turn on the lights, and then you’re kissing again.

His hands roam your sides and your back, and you giggle when you feel him squeezing your ass. You somehow manage to throw your bag to the ground, your hands gripping onto his hair. Jungkook’s lips then travel from your lips to your neck, leaving wet kisses there.

“Jungkook,” you call on a breathy voice, for which he just hums in response. You’re slowly making your way to the living room. “What if Jimin comes in?”

“He won’t,” Jungkook answers in between his kisses. “I doubt he’ll let that fat ass go away tonight.”

You giggle again. Your hands are gripping on his shoulders and you make him take his jacket off. His lips are on yours again, tongues entangling. Your feet stumbles on the coffee table and you almost fall, but Jungkook manages to keep you up, giggling softly. Finally, you find yourself falling on your back on the couch, Jungkook above of you.

The kiss becomes less hurried and hotter. Your hand travels under his shirt, touching his already hot skin, and you roam it up and down his muscular back, earning him a low grunt. He is kissing your neck again and you frown for a moment, hitting his arm, what makes him look at you with a quirked brow.

“Don’t you dare mark my neck like that again!” you warn him seriously, making him smile darkly. “I’m tired of wearing turtlenecks to hide the hickeys!"

“And what about the scratches you made on my back?” he asks teasingly. “You weren’t the only one struggling.”

“But it’s easier to hide a scratch on the back than a hickey!” you complain again, making Jungkook laugh. It's endearing to see that he is happy and actually enjoying it.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Jungkook grunts, and when he grabs your hips with both hands and grinds on you, you almost gasp. You can already feel his erection under his pants, and the thought that you managed to make him this turned on before you even started makes you feel wetter. “I don't wanna talk right now. Do you have any idea of how long I've been hard? It was getting embarrassing back there. That's all your fault. You should take care of it.”

You know what he means, and the idea of sucking him immediately makes you excited - is it weird that you miss the taste of his dick even though you just sucked him once? - but you put your hands on his shoulders instead and smiles playfully.

“No, you gotta do me first,” you say. “You said you would make up for it at the party.”

Jungkook loves your playfulness. You already know it. He looks slightly disappointed for a moment, but then you see the fire on his eyes that indicates he accepted your unsaid challenge. “Alright, Your Highness. What do you want me to do?”

You bite your lip and smirk.

“Eat me out.”

There it is again. The shamelessness. You two are not that intimate on this matter after you just fucked twice, but you have no problems in telling Jungkook to eat you - and he apparently has no problems in doing so.

That smirk on his lips makes you shiver before Jungkook kisses you again. “As you wish,” he murmurs before sitting up on his knees. He stares at your body and clicks his tongue softly. “Too much clothing. Let's get rid of it.”

Jungkook proceeds to take each piece of clothing rather roughly, showing how hurried he actually is. You unclasp your bra and Jungkook throws it away carelessly, and the look he gives your almost naked body makes you flush - not in embarrassment, but in excitement. It seems he's eating you with his eyes solely. It's weird, but that look of his makes you feel amazing.

He lowers himself above you again and starts to kiss his way down; lips, neck, breasts. He massages one boob slowly while his lips take in the other nipple, the hot sensation of his tongue against your cold skin making you moan softly. He swirls the hard nipple with his tongue and sucks it slowly.

“You smell so good,” he murmurs, making you giggle.

The excitement makes your blood boil when Jungkook finally leaves your boobs and kisses his way down to your stomach while his fingers are already holding the hem of your panties. He didn't even arrive there yet, but your pussy is already throbbing for some sort of relief. How is it even possible?

Jungkook seems to sense it, because you see his cocky smirk as he makes you place one leg over the couch, spreading your legs, and kneels down on the ground, your core right in front of him. He stares at your panties and tilts his head. “Already so wet. You're always so desperate for me, aren't you?”

“Shut up,” you groan as he manages to take the last piece of clothing off. “Just eat me out already.”

Jungkook chuckles darkly and the sound is enough to make you feel goosebumps. “Relax. I'll make up for it.”

In this moment, you realize that Jungkook really sees sex as some kind of competition.

And you have no reasons to complain.

He lets wet and slow kisses on your inner thighs, and for a moment you think he is going to torture and tease you to death.

He doesn't.

You hiss when Jungkook wraps his warm mouth on your clit.

He starts sucking you slowly, both of his hands holding your legs firmly. His tongue flicks on your clit, swirling around it; you throw your head back and moan. You also start to realize that being vocal motivates him, because as you keep moaning Jungkook adds more pressure - he sucks your clit and licks it, and even the squelching sounds he produces makes you wetter.

“You taste so good,” Jungkook murmurs, and the sight of his already wet lips makes you get crazy. “So sweet…”

“This is officially the weirdest compliment you've ever told me,” you say, chuckling for a moment, but your giggle becomes a strangled moan as Jungkook's mouth is on your pussy once again.

The single sight of his head between your legs could make you cum; black hair already a mess, wet lips, and those fucking doe eyes that are usually cute but in the moment look like the eyes of a hawk, watching your every reaction intently. Yes, this is a challenge for him - a challenge he won't give up of until he makes you cum.

Thanks God he won't.

You bite your lips when you feel his tongue slowly entering you - warm, wet and soft. Jungkook eventually groans, the vibrations it sends making you feel even wetter. This boy knows what he's doing and he's doing it right. Not many guys are so good at giving oral; let's be honest, some of them don't even understand what the clit is for. Jungkook knows. He really does.

He takes your whole pussy on his mouth, sucking it with much more pressure now, and you can't speak coherent sentences anymore. You love the sucking noises he makes, the sensation of his spit trickling down to your entrance. When he adds two fingers inside of you, they simply slide in with no problems because you're already so wet. Jungkook makes scissoring movements with his fingers while he licks your clit hard and fast, making you buck your hips unintentionally.

“Fuck- Right there-” you manage to stutter somehow, your lungs almost failing. Jungkook chuckles. At the same time you love this arrogant look he gives you, you also hate it.

His fingers goes in and out at the same time he sucks your clit, taking turns between sucking and licking hard. He runs his hand up through your stomach at some point and squeezes your boob.

Jungkook goes faster and harder as he notices your moans getting higher, your walls getting tighter. He leans away from you pussy for a moment, his fingers still inside of you, and he fucking smirks. Those pretty lips wet with your juices dripping down his chin.

My fucking God.

“Am I doing good?” Jungkook murmurs, gaze completely dark. “Are you gonna cum for me, huh?”

How dare he fake that innocent voice?

“D-Don't you fucking stop,” you say between the moans - and Jungkook's mouth is immediately over your core again.

You're a mess. Your sweating, you grab the couch tightly, your legs are weak, your entire body is tense. He's eating you mercilessly, like he has been hungry for days and you're the most delicious thing he's ever tasted. Jungkook knows you're about to cum so he grabs your leg again firmly to force you to stop bucking your hips, his fingers faster than ever, sucking you like it's the last thing he'll do on his life-

That fire immediately spreads through your body and you moan loudly, throwing your head back when you finally hit your high. Jungkook feels your walls convulsing and clenching around his fingers so he takes them out, staring at you with pride on his eyes as he watches your bliss.

For some moments, you just lay there, trying to recover your breath.

And in one second he's on top of you again.

Jungkook managed to get rid of his shirt somehow before you could notice, and you can't help but marvel his toned body. Everything about him is so firm… including his dick. You smirk at him and touch his hard member over the boxers; you can imagine that he is dying for some release.

And Jungkook is still smirking.

This smirk makes you feel very intense things.

“I'm not done with you yet,” he says darkly, and you feel yourself smiling in excitement. Being eaten out is good, but having that pretty dick of his inside of you is even better. You watch as he sits on his knees and gets rid of his boxers, his member standing free and tall, and the vision honestly makes your mouth water. If someone told you that Jungkook's cock is this pretty and big one month ago you wouldn't have believed…

“Enjoying the view?” He questions, quirking one eyebrow.

You can't help but scoff. Despite the current situation you're still too proud to just caress his ego like this. “You talk too much, did you know that?”

Jungkook chuckles, and you already feel your pussy throbbing as he takes a condom from the coffee table (this is Jimin's house, it wouldn't be surprising to find at least one condom pack in each meter of this apartment) and places it down his dick. “Ah, but you like it,” he murmurs, taking one of your legs and helping you to place your feet on his shoulder, so you're very spread. Fuck, you did this position that night and it was amazing. He probably remembers it as much as you do. “But if you want me to give another weird compliment - you look he hottest when I fuck you.”

Before you can say anything, Jungkook just fucking shoves himself inside of you all the way with no warning.

You moan, eyes popping wide. You're very wet so it does not feel bad - pretty much the opposite; his cock stretching you all at once feels amazing. Jungkook stays there for a moment, biting down his own bottom lip. His hands are holding your hips firmly. Boy wants to do all the work today? Alright, then. You're not complaining.

And then he finally starts to thrust.

His pace is fast since the beginning; the room is immediately filled with the sounds of skin hitting skin, heavy breathings, grunts and moans. There is something so hot about seeing this usually soft boy going rough on you like this. He thrusts into you balls deep, and this angle makes everything better, both because you have a nice view of his body - his toned abs twitching at each thrust, his veiny arms grabbing your hips, those firm thighs of his, just his sweaty form in general - and because he hits your g-spot very easily like this.

“You love it when I fuck you, don't you?” Jungkook groans, panting. “How does it feel like?”

It's clear that his question was not a rhetorical one - and you're way too insane to think straight. “You fill me up so good,” you say, but it sounds like an obscene moan. “Don't stop Jungkook- ah!”

You close your eyes tightly when he increases his pace even more, and at this point you're sure you'll have purple marks on your hips tomorrow because he's grabbing too tight. Not that you can care about it at the moment. You prop yourself up on your elbows and stare right on his eyes, and both of you smile.

For a moment you remember that this guy is your almost brother, that you're committing unofficial incest for the third time and that you're making your friendship get even more complicated - but seriously, who cares about these tiny details when you have a cock smashing inside of you?

You feel the second orgasm building up inside of you again, but this time you want Jungkook to cum, too. You start to clench your walls around him, almost too tight for him to keep his fast pace. Jungkook closes his eyes, mouth slightly parted, and damn - he looks amazing. Fucking a guy as handsome as him is not a chance anyone have everyday.

“My fucking God- you feel so good, I could fuck you all night,” he says, grunting, and you smile.

When you feel that you're close, you start to help him - although it is quite difficult to buck your hips too in this position and when he's going so fast. You can't control yourself again, moans getting higher, and you can see the pride on Jungkook's eyes when he notices he's about to make you cum again.

And he really makes you hit your second orgams in a row - walls convulsing, toes curling, eyes rolling back. Jungkook stops for a moment when he feels you're coming, and like before he just watches your body covered in sweat, your expression that could be mistaken as pain, but is actually pure pleasure.

After a few moments, when he feels you've calmed down, Jungkook starts to thrust again. You can imagine how desperate he is to reach his high, you can see how close he is. You still keep your walls tight around him, hoping it will make him feel better as Jungkook picks his pace once more - and since you already learned how being vocal turns him on, you decide to help him a little bit.

“You are right, Jungkook- I love it when you fuck me,” you say in that moaning-breathy voice that already makes Jungkook go crazy. You would usually never say this type of thing, but you're having sex and your filter of words isn't working well anymore. “You feel so good and big inside of me… come for me, Jungkook...”

You were right. It sure helped him, because after a few hard thrusts you see him coming, his deep grunt, his eyes closing tight, and then his body relaxes.

And then he collapses above you.

For several moments, you two just lay there and try to recover your irregular breathings. Your bodies are still burning hot, but you can't think of it, the sweat or anything else. Sex with Jungkook is something you never thought you would do - and it's something you don't really want to stop doing. He seems to think the same way, since he initiated things this time.

From lifelong best friends to fuck buddies? This is what I call character development.

“In my defense, I would like to make clear in advance that nothing that I say during sex is true,” you say after moments, making Jungkook laugh and prop his body on his elbows to look down at you.

“Really? So you don't love it when I fuck you?” He asks playfully, quirking one eyebrow.

“I don't love it. It's kinda good,” you say, pretending to be unbothered.

“And you're going to pretend I didn't make you come twice?”

“It was simply an accident.”

Jungkook laughs again and sits on his knees, taking the condom off. “Well, then I'll have to change your mind, missy.”

It is your time to quirk one eyebrow. “What…?”

In the blink of an eye, Jungkook is lying over you again. And he has that smirk.

You officially love that smirk more than you hate it.

“I said I could fuck you all night and I will fuck you all night.”

It's even embarrassing how you open the fatest fucking smile.

You laugh loudly when Jungkook lifts you up on his arms and takes you to his bedroom.

1K notes · View notes

elenatria · 5 years ago

Note

You are going to write Pacho smut? God bless you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah. Working on it. .__.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407543/chapters/48722309

The first rays of light shone over the deserted land as a reminder of a long-lost normalcy, a glimpse of how life ought to be everywhere else on the planet but there, on that barren landscape, that unique, eternally poisonous spot on the map.

The man and the boy drove through fields and farms where Pavel spotted many places they hadn’t visited before, the so-called “dirty villages” as opposed to the ones they had already cleaned of the lives and life forms humans had left behind. Bacho was keeping stubbornly silent refusing to make any stops, driving on until Pavel realized they were going around in circles.

He was about to ask why when the brooding man on the wheel broke the silence.

“I’m not supposed to be alone with you,” he grumbled, eyes staring straight ahead.

“Why--”

“You know very well why,” Bacho snapped. “I’m not gonna spend the rest of my life in a Gulag because of you.”

Pavel sighed. “I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

“What are you here for then?”

“Stop you from killing yourself.”

“What?...”

Pavel swore he had never seen a funnier grimace in his adult life. Suppressing a giggle he hoped his mentor was as good a lover as he was a driver: for all the shock in his bulging eyes, his experienced hands and feet were keeping the two of them steady and safe on their course to nowhere.

“I saw a dream,” Pavel explained, “we were at the opera, you were blowing your brains out with my toy rifle.”

“Jesus Christ, and you’re here because of a fucking dream?” Bacho huffed.

“I guess...”

The truck took an abrupt turn on the road between two fields.

“I have no intention of killing myself,” the veteran assured him. “And I still have no idea what you’re doing here.”

“I told you, it was my dream,” Pavel insisted.

“Start having different dreams, will you?” Bacho rumbled. “Try sex dreams, that’s what I do.”

Pavel licked his dry lips gathering up all the courage he had. “Who… who do you dream of?”

“What…?”

“Who do you--”

The brakes’ screeching sound smothered Pavel’s last words as Bacho pulled over on the side of the road. He released his seat belt and turned to the boy.

“You’re gonna get us both shot, you know that?” he pointed a threatening finger at his face.

“But Garo said you--”

“Never mind what that dickhead said,” Bacho spat, “this is Soviet land, not Afghanistan. If they caught us--”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--” Pavel stuttered.

“You’re sorry? Sorry?” Bacho laughed. “You have no idea what being sorry means, boy. No fucking idea.”

Pavel frowned; the last thing he needed that moment was being reminded of his inexperience.

“Maybe you could explain…?” he suggested timidly. He knew this was no time to have an argument with the man on the driver’s seat but there was an unchartered depth in Bacho’s eyes that was both horrifying and pitiful.

Bacho pursed his lips, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening in painful memory. “You weren’t the first to come to me you know,” he rasped. “Lost, wagging his tail for protection, sad puppy eyes…” He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm as if to fight off a lingering migraine. “JESUS fucking Christ…”

“I… don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand,” Bacho growled. “It never got serious, it was nothing, but the others could smell it on us, the potential, the… need. They thought they’d make him tougher, make a man out of him before it was too late. See, it was just a game to them, it was just…” Bacho squeezed the wheel until his knuckles went white. “They… They hazed him to death.”

“What…”

Pavel felt his heart sinking. It was unimaginable - the strongest, toughest man he had met since he had arrived in that god-forsaken place had stopped the truck in the middle of nowhere to show him the gaping wound in his soul. His only friend, his protector, drowning in an ocean of regret.

He lowered his eyes as if he had been there, as if he was responsible somehow. “I’m… sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Bacho chuckled bitterly like someone who had heard a million sorries in his life. “I assure you no one will ever be as ‘sorry’ as he was when he was gulping down water instead of air. So don’t try acting sad, you’re not him. And you’re not me.”

“I wish I were…”

Bacho turned to contemplate Pavel’s face. “You might want to take that wish back, boy,” he grumbled. “You are nothing like me, you’ll never be like me. Thank God for that.”

“But I want to.”

“You want what, to become an expert in merciful killings?” Bacho roared jutting his face toward him. “Fine. I’ll teach you how.”

He kicked the door open and walked around to the back of the truck. Pavel followed him with fearful eyes as he pulled the back of the stakebed down and grabbed a riffle. Before the young man could turn, Bacho opened the door, grabbed his arm and pulled him out, almost dragging him to the ground like a rag doll. Pavel had barely stumbled back on his feet when the rifle was hurled at him, punching the air out of his lungs.

“I’ve taught you how to shoot,” Bacho panted. “Now shoot.”

“W-why?” Pavel stuttered, his lips white as a sheet.

“BECAUSE I’M TELLING YOU, YOU FUCKHEAD,” Bacho roared. “Can’t you obey a simple fucking order?”

Pavel’s lips were trembling. “You… You told me never to point this gun at you. That was my order.”

“That was a rule, not an order,” Bacho corrected him, raging fire lighting up his eyes. “And I’m changing the rules now. Are you an idiot?”

“N-No…” Pavel whispered lowering his head, looking for a way out of his living nightmare among the rocks and pebbles under his feet.

“Then SHOOT.”

“I…”

For all his numbness and terror Pavel was trying to figure out a way to blow Bacho’s head with the back of his rifle so as to bring him unconscious back to the safety of the camp. Trying to talk him out of suicide would be pointless. He wished Garo had come with them, he wished they weren’t alone. He wished--

“I can’t.”

Bacho grabbed the barrel with both hands and stabbed his own chest with it. “Do a man a favour,” he snarled shaking the gun, digging it deeper into his flesh. “Isn’t that what you want to be good at? Merciful killings? C’mon, no one will know, you’ll tell them you heard rustling leaves and you thought it was a dog.”

Pavel was gawking at him wondering if it would be a good idea to let go of the rifle, leave him with it. They weren’t supposed to be doing this, fighting. They were supposed to be on their knees with prying hands all over each other.

“Why don’t you shoot me, Pavel…” Bacho pleaded, his gaze softer now, broken, welling up with agony. “Shoot me before I… Before anyone knows, before anyone suspects. Before you get killed because of me… Please, Pavlunya, do this for me… Please…”

Pavel felt Bacho’s grip on the barrel loosen for a second – that was all he needed; with one long terrified grunt he ripped it from Bacho’s maddened clutch and flung it beyond his reach. The gun made a circle in the air and landed a few meters away raising a cloud of dust.

Bacho, chest heaving, eyes of a lunatic, dragged his steps toward Pavel glaring down on him, clenching and unclenching his fists on his sides.

“That was a mistake, boy,” he groaned menacingly.

“No,” Pavel said. “You’re not gonna die, not on my watch.”

“You forgot rule number two,” Bacho snarled, his nose inches away from Pavel’s shivering ghost-like paleness. “Don’t let them suffer or I’ll kill you. I didn’t mean just the poor buggers we’ve been shooting down.”

“No,” Pavel shook his head pressing his lips shut. “No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I’m not shooting you down. Kill me, I’m not shooting you down.”

The unexpected blow that landed on Pavel’s jaw turned the world black as he fell flat, chest on the ground, hands scratching on rough pebbles to soften the fall. He sucked in a gasp filling his lungs with dust but before he could turn to face his attacker Bacho rolled him on his back, straddling him.

“Why are you doing this?” the dark-haired man roared “Why? You wanna die?”

“We’re dead anyway…” Pavel muttered with a calmness he didn’t know he had.

Bacho searched his face, his piercing, unreadable stare. Drops of sweat were sliding down his temples, falling on Pavel’s cheeks. Pavel wasn’t panting anymore, he was blinking slowly, his gaze patient, serene and fathomless.

“You don’t understand,” Bacho said with growing despair. “The things I want to do to you, the things… I would have you do to me, they’re not just illegal, they’re immoral.”

“I don’t care,” Pavel breathed as vivid images of his tongue doing sinful, wonderful things to the man riding him played behind his closed eyes, his throat dry as the soil beneath them. He repeated the words softly hoping the Georgian would finally realize his need for him. “I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care…” He raised his head and nuzzled against the tip of Bacho’s long hawk-like nose, his hot breath tickling the waiting, half-open mouth. “I don’t. Care.”

“Fuck—”

Before Pavel knew it Bacho’s hands were all over him and under his clothes, angry lips crushing against each other, eating each other out, a powerful, overwhelming tongue breaching his mouth, ravishing it, fucking into it. Never before had Pavel felt so many emotions at once; he was hard and desperate and longing for a hug and a good fuck, fearing for his life and Bacho’s life and it was all too much, too strong and he was losing his mind as he felt the veteran’s hardness swelling against his, hips rolling softly against his growing manhood, rocking back and forth, yearning for friction, for him. For his warmth, his adorable ignorance, his virginity. He knew it then, the answer to all his questions, to his loneliness; he knew and he would smile the happiest smile if Bacho wasn’t giving his lip a savage bite sucking on his juices, swirling his tongue around Pavel’s hotness, thirsty for more, thirsty for everything he had to give, every trace of his innocence, all of it. Every single drop.

He knew it and spread his legs to let Bacho’s weight sink between them, welcoming the intruder, giving in. He finally knew the answer to everything.

He was loved. He was free.

#chernobyl #chernobyl fanfiction #barry keoghan #pavel #bacho #pacho #ao3 #the boy #free #chapter five #pining #angst #guilt

28 notes · View notes

icecoldflames · 6 years ago

Text

(Chap. 6 + Chap. 7) When Parallel Lines Meet

Masterlist

Next Chapter | Previous Chapter

Chapter 6

The flying car was racing straight towards Patton and he had just enough time to dart out of the way.

Then Patton realized a tree that was right in the flying car’s path and he turned away as he helplessly heard the flying car smash into the tree.

Then, Patton turned around, feeling guilty that he didn’t do anything to stop the crash.

The round vehicle that was only self-driving was leaning sideways, the glastic windshield cracked so it looked like a spiderweb.

Patton hurried up to the flying car quickly, seeing some smoke coming out of the back and hoped no one was in it.

The glastic front slid up and an old lady stepped out of it.

“Stupid flying car,” the lady muttered, tapping randomly at the control pad in front of her. “This would have never happened if real cars existed today.”

Patton was relieved that the lady was okay. He walked up to the flying car. “Do you need any help, Ms?”

The seat belt retracted as lady turned her head and broke out into a crooked grin. “Well, at least there’s one person in this town who’s polite. Yes, I’d like some help. Can you help me get out of this stupid vehicle?”

Patton nodded and walked closer to the lady, holding out his hands as she stepped out of the car.

“Want to get my groceries too? I was just on my back from the store when this vehicle turned me down a side road and hit into this tree!” The lady said, crossing her arms and eyeing Patton.

Patton nodded. “Okay.” He leaned into the flying car and tapped in a few directions and the car stopped smoking and the back compartment popped open. “I’m James Norice,” Patton told the lady as he walked to the back of the plum purple car and pulled up the lid of the back compartment. Inside were three brown bags with rope handles.

“Sirena.” Sirena replied. “Now, my house is near here. Let’s go.”

Patton heaved the bags out of the trunk. “What about your car?” He asked, closing the trunk door.

“My son’ll buy a new one for me.” Sirena said nonchalantly, beginning to hobble down the streets.

Patton glanced back at the car before rushing up to Sirena.

“I’m gonna get my son to sue the car company!” Sirena mumbled. “That car was obviously a faulty.

“Who’s your son?” Patton asked curiously.

“Glendon.” Sirena told Patton as they passed a couple of houses and turned down a road. “Of course, he’s married but that cow doesn’t deserve my Glen.” She added in crankily.

The road which Patton and Sirena turned on was a street with large houses of varying shapes. Ovals, circles, the traditional square or rectangle, there was even a cone shaped house.

Sirena walked into the front yard of the rectangle house. It was a baby blue and the windows were tinted black, no doubt the windows where you could see out but not see in.

Sirena placed a hand on the front door. Patton heard a small click before Sirena opened the door to reveal a finely furnished house.

The floor was a soft white and the walls were a blush pink. The furniture was a blinding white leather and there was a holo-fireplace in the center, all kinds of bright, fake, green, plants scattering the area.

“Come along to the kitchen,” Sirena said as the door closed behind her.

Patton followed Sirena into a large wooden kitchen with a tile blue backsplash. The carpet turned into more tile and Patton felt blinded. The contrast between the dark wooden cupboards and the white and blue tile was very prominent.

“Just put them on the table. My robo-maid will put it away soon when she powers on.” Sirena instructed, pointing the the island table in the middle which had a bowl of fruit in the center of the counter.

Patton lifted the bags on the countertop and as soon as his arms dropped back to his side they felt oddly light.

Patton glanced at the time on the stove. It was about midday.

“Mr. Norice!” Patton heard Sirena call out from a room over.

“You can...call me Pat-James.” Patton said correcting himself as he came into what seemed to be a living room. He didn’t like to be called by his last name, let alone his fake last name.

“Mr. Norice,” Sirena said, emphasizing the name “Norice”. She was sat on a white leather couch and had her ankles crossed. “Sit down.”

Patton sat down next to Sirena robotically. It was something about how Sirena’s piercing blue eyes and her neatly put up grey hair that made Patton nervous. Was it possible Sirena knew that he wasn’t normal?

“What were you doing on the outskirts of the town?” Sirena asked curiously.

Patton breathed a sigh of relief. “I was going for a walk.” He lied. Patton didn’t often lie and he wished he didn’t.

“Not many things to look at,” Sirena commented. “When I was young I walked to the outskirts of town and there were plenty of trees and shrubs and berries everywhere.”

“That sounds nice.” Patton nodded. “Everyone must have been healthy with all the green.”

Sirena snorted. Patton was taken aback. Since he had met her Sirena didn’t seem to be one who snorted.

“The olden days were green but everyone was not healthy. Everyone was glued to their phones and there was enough take out and fat in food for forty five Frenchman.” Sirena said. “Everyone’s ‘healthy’ today because all you lot was born in a lab.”

At that moment Patton’s stomach growled loudly.

Sirena stood up. “Come along Mr. Norice. It’s about time for lunch.”

***

Throughout the day, Roman was getting worried for Virgil. Where was he?

His mind was filled with thoughts and doubts, something that had never happened before Virgil had arrived.

He wanted to leave this place as fast as possible.

A little voice in his head repeatedly told him that Mr. Edra would never in a million years give him his contract he signed two years ago.

But Roman couldn’t figure out a way passed asking Mr. Edra.

In the end, Mr. Edra had to know because he was the one who watched over all the children. It wasn’t like Roman would steal the file or just escape. No doubt Mr. Edra had some kind of tracking device on him.

Anyways, after that, where would he go? His parents could have moved houses and Roman could barely remember his street name and house number.

It was lunch time when Roman couldn’t bear to eat anything when the door opened and Mr. Edra walked through with a little girl clinging to his hand.

Her blonde hair was pulled back in a braid and her long bangs fell into her eyes. She had on blue denim overalls with a pink shirt underneath.

Mr. Edra was smiling like a proud father. “Children, we have a new child joining you all today. I would like you to all give a warm welcome to Canace.”

There was a chorus of “hello” and “welcome”. Canace didn’t look up through the entirety of it.

Mr. Edra bent down and said something quietly. Canace slowly made her way to the table Virgil had sat alone at just yesterday.

“Wonder where she came from,” Remy murmured.

“Maybe an orphan?” Roman shrugged, looking over to Mr. Edra as he silently shut the door. There were plenty of orphans that Mr. Edra had taken in.

It took a minute before the usual chatter arose.

A question popped up in his head. “I wonder who her scientist is.” Roman said quietly to Remy. “They must have employed a thirteenth scientist to test on her.”

Remy shrugged.

Roman knew all twelve of the scientists by name and which child they were paired up with.

Roman stood up. “I’ll ask her.” He stepped over the bench and walked over to Canace.

He sat down across from her. “Hi.” He smiled warmly. “I’m Roman. Roman Achbor.” He introduced. “Welcome to the children’s ward.”

Canace finally looked up and Roman noticed her eyes were brown with flecks of honey gold in them.

When she finally spoke Roman wasn’t sure if he heard correctly. “I’m Canace Edra.”

Roman’s throat went dry and his eyes widened. “Edra?” He gaped, feeling like he was a fish out of water. “You’re-“

Canace nodded slowly, looking back down at her lap. “I’m his daughter.”

Roman felt like faint. He forgot why he had come to talk to Canace in the first place.

Roman couldn’t believe Mr. Edra could put his own daughter through the torture of this. Going through the testing, the feeling like they were in a jail.

The whole reason of this entire thing not being illegal was that Mr. Edra had the consent of all the children. And Canace looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

Canace held her head and made a small squeaking noise like a mouse.

Roman felt sick. He wasn’t sick like in the olden days when people caught influenza and the cold. Lab-born babies were genetically modified to not catch viruses. And that included migraines.

And Roman only got his first migraine a couple of days ago when Dr. Cross injected that duper power liquid in him.

“Oh my gosh,” Roman mumbled. “Your scientist put that stuff in you to make you have a super power.”

Canace’s lower lip trembled and her face was pale. “It hurts.” She said quietly. “I wanna go to grandma’s!” Canace said, a couple of tears beginning to drip out of her eyes.

Roman didn’t know what to do. So, he began to talk. “I have a sister, you know.” He began to babble. “Always fiery and was always her own leader. She sort of reminds me of you,” he said.

“She would be sixteen now.” Roman continued, noticing that Canace was slowly looking up at Roman. “My house was a bright red and the window that was in my bedroom was an octagon.” He described.

Roman kept on talking, racking his brain for more details about his family he had selfishly left behind when he wanted to become powerful and be like Mr. Edra. He talked right until lunch time.

By that time, Canace was completely enthralled in what Roman had been saying. She was no longer crying.

However, she started back up again when lunch came to an end and all the other children began to go to their after-lunch testing.

“I don’t want to go back to him.” Canace said. “Please, I want to stay here. Talk about your sister again.”

Roman couldn’t. As much as he wanted to help the kid out he was putting the both of them in danger. Whichever scientist was assigned to Mr. Edra’s daughter must be completely under Mr. Edra’s spell. He would probably tell Mr. Edra if his daughter didn’t show up.

“How about this,” Roman said, standing up and taking Canace’s hand. “I’ll walk you to the testing and then speak to the scientist and see if he has anything for you headache.” Roman knew that after the migraine the pain would spread all over but decided that that would just make Canace cry even more.

Canace bit her lip and nodded, standing up and following Roman to the scientist hallway where then 12, now 13, scientists had their testing rooms.

There were plenty of extra rooms as the hallway was long. Only the first 12 rooms had been used.

Roman walked to the 13th door, thoroughly curious to see who the scientist was.

When Roman opened the metal door and saw the scientist Roman, electricity buzzed through his whole body.

Roman felt faint again and he let go of Canace’s arm. “What?” He said, his jaw touching the floor.

“Do I...know you?” Virgil asked, cocking his head to the side, looking at Roman like a stranger.

***

“Hey there,” Logan said, looking at Connie. “We don’t want to jump into a rescue mission.

“It’s risky. There’s so many things that need to be planned out first,” Kate said, nodding.

“What are you all talking about?” Ben asked. “We aren’t going to sneak into the government. The Markku group just wants dirt to spread about the government and then take the government down.”

“Virgil Bolter most definitely has dirt on the government.” Connie said. “He worked there, for goodness sakes.”

“She does have a point, Ben.” Kate said.

“And while we’re at it we can save all the children too. It’s not right that Mr. Edra keeps the kids to test on.” Connie added in, still standing up, a fiery passion in her eyes.

“Whoah, hold on there, Connie,” Kate said. “I agree with busting Virgil out but all those kids? There must be a least a dozen of them. It’s simply not possible that we could get thirteen people out of the government alive. Let alone that most of them are under the age of 14.”

Logan pushed up his glasses, wanting to intervene but not sure how.

“But it’s wrong.” Connie said, sighing irritatedly. “Keeping twelve kids as lab rats isn’t right.” She suddenly seemed to get a spark of an idea. “Plus, if we break them all out that’s 12, plus Virgil, who will speak out against the government.”

“How do you know that those kids don’t want to be there?” Ben asked.

Connie swiveled on Ben, her fists now clenched and her jaw set. “Would you like to go into the government and let all these people poke and prod you like some...some...some kind of animal!” She screeched. “Getting poked at and getting treated like some rats in a cage?” She added in. Connie looked close to tears. “Getting ripped away from your loved ones?”

“Alright, alright. Okay.” Logan said, standing up as well. He looked over at Connie calmly. “Sit down, please.”

Connie sat down with a sniffle as she wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. Kate handed her a tissue.

“Let’s talk this out calmly and professionally.” Logan said.

Ben opened his mouth to speak.

Logan cut him off. “I’ll call the rest of the Markku group over for supper. This is something that everyone needs to talk about, not just the four of us. And I need to leave in about an hour, anyway.”

Ben clamped it shut. “This is a bad idea, Logan.”

At the same time Connie said, “where are you going?”

Logan decided to ignore him and turned to Connie. “Nothing you need to worry about. Now, meanwhile we’ll all go downstairs and see if Virgil has made an appearance.”

“All of us?” Connie repeated. “Me too?”

Logan nodded briskly. “Yes. Now, let’s go. I doubt Mr. Edra killed him.”

They climbed the steps down and Kate powered on the computers.

Connie took a seat behind Kate and Logan and Ben sat down together.

“I’ll get into the security cameras,” Kate said quickly.

“I’ll send out the message to the rest of the group.” Logan nodded to Kate.

He picked up the landline phone which was black. He pulled out a single sheet of paper with the phone numbers of all of the group members out and began to punch in the numbers.

“What can I do?” Connie asked curiously as Logan waited for Eric to pick up.

“Just watch Kate and Ben.” Logan nodded to where Kate and Ben were. You’re new here.”

“AKA, this a precaution so you won’t do something stupid.” Ben said, clicking away at his computer.

“Oh, shut it, Ben.” Kate rolled her eyes. “She’s one of us now, treat her with some respect.”

Logan finished calling everybody in record time and when he got off the phone with Sophie, Kate was calling him over.

“Logan,” Kate said, her eyes not looking at him, instead fixed on the screen. “You might want to come here. I found Virgil Bolter.”

Kate turned up the volume and the four of them crowded around the computer.

“Virgil! It’s me! Roman!” Logan recognized the man from the other night, the man Virgil had brought along when they had been trying to escape.

Logan noticed that Virgil was in a lab coat and there was a little blonde girl standing next to Roman. She could have only been six or seven.

“I...don’t recall your name. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to do some testing on Canace, here.” Virgil said, clearly annoyed.

Virgil-“ Roman began but Virgil cut him off.

“Please call me Mr. Bolter from now on. It isn’t professional.” Virgil said, leading Roman out the door.

Roman looked panicked and Kate turned the view of the camera so they could see both of the men again.

“Mr. Bolter! Please!” Roman suddenly stopped and must have decided to change tactics as he then said, “Canace has a bad migraine from the stuff you gave her before lunch.”

“I’ll make sure to give her something for it,” Virgil nodded and practically pushed Roman out the door.

Kate turned the volume down again and spun to Logan and Ben, not saying a word.

“He did something to Virgil’s memories. Him and Roman talked to each other earlier before Mr. Edra took Virgil away. Virgil should know Roman.” Logan said.

Ben nodded and Kate bit her lip. “Then we can’t talk to Virgil if he can’t remember anything.” She said.

“But we can still get the kids, right? They still have their memories, yeah?” Connie piped up.

Logan crossed his arms, thinking. “I...don’t know.” He composed himself. “We’ll have to see. I already called everyone here for tonight.”

Logan then went upstairs to get some drinks and a quick snack for them all, before he had to leave, leaving Ben and Kate downstairs.

“We have to go in a save the kids,” Connie said, following Logan up to the living room and into the kitchen. “They can’t stay there like that.”

“I don’t know, Connie.” Logan sighed, shaking his head. “Trying to break out 12 children is quite a bit of work. It might take weeks or maybe months to work out a firm plan.”

“But we have time,” Connie insisted, getting four coffee mugs out of a cupboard.

“I don’t know how much time we actually have,” Logan said. He put a coffee mug back up into the cupboard.

“Hey!” Connie protested.

“You’re too young.” Logan said. “Caffeine isn’t healthy.”

“And you and Kate and Ben are going to drink it.” Connie argued.

“Yes, and the three of us wish we hadn’t.” Logan said, putting on the coffee maker.

“I’m 16! I can make my own decisions.” Connie protested. “Anyway, what can I have to drink other than water?”

“You can have freshly squeezed lemonade,” Logan said, opening the fridge and taking out a pitcher of yellow liquid.

“Lemonade was my brother’s favourite drink.” Connie said, almost subconsciously.

“Brother?” Logan asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, ahm, he’s gone to university.” Connie said, waving the question away. She turned to Logan and took the pitcher of lemonade, grabbed the coffee mug Logan had put back, and poured herself a cup of lemonade.

Chapter 7

Roman wanted to puke. Right then and there.

What had Mr. Edra done to Virgil? He didn’t even act the same. He wasn’t like the rebellious, back-talker, sarcastic, person anymore.

It was like Mr. Edra had completely brainwashed the guy to a carbon copy of Mr. Edra.

He at least hoped Virgil, or Mr. Bolter now, had enough of a heart left to give poor Canace some painkillers or something.

Roman walked into Dr. Cross’ room a couple minutes later.

“You’re late, Roman.” Dr. Cross noted.

Roman shrugged.

“What’s wrong?” Dr. Cross asked, closing a cupboard she had been opening.

Roman sighed. “It’s Virgil. Mr. Edra completely brainwashed him.

Dr. Cross blinked a couple of times. “What? You mean Mr. Bolter? That new scientist Mr. Edra brought in today?”

Roman nodded. “Yeah. Him. He used to be in the kids ward. But he didn’t go to testing.” He added in, looking up at Dr. Cross.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to spill everything to Dr. Cross or not.

For one thing, it would be nice to tell someone—especially an adult. But on the other hand, Roman didn’t know if he could trust Dr. Cross. What if she told Mr. Edra already that he was thinking about leaving and was asking about his contract?

Roman bit his lip. And swallowed down the words that were bubbling up in his throat.

“So, what am I doing today?” Roman asked Dr. Cross.

Dr. Cross glanced over at Roman again before walking to the cupboard and pulling out a glass jar. She placed it in front of Roman.

“See if you can make a rain cloud in the jar,” Dr. Cross explained. “Mr. Edra said it is of the utmost importance for you to try your very hardest.”

Roman nodded. “Okay.”

Roman stared at the jar and imagined a stormy grey rain cloud. Grey like rocks. With rain droplets tumbling out.

Nothing happened and Dr. Cross sighed.

During class all Roman could think about was Virgil and Canace.

And to think, he had wanted to become like Mr. Edra just a few days ago. A powerful figure who got to the top from hard work and dedication.

Sure, Roman wanted to rise to the top. But he didn’t want to be like Mr. Edra. Brainwashing a kid and putting your own kid through testing? No, Roman never wanted to become Mr. Edra.

Mr. Edra went from an idol to a nobody and Roman was glad.

“Alright, Roman,” Dr. Cross said, snapping Roman out of his thoughts. “Better run off to you next class now.”

Roman nodded and walked out of Dr. Cross’ testing lab. He glanced down the hallway and began to walk down the hallway. All the way to room number 13.

Virgil was still in the lab, writing something on his clipboard.

Roman awkwardly coughed.

Virgil’s head shot up and a face of recognition filled his face; and not in the good way. “Please go away.” He said simply.

“Um, I’m sorry for, uh, being rude when I came in with Canace.” Roman said. “I was just...surprised to see you here. Oh! By the way, did you give Canace some painkillers?” He added in.

Virgil set down the clipboard and stepped a bit closer to Roman. “Why were you surprised? I’ve always worked here. And yes, I did give Canace some pills for her migraine.”

Roman gaped. “Al-always worked here?” He managed to choke. “You absolutely have not!”

Virgil frowned and he seemed annoyed. His lips pursed and his eyes burned into Roman’s face. “I have. I’ve been here for five years. What do you know? You’re just some person we’re experimenting on.”

“Did Mr. Edra tell you that?” Roman asked.

Virgil nodded, picking up his clipboard again, twirling an everlasting pencil between his fingers. “I had a car accident and lost my memory. Now I’m back working.”

“You honestly believe that?” Roman asked. “You called him an old bat-”

Virgil cut him off. “You must have me mistaken for another Virgil Bolter. I would never call Mr. Edra an ‘old bat’, as you put it.”

What did Mr. Edra do to Virgil? Brainwash him and put him through finishing school? Roman sighed and shook his head. “No! Of course not! You’re Virgil Bolter...you…” It suddenly occurred to Roman that he knew nothing about Virgil. Absolutely nothing.

Roman couldn’t do the cliche where a character has amnesia and another character spurts off these hidden facts about the amnesia character, making the amnesia character trust the other one.

Roman hit a blank.

“I won’t tell Mr. Edra you’ve been here,” Virgil then said, filling the silence. “Just go on. You need to get to class anyway.”

Virgil put a hand on Roman’s shoulder as he led Roman out the door.

Roman glanced down at the clipboard in Virgil’s hand and saw a list. A long list with boxes in front of them. There were a few checkmarks in the boxes.

Roman’s eyes trailed down the list. Water Manipulation. Fire Manipulation. Invisibility. Flight. Mind-Reading. Teleportation. Astral Projection.

And then, in all caps, on the bottom of the list was WEATHER MANIPULATION.

Virgil, for a second time that day, pushed Roman out the door, shut it, and locked it with a click.

***

Patton liked Sirena. She may be cranky and old-fashioned but that was what made Patton like her so much.

He was almost as bad with working with technology than Sirena. She had said the reason why she had so much tech stuff was because her son insisted.

“My son is coming over tonight,” Sirena said mindlessly, pushing more leftover food she had cooked yesterday towards Patton.

“Um, no thanks.” Patton shook his head. His stomach lurched at the sight of the noodles with crumbled Cheppers on top. “I’m full.”

“No, go ahead. I have plenty more food.” Sirena said. “You should stay over to meet him. I’m sure he’ll like you. Today’s a busy day,” she added in, changing the topic. “Saturday’s are when Glen and his ugly wife come over for supper and Mr. Goda comes over for lunch. We go through my old picture books.”

“Photo books?” Patton repeated curiously. “What are they?”

Sirean frowned. “Young people these days…” she trailed off before answering Patton’s question. “Photo books are books where you put pictures you took with a digital camera for safe keeping.”

Patton fumbled in bag and held up the camera his parents had given him. “Like this one?” He asked.

Sirena looked at the camera, leaning in. “Now, where did you get that?” She breathed, reaching a hand out to touch it. “It works?” She asked.

Patton nodded. “Yeah. My parents got it for me at a second hand store.”

“Mr. Goda will be impressed. I haven’t seen a camera like these in ages.” Sirena said.

“When’s Mr. Goda supposed to be here?” Patton asked curiously. The man, whoever he was, sounded into old things.

“Soon, soon. I’m sure he’ll like you too.” Sirena said. “You must stay for the rest of the day. Meet Mr. Goda and my Glen.”

Patton shrugged and smiled. “Of course”. He had no lead on Logan and a day couldn’t hurt. Anyway, he didn’t want to disappoint Sirean after being so kind to him. “Can I see your photo books too?”

Sirena grinned and stood up, going into the living room. Patton followed, leaving the food on the table.

Sirena pulled out about a dozen multicoloured books with thick bindings from a chest in the center of the room. She sat down on a sofa.

“Here they are.” Sirena said, taking the top one, patting the spot next to her, and opening it up.

Patton sat down next to Sirena and looked at the first rectangle. On each page of the book were two pictures that were rectangular. They were all black or brown with some white.

“How come they’re black and white?” Patton asked curiously, reaching out a hand curiously to touch the photo only to feel plastic.

“My grandparents didn’t have colour cameras. You could only take pictures and videos with black and white.” Sirena explained.

“How did you know what colour things were?” Patton asked, inspecting the first photo which had a group of people sat on a step outside. Only one little girl with short curly hair was looking at the camera.

“You either had to remember or guess.” Sirena shrugged. “That’s one of my ancestors,” she explained, pointing to the girl looking at the camera.

They went through the entire first book and Patton soaked it all in. It was interesting to see these old pictures and hear the stories that went along with them.

The second book had coloured photos. So did the third and the rest of them.

“I had an old fashioned camera like yours right up until Glen graduated high school. Then it disappeared one day and I never could find it again.” Sirena explained, opening up the last photo book.

The first photo was one of a teenage boy with sharp features and a shocking head of raven black hair. It was curly and seemed to have a mind of its own. His eyes were a deep emerald green and his face was pale; making him look almost sickly.

The photo was only of his shoulders and up, the background a light blue. He was looking straight at the camera.

He was handsome, there was no doubt about that, but in the way a dead tree was. Or a cemetary. Both were eerily beautiful.

“My handsome Glen.” Sirena smiled, her pointer finger tracing his face. “He was a catch, wasn’t he? A real ladies man.” She paused. “Such a shame she married that horrid woman.”

There was a kind of familiarity about Glen but Patton shrugged it off. Maybe Glen was some famous actor or something. Obviously he wasn’t that famous if Patton couldn’t place him.

“That’s me, Glen, and my husband, Aemon, bless his soul, he’s gone to Heaven now.” Sirena said, pointing to another photo.

The photo looked to be a picnic in the Greens. The green grass and green trees. And the green shrubs. It looked even more beautiful than how Patton remembered it when he went with his family when he was five.

The blanket was red and white checkered and a wicker basket sat between the three figures.

Glen looked the same as he had in his school photo. He was wearing a black shirt with a denim jacket on with some dark jeans. Patton felt sweaty just looking at him in his dark clothes on what looked like a warm summer's day.

The younger version of Sirena looked so different yet the same. She had Glen’s shock of dark hair and pale face but her eyes were a golden brown. She was petite and had an arm around Glen lovingly.

Glen had Aemon’s muscular form and dark green eyes. However, his skin was a tan and he looked tall. He was sat on the opposite side of the wicker basket and Glen and Sirena. He was leaned back against his forearms and he had a cocky kind of smile on his face.

“That’s a really nice photo,” Patton complimented. “Who’s taking the photo?” He asked. He was sure back then they didn’t have the floating cameras they had today that stayed still and snapped the photo when someone yelled “cheese!”

Sirena’s face hardened and she rolled her eyes. “Winslow. Or Winnie as everyone called her. Glen’s ‘perfect’ bride. They were dating there. They started dating in tenth grade and got married as soon as they were of age.”

“Do you...have a photo of her?” Patton asked curiously, treading slowly as he knew Winslow was a touchy subject.

“One.” Sirena snapped. “Graduation. Took it outside of our house by the big old oak tree. Glen was all prettied up and I do have to admit Winnie looked good too.” She managed to spit out.

Sirena flipped to the last page in the photo book.

The day looked slightly cloudy and Glen and Winnie were the focus of the photo, both smiling joyously at the camera.

Winnie had long honey blonde hair that was curled and pulled up out of her face, a few tendrils framing her face. Her eyes were a baby blue and she looked so happy. She was tall and willowy, just a couple centimetres shorter than Glen.

Her dress was a plum purple, like Sirena’s car, and it hugged her body and flared out on the bottom. It was covered in tiny sequins. She had on a white lily corsage around her wrist.

Glen’s hair was in a different haircut and it was tamed with just the little bit of gel. He had on a black suit and a tie the same purple as Winnie’s dress. He had on a lily boutonniere pinned to his jacket.

The doorbell rang.

Sirena closed the photo book and glanced at her watch around her wrist. “Ah, that must be Mr. Goda. Always punctual.” She muttered, going to the front door.

Patton followed like a lost puppy, excited to see Mr. Goda.

He stood in the kitchen doorway, the perfect place. He’d be able to see everything that happened—except for Mr. Goda himself—until Sirena actually let him in.

Sirena opened the door. “Great to see you again, Mr. Goda.”

Sirena turned to look at Patton. She opened the door wider to reveal Mr. Goda.

“This is James Norice, Mr. Norice, this is Mr. Logan Goda.” Sirena introduced.

***

When Sirena introduced James to him Logan immediately knew that he was a natural-born baby.

He knew the signs. The signs weren’t something that could be explained with words. It was...sort of just a feeling along with little things.

Like James’ figure was of a natural-born baby. Logan didn’t know what the difference was but there was one.

And the glasses. They were a dead giveaway.

Whereas Logan wore glasses with no prescription just because Patton’s were.

The question that Logan has in his mind as he stared at James and James stared at him was: what was he doing with Sirena?

Logan hoped and prayed Sirena didn’t see the signs of James and also hoped that Sirena’s son and wife didn’t come earlier than normal.

“It’s good to meet you.” Logan nodded politely, trying to squash down his cacophonous thoughts.

“You too,” James smiled brightly. “Sirena’s told me a lot of stuff about you. All good things, obviously,” he babbled.

“You too can get settled,” Sirena said, patting Logan on the shoulder. “I’ll get some food for lunch.”

“Uh, no thanks,” James called out as Sirena began to walk to the kitchen. “I’m stuffed.”

“Did she give you food and kept it coming like a machine, expecting you to eat it?” Logan couldn’t help but say, letting a small smile on his lips.

This James seemed nice and he definitely had a familiar aura around him.

But Logan wanted to tread carefully. Who knew where this man came from? He must have been a good hider or else he’d have already been killed like the rest of the illegal babies, children, and adults.

As soon as Sirena was out of sighed James had a serious expression on his face. “Virgil has something for you!” He blurted out.

“Excuse me?” Logan asked, his eyes widening.

James’ right hand went over his mouth. “Please don’t tell me you aren’t Logan Markku.”

“Excuse me?” Logan repeated, not processing this. He needed another coffee.

“I’m Patton Fitzroy! Remember? We used to live in the same street and play together!” Patton exclaimed.

Logan frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “Patton? The one who moved away without saying anything?”

Patton looked suddenly ashamed. “Yeah, sorry about that. Family stuff. We had to leave quickly.”

Logan was pretty sure family issues was the broad term for it. It was probably because of his natural-borness.

Logan’s mind immediately went back to Patton’s first shocking comment. “What do you know about Virgil Bolter?”

“He broke into my house.” Patton said bluntly. “He’s looking for you. I don’t know where he is now but he gave me a letter to me to give to you if I ever found you.”

Logan decided to not tell Patton yet where Virgil was. “Where’s the letter?” He asked, trying to mask the demanding tone.

Patton skittered off into the kitchen and came back with an old bag.

He pulled out a folded up sheet that looked like instructions to bake a cake. Logan frowned. “This better not be a joke.”

Patton shook his head. “No. That’s the only paper he found when he was hiding in my kitchen cupboard. I didn’t read it by the way.” He added in.

Logan wanted to know every detail of when Virgil broke into Patton’s house but now was not the time.

He unfolded the torn out recipe page and began to scan the paper.

The writing was tiny and scrawled darkly over the printing to make a chocolate cake. The writing was slanted and Logan had to squint in order to read it.

It took up all the page and Virgil had signed it on the bottom.

Logan read the letter quickly. When he finished it he felt light headed.

The Markku group wanted dirt on the government. Well, now they did.

He didn’t know how bad everything was.

Connie had said they had plenty of time to break the 12 children and Virgil out but he wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

“Well…?” Patton asked, breaking Logan out of his spinning thoughts.

Logan blinked, the lights on the ceiling now seemingly blindingly bright. He had forgotten that Patton was there.

“Thank you for,” Logan coughed. “Giving this to me.”

A loud ringing of the house phone reverberated throughout the building.

“I’ve got it!” Sirena muttered from the kitchen. “Ought to turn that thing down. Gonna give me a heart attack one day.”

The ringing stopped. Logan’s ears still rang. He had always hated the phone-house hookup.

“No problem.” Patton smiled.

Logan could sense that Patton wanted to know what was written down but Logan wasn’t sure he wanted to tell him just yet.

“Was there anything else Virgil left me?” Logan asked, hoping there was more but preparing himself for nothing.

Patton shook his head. “Sorry, no.” Logan’s heart fell. “But, I found his old shelter and brought his diary and everlasting pencil along with me. Some pills were there too so I brought them along.”

“Can I see? Did you read his journal?” Logan asked.

Patton shook his head once again. “No. I didn’t want to invade his privacy.” He bent down to take the journal, pencil, and bottle of pills out of the bag.

The journal and pills were interesting, he recognized the pills as sleeping pills, caffeine pills, and anti-anxiety pills, but the pencil was what really got his attention.

The sharp engravings in the pencil was odd. The rectangles and squares as the thin line went from one side of the pencil to another. Multiple ends of the line with seemingly only one way to get through the entire pencil. It was like a maze from one end of the pencil to the other.

Logan inspected it until he heard Sirena’s footsteps come this way and him and Patton shoved everything back inside his bag.

Sirena was beaming. “Great news!” She frowned suddenly. “Why are you still out standing here in the porch? It’s freezing out here!”

Logan didn’t bother to tell her that porches were no longer drafty in this modern age.

“What’s the good news?” Patton asked, picking up his bag and beginning to walk in the direction of the living room.

“Glen is coming for lunch and for supper in a couple of minutes! He’s on his way. He’s not bringing Winnie either, thank goodness.” Sirena smiled, a spring in her step.

Patton beamed as well. “Oh yay! That sounds fun! I can’t wait to meet your son!”

Logan stopped dead in his tracks. Of course this day. Of all days, this day.

“That sounds wonderful,” Logan said through gritted teeth. “Sirena, why don’t you get back to preparing for Glen to come home. Patton and I were having such a pleasant conversation.”

Sirena smiled. “Good idea! I better cook up some more food for Glen!” She left the living room.

As soon as Sirena left Logan turned to Patton, every muscle in his body tensed up. “We have to leave. Now.” He said urgently.

Patton cocked his head to the side. “How come?”

“Because you can’t be here when Glen is.”

“Why?” Patton asked.

Logan wanted to smack Patton across the head. “Sirena must not have told you about ‘angel boy’ Glen.”

“What about Glen?” Patton asked curiously.

“Because Glen is Mr. Edra, the most powerful government official, and he will murder you if he sees you!” Logan snapped, trying to keep his voice low so Sirena wouldn’t hear him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders

4 notes · View notes

holllandtrash · 7 years ago

Text

Coming Home Drunk; Tom Holland

pairing: reader x tom holland

warnings: nah

words: 1900+

summary: tom knows exactly what to do when you come home intoxicated after a night out, but he doesn’t really understand anything that comes out of your mouth (still adores you though)

a/n : i actually had a lot of fun writing this sudsdfhifjoi

request something or ask to be on the taglist here

- to those on the taglist, i weren’t sure if you wanted to be on all of my fic’s tag list or just Rich Love’s so i added everyone to be safe. if you only want to be on the one for Rich Love then please shoot me an ask saying that, so I won’t include you on any more one shots/fics! thank you, i love you all -

Your arm was lazily slung around your best friends’ shoulder, her choice not yours. You watched the ground in front of you, counting the number steps you took. You managed to reach 23, or maybe 24, before your friend suddenly stopped, causing you to stumble backwards. Her hand on your waist was the only thing that kept you from falling to the ground.

You think she knocked on the door, but you really weren’t listening. You were still staring at the floor. You were easily distracted by the wooden paneled floor that seemed to be moving, not spinning, but moving.

The door opened, revealing a very tired and confused Tom. He rubbed his eyes but when he saw you and your friend his facial features changed from what-is-going-on to oh-boy. Tom held his arms outstretched towards you and you happily fell into them, throwing your own arms around his neck.

“I’ll pray for you,” you heard your friend say and Tom said something else before shutting the door, but again, you weren’t really listening. You had more important things on your mind. Like how warm your boyfriend was and how cold your toes felt against the floor and why were your bare feet against the floor where were your shoes?

Where were your shoes?

“Okay, come on.” Tom slid his arms underneath you and lifted you up. One hand on your back while the other supported your legs. You leaned your head against his chest and smiled, thankful that your boyfriend was so strong. He was Spider-man, he had to be strong. It was a job requirement.

“Spider-man.” you muttered, because you knew how much he loved his role in the Marvel movies. One time you accidentally called him Peter and he still hasn’t let you hear the end of it, “Friendly, neighbor Spider-man. If Peter Parker was my neighbor I’d leave him for you in a heartbeat.”

“You’d what?” Tom chuckled as he made his way down the corridor. All of the lights in the house were off except for the one in bathroom and you wondered how he could see. If this was your place, you’d be bumping into every corner. Only because you’d spent so much of your time at Tom’s now, your place became foreign. You only ever went home to pack new clothes into your bag or shower with your products instead of being forced to use his.

You really had to buy yourself some conditioner for when you used his shower.

“I’d leave you for him.” you corrected your previous sentence, laughing while doing so, “I-…I’d leave you for Peter Parker.”

“Peter Parker is 15, love. You’re 20. That’s illegal,” he spoke, playing along like you weren’t talking about a fictional character. Tom kicked open his bedroom door with his foot and placed you down in the center of the bed. You loved his bed. It was king-sized so you could sprawl your entire body out under the sheets and Tom wouldn’t be phased. He used to try pulling you close to him at night, but you just got so hot and you moved around a lot so he stopped trying to cuddle with you after you kicked him for the fifth time in one night.

You laid on top of the white duvet, tossing and turning in an attempt to get comfy while Tom knelt down beside you, putting all of his weight into the balls of his feet. He reached for your hand and when you felt his fingers grasp on to yours, you turned your head to look at him. Or at least you tried. The room was quite dark. You could make out his face but none of his features were defined.

“Peter Parker is nicer than you.” you said quietly, looking up at your boyfriend through your eyelashes. He laughed and shook his head, giving your hand a tight squeeze, “I would know. I seen homecoming…eight times.”

“Darling, I’m Peter Parker,” his voice was quiet but you weren’t sure why. It’s not like there was anyone else in the room, or even in the house. And he only ever whispered in the morning if he was in the bedroom while you were still asleep, so he wouldn’t wake you up with the sound of his voice. He’d always wake you though, but you never told him that.

“No,” you said, your eyes growing accustomed to the lack of lighting. You could see the smile he was trying so hard to hide, and his hair was all over the place. Part of you wanted to style it back so you wouldn’t have to look at his god-awful bedhead but the other part of you wanted to run your hands through it. You liked doing that and he absolutely loved it. Your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, lightly tugging on the ends. He loved it.

“No?” he asked and you had to rack your brain to remember why you said no in the first place.

“You are not Peter Parker.” You paused, needing to remember where you were going with this statement, “You are Tom Holland. You are the 21-year-old British dude who-”

“Who?” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to finish.

But you definitely forgot where you were going with that statement. “You’re not Peter Parker.”

“Alright,” he sighed while standing up, dropping your hand in the process. He started to make his way out of the room, but since he didn’t tell you where he was going you panicked. Was he leaving you? Was he tired of you coming home completely shit-faced every time you had a girl’s night out? Was he offended that you told him he wasn’t Peter Parker?

“Wait!” you called after him, “Where are you going?”

“To get you some water,” he yelled back, his voice trailed down the hall and you exhaled a breath of relief. He was just being a good boyfriend, that’s all. No need to worry.

He was only gone for a few seconds and when he returned he flicked on the hallway light switch so you were no longer surrounded by completely darkness. You could actually see him now. He handed you the water and you downed half off it, spilling a lot on yourself in the process. Water never tasted as good when you were intoxicated but you drank it because deep down you knew it was the right thing to do.

And because Tom would have made you drink it anyway.

You placed the half-finished glass on the coffee table and Tom was quick to push it towards the center of the flat surface instead of dangerously close to the edge where you left it. He almost spilled the rest of it as you grabbed his hand, tugging him towards the bed, “Lay with me,” you pleaded.

He didn’t hesitate before climbing onto the mattress beside you. For once, you let him wrap his arm around you because it allowed you to focus on him instead of how the room was moving. Not spinning, moving. You couldn’t describe the current motion of the walls, but it wasn’t spinning. If it was, you’d be sick.

You closed your eyes and adjusted yourself so your head now rested on his chest. You curled up against his side, draping one of your legs over him. You weren’t the type of person who enjoyed cuddling, but Tom was so he was silently taking in every second of this and loving it. You listened to his heartbeat and felt his chest rise and fall with every breath he took. It was relaxing.

Why did you hate cuddling?

Since your eyes were closed you didn’t notice the way Tom was staring at you with complete adoration. Even drunk out of your mind, you were the light of his life. He liked the fact that your friend brought you to his place instead of taking you back to yours because that must have meant you found more of a home with him than you ever did with that studio apartment.

He’d rather you wake him up in the middle of the night like this anyway, than have you go home and pass out on your bathroom floor. At least he could take care of you if need be, which he really didn’t mind. Drunk you was entertaining too. He wasn’t sure what you meant about that whole ‘choosing Peter Parker’ thing – because he essentially was Peter Parker – but he’d ask about it in the morning.

“…gotta condo in Manhattan,” you mumbled under your breath, “Baby girl ‘was happenin’” The popular Bruno Mars song had been stuck in your head since you left the club. You couldn’t even remember if it actually played, but the lyrics were all you could think of at the moment. Tom laughed, covering his mouth with a fist to muffle the sound because not only did you not cuddle, you didn’t sing either.

But here you were, clenching onto Tom like your life depended on it, singing along to the make-believe concert going on in your head while bobbing your head back and forth too, “Silk sheets and diamonds, all white. Lucky for you…”

You stopped when you felt Tom’s chest vibrate underneath your cheek due to his soft chuckling.

“No, keep going,” he requested, hugging you tight against him, rubbing his hand over your arm. To him, you felt cold but you were actually working up a sweat just lying there.

That’s why you hated cuddling. You were dying of heat. Your feet were slightly cold, but that was only because you didn’t have socks on, or shoes. But again, where were your shoes?

“No.” you pouted, tilting your head up to look at him. Your eyes were only open for a few seconds before they fluttered closed again. You had been up for almost twenty-four hours so it wasn’t a shock to him that you were about to pass out.

“Did you want to change out of that dress?” he asked.

“No,” you repeated, quieter than the first time. Because changing out of the dress mean standing up and standing up meant putting effort into something and all you wanted to do was stay in bed and hug Tom, even if you were uncomfortably hot.

Tom, on the other hand, was quite cold. Since you had decided to lay on top of the covers when he put you to bed, you didn’t give him much of a choice when he joined you. His one arm was warm because you were laying on top of it, but that was all. He dealt with it though, not wanting to disturb you in your current state of mind. If he had to sleep above the blanket for the rest of the night, he would. He’d complain about it in the morning, but he’d do it for you.

Your breaths became more spaced out and your muscles twitched every few seconds, signalling that you had either fallen asleep or you were just about to. He pushed back a few loose strands of hair that had stuck to your forehead and kissed the top of your head, letting his lips linger there longer than usual.

“I love you,” he whispered, but you definitely didn’t hear it. You were too far gone and he knew that, but he said it anyway.

He always did.

masterlist here

775 notes · View notes

tristinai · 7 years ago

Text

Cullrian Seasonal drabble

The tag needs some love so here’s a self-prompted seasonal drabble, inspired by this list.

10: I forgot to buy a Christmas tree and I tried to cut one in your garden, you caught me, please, don’t call the police, I can explain. (Cullrian, modern Thedas AU, rating T)

Just to note, many liberties were taken with this prompt, the largest being the assumption that Satinalia traditions share similarities with Christmas. Any and all mistakes are my own since this drabble has not been beta-read. Happy Holidays!

Dorian didn't know what he had been thinking when he agreed to be responsible for procuring a Satinalia tree for their weekend outing in Dragon's Peak. It had seemed like a good idea at the time: Ellana was scrambling to make last minute arrangements to secure the family cottage from her (evidently, rather large) extended family just before Satinalia and Dorian had been more than happy to relieve her of some of the planning. Sera and Bull had been left in charge of alcohol (a decision that had Dorian raise his eyebrows because if the two had it their way, everyone would be left drinking cheap whiskey and that Maker-awful spirits qunari favored) while Varric and Garrett in charge of the baking. In hindsight, it was all a disaster in the making, made worse by the final push for holiday shopping that saw Dorian working overtime these last few weeks, all while struggling to find time to prepare for his dissertation. Before he knew it, it was already Friday evening and he had to make the drive up to cottage country, hours later from when he had told his friends he would arrive.

Bloody ridiculous, thinking I had the luxury of going out to buy a blasted tree, he thought, moodily, grunting as he impaled the ax into the tree's base.

That he even had found the tool in his trunk was a miracle that he supposed he'd have Bull to thank for later, who frequently borrowed Dorian's car. It was only slightly worrying that the qunari had done anything recently involving an ax.

Snow flicked off the evergreen branches in an annoying, powdery spray that threatened to muss Dorian's carefully oiled coif and put him in an even fouler mood. Cutting down a tree – incredibly illegal, he had no doubt – had been his last option. Never mind that he was an international student on a Ferelden study visa and could see more than his study rights revoked if he was caught. He was far enough up the road from the nearest farm that he doubted anyone would discover him and the need to not disappoint his best friends outweighed being a model resident in that moment.

He cursed beneath his breath as snow splattered onto his face, pausing to swipe a gloved hand over his eyes. Great. Now his face was wet, he was freezing his arse off because Ferelden winters bloody-well sucked, and he was barely even halfway into chopping down this tree.

“You'll never get it down. Not with that sloppy form. And if you keep swinging like that, you'll throw out your back.”

Dorian nearly choked on his next curse, ax fumbling in his unsteady grip. He hadn't expected anyone to find him this far into the woods and certainly not to sass him upon seeing him committing a crime against the environment. His immediate reaction was a vicious retort to match his bitter mood but panic prevented him from running his mouth before he found himself in even hotter water.

Turning to face the man who had interrupted him, the Tevinter tried not to let his surprise show at seeing a handsome blond standing not yards from where he was chopping, an unleashed mabari at the man's side. The beast had its head tilted, sniffing the air as if to discern whether it liked this trespasser, while Dorian's brain was trying to come up with anything to say other than the word FUCK, which was running on a loop in his head.

“...this isn't what it looks like,” he said, realizing how stupid it sounded once it was said.

“Really?” the Fereldan questioned, a hint of disapproval beginning to creep into his feigned tone of bemusement. “Because if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trespassing on private land and attempting to chop down one of my sister's trees.”

Okay. So maybe it was what it looked like.

Fasta vass. He had been caught with literally ax in hand, hacking away at a tree.

“Perhaps we can come to some agreement that doesn't involve inconveniencing either of us further,” Dorian tried, using that same, smooth tone he had to employ often to defuse the ire of disgruntled customers. “I apologize, take my leave, and we forget this rather embarrassing situation. Poor judgment on my part.”

“Or, I have you fined for illegally attempting to fell a tree,” the man answered, arms folded over his chest, grim lips beginning to curl in a scowl.

“There's no need to get the authorities involved,” Dorian replied, quickly. He didn't even want to think of what could happen to his student visa if he was entangled in a violation of the law. “I'm sure we can find other means to settle this. I'm more than willing to compensate you, Mr...?”

“Detective Cullen Rutherford.”

…FUCK.

It would be just his luck that he ends this shitty week being caught by a police officer in his first flirtation with crime.

How was he going to get out of this without making things worse?

"Detective Rutherford? How wonderfully Fereldan-sounding. Do appease my curiosity and tell me you have an equally endearing middle name, like Nathaniel or Bryce. Detective Cullen Nathaniel Rutherford. It rolls off the tongue quite nicely."

If the detective was annoyed before, he was absolutely baffled by now, staring incredulously at the would-be tree feller. The gray mabari barked at the sound of its master's name while the officer began to flush.

"What are you--t-that's not my--"

"No need to correct my assumption. You can tell me over a cup of coffee. How does next Thursday sound?"

The poor blond looked even more bewildered at the turn of conversation. It took him a few seconds to process the silky, flirtatious tone Dorian was using. And when he figured it out, his face went a deeper shade of red.

"A-are you attempting to bribe an officer of the law with coffee to avoid being charged for a misdemeanor?"

"Bribe?" the Tevinter laughed, his voice taking on a coy lilt. "Is it so hard to believe that I find you far too handsome to pass up this opportunity, even if we must deal with such frivolities as charging me for attempting to cut down a tree?"

"M-Maker's breath!" Cullen mumbled, dropping his red face into his gloved hands. “Th-there's no need to—you really shouldn't—”

And much to the detective's dismay, his loyal companion bounded through the snow towards Dorian, wagging its stubby tail, to which the Tevinter rewarded the dog with a generous pat on the head and some very appreciated ear scratching.

“Man's best friend indeed,” the detective muttered, feeling more than a little betrayed by his pet.

“I must commend you on your excellent choice in four-legged companions, Detective Handsome.”

“Rutherford!” Cullen quickly corrected, looking for all the world like he was about to die of embarrassment.

“A big, fierce beast like this? And you know what they say about a man with a big dog. He's also got a big—!”

“By Andraste, if I drop the charges, will you stop?!”

Dorian smirked triumphantly. “I was going to say, 'big heart'.”

"Look...it's Satinalia. The weather's not the best and it's hard to see anything clearly this time of night. Let's say a would-be violator of Ferelden's rather important,” Cullen emphasized, with a slight glare, “environmental protection laws managed to get away before any real damage could be done and we forget this whole incident.”

“...that sounds reasonable.”

“And for the love of the Maker, please stop attempting to flirt your way out of trouble. It's not a habit you should be employing every time you anger an officer.”

“But it worked, didn't it?”

The Tevinter's answer was a groan but he swore the Fereldan was hiding a smile behind his gloved hand.

“Alright. No more flirting with officers so gorgeous, they're making me rethink my lifelong hatred of plaid,” Dorian said, winking salaciously at the detective. “From now on, I'll curry favor with officers of the law by bewitching their beloved pets.”

“Something tells me Brixon and I will need to have a long chat about accepting scratches from 'perps',” Cullen said, giving a mock glare to his dog.

"Brixon? What a lovely name for a big, scary mabari," Dorian said, smiling down and scratching the mabari's ear once more.

The dog whined, giving what seemed to be a disapproving look at his master, which only made the detective chuckle.

"Don't be like that. I know you're as good as any one of the men and women who serve on the Denerim police force."

Dorian's head perked up at that. "You're from Denerim as well?"

"Transferred from Honnleath only a few months ago," the Fereldan answered. "You've come quite a ways out of the city to find a tree."

The Tevinter had the humility to look somewhat embarrassed at the observation. "I'm spending the weekend at my friend's cottage and, of course, the one thing I was tasked with, I failed to do until the last minute."

The blond fell quiet for a moment, deep in thought. "If it's a tree you need, I may be able to help you out.”

-*-*-*-

"I can't thank you enough for this," Dorian said, as Cullen helped him secure the tree on the roof of his car.

Checking the ropes one final time, Cullen gave the Tevinter a small smirk. "I'd much rather give you one of my sister's left over trees than have you commit another crime."

"Attempted-crime," Dorian corrected, to which the Fereldan simply chuckled.

As luck would have it, Cullen's sister Mia was the owner of the tree farm he had been attempting to steal a tree from. She had been more than happy to treat Dorian to cocoa as Cullen fabricated a story about finding Dorian at the side of the road and helping him to jump start his car. And when Dorian had added that he had been on his way to find a tree farm that would hopefully still be selling trees at this time of night, Mia had generously offered one on the house.

"It's the least I can do after the night you've been having.”

And if that didn't inspire guilt that had Dorian pulling out his wallet, he wasn't sure what else would. But after much insisting, most of it by Cullen, the Tevinter accepted the gift.

"You really didn't have to do this for me," he added once more, standing a bit sheepishly by the door to his car.

The detective smiled rather shyly and as his cheeks grew pinker, Dorian couldn't help but think, for not the first time that evening, how adorable the (“still quite tragically single,” Mia had declared overly loud over warm beverages, earning her a mortified look from her younger sibling) man was. “When you attempted to flirt your way out of a fine, I knew you had to be in some financial trouble. Times are tough. Plus, it's Satinalia. I hope you and your friends put that tree to good use.”

The Tevinter grinned widely. “You have my word, detective. Thanks again for the tree. Please tell your sister I wish both of you a happy Satinalia.”

As he unlocked his car, he paused, glancing sideways, with a smug smirk on his face. “And just so you know, I would have flirted with you even if you hadn't caught me in the middle of destroying the local environment.”

This time, Cullen's blush reached the tips of his ears, which peeked out above the thick, plaid scarf he wore around his neck.

“About next Thursday...”

Dorian, with one leg already in the vehicle, stopped. “Hmm?”

“I-I'm free. If you still want to know my middle name,” the detective said, ducking his face bashfully.

Dorian's stomach did a flip.

“I-it doesn't have to be a date,” Cullen added quickly, still not quite able to meet the Tevinter's eyes. “I-I don't have many friends in Denerim and—well, it would be nice to—and coffee. Coffee would be great.”

“So, in exchange for coffee, you'd tell me your middle name?” Dorian teased. “Then I, in good conscious, must inform you that Mia divulged that information in private while you were feeding Brixon, Detective Cullen Stanton Rutherford.”

But the Fereldan took the teasing another way, an apologetic look on his face. “Ah, I-I suppose that means you're busy and—”

“And free after 4. If that works for you.”

Dorian had thrown out a random day when he had initially made his suggestion. Luckily, he had nothing planned after his shift.

When the detective looked back up, his honey-colored eyes widened in shock. “Y-yes t-that's great. I—would you like to exchange numbers?”

In his nervousness, Cullen fumbled with his phone and nearly dropped it onto the road. Dorian did his best to hold back a chuckle but seeing the embarrassed smile on the detective's face made the Tevinter's own lips curl in a grin, a flutter in his chest. Once numbers were exchanged and they had added each other to Let’s Chat, a popular Thedosian app, they said their goodbyes and Dorian started his car.

Before pulling off onto the road, he rolled down his window and called out, “Oh, and just so you know, Cullen, Thursday is very much a date!”

The poor man nearly slipped into the snowbank but that didn't stop him grinning from ear to ear as he waved Dorian off.

Perhaps this week wasn't so terrible after all.

#cullrian #cullen x dorian #seasonal fluff #my writing #dragon age

17 notes · View notes