#but the bathroom stall would be ok as long as i had a clock in there (otherwise time blindness would make me crazy)

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Coworker (Part6)

Tw: a little sickness, Cyprus patting you on the butt non consensually super short chapter, tw afab reader

like idk guys its so hard for me to brainrot for Cyprus i don't like him and i rarely get asks that would leave long analyses and theories for Yves, so he's not a fun guy to work with

but anyways here u go a more softer side (i guess)

masterlists, part 1, part 7

He grinned. "I knew you'd come around."

Cyprus straightened his posture. He kept your ID away and left the scene.

The day went by smoothly after that.

__

Two minutes before lunch, you made a beeline to the toilets. You locked yourself in a stall and planned to stay there until that dreadful hour is up. Cyprus obviously can't enter the women's restroom, he would risk his job.

Actually, you hope he did. HR has grounds to fire him, or at least reprimand that man.

Half an hour in, you received a text from Cyprus.

"Wtf is taking you so long"

"you ok?"

You replied, deciding to use a fake stomachache as an excuse.

You thought he gave up and left you alone for now. You nervously kept glancing at the clock in your phone, it ticks by slowly as you worry about what he would do.

As you breathe slowly and jump every time someone opens the door to use the bathroom, you fidgeted with the hem of your blouse nervously. Time ticks by and before you know it, lunch is over for you.

You let out a sigh of relief. Finally, one hour without that fucking creep. You exit your bathroom stall, wash your hands, dry them, and get out of the toilet.

You only had one foot out of the women's restroom before that deep vibrating voice of his reached your ears and made you jolt.

"You okay, babygirl?"

You whisked your head to the side to see him leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed and a look of genuine concern on his handsome face.

You stammered, yes. You would like to get back to work now.

He didn't stop you from scurrying away to your seat. Not like he could do anything now, his lunch is over too. So he has to get back to work or he faces the risk of getting called to HR.

You immersed yourself in work, tapping away and tuning out all surrounding noises. To you, minutes or hours felt the same. You don't know how long you've been working since you got out of the restroom, but you're sure it's been a while. The gears in your head are churning non-stop to try and figure out a plan to get away from Cyprus. Or get him fired so you can work in peace.

"Princess."

You craned your neck up only to be kissed on the forehead. Cyprus set something down on your desk. You turned your focus to the object he placed in front of you.

"For your stomach." It's a steaming hot cup of green tea. He must have prepared it earlier in the kitchen. You picked it up and muttered a thanks to him.

"I don't think you ate anything today. Here." He opened a packet of bland crackers, which you recognized was from the vending machine. Cyprus placed it near you.

You said you appreciate it, but he needs to get back to work before Jane yells at him. He scoffed at the mention of her name.

"She can't do crap to us. If she's giving you a hard time, tell me." He ruffled your hair as he walked back to his cubicle.

__

You're now genuinely feeling sick in the stomach as Cyprus carries your suitcase for you to his car. Your coworkers said bye to the two of you as they got into their respective vehicles too, but you knew behind those friendly grins was the intent to gossip.

You went to the passenger's side, not realizing that Cyprus was noticing how you were looking a little green in the face.

You buckled your belt up and so did he after shutting the door and igniting the engine.

You flinched when he brought a hand to your face, but he did or said nothing except to touch your cheek with the back of his palm. It then slid down to your neck, and back up to your forehead. You were too tired and frazzled to ask him what he was doing. All you did was to stay still.

He let out a sigh before retracting his digits and placing them firmly on the steering wheel.

Cyprus drove in silence, periodically looking at the rearview and side mirror to check the position of his car relative to the road. You're surprised that he wasn't in a chatty mood today, not interested in teasing you or extracting new information about yourself. He seemed grumpy, but you don't know why, was it because you didn't join him for lunch earlier?

You decided to seal your lips in the end though, savoring this rare instance of silence, and decided to scroll through your phone instead, feeding your brain with social media junk food until it's too sick to take anymore.

Cyprus would spare some quick glances at you periodically, there was a disapproving look on his face when he realized that you have no interest in looking out of the window at all. Just on your phone screen.

He actually... pities you. He thinks you're trapped, you've been in this routine for so long because you were spineless enough to let Jane work you to the bones. The only thing that's remotely fun for you to do, that's within your time and financial budget is to surf the net. Now, you have Cyprus to keep your boss in check, you have him to pay for your exciting adventures together, and to manage your time for you, yet you're still falling into the same rut.

It takes time, as habits are hard to break. Especially bad ones such as your obsessive scrolling and his smoking. It's fine, he is willing to work with you. Cyprus thinks overcoming obstacles like these will strengthen the bond between you and him as a romantic couple.

"We're here." You were snapped out of your trance by his voice. Cyprus killed the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. You did so too and left the car, but this doesn't seem like his house. No, not at all, he brought you to a block with various businesses still operating past office hours.

You asked where he had brought you to. Cyprus ignored you and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you with him into a shop. The smell of antiseptic stung your nose upon entry and the blindingly bright lights gave away that he brought you to a clinic.

You told him that you're fine. But that made him hush you before talking to the receptionist on your behalf.

Once he's done registering for you, he turns around to look at you.

"Sit, we're gonna need to wait for a while." He leads you to the waiting chairs by the small of your back.

You said that you were fine, it was just a small stomach ache. He rolled his eyes at you and grunted, he crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair. Cyprus loosened his necktie earlier and unbuttoned the collars, giving everyone a glimpse of his sculpted chest.

Seeing that nothing was getting to him, you pulled out your phone. You failed to notice how he side-eyed you for doing so.

"What do you want for dinner, princess?" He asked, frowning when you're still glued to your phone.

You said anything is fine. Which slightly infuriated him.

You exclaimed an expression of surprise when he snatched it away from your hands. He dangled the device next to his face as he adjusted his glasses.

"Christ, I really need to tape this to my head for you to look at me." He narrowed his eyes at you.

You asked if you could have it back. But all he did was switch it off and shove it into his pocket.

"You're addicted to this crap." He spoke, in a condescending tone and a face that suggests that you did something to offend him.

You said that you can say the same for him and smoking. But you're not controlling him or trying to get him to stop smoking his life away.

"Maybe you should. Because, Hell, I'm not letting you scroll your life away." A teasing smirk reached his face.

You demanded his packet of cigarettes, and to your surprise, he handed it to you without a complaint. You swiped it away and hid it in your pockets too, he didn't say a word or pull a face at you. He simply crossed his arms and resumed resting in his original position.

You were upset, that you have nothing to pacify you at the moment. So you decided to be petty and proceed to break all his cigarettes, reducing them into mere leaves of tobacco and shreds of rolling paper.

He watched you wide-eyed, his mouth opened and shut, as if he was about to say something but decided against it in the end. Cyprus is having a hard time controlling his breathing and the twitches in his eyelids. You just shredded $50 worth of cigarettes.

But... it was fair. He helps you break this addiction towards this bright brick, and you break his addiction to lung cancer. Though, it doesn't hurt any less that a good pack has gone to waste.

You got up and chucked it into the trashcan nearby, marching off to sit far away from Cyprus.

He simply stood up and sat next to you. So you moved. Then he moved. You moved, he moved.

This sequence went on until your name was called by the nurse.

He gently slapped your bum as you walked to the consultation room. You whipped back and flipped him off. Cyprus simply shrugged and grinned at you.

He watched you disappear past the door frame. The nurse closed the door behind you a bit after that.

Cyprus rose from his seat and took long strides to the bin. He looked down uneasily at the desecrated carcinogenic sticks.

He sighed, taking his glasses off and massaging the bridge of his nose.

It's going to be difficult. But he's willing to work with you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x reader #oc cyprus #yandere coworker #yandere oc male #male yandere oc #yandere x female reader #tw afab reader #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #cw yandere #tw: yandere

[rachaelswrites]

Poppy

Emily Prentiss x daughter!reader

Based on Murder Song by Aurora

Word Count: 2,641

A/N: I’ve had this song stuck in my head forever so I had to write something. I hope you guys like it

Warnings: Kidnapping, mentions of blood, guns major character death,

Your mom prepared you for this. She always told you to watch your back and she taught you to protect yourself, but you let her down. It was as if everything she told you left your brain. It could’ve been the fear coursing through your veins or the drugs still clouding your memory. Emily told you what to do but you just couldn’t. 

  It felt like years but in reality you were only missing for three days. The team didn’t know if you were still alive. Emily’s hope is the only thing that kept the team going. She believed in her little girl and knew she could fight her way through anything. She knew her daughter was smart and knew she was holding on. 

You weren’t thinking clearly and you tried to remember what happened to you. You remember that your mom was coming home after a stressful day at work. You knew she loved her wine so you set out the bottle and a glass for her. While waiting for her, you went into your room and did homework. You heard a window shatter. You snuck into your mom’s room and found her hidden gun. You slowly walked into the living room and kitchen. You saw a man looking through some of the books on the shelves. 

“I’ll shoot you. Don’t move,” you trained the gun on the man in front of you. You tried to keep your voice steady but it shook a little. 

The man laughed darkly, “Now, why would you do that Poppy?”

You froze. That was the identity you used after your mom faked her death. You went to Paris with her and continued living as Poppy. Nobody except JJ and your mom knew that name. 

“Or do you go by Y/n now? I don’t remember.” 

“How do you know me?” you moved your finger closer to the trigger. 

“You’re not going to kill me. You were always a curious little girl. Do you remember? It was a long time ago.” 

You tried to remember. You were only in Paris for a year and you were young. You looked back to where the man was but he was gone. You were too focused on remembering him that you didn’t notice he came up behind you and snatched the gun out of your hand. 

He threw it across the room, “I don’t want to hurt you Poppy. I want you to learn.” 

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t remember this man. You thought you could try and stall him until your mom got home. Your phone was in your room so you couldn’t call anyone. You looked for something to hit him with. You spotted the wine bottle. Surely Emily would forgive you. 

You reached for the bottle and hit him on the back of the head. It shattered, spilling red wine and glass everywhere. It didn’t seem to phase him. You tried to run and scream but he grabbed you and covered your mouth with a cloth. 

When Emily came home, she saw the mess but nothing else was out of place. She saw some blood and figured you just dropped the bottle off the counter and cut yourself, trying to clean up.

“Y/n are you ok?” 

She didn’t hear any noise coming from the bathroom or your room. She went into the bathroom and nothing had been touched since this morning. When she went into your room, your homework was open and your phone on your desk. It was still on and you had tons of missed notifications. She went into her room and saw the safe that held her gun was open and the gun itself was missing. 

She ran back into the living room and saw the gun on the floor. She looked around the room and saw the shattered window. She ran out of the apartment and called the team. 

The sound of a lock clicking distracted you from your thoughts. The man opened the door and sat on the bed across from the chair you were sitting in.

“Do you want to talk?” he asked.

“Talk about what? You kidnapped me. I have nothing to say to you,” you spat at him. He was keeping you in a house. You were in one of the bedrooms. The window was boarded up and there were no clocks. You didn’t know the time or day. To be honest, you gave up. You saw his face. You knew he would kill you. You just wanted it to be over, “Are you going to tell me how you’re going to kill me? Because if not, then I don’t care.” 

“I already told you. I have no interest in hurting you. I want you to learn about your mom. I want you to understand why I’m better than her,” he stood up and walked towards you. 

You stood up also, trying to challenge him, “I have nothing to learn from you. You’re just a sick son of a bitch who gets off on kidnapping kids.” 

He laughed in your face, “I see you listen to things your mother tells you. If you don’t want to talk to me, maybe you’ll talk to her,” he gripped your hair roughly and dragged you through the house into the living room. All these windows were boarded up as well. 

“My mom? What did you do to her?” 

He grabbed a cell phone and dialed a number, putting it on speaker, “Nothing yet,” he waited until a person spoke. It was Rossi. 

“It’s about time we spoke. It’s been a few days,” Rossi said calmly. 

“Put Emily on the phone.” 

“Not until we know the girl is alive.” 

The man motioned for you to come closer, but you shook your head.

 “Come on Poppy. Don’t be shy. It’s just your mother,” 

On the other end of the call, the team was confused. Except for Emily and JJ. 

“How does he know that?” JJ asked Emily. 

“Know what? Does the name Poppy mean anything?” Alvez asked. 

“It was her identity while I was in Paris. It was a way to keep her with me and to keep her safe,” Emily looked around the room. Her eyes landed on Reid. 

“I thought she was with your mom. That’s what you said,” Reid was the most hurt when she “died.” he wanted to take you in, raise you so you could remember your mom and follow in her footsteps, “You lied again.”

“Just to keep her safe.”

It was one of the rare times Emily got to have you. Her job wasn’t stable enough for a toddler, but your dad’s was. 

She had a week off and she knew how much you loved France. You were only three but you talked non-stop about it. You always wanted to go and she surprised you. 

“Momma where are we going?” you asked her. She was holding your hand at the train station.

“It’s a surprise Y/n.” she said back.

“I don’t wike surpwises,” you pouted. You crossed your arms over your chest.

Emily crouched down next to you, lifting your head with her finger, “Don’t pout. I promise it’ll be worth it,” she moved some hair behind your ear and tightened your coat around you. 

On the train, Emily sat you on her lap. She listened to you babble about certain things that caught your eye. Whether it was a cow with a certain pattern or an especially fluffy cloud. You two reached your stop and your mom helped you off the train. 

“Where are we?”

Emily lifted you up so you could see over the station, “Those are poppies. There the flower you like so much,”

The attention was turned back to the phone, “Let me talk to Emily and she can talk to Poppy.”

Emily took the phone from Rossi, “Did you hurt her? Because if you did I sw-”

“Relax. She’s fine,” there was a pause before you were handed the phone. 

“Momma? Please help me.” 

Emily’s heart broke. You hadn’t called her that in years, “I’m trying Y/n I promise. Can you give me any details about where you are?” 

The man looked at you and pulled out a gun. He would shoot you if you talked.

“No, I can’t. He said he knows me from Paris but I don’t remember.” 

“That’s ok, anything helps.”

“What day is it? I can’t see anything. The windows in the house are boarded.” 

That was definitely a hint to where you were. Before she had a chance to respond, a loud sound from the phone startled everyone. 

“Shut up!” there was a loud thud and the sound of your screams filled the phone and the line went dead. 

The man hit you in the head with the butt of the gun and shoved you to the floor. He started kicking you all over, “I told you to listen! You didn’t and now, I get to have my way!” he pulled you up by the collar of your shirt and punched you in the eye. He dropped you, “Go to your room!” he shoved you in the direction of the hallway. You limped back to the door and slammed it shut.

You were confused. What did he want from you? You sat on the bed carefully. Your body was covered in cuts and bruises. You let your mind wander, trying to forget about the pain scorching your body.

You entered the building, hand in hand with your dad. There were tons of people working at desks or standing and talking.

 “Daddy where are we,” you looked up at him. 

He smiled back down at his four year old daughter, “This is where momma works. You wanted to see her right?” 

You nodded. 

A man stopped you two and asked where you were going, “We need to see Emily Prentiss, is she here?”

At the mention of her name, she turned, “Caleb? Y/n?” 

“Emily, it’s been a while,” your dad let go of your hand, letting you run to your mom.

“Momma!” you ran into her arms and she picked you up, kissing you on the cheek. 

“Oh my gosh! You’ve gotten so big!”

“Daddy says I look like you.” 

She smiled and looked at your dad, “Y/n what don’t you go with Spencer while me and daddy talk,” she set you down and you ran over to Spencer. He took you into another room.

The man walked into the room, “I’m sorry. My anger got the best of me. Same thing happened to my daughter,” he sat down on the bed, “They took her from me.”

“You had a daughter?” All the things your mother said about profiling was coming back to you. This guy was a narcissist. All you had to do was keep him talking, long enough for the team to find you. 

“I did. I lost her a year before you came. You reminded me so much of her. I wanted, no. Needed to get closer to you.” 

“So you took me from my mom. How does that help your daughter?” 

“They called me a bad parent,” he looked up from his hands to you, “I watched you, making sure she took care of you.”

“She did. She loved me. She made sure I was safe.” 

“No! She didn’t! She took you from everything. I had to wait for years to give you the life you wanted! Don’t you remember?” 

His yelling made you flinch, “Please just let me go home. If you want justice just let me go,” you tried to plead with him but his mind was made up. 

“You get one more call with her,” and with that, he left the room and locked the door. 

You pieced together his words. He was going to kill you. Just like he did his daughter. He thought he was the best dad anyone could have. Anybody else wasn’t worthy and any child in their care was suffering. He was planning on putting you out of your misery. 

You flopped back onto the bed. You looked at the ceiling and prayed your mom was going to find you in time. 

You were sitting on the floor, watching Spencer perform a magic trick, trying to distract you. Your parents were in the other room and you could hear them arguing. You didn’t know what it was about, but you thought it was you. You watched as your dad pointed at you and then handed your mom a piece of paper. She said something to him and he stormed out of the room, leaving you. 

You stood up and tried to get to your mom.

“Y/n you should stay in here,” Spencer tried to keep you in the room but you wiggled out of his grip and ran to your mom. 

“Momma are you ok?” you waited for her to look at you. She had tears in her eyes. 

“Come here,” she said softly. You crawled onto her lap and looked up, “How would you like to stay with momma for a while? You can get your own room.” 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when the door busted open. The man grabbed you by your arm, still bruised and making you wince, “Shut up Poppy,” he whispered, “They’re here.” 

You widen your eyes, “Mom! Help! I’m in here!” 

“I said shut up!” he pushed you into a wall. 

You felt blood trickling down your neck. 

The team had managed to track you down, thanks to your hint about the abandoned house. They used the security camera footage from the streets outside your apartment to find the unsub. They tracked his car to this house. 

Emily heard you call out for her. Her and Rossi rushed into the room, busting down the door. They saw you, with a gun against your head. They trained their weapons on the man. Emily never broke eye contact with you.

 “Mom please don’t. Let me go you’ll be fine without me,”

“I’m going to get you out I promise. Don’t give up please,” she saw the fight slowly leaving your eyes. 

He held you in a chokehold. You were bruised and bloody. She almost didn’t recognize you. 

“You can’t shoot me without shooting her. But don’t worry. We’ll be happier,”

“Where are you going?” Rossi asked. He was giving the rest of the team time to get in position. 

“She’ll be better with me. She won’t suffer anymore Emily. She’ll be in good hands.” 

You had enough. You wanted all of this to be over. Your anger bubbled and it spilt.

“I hope you don’t mean yours.” 

“Enough!” he held onto you tighter, keeping you from running. 

“Let her go. Give me my daughter. We don’t want anyone getting hurt,” Emily tried to reason with him. She saw your tear-stained face and you both knew what was going to happen.

 “I love you,” her hand was shaking.

“I love you too.”

The gunshot rang through the house. Your body fell onto the ground, lifeless. Rossi shot the man in the chest. He dropped to the ground. He clutched your hand in his, “I’m sorry Poppy,” 

Emily shot him, making him drop your hand, “Don’t call her that. Rossi, call an ambulance,” she told Rossi. 

He looked at her, “Emily.”

“Call one now!” she sat on her knees next to you, pulling you onto her lap, “Y/n please, wake up. Please! Help is coming. Stay awake for me,” her tears were dropping onto your shirt. It was one of hers. You two always fought about it. It was her favorite but you loved it. It was now tear and blood stained. 

Rossi came over and put his hand on Emily’s shoulder, “Emily, I’m sorry, but she’s gone.” 

Taglist

@ssebstann @peachyprincessss @emmy-writes-sometimes @dudele @kerrswriting @laura-naruto-fan1998

#x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction

[jewish-space-laser]

ok i have an idea for a cbl blurb? could u do a blurb from harry’s pov from the night where he got drunk and how he felt when he saw yn and stuff? ik it already happened but i think seeing it from his viewpoint would be interesting!

Could be Lethal - Part Three (Harry’s POV)

“And every time I’ve held a rose, It seems I only felt the thorns, And so it goes, and so it goes, And so will you soon I suppose...”

– And So It Goes, Billie Joel

HELLO EVERYONE! It’s been months since I’ve posted anything on here, but I randomly got the motivation to pick this up last week. I apologize in advance for my rusty writing skills! This ask has literally been sitting in my inbox for 10 months, so posting it actually feels quite cleansing. Anyway, here is a (long) blurb full of angst, angst, and you guessed it, angst! I hope you love Harry’s take of that night as much as I do. I love you all muchly, thank you for your ongoing love and support <3 xoxoxoxoxoxoxooox Tile

(3.8k word)

You and Harry were friends, with a capital ‘F’. Yeah, you’ve been sleeping in his bed for the past two months, and maybe your entire nervous system goes into hyperdrive when you’re in the same room, but that’s normal, right?

or

The one where you and Harry have an arrangement… of the cuddling sort.

 See the CBL masterlist here!

WARNING: Detailed descriptions of heavy drinking

~~~

It was bullshit. It was all bullshit. 

Harry was miserable. He knew it, his friends knew it, his family knew it… it seemed the only person who wasn’t picking up on his desperation was you. 

You were a complete enigma to him. Sometimes, you were the warmest, most open person he’d ever met, indulging him with interesting conversations, stupid jokes, and even the occassional existential discussion. It was always difficult for Harry to truly open up to a person, having been jaded time and time again by people who weren’t able to look past his famous exterior. 

That’s what makes it so much harder, he thinks. Knowing you properly, you knowing him properly. It made the moments where you were closed off harsher, colder, more difficult to read. 

Since you left his house two days prior, he had done just about anything he could to take his mind off of you. He loved thinking about you, but he also hated thinking about you. It was tortuous and circular and he just wanted a brief moment of emotional respite. 

No, he didn’t want respite, he needed it. 

So he watched all three Lord of the Rings movies in a row, tested out a new stir fry recipe, spent way too much money online shopping, and even scrolled through the Humane Society website in a moment of weakness. But none of it mattered, because even if he could distract himself for a moment, you were still there, lingering in the peripherals of his mind like a song stuck in his head. 

It was dizzying and mind-boggling, and Harry was at a loss for what to do. So when Sunday morning rolled around and it still felt like his lungs were being crushed into a ball, he started drinking. 

It was only 8:00AM, but he bypassed the coffee cabinet and went straight to the fridge, pulling out a chilled bottle of champagne. The pop of the cork was as loud as a gunshot, but Harry didn’t even flinch, hardly registering the sound of it hitting the floor across the room as he rushed the bottle to his lips. 

Bubbles fizzed past his tongue and dripped down his chin, sliding down his bare chest before puddling on the floor. He had to squeeze his eyes shut tightly at the burn of the carbonation, but each gulp sent pleasant tingles over his skin. 

For the first time in ages, his mind felt numb. He didn’t necessarily feel good, but he didn’t feel miserable anymore, and that’s what mattered. He could close his eyes without seeing your smile flash in his head, he could listen to music without immediately relating the lyrics to you, and after his second bottle of wine, he was even able to brew a cup of coffee without thinking of you. 

Okay, maybe he thought of you a little. 

At some point, he passed out on the couch, cartons of Vietnamese takeout sitting cold on his coffee table. When his eyes finally blinked open, the sun had already started to set.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. There was a familiar ache pulsing behind his eyes, and he groaned loudly into his empty house. It never used to feel empty, but now you’d come and gone, and it was too late. You’d left your mark on his house and his coffee and his heart… so he drank more. 

There was no more wine, so he started in on his collection of hard liquor, expensive bottles lined on top of his cupboards. Normally they were reserved for when he had guests over, but this fell into the realm of desperation. His sunken eyes scanned the glass bottles before settling on the cheapest of them, an unopened Maker’s Mark. It would do. 

He was pouring a healthy sized glass of the whisky, and then suddenly he wasn’t. His heavy eyes blinked in confusion as he stared across the bar at the bartender, who was raising his eyebrows expectantly. 

“That’ll be thirty-five pounds, mate,” the bartender said, “got roped into buying the first round, eh?”

“Yeah,” Harry grunted, glancing over his shoulder to see Thomas and Jessie watching him from a booth. 

He doesn’t remember leaving his house, let alone coming to the pub with his friends. In fact, if he tried to think about it, his memory of the entire day felt fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit together. 

In his mind, this was a success. A full day gone without thinking about you or talking to you or seeing you. The clock behind the bar read 00:43 in red neon numbers. He took one of the shots quickly, signing the bill and taking the remaining five back to his friends. 

“Harry mate, we told you we’re not getting pissed tonight,” Thomas groaned, “what’d you get six shots for?”

“What kind are they?” Jessie asked, wrinkling their nose. 

“I dunno,” Harry shrugged, setting the tray down directly in front of himself. His vision swayed to and fro, but he still managed to down another shot, disregarding the concerned look his friends shared. “It’s rum. If you don’t want any, that’s fine.”

“It’s a Sunday, mate,” Thomas reminded him gently.

“We’re at a pub, aren’t we?” Harry slurred. “Supposed to get drunk here.”

“You asked us to come here,” Jessie said slowly, “said you needed to talk to us about something.”

Harry blinked at them slowly, swaying slightly in his seat. He didn’t remember any of this. 

“Actually, he said he needed a drink,” Thomas corrected, “I didn’t realize he meant twenty drinks.”

Another shot burned down his throat, and then everything was cold. 

“Harry.”

His head was pounding. Every limb felt heavy. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes, already overwhelmed by the echo of Thomas’s voice reverberating off of the tile floors. 

“Harry.”

He knew that somebody was trying to get his attention, but he just couldn’t. The alcohol had done its job for most of the day, keeping his brain muddled down and diluted just to spare him the pain of remembering. But now, it backfired, trapping him inside his own head with no way out, with nothing to do but remember. He could hear people talking in the background, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was as if he was underwater, slipping further and further down with each painful clench of his heart.

He felt a hand press against his arm, and jerked away, causing his stomach to twist. He didn’t want to be here anymore, and he certainly didn’t want to be bothered. 

“G’way, Thomas,” he managed to grunt. 

“It’s me.”

Your voice was clear as crystal to him, but he knew it couldn’t be real. You had left him, after all.

The image of you driving away from his house was burned into his memory, playing over and over again in slow motion. If he thought hard enough, he could even remember the way your body had felt beneath his, whining and squirming and gasping, just like he’d always dreamed about. He could remember the sunken expression on your face the next morning, the heavy silence of the car ride to the coffee shop. He could remember how he’d hoped, so badly, that you’d finally talk about it, this unspoken connection that could no longer be denied. Most of all, he remembers the way his heart dropped when you told him that you didn’t remember any of it.

Another gentle brush, this time along his hairline, and he managed to open his eyes just a sliver. 

You looked amazing. Well, there were circles under your eyes, you were wearing your pajamas and slippers, and you were frowning in concern, but to Harry, you were the most beautiful thing. 

 “You’re here… y’really here….” he sighed. 

You were crouched in front of him, holding a plastic cup of water, and all he wanted to do was pull you into his chest. You looked sleepy and cosy, just like you always did when you stayed over. Before he could reach out to pull you close, you were putting the rim of the cup against his bottom lip.

He took it, grateful for the relief it provided his dry mouth. For the first time since he came to, he took in his surroundings. He was in a single stall bathroom, curled on the floor next to the toilet. The walls were an ugly pale yellow, while the floors were white, making the streaks of dirt and grime more noticeable than ever. Thomas was leaning against the sink across the room, watching you as you tried to get him to finish the cup. 

“Y’look so pretty, always look so good,” Harry slurred, “just wanna snuggle, like we always do.”

He loved the way your mouth dropped open. Everything about you was endearing, really. He watched as you twisted your head to say something to Thomas, water sloshing around in the cup when you nodded your head quickly. Thomas left immediately after, but Harry hardly even noticed. 

When you turned back around to face him, he felt blinded. Despite the dark circles under your eyes, they’re bright and they pierce through him just like always. He loves the color of your skin and the shape of your nose and the little crease that forms between your eyebrows when you’re anxious. He thinks he could probably paint you with his eyes closed. 

Warmth licked across his skin when you brushed your fingertips against his forehead, tucking a stray lock of hair back into place. Harry leaned into your touch, unwilling to let the moment pass too quickly. 

“Can you try taking a sip of water, H?” You tilted your head. “For me?”

He could have laughed, had he not been so nauseated. He would do anything for you normally, but he really did feel awful. “G’na make me sick,” he insisted, wrinkling his nose at the cup in your hand. Even though he could hardly focus, his eyes zeroed in on the faded X scrawled in sharpie on the back of your hand, a souvenir from your night out at TAVERN. He had a matching mark on his hand, and he dreaded the moment the ink would wash off fully. Just another thing forgotten.

He just wanted you.  

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the look on your face told him that it had slipped out. There was no way he regretted it though, not with you right in front of him. Not in this state of mind. 

“It’s gonna make you feel better, and then we can go home,” you urged softly, scooting a tiny bit closer to him.

Home. When he thought of home, he thought about mornings in his house, sunlight filtering in through the blinds and leaving shadowed stripes across your skin. Home was the way you squinted your eyes tighter together right before waking up. Home was you at his kitchen table, going off at him about not doing his dishes. 

“Y’coming home w’me?” He managed to say. Your eyes softened.

“Only if you drink this whole cup,” you lifted it up to him once again, gingerly tilting his head up with a finger on his chin. Even though he felt like his stomach would combust if tried to swallow anything, he allowed you to help him drink some water. Some sloshed messily onto his shirt, but it felt sobering. You met his eyes for a moment, “is that good?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

If you asked him to drink water, he would drink water. He would drink an entire ocean of water. It was achingly clear to literally everybody but you. He could tattoo your name over his heart and you still wouldn’t see.

You gulped loudly, but didn’t say a word, simply prompting him to take another sip of water. He wished more than anything that you’d say something. Make some kind of facial expression. He just wanted a signal, a sign, that you felt anything towards him; disgust, affection, pity. 

He was sure you must pity him. 

Harry drank the rest of the water, cheeks burning as he asked you for a refill. He was still drunk, but the fog had cleared enough for him to sit up straight without feeling like he was going to hurl. He watched you refill the cup in the sink that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in decades, but that was honestly the least of his concerns. 

“Y’must think I’m pathetic,” he grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head back against the wall. “Can’t lose you.”

“You haven’t lost me,” he heard you say quietly.

But it felt like he had. Because even though you were friends, it wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t fall asleep to the sound of your soft exhales. It wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t feel that rush of excitement when you sneakily texted him under the table on nights out. Having you at a distance could never be enough. 

“Harry…” you sighed, rubbing your eyes, “why did you drink so much tonight?”

If your obliviousness hadn’t been so devastating, he would have laughed. How could you sit here with him, look into his eyes, and not see that his heart was entirely in your hands? How could he explain anything to you if you hadn’t already seen it?

So he wouldn’t try. Not right now. 

He mustered up the strength to push up onto his knees, managing to stand up fully with your steady grip on his arms. He took one shaky step as his head spun, and felt your arms snake around his waist to keep him balanced. Without even thinking about it, he wrapped his arm over your shoulder, reveling in the feeling of having you so close as you helped him out of the toilet. 

You brought him to a stop in the main room by the bar, and he couldn’t help but bury his nose into the top of your head. You smelled just like you always did. It had only been a few nights, but your scent was already fading on his bedsheets. 

“Y’smell like lavender,” he hummed, squeezing your arm lightly, “s’like you’re tryin; t’torture me…. So pretty.”

It really was torture, having you hold onto him as you both walked out of the pub. You were distracting, with your warm skin and soft hands. Each step was difficult; his feet were heavy as anvils and he just wanted to curl up right here on the sidewalk. 

Just as he was considering plopping down on the pavement, he heard the familiar beep of your car opening. He closed his eyes once he was sat in the passenger seat, feeling you fuss over his seatbelt. He flinched slightly when you slid a cold water bottle between his knees.

Harry blinked, and then suddenly you were buckled in behind the steering wheel, poking his arm and peering at him with tired eyes. “Can you stay awake for me, H? Just till we get to your house, okay?”

“Y’coming to my house?”

You were so good to him, all the time. By the looks of your attire, you were ready to be in bed hours ago, yet here you were, patient as ever.

“Yes, I’m taking you home,” you said through a yawn. 

“Miss having you at my house,” Harry exhaled. He didn’t even know what he was saying really, just the same thoughts and memories circling through his mind like planets around the sun, all them centered on you. “My sheets don’t smell like you anymore.”

Suddenly, he felt hot all over. His trousers were too scratchy against his skin, his palms felt clammy, and the longer you stayed silent on the other side of the car, his stomach started turning. In an effort to cool off and calm down, he let his head fall against the window, the cool glass soothing his skin. 

Drunk or not, he was trying to tell you how he feels, he was constantly trying to tell you how he feels… and you didn’t say a word. You never did. It was so frustrating that he found himself biting back tears. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, you cleared your throat. “You can’t…” your voice cracked, “you can’t say things like that, Harry. It hurts me when you say things like that.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Harry managed to say. “But it’s the truth.”

He was so confused. How on earth could you be hurting when he was sitting here with his arms wide open? Was he so repulsive that the mere thought of being with him caused you pain, somehow?

He was too drunk for this. 

Luckily, you seemed to be on the wavelength. “Let’s just… not talk,” you said, shoulders slumped. 

Harry was feeling awfully dejected himself. He’d spent the last few days trying to cope with his complicated feelings, and now he was back at square one. Every time he thought he knew where the two of you stood, you would say something vague and he would start all over. Your relationship was like a house of cards; delicate, fragile, and knocked to the ground with the slightest shift, the tiniest gust of wind. 

The headache started out small, but by the time you pulled your car into Harry’s driveway, he was feeling like he might keel over. Somehow, he was simultaneously drunk and hungover. If he was going to make it up the stairs to his room, he was going to need something in his stomach, and water that wasn’t from a pub bathroom.

It was humiliating enough that he’d needed you to help him from the car, but upon entering his house, he nearly kicked his shoe through the living room window, grumbling about toast. He knew he’d been less than impressive tonight, but perhaps this was what you needed -- seeing him at rock bottom -- to finally open up and have a real conversation about what you could be. 

When he woke up in the morning, he would be sober, and he would be ready. He would make you coffee like he always does, and maybe he’d even run out and pick up fresh pastries.

“Want some toast,” he said, though he was fairly certain he’d said it once already. 

You were standing in front of him, toes just inches apart, and it felt instinctive to place his hands on your waist and pull you in. The silk pajama top you were wearing was cool against his hands, but he could feel the heat of your skin underneath, the frantic thumping of your heart against your ribcage tickling his fingertips.

Your hands were on his shoulders to keep him steady, but he was suddenly feeling more sober than he had all night. All day, really. 

Harry slid his hands further behind you, locking together behind your back. Having you close felt incredible. It hadn’t even been three days since he last saw you, yet every atom in his body was craving your touch.

“You, um,” he felt your shaky whale against his collar bone, “you have to let go of me if you want me to make you toast.”

Letting go of you felt physically impossible, so instead, Harry dipped his head down and rested his forehead against yours. The anticipation was excruciating as he waited for you to do what you always did: sink into his arms, wrap yourself around him, soothe him to sleep with the weight of your head on his chest.

Fissures cracked through his heart when you pushed him back, taking a single step back that may as well have been a mile. Suddenly, the air all around him felt cold, the room felt darker, the silence felt louder. He took a deep breath in, but still felt like he was suffocating.

“Do you really not remember?”

He needed to know. He had done everything in his power to think about anything else, but had somehow ended up here, standing face to face with you. He wonders if this is how it was supposed to be, if throwing you together over and over again was the universe’s ultimate plan, if all of this misery would be worth it in the end. 

He’d experienced heartbreak before, but this was something else. And when you choked out, “Harry, please don’t make me say it,” in the smallest voice he’d ever heard you use, he knew that he could write millions of records about the pain of this moment, and still never do it justice.

“You remember, don’t you?”

All you did was nod your head once, but he suddenly felt drained. Maybe it was the full day of heavy, reckless drinking… or maybe it was the realization that things really might not work out. He still wanted to try, though. Even though you’d left the other day, there were countless other times you had stayed. For months you’d been coming over in secret, coming out of your shell and showing him how amazing you really were. That had to count for something; there had to be a reason. 

Coffee. He would make coffee in the morning and the two of you would fix everything. 

“Should we head to bed? ‘S getting kind of late, y’must be exhausted.”

You really did look tired, your eyes rimmed with red from yawning over and over, back hunched and shoulders slumped. He was feeling knackered himself, and was more than ready for this night to be over.

“Actually… I think I’m gonna head back home,” you gulped. Harry felt like he’d been slapped, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. It’s as if you’d turned to sand; there one moment and slipping through his fingers the next.

“You don’t want to stay?” Harry tried to keep his voice even, but even he could hear how it wavered. He clenched his jaw to keep from crying.

“I just… have to go home,” you said, looking everywhere but at him. 

He waited for you to say something else, but instead watched as you hoisted your purse further up onto your shoulder and walked out the door. Shell shocked, he stood there frozen, even as your headlights disappeared down the street. 

A long breath blew past his lips as he finally moved to lock his front door, any hope of you walking back through it dashed by the way you’d walked out for a second time. 

Harry likely would have benefited from a glass of water and pain medication, but with a buzzing brain and a shattered heart, all he could manage was to pass out on the couch fully clothed, dreaming about what might have been if you had just stayed.  

~~~

As always, let me know what you think! I love talking to you <3 xoxoxoxox Tile

[eerythingisshaka]

Ficmas Day #17 “The Jabari-cracker”

[M’Baku x Reader]

Word Count: 1.2k

This year for extra pay, you booked a gig for seasonal work at the mall; specifically, to work in Santa’s Workshop.  The classic setting with candy cane poles lining a path to the main man’s regal red and gold throne, flanked by mounds of cotton wool to simulate the terrain of the North Pole.  

The line remains long as parents and children wait impatiently for a picture with Santa Claus.  As you get dressed in the bathroom, you struggle to get your feet through the offensively green tights without risking stepping in a mysterious wetness on the floor by the toilet.  You hear the bathroom door open, followed by the intense scurry of a small child.

“Mommy!  I wanna see Santa!”  the kid exclaims, bouncing in her Mary Jane shoes as her mother’s sneakers squeak behind her. 

“I know, Katie.  But the line is long and you had a lot of apple juice this morning.  So if you pee on Santa, he may put you on the naughty list.”

They take the stall next to yours, just as you’re putting on your elf shoes. 

“Mommy look!  It’s his elf!  They’re peeing too!”

Her mother shushes her.  “Sorry Ms. Elf!  Katie, don’t talk to people while they are using the restroom.  

You roll your eyes, picking up your bag and exiting the stall.  As you wash your hands in the sink, the child runs out of the stall to hug your leg.  You look down to see the desperate eyes of the 7 year old.

“Can you tell Santa how good I’ve been?  And that I want a bunch of squishmallows?”

Her mother pulls her off of you.  “I’m sorry again!  Remember boundaries, Katie?”

Katie pokes a lip out as she is led out the bathroom.  “But I get to sit on Santa’s lap, why can’t I hug the elf?”

You rinse off your hands, ignoring the child completely as you put your jolly green hat on.

“Did they wash their fuckin hands?”

--

In the mall, you stand by Santa watching the clock as the minutes tick by before showtime is at eleven.

“Ho! Ho! Ho!  Santa can’t wait to meet you all!”  he exclaims heartily.

You paste a smile on your face as best you can, waving at the children.

“You don’t like this much, do you?”  

You look over and see Santa looking at you.

You shrug, feeling annoyed.  “It’s paying.”

Santa chortles.  “That’s not what I mean.  I mean your holiday spirit isn’t really into this, right?”

You look back at him with an attitude.  “Listen, I don’t usually talk to the Santas, so we are off to a bad start.  Second, how I FEEL isn’t your business.  Just smile for the kids so we can get the hell off.”

Santa chortles again, seemingly unbothered by your bluntness.  “I understand the holidays aren’t for everyone, especially working with children.”

You look him over, confused by his words.  “I still don’t get why you’re talking to me.”

“Oh it passes the time.”

You cross your arms in exasperation.  “Well I hope you aren’t the Santa all week.  Hearing the children is enough, I don’t need this too.”

“Oh I won’t be here long.  It’s time!”

The clock strikes as it turns eleven o’clock.  You open the velvet rope as the first child runs in on Santa.  He picks him up, letting out a jolly huff and puff and asks the usual questions and getting the usual answers while you take pictures of the joy and fear of every child who visits him.  This goes on for four hours until it is time to call it a day.

Santa stretches his legs as you pack up some equipment.

“Say, you did a good job today!  Would you like a treat from Santa too?”

You shake your head.  “I don’t like candy canes.”

Santa waves his hands.  “No, I am fresh out of them anyway.  Here, I think this might be what you would like.”  

He pulls out an M’Baku Funko Pop from behind his back, min condition in the box.  You take it from him with a scoff.

“How’d you know he’s my favorite character?”  you ask suspiciously, looking over the figure.

Santa chuckles while holding his belly.  “Because Santa knows many things!  No matter how old, we are all children at heart and we all need someone to love in our lives.”

You put the box under your arm as you pick up your bag.  “Ohhh kay.  Dating advice from a mall Santa.  Never thought things would get lower.” 

You wave goodbye to him as he shouts Merry Christmas after you.  When you get home, you kick off your shoes and fly for your bed as soon as possible.  Rubbing the soft fabric of your sheets calms you as your body melts into the mattress.  Before you get too comfortable though, you reach your bag on the floor and dig out the M’Baku figure again.  Flipping it on the back, you notice a message that you swear wasn’t there before.  

Wish for this and never will you miss

A holiday cheer from the one you hold dear

You snort out loud, flipping the toy to face you again.  “I wish you were real.  Big ass M’Baku himself coming in here to claim me as his Queen and make a village together.”  You laugh to yourself, tossing the box haphazardly on top of the bag again before turning over for a nap.

---

As you begin to stir awake, your eyes drift open but your vision is blurry,  A few blinks and you realize that a figure is knelt beside you.

“AGH!”  your scream makes the stranger scream as you fall backwards off the bed in shock.

“Don’t hurt yourself!  Are you ok, my Queen?”

A man stumbles before you in a grass skirt and bulky armor to take your hand.  Sitting up and wide eyed, you get a full visual of the man who invoked your terror.  

“M-M’Baku?”  you ask quietly.  

He nods.  “Your love, yes.  I didn't mean to startle you, but I maintained watch as you slept.  We are in a strange land.”

He gets up to look out of a window as you look over at the now empty box lying on your bag. You pick it up and flip it around but the saying on the back is not there anymore. 

“How do you know me?”  you ask.

M’Baku looks back at you curiously.  “I am your husband, don’t be playful right now.  I’m trying to understand why we are here instead of Wakanda.”

You get up and go over to M’Baku, pushing your finger into his arm to check for realness.  He looks down at you and smiles, taking your hand in his.

“Are you feeling more playful then I assumed, my love?”

You take your hand back, growing hot in the face.  “I don’t know.  I…”  You think for a moment about the situation you are in and weigh out the pros and cons.  Pro: a big strong handsome man is in your bedroom giving you eyes that signal he’s ready to scoop you up and lick you clean.  Cons:  you don’t know this man for sure and you don’t know for sure if you are planning to fuck a toy that came to life that morning. 

M’Baku comes close to you, cupping the side of your face, appearing concerned.  “If something is troubling you, speak.  I can’t bear my wife looking apprehensive.”

You look at him, feeling your body make a choice before you can verbalize it.  You take his hand and lead him toward the bed.

#m'baku x reader #shakafic #ficmas

[sad-boy-mono]

Highschool Casualties

Chapter 5/?

Masterpost with Ao3 link 

Word Count- 3,447

Ao3 link

A/N OK HOLY FUCK. Y'all, I'm so sorry this took so long to make. Not only did I have my own issues going on, but I had so much trouble deciding where I wanted to go with this chapter. Not only did I not know what to do with the story, but also I trouble trying to figure out how I wanted to word certain things and never felt just right. Even now as I'm posting this, I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, but I think it's the best I can do. So having said that, please enjoy!

“SHAYNE WAIT-” Damien was cut off by a small tone, indicating Shayne hung up on him.

“Shayne?” He pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at the screen.

“God-” Damien moaned as he slammed his hands against the bathroom stalls.

“-Damn it Shayne!” Damien dialed Shayne’s number again.

“Come on, Shayne, please, pick up.” Damien pleaded.

“Hey you’ve reached the number of Shayne Topp! I can’t talk-”

Damien hung up the phone with a huff, and began typing.

Damien

Shayne please

What’s going on?

What happened?

Are you ok?

Is someone hurt?

Are you hurt?

Please

Get back to me soon

At least tell me if you’re ok

Damien stared at his phone as he pealed out of the bathroom and went to his next class: English. He only had to wait out that class until lunch, where he would see Shayne. 

===

Damien entered the classroom, and all eyes turned to him.

"Oh Mr. Haas, glad you could show up. Go ahead and take your seat." His teacher, Mr. Hecox, said, pointing to the empty spot where Damien sat.

Damien nodded, silently thanking him for not making a scene of him being late, and walked over to the desk, keeping his head down.

He got to his seat and pulled out his phone once again. Glancing down at it anytime his teacher wasn’t looking, only partially listening to what Mr. Hecox was saying. 

It was about 10 minutes into his class when he noticed something. Shayne had read his messages. And he was typing. The three dots on his screen showing up and disappearing. His heart was racing.

Shayne

I’ll explain at lunch

And I’m okay for the most part

Damien

For the most part?!

Shayne what happened?!?!

Shayne

Lunch Damien

Damien

Fine

Damien slipped his phone into his bag. His mind was put to little ease, but he just had to wait out this one class. That shouldn’t be to hard. 

Just one class.

===

“Alright class, we have about... 8 minutes of left, and in that time you guys are gonna go ahead and turn in your essays!” Mr. Hecox said as some of the class dug through their bags, others asked if they could quickly print off their essays (which Mr. Hecox reluctantly agreed to). 

“Alright and um, Damien can you go ahead and collect those for me, please?” Mr. Hecox asked, Damien replying with a quiet ‘sure’. “Thank you! And if you could place them on my desk when you’re done that would be great.”

The rest of the class sat quietly. Some people reading a book, others on their phone. The only sounds in the room being Mr. Hecox typing on his computer, and Damien walking around the classroom.

“Thank you Damien!” Mr. Hecox said as Damien placed down the small stack of papers on his desk. He lowered his voice as he continued to speak, “And before you head for lunch, I’d like to speak with you.”

“O-ok.” Damien mumbled, and walked back to his seat. 

Damien stared at the clock. Only 4 minutes until lunch. He just had to wait 4 minutes.

Tick

3 minutes

Tick

2 minutes

Tick

1 minute

Tick

The bell rung throughout the halls. The class stood up and swung their bags over their shoulders. As his classmates robotically walked out of the room, Damien dragged himself to Mr. Hecox’s desk.

This better be quick. I don’t have time for this.

“Yes?” Damien asked, with an annoyed tinge in his voice. It wasn’t like Damien hated his teacher, no that wasn’t the case. He quite liked his english teacher, but he had somewhere to be. And whatever his teacher needed to talk to him about wasn’t nearly as important as getting to Shayne.

“Thanks for staying, I’ll make this quick since I know you want to head to lunch,”

Thank god.

“I’ve noticed that your grade in this class dropping over the course of this month. You’re not turning things in on time if you turn them in at all.”

“Ok?” Damien asked. They weren’t to far into the month, so it was hard to understand the concern.

“I was wondering if there was anything going on at home, or in your personal life. Because you’re usually really active in this class, one of my best students.”

“Well, um thanks... But I guess I've just been sort of busy..." 

It wasn't exactly a lie, Damien had been sort of busy. But in less of a 'I have so many activities going on in my life right now," and in more of a 'Wow I'm so tired and my head hurts all the time :D' kind of way.

“What’s been going on?”

Shit

“Uh, it’s sort of hard to explain. Kinda just a few things that built up these few weeks. Yeah sorry, again, sort of hard to explain. My brain kind of refuses to work when I’m hungry.” Damien hinted, fidgeting with cuff of his sleeve.

“Oh, um, yeah, alright. I’ll let you head to lunch in one second.” Mr. Hecox grabbed a notebook from under his desk, writing a few things down before turning his attention back to Damien.

“So, how does this sound; I let you go for now, and if things still seem to be doing pretty low, and not just in your grades, I’ll check back in with you next Friday. Okay?”

“Yeah, sound good to me.” Damien said, shifting his weight between his feet.

Alright! Then in the meantime you are good to go! Have a good day Mr. Haas!”

“You too, Mr. Hecox.”

Damien gave a slight wave before leaving the room.

===

Damien ran out of the classroom and down to the cafeteria. Speeding by groups of kids and teachers telling him to walk.

If I’m doing pretty low, and not just in my grades? What does that even mean? Ok you know what, it doesn’t matter. Maybe he just noticed that I’m tired or something, fuck if I know. God, stop thinking about it, that isn’t the concern right now, Damien! Just get to Shayne.

Once he got closer to the lunchroom, he stopped running and pulled out his phone. Shayne messaged him.

Shayne

Meet me in the elevator room near the caf

The one they closed down, not the new one.

Well I guess there’s no other Elevators near the caf

Ok it doesn’t matter you know what I meant

Meet me in the old elevator room.

Damien let out a small breath from his nose, amused at Shayne’s always amazing texting skills. He shoved his phone into his pocket and changed his direction to the elevator. 

He sped to the elevator, walking past more groups of students, many giving him a strange look as he went. Damien’s was heart racing harder than ever. Shayne wasn’t one to cause this type of panic. He was usually very straight to the point if he had any issues going on. And with that in mind, Damien realized how dire the situation must be. 

He walked inside, and there he saw Shayne, leaning against the wall inside.

“Oh thank god,” Damien walked into the room and gave Shayne a hug, “dude you had me so worried! I thought you were hurt.”

“Y-yeah, sorry, I-I’m fine.” Shayne said weakly, barely reciprocating.

“Ok, now-” Damien dropped his arms from Shayne, ”-what happened? Is there a reason that Courtney can’t know about this or-”

“She can know about it! And she’s probably gonna f-find out what happened soon...” Shayne mumbled, his voice wavering at the end. 

“And that’s not the point, Damien, but last time I checked, Courtney didn’t call me because she heard what I was thinking in her dream?! Dude how the-what in the- how?” Shayne asked, his hands on the back of his head, a hand occasionally running through his hair. He kept his head down, averting his eyes from Damien's. And Damien didn’t see it before, but Shayne wasn’t himself. 

“Shayne I-I don’t even know what happened!” Damien retorted, a creak coming from the door to the room as it began to close. “And this isn’t the first time I’ve called you because I’ve had a weird nightmare before!”

“Yeah? Tell me the last time you called me because of a nightmare, Damien. Better yet, tell me why you called me.”

Damien opened his mouth, the words getting caught in his through when he realized when it was. 

With a sigh Damien continued. “A few months ago...”

“And why did you call me?”

With another sigh, Damien answered. “We were in the danganronpa universe... and Courtney killed you with a creeper... While Revenge was playing...” Damien admitted, his voice slowly getting more mumbled with his explanation.

“Yeah you weren’t exactly dreaming the most realistic!”

“You have to admit it was kinda funny though.” Damien said, voice still mumbled.

“Yeah it was... But now is not the time for that!”

“Right, sorry.”

“And stop trying to change the subject! How did you know what happened?!” Shayne snapped.

“Shayne, for the love of god. I. Don’t. Know. All I said was that I heard you, and you sounded freaked out. I even asked you what happened when I called you. You said you would tell me at lunch! And I’ve spent the last period wondering what happened to you!”

“But how did you hear me?!” Shayne asked again, desperate for an answer to this strange situation.

“If I knew, I would’ve told you! So please, just fucking tell me what happened!” Damien snapped. 

“OK! Fine! I...” Shayne paused, trying to find the right words.

“I almost killed a someone.”

“WHAT?!” Damien put his hands over his mouth, taking a step back. Shock filling his eyes. 

Ok, should’ve taken a bit more time to think about the wording there, Shayne.

Damien took his hands off his mouth and tried to force words out. A sentence, a question, anything. The only thing to come out were small croaks. 

“Ok no, not killed, I didn’t do that, h-he’s going to be fine. He’s just, Injured? Concussed?” Shayne explain quickly, still trying to find the best way to word this.

“Hurt badly.” Shayne settled on.

“Okay h-how did this happen? Did you trip him or- don’t tell you got into a fight!” Damien’s eyes changed from shock, back to worry. 

“What! No! I’m not like that anymore dude! You know I-I wouldn’t do that!”

“I know! I do! It’s just... How else could this have happened?”

“O-okay so it’s gonna be hard to believe, but you have to trust me. Please.” Shayne, for the first time this conversion, looked Damien dead in the eyes as he pleaded.

“Yeah of course!”

Shayne went on to explain the incident once more, being more detailed than in his previous explanations, though still jumbled up in the troubling nature of what happened. He was shaky, and stuttering. 

“Oh.” Damien replied once Shayne concluded the story. 

“Yeah...”

There was a beat of silence before either of them spoke again.

“A-are you sure he didn’t just... trip? When you hit him?” Damien asked cautiously. 

“Th-there’s no way! It looked like-” 

“I know what it probably looked like.” Damien cut off. “But are you sure you’re not just... misremembering?”

“N-no, I know what I saw! You don’t fly back like that when you trip Damien!”

“Yes I get that but-”

“You said you would trust me on this, Damien!” Shayne said, his voice cracking as he spoke more. Eyes welling up.

“I know! And I do! I do-I really do. It’s just...” Damien sighed, trying to collect his thoughts. “Adrenaline was running, a lot was happening, and it was probably hard to think clearly. Everything might’ve looked more dramatic than it was.”

Shayne stood their in silence, opening his mouth as if he was trying to speak, but no words were coming out. He wiped the tear from his eye.

He’s right

“Yeah. And I’m not trying to like, dismiss your feelings, it’s just... ya know... You’re strong, but not exactly super human strong. No one is.” Damien said, letting out a dry chuckle. 

“Ok how are you doing that?” Shayne barked.

“Doing what?” Damien asked, taken aback by the sudden harshness Shayne was exuding.

“Am I speaking? Because I swear I thought that last thing in my head.” 

“D-did you not just say something?” 

“No, I didn’t! How are you doing that!”

“Doing what?!” Damien asked, panic flooding his voice and mind.

“It’s been happening all day! I’ve just thought I was saying things aloud accidentally! But it’s like you’re reading my mind!” Shayne’s tone was getting more accusatory. Like he was calling Damien out for a crime. 

“Shayne, come on, you know that’s impossible-”

“Oh and I was literally thinking earlier ‘haha maybe Damien’s reading my mind! Wouldn’t that be funny? Just like the whole joke people have! But nooo there’s no way! I’m probably just more tired than I though!” Shayne lashed.

“C’mon Shayne, are you sure you’re not overthinking this? We already established that today’s been a little off for you.” Damien said, but he sounded unsure of himself. Like he didn’t truly believe what he was saying himself.

“Oh don’t try and change the subject back to me. And things haven’t been off with me all day, just since gym. You on the other hand,” Shayne took a step towards Damien. “Have been acting very off this entire day.”

“I mean, I’m tired dude. Not getting enough sleep does that to you!” Damien said quietly, trying to rationalize his behavior. 

“Oh so not getting enough sleep means you're able to reply to the things I think in my head?” Shayne questioned, taking another step towards Damien.

“But that’s impossible, when has that ever happened?” Damien asked softly, his voiced was laced anxiety. He slowly taking a step away from Shayne.

“Oh? Maybe on the way to school?” 

Shayne’s took a step closer.

“Or when we met up with Courtney?” 

And he was being so loud.

“Or when I was walking you to the nurse’s office?” 

He sounded so angry.

“Or how about when you where able to know what I was thinking, in your fucking dream!” 

“OK!” Damien shouted. The lights flickered, and the clock on the wall cracked. 

Damien backed away from Shayne (who was standing no more than a foot away from him), his arms covering his head as he curled in on himself. 

“I-i get it! Just stop yelling! Please.” Damien kept backing up until he was against the wall. He slid down, choking back a sob. 

Shayne stood in shock, and realization. He hurt his best friend. Things were, literally and figuratively, falling apart.

“Damien I-”

“I know! I-I know. Don’t apologize. I-it’s my fault. The reason you wanted to talk was so you could tell me what happened. This was suppose to be about you, I made it about me. I-I don’t know why I’m upset. I should’ve been less selfish.” Damien hid his head further into the security of his arms. Tears streaming down his face.

Guilt creeping up on Shayne as he stared at his friend. He didn’t know what else to do, so he slid down and sat a few feet away from Damien. Close enough to be able to comfort Damien, but far enough away where he could reject his presence if he needed to.

“This wasn’t your fault.” Shayne said, looking blankly at the broken clock

Damien lifted his head slightly to look at Shayne. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean this wasn’t your fault. There isn’t much behind it.” Shayne chuckled sadly “I pushed it. I was... angry? Confused? I think confused is more accurate, but that doesn’t matter.”

Damien shrugged, he didn’t really have much to say at the moment.

“And you didn’t make this about you,” Shayne continued. “I did. I brought you up. If I wanted this to be one sided, I would’ve just told you what happened over the phone. But I wanted to know what happened on your end.”

“Yeah I guess...”

“And we figured out the situation that’s going on with me. He probably just tripped. But there’s something going on with you. I think it’s more than you being sleep deprived.”

Damien nodded. “Yeah...”

“And I think I know what’s going on.”

“Sure, but I don’t.”

“Damien I think you do, you just don’t want to face it.” Shayne softly said.

Damien sighed and shrugged his shoulders, taking seclusion in his arms once more.

They sat in tense silence, unknowing to the amount of time that had passed due to destruction caused by Damien.

“Shayne?” Damien whispered, pulling his head up to face Shayne once again.

“What’s up?” Shayne replied, the casualness of his response clashing with the tension the situation held.

“I-I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

Damien shook his head, running a hand over his face and through his hair. He was at a loss.

“Honestly, I-I don’t know. I just- I thought I was going crazy? I guess? I mean, heh, maybe I am. For all I know, I'm over at your house, still spending the night over, a-and I just haven’t woken up yet. This is all just a bad dream...”

Shayne chuckled, “Wasn’t the last time you slept over like a month ago? That’s a really strange time to pick.”

“Well, that was before... stuff happened.”

“Stuff? What kind of stuff?” Shayne asked, scooting closer to Damien.

“The stuff you said.”

“Well, I never really said anything.”

“But, you know what I mean...”

“Damien, is there something I should know about? Did something happen to cause this?”

“No, nothing caused this! And that’s why I feel like I’m losing it! I don’t exactly have any sort of explanation for why this is happening! I just woke up one day feeling like shit, everything was super fucking loud, and my head hurt all the time; and I kept hearing shit when nothing was being said so I was paranoid all the time and it sucks!” Damien rambled, frustration building up in his voice.

Shayne’s expression morphed into one of concern. “Dude, I had no idea! Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“B-because I thought it would go away! I thought it was only temporary!” Damien let out a shaky breath. “I sure as hell didn’t expect this to happen.”

Shayne stared at Damien and scooted closer until the two sat with their knees touching. He put his arm around Damien and pulled him into a side hug. 

“I don’t think anyone could have predicted something like this.” Shayne said, rubbing Damien’s shoulder.

“I mean, you guys would always joke that I’m psychic.” Damien laid his head on Shayne’s shoulder.

“Well, yeah. But that was only because you were good at guessing stuff.”

“Fair enough. Still kinda funny though. That y’all were right.” 

“Yeah, well, god works in mysterious ways.”

“Oh fuck off.” Damien said, poking Shayne in the side.

“Hehey! I was kidding! Stohop!” Shayne laughed, batting at Damien’s hand.

“Uh huh, suuuuuure.” Damien teased, poking Shayne a few more times before stopping.

The two sat quietly for a moment before Damien started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Shayne asked.

“It just hit me, how fucking weird this situation is.” Damien explained in between laughs. “Like, I have super powers for christ sake!” 

It didn’t take long for Shayne to join his laughter.

“Oh, man, Damien, we gotta have a super hero training montage!” 

“Oh hell yeah!”

“Like, my workout playlist already has a montage-y vibes to it!”

“Dude we have to do this!”

“Dude, can we do it after school?”

“Yes, I’m so down!”

“Hell yeah!”

The two high-fived, interlocking fingers as they brought their arms down.

“God, this is all crazy.” Damien said with a sigh.

“Yeah, but we should probably head to lunch now.” Shayne removed his arm from Damien’s shoulder and stood up.

“Oh shit, yeah.” Damien said, doing the same.

As the two walked out of the room, Damien couldn’t help but notice that Shayne still seemed somewhat off. When he tried to listen to his thoughts, he noticed how tense it felt. Like Shayne was actively trying not to think about something that was very clearly on his mind. Every few seconds, a word would slip out and it was imminently suppressed. It wouldn’t just fade away, it was like if someone was talking and a hand was put over their mouth. The more Damien tried to do it, the bigger his headache got, until he decided to just stop. Shayne probably just didn’t want Damien to know about it yet, but he would tell him eventually.

Right?

A/N: That little creeper aw man danganronpa story is based on something that actually happened to me! One of my friends called me because I was killed via ‘creeper aw man’ by our other friend in a dream he had. I thought it was funny so yeah

#smosh #smosh fic #smosh damien #damien haas #shayne topp #shaymien #My Smosh Fic #Highschool Casualties #smosh games #Courtney Miller

[main-routine]

WITH THE TAIL BETWEEN HER LEGS ep. 1-2: Ladybug

(A RWBY fanfic for big league perverts)

(AND FUTANARI FETISHISTS)

Blake Belladona was rushing in her motorcycle down the street, her punctuality was an important deal to her, and she was not gonna risk it because her boss is a bitch. Her old friends from Beacon were gathering for Yang's B-day in her favorite bar, and she had to be there for her partner's party. The black cat crossed the streets as if they were her own, ignoring the cars in her sides and dodging any traffic lights and officer she could, trying to waste the less time she could to get to the place of the party, and after 20 minutes of races, she stopped at the parking lot of a western themed place. 

As she turned off the black sport bike, she got off her famous ass, and walked to the gatekeeper, pulling a yellow card with a flaming heart as it's logo from a little white purse. "Xiao Long invited me" said Blake at the same time she showed the card to the 6'11" monster blocking the access. "Huh?, Oh so you are the one who was missing, kitty?" answered the man after opening the door and crossing her name from that night's guest list. "Thanks Bruno, I'll bring you some cake later" replied the Belladona, as she passed the door and squeezed in the crowd. The cat eared lady was waved from a private table in the second floor, almost isolated from the noise of the dance floor and the counter. Jaune opened the chain to the stairway and thanked Blake for coming: "Thanks Monty you're here! Yang and Nora has been making me drink all this time, and I don't think I could have any more whisky without vomiting" said the blondie at the same time he went up to the stairs. 

"Kitty cat!" Yelled Yang, as she hugged both of her friends, "You and I need to empty another bottle of scotch, Arc… And you Bellabooty: You are gonna show me how good you look on the dance floor or I'm gonna get mad for coming late" claimed Yang as she pulled them towards the private lounge tugging from their coats. As the bottles ran empty and the hours passed the group of eight reduced at each of them went drunk or home. First Jaune and Pyrrha, later Weiss, and lastly Ren carrying a heavily drunk Nora. When the clock reached the 2AM. Blake called a Taxi for Yang and Ruby who were almost too drunk to protest against the measure.

As she helped the staff clean the mess of 5 hours of Nora and Yang she passed to the couch were a drunk Ruby was cuddling. 

[Turning_Point]

For the cat, The silver eyed girl was a perfect prey: her mini skirt, loosened because the hours of dancing revealed a tight red thong with black details. Her feet, usually covered by stockings and boots were naked now, trying to rest from the painful heels which the redhead never used. Her gentle chest, even if never as big as her sister's was tightly wrapped in a white corset, pushing her breasts up, and making them look seductive for the black cat. Blake unable to restrain herself, kissed the cheek of Ruby, making the drunk but sleep redhead wake up and hug Blake "Blake? Give me a kiss, please?" Asked the naive Ruby tugging from the coat's flaps the black haired woman and making her fall over her. "Jeez, Ruby, you look insatiable" said Blake before coiling her tongue with Ruby's in the bold style of the Belladona: bravely, passionately, and with a string joining the pair's mouths after they finished. Doing so, revealed a tightness inside Blake's shorts, a tightness never supposed to rise with a friend she never thought she would lay her hands off.

Regretting what she did, Blake ran to the bathrooms and shutted herself inside the toilets.

Blake ripped off her bursting white shorts and threw them in the floor, showing a throbbing dick who was demanding for attention. Attention only Blake could give with her right hand while thinking of the pink lips of the redhead: first spitting on the head of his cock, following by gentle strokes with her hand, distributing the spit of hers and Ruby around all the length of the shaft. The head, feeling the movements of her hand, answered the letting with shivers of pleasure in her hips, and releasing also wet fluids from her pussy dripping in her thighs. With every stroke, the girl pant and shivered, slowly raising the speed until she wanked her meat with mad speed, as she edged in the verge of climax, she heard a worrying call from outside her door: *Knock**Knock**Knock* "Blake? Are you ok?" asked Ruby, making the Cat Futanari drip a drop of her white cream over the sink. Without a warning, the redhead, entered the bathroom with fizzing eyes and barefooted, only to watch the throbbing dick of what she thought was her old classmate...

[End of chapter 1]

Before the surprised girl, could scream in fear, Blake kissed her again, with more time, with less love,but for time and technique enough to compensate for the rude act. "It is not what you think Ruby, I was… always like this, it's just that I forgot to behave myself, and your lips were just too much for me to handle and…" tried to apologize the cat eared futa, only to make Ruby interrupt her with another kiss and a gentle stroke around her breasts: "I'm not scared of you, I was only surprised of your… 'size' " said the redhead as she changed her hands from the cat's breasts to her throbbing rod. "I caused this to you?" asked the naive girl towards Blake as she held with both hands the still boiling meat of her. Blake nodded at the same time she bit her fingers, trying to hold her load time enough to either die of embarrassment or calm her male instincts.

"Then, I should take responsibility for my own mess" replied Ruby as she got on her knees, kissed the crown of Blake's dick and started licking the head of it, making circles around the glans as she looked straight to the eyes of her partner's pain filled face. Then she opened her hot mouth and shoved the dick in front of her to the back of her throat, making the knees of the Cat weak, and getting the cock even deeper inside the redhead's mouth.

"Don't worry *hic* Blakey! I will relieve you of this in ten moves or less!" condemned Ruby to Blake as she pulled out her head and slapped her meat in her blushed cheek:

She ran her tongue from the top of Blake's pussy lips to the back of her cock's head.

"Ruby!..

She licked the neglected dick cheese, running the same tongue that tasted her pussy juice inside the corners of her glans and urethra.

...please...

As she returned the scout to her mouth she gently kiss the urethra of the Futanari.

...this is no good...

Opening slowly, she gave the catgirl's dick a small taste, slurping the head of her 8 inches long cock. Ruining the redhead's pink gloss lipstick and smearing it over her shaft as she closed again.

...Oh Gods!...

Repeating the motion, Ruby shoved again the giant thing inside her cheeks, trying to suppress any instincts that said her to bite it, making it go half the way inside until the petite girl gagged the meat rod once more.

...I...hate...yo…

Blake answered the harassment, grabbing the head of her former captain and sticking her boiling meat again against the will of the redhead, smearing the thing inside the mouth as the girl dripped spit and precum from her lips to her chest

...C-cu-Cumming!"

Blake's cock hardened itself inside the mouth of Ruby, opening the flow of hard boiling white fluid inside the throat of the girl, stiffening her legs as Ruby grabbed the Belladona's ass and pulled it towards her face; preventing the retreat of her coward friend as she swallowed anything the cat spitted at her. As the climaxed cat panted in pleasure, Ruby stood up and walked with an arrogant smirk towards the toilet stall. The redhead entered and started stripping her lower half, showing her fit rear as she put her hands in the top of the toilet and opened her legs."Nine moves Blake, you need to make the 10th" challenged Ruby.

Blake loosened up her legs, recovering from the climax she just released, falling to her knees, and drooling on the floor. Her chest beat at 100 MPH, her lust was winning over her common sense, her dick over brain, and of course her own body heat over the clothes. She took off her white coat, pulled her violet scarf and tore her black blouse, leaving only the black torn stockings she had under the white shorts. Only after that, she stood up again and ran towards the horny redhead.

Belladona stood over Rose, kissing her at the same time she untied her white corset, her new erection throbbed against the inner lips of her leader, trying to enter as it pushed forward without any success. Ruby, without breaking her standing doggy style pose, answered Blake's kiss, coiling her tongue with hers and pushing her hips with her own and making her rod slip down instead of sliding inside. When Blake finally took the white thing out of Ruby, she pinched the redhead's nipples, "Brats like you deserve punishment, Ruby" said the catgirl answering the girl's challenge as she broke the kiss, and locked her arms behind her back.

Ruby, without notice felt her little pussy being forced open by the head of the Belladona's cock, swallowing in intoxicating pleasure every inch of the shaft and releasing love juice in gratefulness, as the cat pulled back her cock, charging another ram at the back of her redhead partner's cervix, and slamming her meat against it. For over 15 minutes, Blake repeated the motion until a yellowish liquid started dripping from Ruby's thigh, exposing the pleasured status of her former leader, making her smirk and replying "thank the gods we were here in the bathrooms instead of my bed, I would have spanked your cheeky ass red as your cape, if you had soiled them" taunted the Bellabooty as she stroked the redhead's clit with one hand and carressed her throat with the other.

"That doesn't need to stop you" replied Ruby, at the same time she slammed her butt with Blake's hips, accelerating the rhythm to the pace of each slap, and as promised by the Belladona It wasn't until her ass was red as roses and the pace was enough for the two of them, that the Belladona stopped, hugging the redhead's waist as she poured her cream in the deepest of Ruby's womb. Ruby's legs trembled in extasis, as the white fluid invaded her deepest corners, and fell apart when the meat rod left her hot vagina, making the excess fluid drip into the bathrooms' floor.

Blake left the petite girl panting, almost knocked out by the orgasm, whispering in her ear "I'll go out and get your sister a taxi, wait here and we will continue this at my place, ok?"

#rwby #rwby smut #ladybug rwby #ruby rose #blake bellodona

[timeaftertime-chriscornellfanfic]

Chapter 24 - Realize, Sweet Babe, We Ain’t Never Gonna Part

Seattle Washington, April 9 1990

(Andi is 20, Chris is 25)

ANDI: I wake to the bright July sun as it pours through the tall window of our bedroom. I open one eye and lift my head glancing at the clock to see that it was only 7:30am. Why does it have to be so bright so early in the morning? I groan and smush my face back into the pillow, my curls covering whatever the pillow wasn't and hear the bedroom door slowly open. I can hear Chris enter the room as the old hardwood floor slightly creaks. I keep my eyes closed, attempting to fall back to sleep but I feel him climb up on to the edge of the bed, playfully pulling the black sheet down over my body, revealing my black lacy panties.

"You awake beautiful?" He asks, his voice raspy from his performance at The Moore Theatre last night. It was his first gig since the European tour and it was fucking amazing. The only thing is that he and Jason were fighting the entire time, and Jason fucked up a few times but other than that, Chris was just 'on ' you know?

I let out a muffled groan as he moves over top of me, his rough fingers brushing across my back, moving my curls out of the way and places his lips between my shoulder blades, his morning stubble prickling me .

"No, I'm not awake... so sleepy," I say into the pillow and I hear him chuckle as he places sweet kisses up to the back of my neck.

"Well I hope this will wake you up," He says in my ear and as I turn to look up at him, pushing my mess of curls out of my eyes, I see him holding a small simple diamond ring between his fingers.

"Chris?" I say, my voice still full of sleep. I sit myself up, using the pillow to shield my bare chest as he holds the ring out to me kneeling in just his blue plaid boxer shorts, his curls messy from sleeping, falling across his gorgeous blue eyes.

"I know it's not much... it's pretty much all I can afford right now but... If you're going to be my wife, you need a ring so... " He trails off as he looks down at the ring and then looks back at me.

We still haven't told anyone that we're engaged because he wanted to keep it a secret. I think I know why he did now that he is holding this beautiful ring out to me.

"You still wanna marry me right?" He asks raising his eyebrow at me.

"Yes, Chris," I laugh. I hold my hand out to him with an excited smile on my face and he slips the ring on my finger. I then move the pillow from my chest and practically fall into his arms, threading my fingers through his curls and pressing my lips to his. He chuckles against my lips but then deepens the kiss as I flip him over so that I'm on top of him.

"Good, Now I can go pee," I giggle as I pull away from his lips and push myself away from him as he gives me a bewildered look.

"Hey, wait a minute, " Chris laughs reaching out for me as I quickly climb out of bed laughing, my curls falling across my face.

"I'll only be a sec - "I giggle as I make my way to the bedroom doorway but without warning, I am instantly slipped into another time and place once again.

*****

CHRIS: "Babe?" I call out as I see Andi disappear before my eyes, the diamond ring bouncing on the hardwood floor making a high pitched dinging sound before landing on the lace of her black panties. I sit up and run my fingers through my roots saddened and worried about where and when she has slipped to this time. I know I always say this but I will never get used to this happening. I just hope she comes back to me soon.

I let out a long sigh and slowly climb out of bed, walking over to where the ring was laying on the floor and shining so brightly. It didn't even occur to me that she wouldn't be able to wear it without possibly losing it if she happened to slip at some point - which is exactly what happened. I pick it up from the floor and walk over to her dresser that sat beside the full length mirror, placing her ring on top.

"Oh baby... whenever you are... I hope you're ok,"

*****

Houston Texas, July 20 1994

(Andi is 20 and 24, Chris is 30)

ANDI: "No.. no, no, no..." I say as I find myself on a cold tile floor of a bathroom trying to sit myself up and figure out just where I am. I have no idea where or when I am but I'm guessing it's in the future, since the air feels a little different. I definitely do not recognize anything about this bathroom. It's small and very white with only a shower stall, the sink vanity displaying a bunch of different miniature shampoos and lotions and white bath towels hanging off the rack with a logo imprinted down at the bottom.

"Holiday Inn?" I say and realize that I'm in a hotel bathroom.

I gather myself up, hanging on to the sink vanity to steady myself , grab one of the towels from the rack and wrap myself in it just in case there was anyone in the room. I push my curls from my eyes and open the bathroom door. I then slowly peak my head out into the room and see that there is no one here but I do see a couple of luggage bags beside the Queen size bed. I also see 2 guitar cases sitting beside the luggage bags and I somehow recognize the one that has an Aerosmith patch and a Black Sabbath patch on it, along with a bunch of other bands - a lot of them I haven't ever heard of. The Aerosmith patch is in exactly the same spot where I sewed mine on to just yesterday before Chris's concert.

I take one more look around making sure no one is here and step further into the room over towards the guitar cases and pull the zipper down revealing my '90 silver sparkle Gretsch Duo Jet with the leather guitar strap that Andy got me for my birthday.

"Ok... this is my room?" I say somewhat confused and unzip the second guitar case revealing a Cherry Burst Gibson with a Soundgarden decal sticker just below the pick guard. "...our room I mean?" I chuckle and I suddenly hear someone outside the hotel room door. I quickly zip up the guitar cases and run back into the bathroom just as the hotel room door opened.

"Babe is that you?" I hear Chris's voice call just as I make it back into the bathroom. My heart started to pound and I had no idea if I should answer or just stay quiet. I hear his footsteps walking up to the bathroom door and just as he opens it I jump, startled that he caught me in here, though it wasn't like I was desperately trying to hide myself since I really don't know where or when I am.

"How did you get back here so fast?" He laughs as his blue eyes glance at me up and down, wearing a white loosely fitted tank top and black baggy shorts with his Doc Martins .

"I uh... um... well..." I stutter as I am unable to take my eyes off of how different he looks. He cut his hair. He has it kind of messy curly but it's so short. He also grew a beard. He looks so different that I have no idea what to say

"Oh I get it... is this like, part of my birthday present?" He raises his eyebrow and smirks.

Birthday...ok... so at least I know it's July 20th... just wish I knew the year though.

"Um... yea, yea it... is," I try to sound convincing but I honestly have no idea what I'm doing. I place my hand over my chest holding up the towel as he steps towards me. I give him a half smile as he leans down to me, placing his lips on mine.

His lips feel incredible as he cups my face in his palms, deepening the kiss, as his tongue plays with mine. I suck his bottom lip like I always do, completely caught up in the moment and he pulls away touching his forehead to mine. He then attempts to take the towel from me and as he glances down to take my hand that was holding up the towel, his expression changes to confusion.

"You're time slipping aren't you?" He asks, his eyes looking into mine.

"Um... yea" I say sheepishly and suddenly the hotel door opens.

"Chris, are you here?" I hear my own voice calling out as Chris's eyes grow wide with panic.

"Chris?"

I then see myself appear at the bathroom door and though this has happened only a handful of times before, it's still disorienting to see yourself in two places at once. Chris turns from me to see the other me standing in the doorway and then glances back at me and I can tell the wheels are spinning in his head.

"Well um... this is..." Chris starts and I just give him a little smile. I glance at the other me and see that I look pretty much exactly the same. My long dark curls well passed my shoulders, wearing a pair of high waisted ripped black leggings, my Doc Martens and a band shirt that was cut up into a crop shirt, showing just a little bit of my stomach - which doesn't seem like me at all - and had the name of Pantera across the front in white blocked writing.

"Andi?" The other me says and I nod, still feeling awkward that I'm standing in a towel. She then walks over to me placing her hands on either side of my arms and gives me a warm smile, then pulls me in to hug her. Once again it was that moment where my future self and my present self immediately gain the memory of this, as if it was there all along.

"So um... is it considered cheating if I was just about to have my way with you in the shower?" Chris says and we both laugh.

"Ok that's just way too weird to hear you laugh at the same time in the same way," Chris says as we continue to giggle and he walks out of the bathroom.

"You think he would be used to this kinda thing," I say and the other me laughs.

"C'mon, you honestly think that?" She giggles.

"No," I say and she smiles at me.

"C'mon... I'll get you some clothes," She walks towards the bathroom door and I follow to see Chris sitting in a large reading chair across from the bed, pouring himself a shot of Jack Daniels.

"Here, these will work," She says and closes up one of the luggage bags, walking over and handing me a band shirt and ripped jeans, some panties and a pair of black and white Chuck Taylors.

"No it's ok, I'm not sure how long I'm gonna, you know... be here," I say but she still hands them to me.

"Andi it's fine, you can't sit in a towel the whole time," She smiles and she's right. I take them from her and glance at Chris as he downs the shot of Jack Daniels, he winks at me and I smirk, and head back into the bathroom to quickly change. Once I do I come back out and Chris looks back and forth at me and the other me and pours another shot.

"Damn... it's just so fucking... weird," He chuckles and downs another shot.

"Hey there birthday boy, don't drink too much yet. We still gotta get into the club," The other me giggles and Chris just shrugs.

" So um... what year am I in?" I say.

" '94" She says.

"What year are you um... slipping from?" Chris asks as he leans back in the chair.

" 1990... June 1990" I say.

"Well I must look completely different to you then," Chris chuckles.

"Not completely but, yea a little different," I smirk and he smiles at me.

"Ok I remember, oh wow this is weird, I remember you gave me that ring and like a few minutes later I slipped... remember?" The other me glances at Chris.

"Yea.. I do... I remember feeling like an idiot that I didn't think about the fact that you couldn't wear a ring because you would lose it," Chris says pouring another shot.

"Wait... are we married?" I ask glancing between the other me and Chris.

"Uh huh... since September 1990," She smiles at me.

"Don't... tell me anymore... I - "

"Wanna be surprised?" She finishes my sentence.

"Yea," I smile.

"Well the only thing I'll tell you is don't be so nervous when you step into the tattoo studio. I really would hate to have the whole time slipping experience happen again in the middle of it," She giggles.

"What?" I ask confused. She then holds up her left hand and points to her ring finger - my ring finger - and I see a tattoo where a wedding band should be. I take her hand and look at the design, then look back at her.

"It's the only thing that I could do, so that I could keep him with me no matter what," She says her eyes welling up just a little bit. Just as I was about to hug her again - cause I can't stand seeing myself cry - I hear the extremely loud ringing in my ears again and I stubble backwards.

"Shit, baby?" Chris says as he leaps up off the chair to catch me.

"I'm sorry... I - I'm... I-" I stutter and begin to feel myself fade.

"It's ok baby," His voice sounding like a faint distant memory as I find myself back in our bedroom, on the bedroom floor trying to catch my breath.

*****

Seattle Washington, June 5 1990

(Andi is 20, Chris is 25)

ANDI: "Baby, holy shit... that was fast. Are you ok?" I hear Chris's voice as he crouches down to me on the floor while I sit myself up coughing just a little.

"Yea, yea I'm ok," I cough. He then takes me in his arms and holds me like he always does and I love how he feels so warm and comforting, ready to save me every time I come back to him.

"Where did you go?" He asks as I rest my head on his bare chest.

"I went ahead this time... um... 1994" I say in between my breaths.

"Holy shit," He says, his voice vibrating through his chest.

"Yea, holy shit," I giggle.

"Is everything ok?" He asks and places his lips on top of my head. I then lift myself away from him looking into his eyes as he brushes a few curls out of mine.

"Everything is fine. I um... I have an idea on an engagement ring that I won't lose, you know just in case I slip again," I say and he raises his eyebrow at me.

"Oh yea? What's that?" He chuckles.

"How do you feel about tattoos?"

#Time After Time #time travel #chris cornell #chris cornell fanfiction #soundgarden #soundgarden fanfiction #alternate universe #also on ao3 #also on wattpad

[batskulldrag]

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

Here’s chapter Two

Trigger warnings for abuse, this story has a lot of abuse mentions in it. 

Chapter Two: Let It Burn by RED      

               The trio watched in stunned silence as Payton argued with the receptionist over something and stormed past her. Just to look at him or be near him made their collective blood run cold. Something came off him, something untrustworthy. This was a man who could bend and break people, and he used to practice on them.

               He moved past them without so much as a glance in their direction. Good. And stormed directly towards a single room. A doctor took everyone by surprise and blocked his path.

               The doctor in question was a tiny morsel of a person with bright red hair and glasses that framed their face. That this of anyone would stand up to the literal worst was amazing.

               “I’m sorry, but no one in allowed in this room right now.” The doctor said, all five feet of them standing confidently.

               “I’ll have you know that my son is in that room! And you have no right to forbid me to see him!” Payton seethed.

               “Your son,” The doctor spat the words back at him. “Has been sedated and is now sleeping. And I have every right to keep you from charging in there and waking him up!”

               “I could sue you for malpractice as easy as I could snap my fingers!”

               “Oh, on what grounds?” They mocked in return.

               “Operating on a minor without parental consent! And denying access to the legal guardian.”

               “We did no such thing. And all I asked was that you don’t charge in there and wake up a child who had just been through considerable trauma.”

               “Do you have any idea who I am in this city?” He hissed.

               “I don’t care if you’re Jesus, you stay out here until the doctor decides that our patient is ok to have visitors.”                

               “Let me through or I will have no choice but to report your insubordination to an actual doctor!” Many people looked over at him as he yelled.

               “You think you can get up in my face ‘cause I’m TINY?!” The doctor snapped right back at him, not moving an inch. “Because if I call security right now only one of us is getting thrown out for causing a disturbance! I’ll let you guess who!”

               “You- you should be arrested for impersonating a doctor!” He fumbled the insult as he backed down.

               Roman walked up to the doctor as if he were in a western.

               “Is this guy giving you trouble?”

               “No, I took care of him.” The doctor said smugly.

               “It seems like you’re suddenly everywhere, Roman.” Payton sneered.

               “And it seems you weren’t home when I pulled your son from a burning building.”

               “Well if you were so conveniently there, I think that would make you a suspect.”

               A tired, disgruntled police officer came between them. Roman knew them.

               “So, you’re the kid’s dad?” The cop, Officer Joan asked.

               “I am, and it was my house that’s been burnt to ashes.” He rubbed his temples. “I feel like the world is testing me.”

               “Where were you at the time of the fire?” Joan didn’t care about his problems.

               “I was meeting with my campaign manager from ten o clock until twenty minutes ago, when I was called and told that my son was in the hospital.”

               “Can they verify that?”

               “Am I a suspect in this? Why would I destroy my own home, or endanger my son?”

               “I have to ask everybody these questions, I asked crazy twin guy the same things.” Joan rolled their eyes, pointing backwards at Roman. “Do you have any enemies?”

               “Yes, and more keep coming out of the woodwork.” He shot a glare at Roman. “I’m a very successful prosecuting attorney, I’ve put plenty of criminals in prison and angered even more defense lawyers. I’m also running for mayor, on the platform of clearing the city of immorality, which gives my opponents a motive. And my brother and his friends have started a smear campaign against me. Which I suppose makes them suspect, especially when you consider who was at the scene of the crime first.”

               “Crazy twin guy has an alibi that can be verified by about two hundred people. Save your bullshit for your day job.” Joan made a few notes. “If you don’t mind, I’d like for you to accompany me to the station so I can ask you a few more questions.”

               “About what? You can’t honestly believe I started that fire!”

               “No, this is about a few things we found odd about your house layout and son’s condition.”

               “I beg your pardon!” He said through gritted teeth.

               “That’s what you say to a judge, not a cop. You gonna come quietly or do I need to put the cuffs on you?”

               “What has Virgil been saying!? I demand to speak to him immediately!”

               “He’s been passed out for the past hour. And he was barely conscious when he got here.” The doctor chimed in. “He hasn’t said anything. Why? What were you expecting him to say?”

               “I invoke my right to speak to my accuser.” Payton hissed, rapidly losing control of the entire situation.

               “Me bitch.” Joan said, pulling out handcuffs. “Let’s talk in the car.”

               “Payton Foster, I’m arresting under suspicion of domestic abuse, child endangerment, disturbing the peace and arson.” Joan slapped the cuffs on. “You have the right to remain silent…”

               The sound of Joan reciting the Miranda bill faded as the two walked down the hallway and outside.

               “Doctor,” Patton asked timidly raising a hand. “Can you point me to the bathroom? I think I need to throw up.”

               “Right down that way.” They pointed.

               Patton darted off and only just made it to the toilet before everything came out. Had Payton really… could he? Sure, supposedly anyone could but, how could they?

                                                                               #             #             #

               So many memories of Payton just walking out and leaving him or their mother with the baby. Because he knew they weren’t going to leave a newborn to fend for himself. He never once thought to test of Payton would still walk out if he refused. But part of him always knew the answer.

               A tornado of his brother’s cruelty hit him upside the head with a tree.

               “Another ‘D’?” The taunting voice of his sibling echoed through. “Why do you even try? You should just quit school and see if someone will hire you as a janitor.”

               “If only we still had a class system so that people of your skill level could still find work.”

               “The only good thing about you being gay is that you won’t be able to have kids to raise to be gay.”

               “Your retard called, he realized he was too good for you after all.”

               “Patton does that retard know you were held back. That you literally couldn’t keep up with things the rest of us find easy?”

               “If you ask me, the retard’s parents had the right ideas.”

               And the ever present “What are you going to do cry about it?”

               And a lifetime later, alone in a bathroom stall Patton cried about it. After some time, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t need to turn around or say anything to know that it was Logan. Wordlessly he slid his own hand on to his husband’s and squeezed it as if it were the only thing tethering him to reality.

               “Child protective services just came in.” Logan said trying to mimic a soothing tone. “They’re going to be looking for next of kin, I think we should talk to them.”

               “Is this my fault?” The words came out barely audible.

               “No. It’s not.”

               “Maybe, but I didn’t help. I may have made things worse.”

               “Patton,” Logan stooped down to his level. “It doesn’t make sense to dwell on that. We’re here and we can’t change anything. The important thing is that Virgil is safe tonight, and his father may end up losing custody of him.”

               “To who? What if it’s someone worse?”

               “That’s why we’re talking to CPS right now. Come on.”

               Patton pulled himself together and joined Logan back in the land of the standing. He stopped to splash some water in his face so it wouldn’t look like he had been crying and the pair went out together.

               The social worker was a short man who was composed mainly of muscle. He looked like he could punch a hole in the wall, granted the hole wouldn’t be very close to the ceiling, but still. Patton couldn’t say anything about what this guy would do, but he was certain that this one could tackle somebody to the ground. But he had a kind face, and Patton could read him from across the room. He looked so sad as he listened to the doctor tell him about the case. And just a bit angry.

               “Boy am I glad he’s not mad at us.” Patton whispered to Logan as they got closer.

               Cobra Bubbles sighed and rubbed his face with both hands as if he were trying to wash the information off. They stopped in front of him and he looked them over.

               “I’m Patton Foster.” Patton held his hand out uncomfortably while trying to pull his hoodie down over his sleep shorts. “I normally wear pants I swear.”

               It wasn’t until this moment that he realized that he was criminally underdressed for any kind of interview. He wished hell would go ahead and eat him as he stood there in just his cat hoodie, with no shirt, and Blue’s Clues shorts (normally made for women, but he got an extra-large pair) that were just barely longer than his boxers, which he just realized were inside out. He looked at his feet to escape eye contact and saw that he was wearing one shoe and one sandal. Never mind hell eating him, he was already there.

               Logan didn’t look any better, sure he was wearing longer pants but they were white with unicorn print. And you could totally see his underwear through them. He had tried to cover that by dawning a long coat, but that just made him look like a school shooter. And the coat was unbuttoned anyway. Patton dared a glance at Logan’s feet and saw that he had his unicorn slippers on instead of shoes. But the worst part, oh the worst part was that Logan wore a powder blue t-shirt that had “Paw-ton” written in block letters across the chest with a big old heart. It was Patton’s shirt, and now everyone knew it was his shirt. And they knew what it implied, Logan wearing Patton’s shirt.

               Their eyes met in a glance of mutual horror as Logan pulled his coat closed with inhuman speed. They shared the same hope that maybe no one saw. Patton quickly sniffed the air, he couldn’t smell anything coming off them, maybe they were in the clear, at least in that instance.

               “It’s one in the morning.” The social worked cracked a smile. “I didn’t think you’d look presentable just now.” He shook Patton’s hand. “I’m Thomas.”

               “Oh, ok.” Patton retracted his other hand and kept trying to pull his hoodie down. “I’m Virgil’s uncle. Payton is my older brother.”

               “Why are you both down here? We haven’t even started calling the next of kin yet.”

               “Our friend broke his arm getting Virgil out of the fire. He called us to get him.”

               “Hi.” Roman waved his cast.

               “Hi.” Thomas nodded.

               “I’m Logan Berry,” Logan stepped up. “I’m Patton’s husband.”    

               “So, I take it that you two are ok with taking care of Virgil?” Thomas said, shaking Logan’s hand. “At least until we hunt down his mother.”

               “She immigrated to Italy after Virgil was born.” Patton stared at the floor. “I-if she wants custody of him, I won’t keep him from her. But I don’t know if she does.”

               “Poor kid.” Thomas looked back to the room. “Well, his mom still has parental rights, so we need to talk to her. But if she left the country and left her baby behind, I’ve got a pretty good guess on how that’s gonna go.”

               “Then it comes back to us.” Logan finished the idea. “And we’d be glad to take him.”

               “Yeah, and we’re all teachers. So, we’re great with kids.” Patton added.

               “It’s nice to finally hear some good news.” Thomas sighed. “Virgil’s not allowed any visitors tonight, so you can go. Come back in the morning and we’ll get everything sorted.”

               “Ok, I’ll be back in the morning.” Patton agreed. “I’ll be here with pants on.”

               His attempt at a joke seemed to fall flat, but Thomas gave him a good-natured smile. Patton and Logan backed away awkwardly before turning around and walking like normal people. Roman joined them and they all got into the car in silence. As soon as the doors were closed, Roman broke the silence by laughing.

               “What’s so funny?” Logan asked tonelessly from the front seat.

               “You two and the social worker.” He choked. “And dressed like that!”

               “We came down here at one A.M to get you from the emergency room.” Logan protested. “We were in a hurry!”

               “It would have been weird if we were dressed!” Patton added. “This actually proves that we’d be good parents, because our priorities are in order! When you get called from the emergency room you throw clothes on in the dark and come down!”

               “Must have been a good night if you didn’t have clothes on when I called.” Roman snickered.

               “FALSEHOOD!!!!!!!” Logan screeched, his entire body turning red.

               “I meant to say shoes! You throw shoes on in the dark! Because you already have clothes on!” Patton fumbled an explanation.

               “So, Logan has a shirt with your name on it because he belongs to you?” Roman teased.

               “You noticed?” Patton whimpered, turning red as well. “Do you think the social worker noticed too?”

               “Ok. No one is allowed to talk until the sun is up.” Logan ordered.

               When the sun did come up, and it came up rather soon especially for a Saturday, the three had other things to talk about anyway.

               “Ok, Patton and I are in one room, and you occupy one room.” Logan began.

               “I knew that SIRI.” Roman sighed. “What are you getting at?”

               “Well, there’s still Remus’s old room, Virgil can stay in there.”

               “We turned that room into a storage closet after Remus went to grad school.” Roman groaned. “I suppose I’ll start moving boxes.”

               “I believe that I’ll be doing most of the moving today, given your injury.”

               “I can still move things!” Roman protested.

               “No.”

               “Can I help arrange the stuff in the attic? That just requires me to slid stuff across the floor.”

               “I will allow that. And we may find something in storage that we can use.”

               “Kill two birds with one stone.” Roman nodded.

               “That’s cruel and has nothing to do with-… oh. Right, a metaphor.”  

                                                                               #             #             #

               Patton walked timidly into the hospital whishing he had stayed behind to get the room ready and sent Logan to deal with the paperwork. But as the legal next of kin, he had to be the one to sign everything. He wondered if he might get to meet Virgil while he was there. But what if Virgil didn’t like him?

               “I see you’re alone this morning.” Thomas startled him. “But at least you remembered your pants.”

               “Logan and Roman are getting the house ready.” Patton said quickly. Why did he feel so guilty, he hadn’t done anything? “They’re clearing out a room and all that stuff.”

               “You seem to be adapting to all this pretty well.” Thomas smiled warmly.

               “I guess, but we haven’t done any of the actual parenting.”

               “What, are you worried about what you’ll do if he comes out as straight?” Thomas joked. “You won’t have time to mess up, you’ll have me breathing down your necks.”

               Patton smiled back, temporarily relieved. At least this guy was friendly, he couldn’t handle a jaded, world weary social worker.

               “Let’s go over the paperwork and the background checks and afterwards we’ll see if the doctors will let him have visitors.” Thomas offered.

               Patton nodded and followed him to administration.

                                                                               #             #             #

               Logan finished organizing the attic and walked down the stairs only to meet Roman in the middle, dragging up a large wooden object. He used one hand and his elbow to grip it. Tell Roman he can’t do one thing and that’s all he wants to do.

               “What is that?” Logan pointed stunned. “And I told you not to lift things!”

               “A portion of my own bed from when I was in my teens. I got it from my parents’ attic. Now move, this thing is heavy.” Roman disregarded him.  

               Logan ran up the stairs, propped the emptied room’s door open and ran down to help Roman with the rest of the bed frame. After three trips, and a good deal of swearing they got all of it into the room. It was then that the truth about this bed came out.

               “Roman, this is the skeleton of a futon isn’t it?” Logan asked, ready to face palm.

               “Remus set my actual bed on fire! This was all they could do! And he set this one on fire as well!”

               “So. There’s no mattress either?” Logan completed the face palm.

               “No.” Roman looked at the ground.

               “Ok, this will have to do until we get him a proper bed, and we will get him a proper bed.” Logan sighed. “Let’s just put it together, where are the instructions?”

               “In the past, no one has seen them in over a decade.” Roman answered hesitantly. “But I helped put it together, I should be able to manage it.”

#             #             #

               Logan felt a migraine setting in and Roman had exhausted his vocabulary of insults from screaming at the futon. An hour had passed, Patton would be home any minute to see what a pair of failures they were. He was at his breaking point.

               “Of course!” Roman yelled triumphantly. “We can google futons like this one and use their instructions.”

               “Why didn’t we think of that an hour ago?” Logan said in a strained whisper.

               After that putting it together only took twenty minutes. This only added to their fury.

               “Ok,” Logan sighed. “I’m going to go scream into a pillow, then we’re going to get a mattress for this monstrosity.”

               “I’ve been thinking about that. We could get a normal mattress and put it on this, so then it’ll just be a normal bed.”

               “Roman, you’re a genius.”

               “Wow, you are out of it.”

                                                                                               #             #             #  

               The paperwork took longer than Patton had thought it would, and the background check took forever. Which was especially annoying because he didn’t have any criminal record. But all that was finally over, he was now prolonging the inevitable as one of the doctors explained everything that was wrong with Virgil.

               “So, Virgil is a good deal underweight and he currently has strep throat. And according to his records, he’s been sick a lot both this year and last year. And there were more than a few injuries. We haven’t had anyone analyze him yet, but we suspect that he has severe anxiety.”

               “Ok.” Patton nodded.

               I hate my brother.

               “He has a few burns from last night, mostly on the palms of his hands and the bottom of his feet. He inhaled a good deal of smoke, but there doesn’t seem to be any damage to his lungs. He also got a few scrapes and bruises from falling off the landing, and he broke his foot when he hit the ground.”    

               “Poor baby.” Patton exclaimed automatically.

               “And the last thing is,” The doctor sighed. “He has a few older bruises on his back, torso, arms and legs. They all seem to very in age.”

               Payton if you don’t go to hell, I will petition all the saints to send you there!

               “Is-is that why you suspected Payton of… of hurting him?”

               “Yes.” They sighed as if the weight of the world was on top of them. “One of the bruises is in the perfect shape of a belt buckle. There’s no explanation for that.”  

               Patton felt his heart racing, and everything turned red. All he could think of was the innocent little baby that he and his mother had taken care of because Payton wasn’t going to. It didn’t look like they were living in a kind universe, but he really hoped it was a just one.

                                                                               #             #             #

               Roman and Logan pulled into the driveway with a mattress strapped to the roof and an old dresser shoved into the back. The dresser had belonged to Remus, and for some reason he spray-painted it black, but that was ok. They could paint over that. At least it didn’t have any bodily fluids on it. Hopefully.

               Roman jumped out and ran to open the door, only to trip on a medium sized box someone had left there. There was a note on the obstruction.

               Crazy twin guy, dude’s going to jail for a while. Cleaned my closet out last month and was too lazy to get rid of this stuff. It’s your problem now. -Joan.

               “We have a benefactor Logan!” Roman said happily. “Officer Joan has given us some old clothes and a message of encouragement.”

               “What encouragement?” Logan asked, untying one of the ropes.

               “Dude’s going to jail for a while.” Roman recited as if it were Shakespeare.

               “That is good news.” Logan smiled. “Should we bring up the mattress first or the dresser?”

               “Mattress, it should be easier. And there is not a doubt in my mind that my brother put his penis on that dresser at some point.”

               “Sometimes I really feel like Remus needs to be sedated and institutionalized.”

               They both pulled down the mattress and hauled it inside.

               “I can’t believe we’re supposed to be identical twins. That means we have one hundred percent the same DNA! How does that make sense?”

               “Only one of you got brain damage.” Logan shrugged. “Besides, Patton’s brother turned out to be a narcissist, do you know how rare that is?”

               They fought the mattress up the stairs.

               “Sure, but it’s not like everyone in Florida is one, just Payton. Seems pretty rare to me.”

               With that they threw the mattress onto the frame.

               “There.” Logan said proudly, “A bed and Payton’s old desk, now all we need to do is haul up that dresser.”

               “Let’s just get that over with.” Roman sighed.

               The two drudged down the stairs and found one of their neighbors standing in the driveway. This one was a particularly annoying middle-aged woman. Single and childless, yet somehow a self-proclaimed expert on both relationships and child rearing. Logan turned right back around and went back inside when he saw her. Roman reluctantly went up to talk to her, it was the only way to make her leave.

               “Can I help you?” He asked flatly, hoping he couldn’t.

               “What are you three doing? I heard you leave at one in the morning last night, and now you’re going back and forth bringing furniture into the house. Are you getting another roommate?”

               “Yes.” A satisfactory lie of omission.

               “Where’s Patton? I saw him leave this morning, and he’s not back yet.”

               “He has a day job.”

               “But he’s not there, I already checked.”

               Roman rolled his eyes. Why couldn’t this one be a sweet old lady? Or I nice couple? Or a cute single guy, gay of course?

               “I don’t know then.” None of her business anyway.

               “You know what I think,”

               You forgot to ask if I cared.

               “I think it has something to do with his brother, you know the one who’s running for mayor, his house burned down last night. It was all over the news.”

               “If you don’t mind Logan and I still have a lot of work to do.”

               “Is it true what he said? You know about his and Patton’s mother?”

               “No, it is a blatant lie Patton already submitted proof of that.” Roman swung the trunk open and dragged the dresser to the door one handed. “Good day.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               Patton bit his lip as he listened to the phone ring on the other end.

               “Hello Patton,” Logan answered in his usual manor. “Is something the matter?”

               “No, I just need some advice.” Patton sighed.

               “Well, what is it?”

               “Virgil’s awake, the doctors are taking care of him now. And I get to meet him when they’re done. But should I wait and introduce us all at once or do it one at a time?”

               He was answered by a brief silence, then Roman.

               “Hey Patton,” Roman said quickly. “Logan and I are just dealing with nothing going on right now.”

               “Logan! Did you just punch me!?” Roman suddenly yelled. “You just did it again, you friggin book germ! Why are you signaling me to shut- oh.”

               “Roman?” Patton asked, now very suspicious.

               “Never mind all that. What do you need to know?”

               “Well, I’m gonna meet Virgil, but I don’t know if I should have us all meet him at once or do in in little bits.”

               “Ok, you’re already there, so I think you should just meet him as you. But you should definitely tell him that we exist.”

               “Ok.” Patton smiled for no one’s benefit. “What’s going on with you two?”

               “Nothing, good luck with the kid. Bye.”

               With that Roman hung up on him.

               “Ok, love you, bye.” Patton said to the dead phone.

               Patton returned the phone to his pocket and took a deep breath to steel himself. He glanced down at the stuffed bear he had bought from the gift shop, it had a little hive that said ‘Bee Well’ across it. That was the perfect dad joke to break the ice, and a cute animal to boot. He could do this.

               He looked through the window and saw several doctors and Thomas talking to a teenage boy. Patton paused. He didn’t recognize him. The baby face had been replaced with Payton’s jawline and Virgil had no baby fat left. In fact, he had almost no body fat at all. That can’t be good. In place of his little blond tufts of hair was long black hair, well long in the front any way. His bangs swept over his face like a curtain. The only things that were the same were his eyes. The same amazing violet eyes. Worry was reflected in them now, but they were still beautiful.

Right now, he was biting his lip and pulling his knees to his chest. Thomas said something and he started chewing on the bandages that covered his hands rather than his lip, the news was out now. Thomas sat down next to him and said something else, at that Virgil put his head on his knees and covered his head with his arms. With his messed-up hands, he fruitlessly pulled at his hair. Thomas talked to him for a minute more then walked to the door to let Patton in.

               Never mind. I can’t do this. Patton walked in quietly.

               Virgil didn’t look up.

               I can’t do this!

               “Virgil,” Thomas said trying to sound upbeat. “This is your uncle, Patton. And he’s going to be taking care of you for a while.”

               Virgil shuddered, and though he was trying to hide it he was visibly shaking.

               Ok, natural greeting. Neutral.

               “Hey kiddo.” Patton said softly.

               WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!!!

               “I know this is a lot to take in, and that you’ve been having a rough time.” Patton paused, where was he going with this? “So, uh… I’m not gonna press you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. And… I would like you to come stay with me, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

               “I mean.” Virgil finally spoke, his voice was strained. “I don’t wanna live on the street, and that’s kind of the only other option.”

               Patton walked up to the bed. He knew what to do, it was as if his instincts kicked in.

               “Can I sit down?” He asked. Pointing to a spot besides Virgil.

               “Do whatever you want.” Virgil mumbled into his blanket.

               Patton sat next to him and gingerly placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. Virgil flinched. He flinched and made a kind of whimpering sound in his throat. Patton felt a rage burn inside his chest. He feared that if he tried to talk, he would breath fire.

               “It’s ok,” He soothed. No fire, good. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

               “Isn’t that the bare minimum?”

               “I said we’d take baby steps. Nothing you’re not comfortable with.”

               “Yeah?” Virgil looked up at him, his eyes red with tears.

               “Of course.” Patton smiled reassuringly and ran a hand through his nephew’s hair.

               Virgil closed his eyes and sighed almost euphorically at the contact. Patton bit back bile at the thought that this poor, innocent kid was so completely starved for affection that he would all but melt for the first person to show him basic human kindness. If Payton didn’t go to hell…

               Virgil slid his head down and rested it on Patton’s shoulder. He had stopped shaking and was just at rest. Patton wished he had brought a camera, but he knew he’d remember this moment even without pictures. This one was going in the vault.

#logicality #parental moxiety #parental anological #platonic lamp #sanders side fic #sanders sides

[neoneversleeps]

bad guy | j.jh

pairing: jaehyun x reader - bad guy

genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings: cheating, swearing, semi-public sex, fingering, oral (female recieving)

description: 

The damn leather jacket that hangs over your desk chair is what compels you to finally come face to ace with the man whose heart you broke months ago. The outcome of the encouter however, is not what you had expected in the least. 

(this fic is kind of a twist on bad guy by billie eilish)

words: ~5k

playlist ⟡

You feel the blood trickle down your nose before you even feel the impact. It takes a few seconds to actually register that you’ve just been punched in the face. Slaps were a common occurrence but actually being punched? Now that was a new one. You had to hand it to her, she had a mean right hook.

A chuckle escapes your mouth as your hand wipes off the blood on your nose. You could hear the murmurs of shocked onlookers around you. The girl seems even more infuriated after you chuckle, face contorted in anger as she opens her mouth to scream at you.

"You slut! Making out with my boyfriend for everyone to see?

You simply roll your eyes at her. This wasn't the first time you had heard those words. You hadn't really ran any background checks on the long list of hookups you had these past couple months. You couldn't bring yourself to care much, either.

"Who do you think you are, going around kissing other girls boyfriends?"

You cock your head at her, slightly narrowing your eyes.

"Shouldn't you be asking your boyfriend why he's going around kissing girls that aren't his girlfriend?"

She pauses, suddenly at a loss for words. A few seconds later she stomps her foot, not unlike a toddler during a temper tantrum, huffs indignantly and storms off, boyfriend in tow, tail between his legs.

You decide to head to the nearest bathroom, behind the club, to inspect the damage. You catch some stares as you round the corner, the people there clearly finding your bloodstained appearance more interesting than whatever else they were talking about before. You didn't shy away from any of the glances, choosing instead to sneer back at them, which made them turn their heads away without a fault.

You near the outdoor bathroom, a small rectangular construction with only one meek bathroom stall and a poor excuse for a mirror. Closing the door behind you, you lean forward on the sink and inspect your nose. It could look worse for wear, nothing broken at least. The bad lighting and smudged mirror didn't exactly let you see the full damage, but there was no cracking and no continuous pain so that was a positive. You figure it must be just a few burst blood vessels. You splash some water on your face, cleaning off the already drying blood. You look back up at your reflection. The shirt was ruined though. Bummer, you didn’t own a lot of white shirts that you liked and unfortunately, you did actually like this one.

Slightly sighing in frustration, you leave the stall to go hail a cab, ready to head home for the night.

The door of your small city apartment clicks shut as you enter. You flick on the lights and glance around. The place was in disarray to no surprise. Every time you claimed you’d tidy the whole thing up, something more important always seemed to come up. Truthfully, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

You glance at the clock as you stroll into your kitchen. 2:39am. Perfect time for some plain old buttered toast. You hadn’t drank much, the alcohol levels in your blood probably close to zero at this point. Your stomach, however, was growling in demand for food. So you get to work, taking two slices of bread out of the freezer and placing them in your hand-me-down toaster.

After finishing your honourable 3am meal, you slowly shuffle past your bedroom door and into the adjacent bathroom. You discard your clothes, making a mental note to throw the bloodied shirt away instead of just throwing it in with the wash.

As you step under the shower, the warmth of the water envelops you. None of your neighbors in the apartment complex showered at this hour, so it was always a guarantee for hot water. You stand in the stream for a while, letting your muscles relax and letting the water wash aways all your sins, worries and fears. Of course the water couldn't actually wash those away, but you liked to believe it could linder them. Make them disappear even for a little while.

The bathroom floor tiles are cold against your feet after you finally decide you'd soaked up enough water for the night (morning, technically). You dried off your body, wrapping the towel around your figure before wrapping another one around your hair. You made use of the few skincare products you had for your nightly (again, more accurately morning) routine.

You pad out into your bedroom, removing the towel from your hair and trying to dry said hair with it as best you could. Your eyes flick to the jacket hanging on your desk chair in the corner of your still dark room, illuminated only by the path of light coming from the open bathroom door. It was an old dark brown leather jacket, surely worth a lot when first bought. The years of use have worn it at its edges but it still shines pristinely, leather well kept.

A face flashes before your eyes. The owner of that very jacket. Jung Jaehyun. The one boy who had managed to get a little too close for comfort. The thought of him leaves a bitter taste of hurt and regret in your mouth. A twinge of guilt twists your insides as well.

You had been meaning to give the jacket back to him, tired of it being a constant reminder of your past relationship. You had been saying that for months now though, yet you never got around to actually get it back to him. Coward. the voice in your head helpfully provides the real reasoning behind not returning the jacket. You would one day. In fact you would go tomorrow. Today? Ok, realistically that wouldn't happen. You settled for the coming week. The coming week  you would return Jung Jaehyun’s jacket.

Content with your decision, you change into your pyjamas and slip into bed, the clock on the nightstand reading 4am.

It’s a wednesday afternoon two weeks after the bloody nose incident that you finally walk down the street where the garage that Jaehyun works at is located. Ok so maybe you didn't quite adhere to the deadline you set for yourself, but you were here now, right?

You were slowly approaching Jaehyun’s workplace. The buzzing sounds  of various machinery filtering in through your ears. The garage always had its doors open, probably willing more wind to enter the hot work space. The afternoon sun stands proud in its place, rays casting a golden light onto the city and pleasantly warming its citizens. Even though you appreciate the balmy caress of the sunlight on your skin, you imagine being stuck working on a car in this heat would be most uncomfortable. Jaehyun never seemed to mind however, you couldn't remember him ever complaining about his job. He was good at what he did, although he did always talk about rising up in the ranks. He didn't want to work at a garage for the rest of his life, and you couldn't blame him. You were sure he would achieve his goals however. If there was one word you would use to describe Jaehyun, it was determined.

Your eyes search the area as you arrive in front of the garage. There’s a nervous feeling in your gut the longer your eyes search, the jacket in your backpack seemingly getting heavier by the second. Maybe you shouldn't have come.

You’re about to turn on your heel but before you can do so, your eyes catch sight of a brown tuft of hair behind the car on the far end. You would recognize that soft brown hair anywhere.

Your feet stroll over to the car furthest away from you. A red 1966 shelby. Nice model, a vintage mustang, the apparently freshly redone paint-job glistening in the afternoon sun. Now, you wouldn't consider yourself a cars connoisseur by any means, but your granddad had taught you to have an eye for value.

“Beautiful car.” You say, your fingers lightly hovering above the shiny red paint, careful not to touch. The man behind the car gets up with a chuckle. “Yeah, well, she's not mine-.” A pause. “Oh, hey, y/n. What brings you here?” The tone of his voice is casual, but obviously forced. It stings just a bit. He stands there just as you remembered him. His well-built frame stands tall, defined muscles visible in the black tank top he was wearing, honey brown fringe damp from the sweat falling just below his eyebrows. His hair had grown a little since you last saw him.

“Oh, you know. Just passing through this area and thought I might stop by. Maybe looking to buy some car air fresheners.” His face tilts, eyes narrowingly only a millimeter. “Uh huh. You don't own a car though?”

Shit. “Right well… it's for a friend. Her car always smells musty.” You recovered rather well in your defense, able to play it off with a chuckle.

“Um, okay. Is that really all? Because if yes I should get back to work before-” “No!” Okay, that was way too quick, you mentally reprimand yourself. Clearing your throat, you continue.

“No, actually, that's not all. I was wondering… if maybe you would like to go get a drink sometime?” What!? What the hell was that? You were supposed to give him his leather jacket back, not ask him out.

Even Jaehyun looks surprised at your question. His hands fly up to his hair, running them through it a couple of times, a habit you had seen countless times before. “Well I, um-” “Jaehyun!” You heard the rather shrill voice of a girl coming from your right. Soon enough the girl that had called his name was now plastered to his side, hands curling around his arm.

“Who’s this, Jaehyun?” The fake tone to her voice is so obvious you want to roll your eyes.

“Oh uh, Y/n is an old...friend of mine. Y/n, this is my girlfriend Nina.” She sticks her hand out and you take it, albeit begrudgingly, while forcing a smile. “It's nice to meet you.” The blonde smiles back, face scrunching up just a little too much to be considered genuine.

“Likewise.” She quips before directing a pout at Jaehyun. “Hyunnie, you promised you’d get off work early to go to that one restaurant I was telling you about.” Hyunnie? You internally shiver in disgust at the pet name. Jaehyun's eyes, which were previously staring at yours, suddenly flit over to Nina’s face.

“Oh yeah, of course. I’ll go get ready and be out in a sec. Why don’t you go wait in the car?” He smiles at her, dimples showing prominently in his cheeks. You hadn't seen those in a while. “Ok!” She says chirpily, leaning up slightly to peck him on the mouth. Suddenly the pit of your stomach boils with anger. Why were you angry? You surely weren’t jealous, were you? No, Y/n. You broke up with him, remember? You ended things.

She turns in your direction, blonde hair swishing around in her high ponytail. “Bye, Y/n!” The lilt in her voice almost made you want to gag but you force out a smile instead and bid her a goodbye as well.

“She’s nice.” Jaehyun almost snorts. Apparently you hadn’t managed to keep the slight disgust out of your voice as well as you had hoped.“She is. I like her.” He says the words as he looks at you. It almost feels like he’s trying to gauge your reaction. You simply nod and give him a tight-lipped smile at first, your hands digging themselves into the pockets of your denim jacket.

“Well, she’s your girlfriend. Isn’t it kind of a given that you like her?” You state more than asks, although you do feel slightly confused now that you thought back on his words. Jaehyun just shrugs nonchalantly.

“Anyways, you heard her.” He jerks his head towards, presumably, the direction of his car. “I'm heading out now.” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, as if considering his options. “About that drink, text me and we can agree on a day. Just as friends though, right?”

It was your turn to be surprised now. You hadn't expected him to actually accept, especially after his girlfriend had interrupted the two of you. It takes you a few stunned seconds before you can respond. “Um, yeah of course. Just as friends.” You scan over his face, curious if you could make out any hidden emotions, but all you can see is Jaehyun’s pleasant smile.

You start to walk backwards, suddenly itching to get out of the now slightly tense and awkward atmosphere. You feel his eyes trail after you. “I’ll text you then. Bye, Jaehyun.” You turn fully after your goodbye, still feeling the burn of his gaze on your back.

“Bye, Y/n.”

You walk home that day in the afternoon sun, a weird feeling brewing deep in your stomach and Jaehyun’s leather jacket still safely stored inside your bag.

You watch the droplets of condensation slowly slide down the side of your glass, thumbs drawing idle circles on the table. Jaehyun should be arriving any minute now. The thought of him makes tiny balls of sweat form at the base of your neck. You’re nervous. Just like the day you went to see him at the garage, you were starting to regret ever texting him in the first place. Thinking that maybe you should've just ignored his acceptance of your invite.

You had tried to, really. But Jaehyun’s name on the message app on your phone had tempted you one too many times. You had caved a few nights prior, asking to meet at a relatively well-known bar in the city and now here you were, sitting alone at a table, leg bouncing in anticipation.

You heave a sigh and take up your phone. Just as you decide to distract yourself with some mindless game, you hear the scrape of a wooden chair from across you.

Jaehyun gives you a smile as he sits down in front of you, prominent dimples poking out. “Sorry I’m late. Got caught up in traffic. Have you been waiting long?”

You shake your head. “No worries, I only just got here about five minutes ago.” Liar. You had been waiting for over half an hour. Jaehyun glances at your glass and raises an eyebrow. “They must have fast service then.”

You don't let the nervous churn of your stomach get to you as you respond. “For a pretty girl sitting alone in a bar? The service is always fast.” You let a small smirk adorn your lips and Jaehyun chuckles at the statement. “Fair enough.”

After a quick glance at his phone screen, Jaehyun directs his attention back at you, leaning on his forearms. “So, how’ve you been?”

You lean back a bit, unconsciously (or more likely consciously) putting space between you and Jaehyun. “Oh you know, going to work, reading up on the news, getting into brawls outside of clubs, the usual.” Jaehyun laughs at what he assumes was a joke. You bite your cheek as a smile finds its way onto your face as well. If only he knew.

It’s ridiculous really, how easy you could fall into conversation with Jaehyun. It feels natural. However in your mind there’s a voice constantly reminding you that this was just what you had come to fear all those months ago. What you had with jaehyun, you had considered it a fling, even though it had felt like a relationship more than you cared to admit.

Your parents failed marriage and the many failed attempts at love on your own part had made you quite opposed to the idea of a relationship. The last time you had been with someone for longer than two weeks had been Jaehyun. You were adamant about keeping feelings out of the mix as best you could, but Jaehyun was a dangerous man. He had found a way to weasel himself into your heart and as soon as you had realised, you shut him out completely.

You wonder why jaehyun was sat in front of you at that moment, an easy smile on his face. When you think back to the night you “broke up”, you recall being rather horrible to him. The hurt expression on Jaehyuns face resurfaces in your mind and you push it down, choosing instead to focus on the conversation.

You laugh genuinely at Jaehyun’s crazy work story and watch how he leans back, the smile on his face making his eyes crinkle up. He was still gazing at you after you finished your little fit of laughter. “What?” You ask, a shy grin pulling at your lips under his gaze.

“I missed your laugh.” You don't fail to notice the way his eyes trace over your face and down over your body, lingering at the curvature of your breasts in your low-cut tee. You shift slightly in your chair and his eyes flick back up to meet yours. You both stare at each other, as if daring the other to back down.  You can feel Jaehyun's leg brushing against yours under the table.

Oh, you think, Jaehyun was a dangerous man indeed.

The bathroom wall is cold against your bare ass as Jaehyun slips your jeans further down your legs. You were unsure of how you got here, your memory going hazy after the little staring contest you had earlier. He’s kissing you feverishly, lips travelling up and down the sides of your neck as you claw at his t-shirt covered back. You audibly gasp as you feel his fingers rub at your clit through your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet already.” You whimper as he grunts in your ear. You had slept and made out with countless people over the past months and yet none of them could make you feel even a fraction of pleasure compared to what you felt whenever Jaehyun touched you.

His mouth trails down further along your body, roughly pushing your t-shirt and bra out of the way to latch onto your nipple, his free hand coming up to play with your other one. Your head falls back against the wall as he grazes your sensitive bud with his teeth, loving the mix of pain and pleasure.

Jaehyun’s hands grab hold of the back of your upper thighs as his face hovers above your heat. He looked up at you through his lashes and you grabbed a fistful of his hair as you urge him on, the ache between your legs nearing unbearable.

A jolt of pleasure shoots up your body as you feel Jaehyun's tongue lick up your slit before pushing his tongue inside of your folds. His hands still work at your clit in small circles, applying just the right amount of pressure to the bud. You bite your lip as you try to hold back the moans that were threatening to spill, this was still a public restroom after all.

“Fuck, Jae.” You curse as he inserts two fingers into your entrance, moving to suck and kiss at your clit. You could perfectly picture his satisfied smile as he hums against your core, once again sending vibrations throughout your body. Gosh, how you had missed this.  

As Jaehyun picks up his speed, you feel the knot in your stomach twist tighter, the gasps leaving your mouth becoming higher in pitch. After a few more pumps you feel your walls contract around Jaehyun’s fingers and pure bliss overcomes you, your body going limp, almost sliding down the wall if it weren’t for Jaehyun coming up to support your weight.

“Shit, I missed this so much. I missed you so much.” Jaehyun mumbles in your ear as he turns your body. Now you stand facing the large bathroom mirrors, hips slightly digging into the border of the sink and panties still halfway down your thigh. You stare at your reflection. You look fucked out, hair and clothes in disarray, with a flurry of small marks beginning to form on your neck and Jaehyun slowly kissing down your shoulders. Looking at yourself was like a slap in the face. This was wrong, oh this was all so wrong. You broke up with Jaehyun. Jaehyun had a girlfriend.  You were fucking Jaehyun in the bathroom of the bar where you had asked to meet up as friends. Friends.

Shit. Panic floods your body and you know you need to get out. Out. Out. Out. You turn around and promptly push Jaehyun off you, nearly making him topple over in the process.

“We can’t do this! You- I - We- we just can’t!” You make quick of pulling your underwear and jeans, grabbing the purse you had previously discarded and rushing out of the room, Jaehyun still struggling to keep up with the sudden turn of events.

“Y/n!”

You hear his shouts coming from behind you but you don’t stop. Making your way through the tables, you desperately try to smooth down your hair so you wouldn’t look as disheveled. You push open the main door and the cold air of the night hits you as you step out on the streets. A shiver runs down your spine. All of this was wrong.

And all of it was your fault.

It was currently around 8pm and you’re sat on the couch in your apartment, the stark light of the tv screen casting shadows around your dark room. You mindlessly flick through the channels, not really finding anything worth watching. Your eyes keep on wandering towards your phone. All week you had been avoiding Jaehyun as if he were the pest. You Ignored both his calls and his texts. There was a twinge in your gut.

None of this was Jaehyun's fault. You had given him false hope of a relationship and broke it off. You had ignored him for months after. You had asked him out. You had made him cheat on his girlfriend. You were the one that had played with him as if he were some toy.

He cheated on his girlfriend because of you. Granted, you had slept with guys who were in relationships over the past few months, but that was different. You didn't know prior if they were in a relationship or not, they were just a hookup.

But this time, you had actually seen the girlfriend. Talked to her, touched her. And while yes, you had not liked her in the slightest, that didn't justify your actions. You were a cheater.

Just like your dad. Thanks brain, for that helpful reminder. You sigh in frustration at yourself. Maybe you should just go to bed.

You get up and switch off the TV, but just as you are about to head to your room, you hear a knock on the door.

You freeze, unsure of what to do. A few seconds later, the knocks are repeated. Deciding to just see who it is and not stand around in your living room like an idiot, you make your way over to the door.

“I broke up with Nina.”

These are the first words that leave Jaehyun’s mouth, as he stands on your doorstep. You don’t know what to respond in all honesty. Jaehyun worries his lips between his teeth. “Can I come in, please?”

You nod in your stunned silence and step to the side to let Jaehyun through, letting the door click shut behind him. There’s a pause, you don't know what to say and it seems like he doesn't either.

After what feels like an eternity spent in silence, Jaehyun finally turns to face you. “Ok, I’m gonna say something now and… before you say anything in response, please hear me out.” There’s an unsure fluttering in your chest, your heartbeat speeds up as your hands begin sweating slightly. The situation makes you anxious but after a deep breath, you nod at Jaehyun, signaling to him that he could continue.

“I know that what we had a few months back was intended to be nothing but a fling to you. I may not have known it at the time, correction, I had no idea it wasn’t serious for you at the time. We had been together for three months by then. I believed your lies, I’ll even go so far as to admit  you fooled me.” He chuckles in attempt to lighten the blow, but its bitter and it makes the guilt in your stomach rise up to your throat like bile.

“I don’t think it was directly your intention to hurt me though. You probably wanted something fleeting, a temporary boyfriend to get your insisting friends off your back. But you fell in love.” You cross your arms defensively on your chest, an innate response to Jaehyun’s accusing statement.

He sighs and pauses for a moment. “You can lie to yourself all you want, Y/n. I know you were in love. I know it because I felt it too. And you realized... and you got scared.” You feel stubborn tears prick at your eyes and turn your gaze towards the now very intriguing pattern of your carpet floor.

“Now maybe this isn’t my place to say but.... but I feel like it is. I know why you’re scared of the possibility of loving someone, of loving me, but this whole agenda you have of pushing away anything that might make you happy is ridiculous.” You can hear the anger in his voice and it pushes you to do something you know you shouldn’t.  

“You say that if you know anything about me!” You yell at him and his expression is taken aback for a second before the furrow between his brows reappears.

“Oh, I don’t know anything about you? Will you stop pretending that our relationship, which by the way, was an actual relationship, didn’t happen? Just for one second, can you acknowledge the fact that we had hour long conversations, that we actually shared our feelings? That you’ve told me about the crap you went through.”

Your breathing has become labored. You want to disagree so badly, want to argue that he knows nothing, that he’s wrong. But he wasn’t, and you sure as hell knew it. “Fine!” You scream. “Fine! Okay! I admit it. We did have a relationship! It was real! I did-” You inhale a shake breath, your voice not as strong when you continue. “I do love you and it scares me.” Tears are flowing down your face freely and you don’t hold back, you can’t, not anymore. “I’m so scared because I love you… so much. I love you more than anyone. These past few months, I- I’ve tried e- everything to get my mind off you but I can’t- I can’t and I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry I mess shit up and make you confused and make you cheat-” “Hey, hey, hey” Jaehyun cuts you off as he crosses the space between you, his warm hands cupping both sides of your face. “First of all, the cheating part… we both take blame for that. And the confusion thing, well, it’s true, you did confuse me…a lot but it’s okay because you love me and I love you... and I forgive you.”

You shake your head fiercely and try to pull his hands from your face. “Don’t you get it, Jaehyun? I’m no good for you. I’m… I’m the bad guy.” jaehyun chuckles softly as he rests his forehead against yours, little puffs of his warm breath hitting your face. “You’re not the bad guy, Y/n. You deserve happiness. Will you let me give you that happiness?”

You breathe out deeply through your nose and close your eyes, feeling the anger and frustration at yourself slowly seep out of your body. Jaehyu’s touch relaxes yu and as you open your eyes to look at him, he smiles and leans in to press his lips against yours. It’s a short kiss, sweet and caring and delicate. The kiss is followed by another and another, until they get longer, more heated, more passionate.

Jaehyun’s calloused hands travel around your body with ease. He softly pushes you against the wall and presses his body flush to yours. His kisses trail all over your face, your neck and al the way down to your collarbone. It isn’t long before he hoists you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around his middle . Everything feels natural, easy. You let yourself relax fully and fall into his touch. You let him carry you to your bedroom and push you down onto mattress, let his kisses wander further south until your squirming under his hold. You let your sounds of passion echo through your room until late into the night and finally, finally allow yourself to actually feel something.

You’re done holding back from love. You could finally admit what you were repressing for so long.

You love Jung Jaehyun.

You trace the small crack in the wall next to your bed in the dark. It was well past midnight, and yet you’re wide awake. You feel Jaehyun’s arm safely secured around your waist, the warmth of his body behind you seeps into your very soul. The room aroundyou is quiet save for the few times a car outside passes by and the shallow breathing of the man pressed up against you. Some time ago, you would have found that Jaehyun’s arm around your waist felt like a cage, something that weighed you down and tugged at your heart uncomfortable. Now, however, you find comfort in the way his skin feels on yours, the way you can faintly feel his heartbeat against your back. You feel safe.

Your eyes fall to the corner of your room, where the brown leather jacket still lay folded over a chair. You smile to yourself.

You would give it back, eventually.

#neowritingsnet #nct jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct smut #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader #nct #nct u #nct 127 #smut #angst #fluff #fanfic

[a19yearoldtryinherbest]

Secrets. Part 2 [Bill Hader]

Masterlist

15 Days of Hader

Day 6

Part 1

Prompt: After a one night stand with Bill OFC finds herself in her bathroom with a  pregnancy test

Pairing: Bill Hader x OFC

Warning: Hurt/confort.

A/N: Day six of 15 Days Of Hader! Requested part 2. I’m so sorry for the delay.

This was hard to put togheter

The gif has nothing to do with anything, he just looks really cute.

Word count: 2318

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The timer reached the set time. She turned it off but didn’t look at the result. She knew what it would say, it was obvious, she was six weeks late, what else could it be? Still, she stayed there looking ahead into the blank white wall of her bathroom. She remembered the night she had spent with Bill, it was spontaneous and a bit drunken but she couldn’t help to think about almost every day, one way or another.

She regretted leaving his place without even saying goodbye but in that moment she was so sure he was only interested in a one night stand, now she kept wondering if she was right. And now, if she was pregnant, she would have to tell him, right?

She felt nerves building up her stomach as she went to grab the pregnancy test. Her chest sunk the second she looked at the positive result. She fell back down to the toilet seat as tears blurred her vision. She didn’t want it like this. She went to bed, crying a little more, running some scenes of how everything could play out in her head. Even if the worst case scenarios seemed to be the ones closer to reality she just rejoiced in the happy ones. She kept imagining a picture perfect family with Bill.

She cried, not just because she was pregnant and alone but because, no matter what she would do, no matter what happened, she was sure she would get hurt. There was no escaping it. She tried to run away from her feelings, tried to get away from the excruciating pain, but she couldn’t escape any of it, the love, the pain, the fear. So she let herself cry to sleep that night just to wake up and go to work the morning after.

She let two weeks go by without telling anyone, avoiding the subject at all cost, at least until morning sickness started and she felt guilty every time she was reminded of it. She talked to her sister and, since she didn’t like the advice she gave her, talked to her closet friend in town.

She saw D'arcy enter the store and go towards her with a bright happy smile she seemed to carry at all times. Amelia stood up from her seat, letting D'arcy hug her quickly — So nice to see you! — D'arcy chimed before sitting down in front of her— It feels like ages since we last talked.

Amelia sat down and smiled — Yeah. I’ve been busy with the new job and all.

— I know! How is that going? — she asked. She seemed actually interested and that made Amelia feel better, she had felt guilty to just jump ships like that. And she hadn’t really said goodbye to anyone that night since she was busy making out with Bill.

— Good, yeah. — the waiter came and left the menus on the table to which both women replied a quick “thank you” — The director isn’t as talented and open as Bill but I get my share of good moments. — she commented with a happy smile.

— You can always come back. — teased the taller woman before opening the menu. Amelia smiled playfully and they continued discussing their options for lunch. D'arcy got a tuna salad and Amelia a BLT, which made the actress look at her funny.

— I thought you didn’t like tomato.

— I don’t. — she said in all seriousness, making D'arcy laugh — I mean, I didn’t. — she corrected. It was one of her cravings, still, she wasn’t sure if she liked tomatoes yet.

Amelia made her duty to keep the conversation as light as possible, trying to buy some time for herself, but mind conversation she felt nauseous and she excused herself to the bathroom where she ended up puking the little food she had eaten. D'arcy followed her to the stall and held her hair back when she realized what was going on. She passed Amelia a paper towel with a apologetic face.

— Was it the tomato? — she asked as she helped her friend to get up from the floor. Amelia washed away the sour taste with some water from the faucet and spit it out, she looked at her friend trough the reflection and slowly shook her head with puppy eyed, like a child who broke something and knows there’s no fixing it — Then what is it?

Amelia turned around slowly and looked at her dead in the eye — I’m pregnant.

There was a moment of silence, a moment too long for Amelia, where D'arcy’s face went through a few emotions. First it was excitement, then some sort of realization, followed by concern to then land in a cautious, uneasy and confused frown — Who’s the father?

— It’s Bill. — Amelia smiled awkwardly, seeing the shook on her friend’s face.

— Bill. — she said, double checking, completely astonished. Amelia nodded, panicking inside — Bill, my boss, Bill? — Amelia nodded again and started getting a little more nervous as the reality of the situation settled in with her — Bill- Hader?

— Yes, Bill! — she bursted out and started pacing across a small portion of the bathroom, almost walking in circles around herself.

— Ok, this is big… this is huge! — D'arcy said, watching her walk in a straight line from side to side — Are you guys dating?

Amelia didn’t stop pacing even though she was getting a little dizzy — No. It was a one night thing.

She wanted to ask why but she settled for — Have you told him yet?

She stopped in her tracks and looked at D'arcy with guilt and panic — No! And I’m freaking out! — she grabbed her hair in her hands in desperation — I can’t tell him, he’s gonna hate me. — she assured and D'acry saw no other choice but softly grab her arms and look at her straight in the eye, getting her to focus.

— You’re gonna tell him and he’s not going to hate you. — she assured, leaning down a little to be face to face — Call him.

— What? — she shook her head frantically — No, I can’t tell him over the phone, we haven’t talked in months. — she countered.

— Then set a date. — she said and Amelia looked at her blankly, unable to form an excuse. D'arcy sighted and let go of her arms — Look I know you. If you don’t tell him now, under pressure, you’ll tell him when the baby is about to pop out.

— Can’t I do that? — she tried to joke but only received a stern from her friend. She shrunk herself a little bit before being completely honest by saying — I don’t know D'arcy, it’s too much, too sudden. I feel like I’m ambushing him.

— Then let him know that you have to tell him something important before, but you have to tell him, Amelia.

She knew D'arcy was right so she grunted and then nodded in response. She couldn’t wait much longer and the more she waited the worst it would be. They went to Amelia’s apartment, wrote a little script for her to follow and called Bill. Amelia felt her heart race as the phone rang. One beat, she sat down on the couch. She knew it was a mistake, he would hate her, he wouldn’t want to see her again. Two beats, D'arcy touched knee leg to show support. Bill wouldn’t do that, he’s a good guy, she was sure of it; but the fear remained. Three beats, she quickly looked at her friend with regret. He would want to be part of his child’s life, or at least she thought that, but she wasn’t sure about her, how she would fit in Bill’s holidays picture. Four beats, he picked up and she found herself tonged tied.

— Hello? — he calls into the silent line and the informal script is pushed on her hands so she reads the first words out loud.

— Hi, Bill.

There was brief silence which made Amelia regret the call, but Bill spoke again — Amelia. — her name in his mouth made her shiver as her heart shrunk down, it sounded so sweet and real, that was her name, only when he called it. She remembered that the last time she had heard him say it was in the form of a coarse moan and found herself wishing to hear it like that again.

She swallowed thick and looked back to the paper but there was no response of her name so she tried to lead it back into the script — Yes. Hi. I know it’s been a long time but I need to talk to you. — her voice was shaking like it had never before, she didn’t stutter but it seemed like she was about to break down crying at any moment.

Bill noted it, worried he asked — Are you alright?

— Y-yeah. — said Amelia. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply — I need you to tell you something important. — her voice was still shaking but not as much as before so Bill took her completely serious.

— When do you want to meet? — Amelia looked at the table in front of her as she gathered all the courage she could get

— As soon as you can.

She heard him breathing through the phone. It wasn’t fast or shaky, it was steady and slow, like if he was consciously controlling it — Are you free right now?

— Y-yeah. At my place?

Bill stayed silent, probably thinking about that night where she insisted they shouldn’t go back to her apartment, unbeknownst to him she had done it  just so she could get out while he was sleeping the night after — Yeah, I’ll be there in twenty minutes. — he let her know and her breath hitched as she nodded even if he couldn’t see her — Bye.

She hung up the phone and looked at D'arcy like if her doom was right around the corner — He’s coming in twenty minutes.

— Great, so I’ll go.

— What? — she was surprised. Even if it made no sense she wanted D'arcy with her during the talk.

— Honey, this is something private you two have to work out together. — she softly pressed her leg with the hand she had put there right before the call and then she moved to grab her purse — I’m gonna see myself out. You just prepare, It’ll be alright. And if you want me to come after just tell me, alright? — she nodded and just like that she was alone.

She felt nerves building up as the clock ticked, she was frozen, her mind couldn’t move past the fear until she placed her hand on her belly and all she could think about was about that future baby. Maybe it would be a girl and they name her Hope to keep the H’s going, and maybe he would have his father’s big, light teal eyes, and her own dark, thick hair and she would laugh as easily as her father, lighting up any room with her smile. She caught herself smiling at the thought of a baby in her arms looking up to her and Bill as he held them both but the knock on her door brought her back to reality, where nothing was sure and anything could go south.

She stoop up and opened the door. Bill was standing on the other side and she let him in. He was nervous, that was for sure, his leg kept bouncing up and down while he sat down on the chair she offered — Do you want something to drink?

— Yeah. — he sounded dispersed, bewildered, almost like he wasn’t really there.

— Tea? — she asked, hoping he would look at her with his bright eyes again but he didn’t.

— Sure.

She went to the kitchen and looked at him through the half wall as she waited for the kettle to boil. His eyes darted trough the air, he was deep in thought and she only wished to know what he was thinking and soon she knew. She settled both cups on the table and Bill looked at her straight in the eyes, he had snapped back to reality in just one pull and his head was full just one burning on his tong — What did you had to tell me? — he didn’t mean to sound so harsh so he tried to compensate — You seemed… afflicted.

— Yeah. — she started fidgeting with her fingers looking at them for moment before looking back at Bill — It’s… not bad necessarily, just- it’s big, I understand if you need time or something — she took a deep breath, and looked at him again — I’m pregnant. — she said, and without thinking it twice added — I wanna keep it.

She saw every muscle Bill moved in his face during those three silent minutes, it was mostly his eyes, but she couldn’t decipher any expression, so she just had to watch him think through everything without knowing what he was thinking. After those unbearable three minutes and twelve seconds she heard his voice — Ok. — he said.

— Ok? — she asked, hesitant and cautious.

— Ok. — He smiled softly as he nodded, making her heart melt — We can figure this out, together. — she smiled, hopeful, relived and grateful. He didn’t hate her, he wanted her to be in his life and their child’s. Maybe some of what she thought of was going to happen, maybe she had some sort of place in the picture, even if it wasn’t perfect right then — It’ll be alright.

#15 Days Of Hader #bill hader #bill hader imagine #bill hader imagines #bill hader x reader #bill hader x OFC #barry hbo #barry berkman

[charmingturkeysandwich]

fireworks (that went off too soon)

Hey there! This is a CS one shot. An AU in which Killian is the lead singer and songwriter in a band that sounds suspiciously like Fall Out Boy...

Summary: Emma and Killian were friends in college, but haven’t spoken in 9 years. Killian’s band’s new single changes everything.

Words: 4400ish

Rating: Teen? (Swearing, References to Sex)

Also on AO3

Big thanks to @awkwardnessandbaseball​ for reading this over, correcting all my dumbass mistakes, and helping me polish this up pretty :) (The title comes from my favorite Fall Out Boy song, Fourth of July. It’s heavily featured in the story sung by Killian’s band.)

---

It was 3pm on Friday the 13th – also a Full Moon – when Emma Swan finally had the meltdown she’d pressed “pause” on about nine years earlier.

(Nine years, three months, more accurately, but who was counting?)

The work week was winding down. The get this done today or be fired tasks had been completed and all the emails had been answered and it was about time to start doing the bare minimum to run down the clock to 5:01 when she could, without regret, run screaming from the building and put her god forsaken job out of her mind for two days of rest, relaxation, and rum.

(Definitely the rum. Or maybe it had been upgraded to a tequila weekend.)

It was Pandora’s fault, really. (A fitting name for opening up an emotional box inside her soul that had been sealed for quite a long time and with very good fucking reason.)

Usually Emma listened to wordless music – movie scores, Vitamin String Quartet and the like – so as to keep the creative juices flowing without breaking her train of concentration. But having reached the procrastination part of the afternoon, she thought, what harm could there be in listening to a little regular music?

Emma had always had a soft spot for pop/punk/emo music. It brought her joy even when it wasn’t joyful, which is either a sentiment only shared by lonely foster girls or perhaps all emo kids, but did it matter? It was her kind of music. Long before she met Killian Jones.

But then she met him. He was an insufferable ass at least 2/3 of the time, but for the other third of his life, he was sweet, funny, and musically a goddamn genius. His voice was smooth and warm, he could play guitar like it was in his DNA, and his lyrics were both relatable and completely original. She was half in love from the start, so of course she pushed him as far away as possible.

(Love is patient; love is kind. Love is slowly losing my mind)

He was aloof. At best. They were college kids who shared a dorm building and not much else, not until their roommates fell in love with each other. That’s around the time they started spending an inordinate amount of time together. He was fucking anything with brown eyes and tits and she absolutely did not care and everything was fine. They were friends, kind of. She was a fan of his band, but not in the groupie way. She had no intention of being just a notch in his bedpost or a line in his song.

(As it turned out, she ended up becoming both. Eventually.)

When he wasn’t playing shows in dive bars (or fucking freshmen girls in a shower stall of their dorm hall’s shared bathroom), he spent a lot of time in Emma’s room. Mostly to avoid Mary Margaret and David in his room who were, as he called it, “the most sickly sweet love story this side of the Atlantic” and “a complete buzzkill to complex song-writing.” And she was OK with it. She loved when he would compose while she read. And they had the best conversations. They challenged each other on everything from politics to pie flavors and she’d never been so stimulated by someone of the opposite sex in her life.

Intellectually stimulated. In the brain.

By junior year, the two pairs of roommates had moved off-campus, opting to share a three bedroom house while they finished up school. Killian’s band was starting to actually make something of themselves, but he vowed to get his degree (this pretty face won’t last forever), and Emma played tutor for him when he skipped class for weeks on end so he could play some gigs on the west coast.

They were friends. They were equals. They meant so much more to each other than “just” friends or study buddies or housemates or anything, because the past three years had been the most stable years in either of their lives and it was all because of the support they received from each other in the darkest nights and the brightest days and seriously.

Fuck Pandora.

It had distracted her when she was in the middle of perfectly pleasant procrastinating. Now she was getting off track. Frazzled. Fucking pissed.

With her work mostly finished, she had decided to listen to Panic! At the Disco’s station. It was a safe zone – the best of two different genres: emo and pop. She bopped along to Blink 182 and “the Ballad of Mona Lisa.” She swayed and swooned a little when “Secrets” by One Republic played. And she got a good laugh at “I’m Not OK (I Promise),” remembering the days she’d scream “I’m not o-fucking kay! [trust me]” every time she got into a fight with the foster mother she now loved so very much.

But then there was a dramatic twist and a cinematic sweep and that voice and before she could switch the station, some warning popped up at her, removing all the buttons and controls and displaying the error message of SOMETHING WENT WRONG and all she could think was no shit, Sherlock.

Killian’s band got big when they were 21. And stayed big. The band broke up once, briefly, but they’d been dancing around the American Top 40 for at least 6 of the last 9 years and as much as it hurt her to hear his voice through a radio and not through a wall of their shared house, at least the lyrics of the songs never stung her before.

Because they’d never been about her before.

It was the summer before senior year, late that June, and Killian had just returned from a little pop-punk festival in Seattle. She’d picked him up at the airport in Portland (Maine) and had been chatting his ear off about how much better “our” Portland was from “theirs” (Oregon), but Killian had been largely silent.

Which was out of character to the extreme, his little creative writing/song composer mind always racing and his far too pleasing voice always spilling from his stupidly attractive lips.

“What is up with you, Jones? I just said that they have better lobster in Oregon and you didn’t even react.”

From the passenger seat, he played with the window controller, the air whooshing in and stopping to the rhythm of Seven Nation Army AKA the world’s most overplayed song that wasn’t sung by Ed Sheeran or Taylor Swift.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing, Swan. A problem for a different day, to be sure.”

His voice had been quiet, unsure. That wasn’t him either. This was the asshole who could start a trend with a typo and who claimed to have made a girl come with nothing but his voice. His level of confidence was infuriating, but unshakeable.

(He made forgetting the words to his own songs look attractive. And that was an eventual Buzzfeed headline, not Emma’s own assessment. Obviously.)

“Killian, what’s up? Did the festival not go as well as you wanted? From what I saw on YouTube, it seemed awfully successful.”

“Aye, love.” He perked up just a bit, finally turning toward her and smiling. “It was grand.”

“And you’re brooding because, what, you’re worried that feeling happy for too long will sap you of your emo energy or something?”

Her attempt to lighten the mood didn’t seem to take, though, and Killian turned back out the window like he was practicing for his very own music video.

When they got back to their house, Emma grabbed his clothes and Killian lugged the musical equipment and neither of them said a word.

Fog had rolled in, or maybe it was on its way out, and if it weren’t for the green leaves, it might have felt like October. But there was something about his expression that was a hell of a lot more December. Something ending.

They were lingering almost awkwardly in their kitchen, Emma trying to casually wrack her brain for how to pull Killian out of his little funk, when he interrupted her with an overdramatic clearing of his throat.

“Ahem! Fancy a drink, Swan?” Killian extended a shot glass to her, a dark liquid inside that couldn’t be anything but spiced rum.

“What’s the occasion?” she asked hesitantly.

“Perhaps… perhaps it’s a celebration.”

“…of?”

“Your business sense, of course!” He lifted his glass toward hers for a clink and then downed the shot faster than she could even raise hers to her lips.

“What kind of business are we talking here? I’m not sure if this is the setup for an idiot joke or a reference to lyrics you swear you told me you wrote but never actually did.”

“Ah, love, no. Not that, this time anyway. Actually – actually, it’s about the band. And ‘Grand Theft Autumn.’ They loved it like you said they would.”

“They being?”

“The record company. They loved it. And they want it. And us.”

Holy shit! She knew it. They were going to be famous. Killian deserved it so much and they were going to be huge and everyone was going to love him just like she did and –

Wait.

“When you say they want you… do you mean, like, deferred acceptance so you can finish college or…”

“No, love. The boys and I … we’re packing up and moving to LA.”

She was dumbfounded.

“LA?”

“Aye.”

“When?”

“Monday.”

That’s right about the time her stomach dropped to her heels and the rum threatened its way back up her throat and perhaps onto Killian’s perfectly rumpled white shirt.

She just – wasn’t ready to let him go.

She could hear his honey-smooth voice drift through her head, his own lyrics seeming oddly relevant to this dramatic turn in her life.

Maybe he won’t find out what I know; you were the last good thing about this part of town.

So they drank. And drank. And drank some more. They were more honest with each other than they’d been in three years. She told him how much she hated that he thought setting his clocks early would keep him from being late. And he told her that he didn’t truly think that… it just had fit as a song lyrics and he felt like he needed to “make it authentic by living it.”

She called him pretentious and he called her painfully adorable and neither were true and yet somehow they felt like the perfect identifiers for the characters they were trying to be when they weren’t with each other.

So of course she fell into bed with him that night. Her bed. The twinkly lights hung around her ceiling were flickering as he kissed a trail down her neck and she tugged off his way-too-tight jeans and dear fucking lord if she thought the only thing he could do with his tongue was sing, she was officially wrong.

But come morning she was officially gone. As the sun rose on a rainy June Sunday morning, she slipped out of her bed, slid into whatever clothes she could reach without making noise, and jogged all the way to David’s brother’s frat house to hide until Monday came and went and when exactly did her life turn into an emo song?

When I wake up I’m willing to take my chances on the hope I forget

September. Friday the 13th. Pandora malfunction. Her brain was reeling and her heart was shattering all over again, because the song pumping through her pathetic tinny Dell speakers was, on first blush, just another of his melodramatic fictions, a series of sentiments that sounded good together but that he’d never actually experienced (he’d admitted the best songs were much like Hey There Delilah… a lovely story and 0% real).  But she could hear something genuine in that still so attractive voice. And then… a few familiar thoughts.

I’ll be as honest as you let me

I miss your early morning company

If you get me

You are my favorite ‘what if’

You are my best ‘I’ll never know’

She’d turned off her phone the morning she’d left him in her bed. Kept it off until Tuesday. And blocked his number the minute she turned it back on.

Goodbyes were bad enough. To have been reduced to his very last college-one-night-stand? She couldn’t face it.

(Especially because she’d realized mid-fuck she’d kind of always wanted to be his forever, or whatever overly-romantic hyperbole he’d scoff at before writing it down in his notes.)

She hadn’t let herself think of him for longer than the span of one of his songs since that day. Even then, she’d usually change the channel. It was just too hard.

But could this one actually be about her? And if so, what the fuck was she supposed to do with that? Cry? Scream? Sue his sorry ass for slander?

(Not that one.)

She’d made a lot of mistakes in her life. He’d never been one of them, not until the end. Is it possible that didn’t need to be the end at all?

My 9 to 5 is cutting open old scars

Again and again til I’m stuck in your head

He’d probably had a lot of almosts. Maybe he’d just gotten better at faking genuine emotion in his songs. There’s no way he still thought about her. Even for lyrical dramatics.

I wish I’d known how much you loved me

I wish I’d cared enough to know

I’m sorry every song’s about you

The torture of small talk

With someone you used to love

Well there you had it. Small talk? They hadn’t talked in years. And she already knew every song was total bullshit, made up longing. Some of his best lovelorn pandering (that she admittedly loved) had been written when he claimed to be incapable of actual love. When he would only sleep with dark-haired, dark-eyed girls who didn’t want anything more than a good breakfast the next morning.

(I’m not looking for a soulmate, darling, just a beauty without a gag reflex, he’d repeated on many occasions. Sometimes literally to the women he was hitting on. And yes, they did usually blow him afterward and he would inexplicably tell her and she Did. Not. Care.)

(Until the day she realized she always had.)

A week after he’d moved to Los Angeles had been the 4th of July. It being summer and most of her friends working various jobs, she didn’t think there would be a huge party. James had insisted, though, that they needed to celebrate the fact that their friends were getting famous. David had pointed out the irony that the band – Killian, Will, Robin, and Graham – were all from outside of the USA. And yet they were being celebrated on America’s birthday.

“Stealing things from others is the American way. Now drink, little brother!” James had shouted just before his frat brothers lifted him into keg stand position and he chugged.

Emma wasn’t one for keg stands, so she’d opted for drinking straight liquor instead, and from what she could extrapolate from the massive headache the next morning (in addition to the vomit in her bedside garbage can), she had likely drank that bottle in its entirety.

After the opening of Pandora’s box that fateful Friday the 13th, Emma couldn’t think of much else but her almost-maybe-something Killian Jones. Suddenly his stupid band was everywhere and that stupid song was everywhere and she was feeling a deep longing to connect with that girl who had two whole albums by two different bands written about her to see how the fuck she coped with old wounds being opened every fucking visit to the grocery store.

(Then again, Brand New and Taking Back Sunday weren’t quite so mainstream. Maybe that’s how she survived.)

(Is that what you call a getaway? Tell me what you got away with, cause I’ve seen more spine in jellyfish; I’ve seen more guts in 11 year old kids.)

She’d taken to keeping the radio off at all times, and humming the Star Spangled Banner when she couldn’t escape Killian’s stupidly attractive and all-too-familiar voice gracing the airwaves.

Ruby asked her out for drinks, and alcohol was exactly the cure for her current tumult, so she agreed on the very specific request that they hit the country bar downtown instead of their usual Rabbit Hole escapades. Which worked out great for avoiding song-specific reminders, but sadly didn’t keep all Killian talk at bay.

“By the way, how have you been holding up?” Ruby asked, probably in response to Emma’s downing two shots – one of which that had been intended for Ruby – in the first minute or so at the table.

“What do you mean, holding up?” She wasn’t that transparent, right?

“Well the song… the one Killian wrote about you. It’s, like… huge. Weird how he waited this long. Did he warn you first or anything?”

… what? It wasn’t about her. Sure, it kind of, a little bit, had some moments that seemed like they could be inspired by her. But it had been nine fucking years and she hadn’t seen him since the morning she slinked away from their house and it’s not like he’d ever reached out or anything (or at least he didn’t try very hard, because blocking a cell phone number wasn’t like blocking a whole-ass person),  hence her nine years of denial and shoving down her feelings like the very opposite of the emo kid she once was.

She probably looked like that stupid meme of the lady thinking about math and her heart was beating nearly out of her chest, but somehow the only sound that made it out of her mouth was, “huh?”

Ruby, bless her heart, was much better at dealing with, you know, life than Emma was. And sorting through feelings and coping with unprecedented situations that Emma had so far only seen odd iterations of in Hallmark movies or … emo music videos, probably.

“The song. Fourth of July. It’s been a while since he wrote a song about you and I mean usually they were about pining for you, which is a little more tolerable, probably. But this one… I don’t know. I just figured you probably didn’t appreciate it, and that’s why you were drinking my shots.”

Another lame, dumbfounded response: “What? Killian’s never written a song about me.”

Ruby’s eyebrow shot up to her hairline (the way Killian’s always had when she said something silly). “So all that shit in college was…?”

“Made up! Ruby, he was a creative writing major. He just made up characters and then wrote songs as if he were them. He never actually wanted to date anyone. Just fuck anything that resembled Megan Fox.”

Ruby didn’t say a word. She stood, walked to the bar, ordered two drinks, and sat back down with Emma a few minutes later.

“Sweetheart. You sure are dumb for a smart girl.”

And that’s how Emma’s Enlightenment began.

As it turns out, Killian’s creative writing skills were great, but not quite as great as his love for his best friend.

Yep, love. Apparently he’d loved her.

There was a reason he’d really only fucked girls that looked nothing like Emma.

There was a reason he had valued her input so much in his music.

There was a reason he’d hung out with her so often and it had nothing to do with Mary Margaret and David’s grossness.

Keep quiet; nothing comes as easy as you. Can I lay in your bed all day?

Fuck.

“Why didn’t he tell me?!”

Ruby laughed at her, which was totally uncalled for, but also kind of made a lot of sense if she had the ability to think of any of this objectively.

“Oh, honey. He told you every goddamn day in those songs. And how he acted. You’d have to be blind to not realize how much that boy loved you. So he assumed it was a ‘no’ from your side. And then after you slept with him and then he poured his heart out to you and still nothing? That was kinda it for him. But I mean, it’s been so long. I can’t believe he released a song about that now.”

At that, Emma’s jaw dropped. Hard. There was an audible pop and damnit, she was going to have to ice that later, probably.

“How do you know I slept with him?!”

“… because you had a fight about it literally in front of every person you knew?”

HUH?

The buzz of the alcohol was nothing compared to the stinging behind her eyes and the pain in her gut and seriously had the past decade actually been a very different reality from what she’d been living?

And how had Mary Margaret, AKA the Secret Spiller, never told her that A) Killian loved her or B) that Emma had apparently had a blacked-out fight with him in front of everyone?

Emma’s Enlightment continued.

Apparently no one spilled the secret because no one knew it was a secret to start. Much like Killian had, everyone thought that Emma knew his feelings, but that she just wanted to be friends.

And after the blow up on the Fourth of July, they just assumed she didn’t want to talk about it.

While David and James and a bunch of their friends were playing beer pong and Mary Margaret and Regina were trying to find another pair to play cornhole, Emma had been nursing a bottle of Jack Daniels from the roof of the frat house. She’d crawled out of Jefferson’s window, much to his annoyance (he worked in the morning and needed to sleep), and she just watched. Everyone was having a good time. The best days of their lives were now or even tomorrow.

But hers were yesterday.

So she drank and she drank and she drank until the boys were lighting off fireworks and Belle had started a chant of USA! USA! And out of nowhere she saw the floppy brown hair and scuffed-up leather jacket she’d been wishing for every minute of the last week.

“Swan! I need to speak with you!” he’d called up at her, perched on the Lion statue at the front entrance.

But, of course, he’d been pulled in a thousand different directions as soon as everyone else saw their about-to-be-famous friend. So Emma drank and drank and drank some more, not prepared to actually have to say goodbye this time.

Ruby wasn’t sure how long it took until Killian made it onto the roof with her. She did know they’d only been talking a few minutes when Emma started screaming at the top of her lungs about thanks for the memories, even though they weren’t so great. That seemed to have really upset him, because then he started screaming about why the bloody hell did you sleep with me then and Emma had cried but ultimately said she didn’t mean to and he needed to just leave because that’s what he was going to do anyway and there was no reason to feel sorry for her.

There had been more screaming that wasn’t quite intelligible (thank goodness), but when all was said and done, Killian had told Ruby that he laid it all down on the line, how much he loved her, how he wanted her to go with him to LA, how he really would burn down the whole city just to show her the light, but she’d said no. Emphatically.

Before crying so hard in Jefferson’s closet that he threatened to take her to the ER.  When Emma passed out, Killian had carried her to his car (the only sober one) and carried her into her room when they got to his now-former house, leaving her with a kiss on the cheek and his later assurance to Ruby that at least he had tried.

And Emma didn’t remember.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Emma muttered to Ruby.

Was there anything worse than finding out something that could have changed your life nine fucking years too late? She had never loved anyone like she’d loved Killian. It had been the easiest relationship of her existence. She’d never felt more safe, more valued, more… loved. But she’d thought it was friend-love.

(Even after the amazing sex.)

What a fucking dumbass she was.

Ruby left her to gather her thoughts/sulk in the corner for at least three line dances before she came back over to their table, bringing Emma a nice tall water as she cleared the un-drunk Long Island Iced Tea from next to Emma’s slumped head.

“I don’t think I can ever un-fuck this up,” Emma whined into her elbow before sitting up to chug the glass of water.

“I do have his number,” Ruby offered.

Hey um Ruby gave me your number and apparently I have a lot to apologize for

Congratulations on the fame also by the way I loved you every minute of every day

This is Emma, remember me? Apparently your song about me is doing really well

Hey Killian, I was wondering if you ever made it to this side of the country any more

I don’t know what to say except I’m sorry

After about 15 failed attempts to send him a message that would convey the depth of her regret, she nearly gave up. Hands shaking, legs bouncing, lunch threatening to make an encore appearance, she pulled up the lyrics to his new song, took a screenshot,

And all my thoughts of you

They could heat or cool the room

And now don’t tell me you’re fine

Oh, honey, you don’t have to lie

And added:

I’m not fine.

It was a very painful 26 hours before she received a response, a screenshot with an addition as well.

I said I’d never miss you, but I guess you’ll never know

Where the bridges I have burned never really led home

Can I come home?

They met outside the old frat house (now shut down) a week later, staying awake until sunrise just catching up on all that had happened since they last saw each other (and a little bit of what happened when they did). She brought sparklers and he brought nine years of unreleased song lyrics.

And when his band’s next single was called Opening Pandora’s Box on Friday the Thirteenth, well, everyone but Emma just thought they were being their usual melodramatic selves.

Yeah, songs about her weren’t all that awful after all.

#cs ff #cs au ff #cs au #keisha writes #things i love #captain swan #emo music #BAM I PUT THEM TOGETHER #if you like this let me know? #because I think we'd be friends

[northwest-writing]

Simon Says: A Short Play

Lights down. Water is heard trickling into a urinal. Zip. Flush. Lights up on a Caesar’s Palace men’s room. Stalls, urinals, and sinks. GEORGE, smartly dressed, steps away from a urinal and goes to wash his hands. A second flush. SIMON, wearing a gaudy jacket with “SIMON” in big letters on the back, steps out of a stall and goes to wash his hands next to George. George turns off the sink and grabs a paper towel, turns around and leans against the counter as he speaks.

GEORGE

That’s a pretty convincing performance you put on.

SIMON

Glances at the bathroom stalls.

I’m sorry?

GEORGE

Your show I mean. You really have those people in the palm of your hand up there. If it weren’t for the fact that the only volunteers you ever take are young, suggestible women, I’d almost believe you’re doing real work up there.

SIMON

And just who exactly are you supposed to be?

GEORGE

(Extends a hand) George Clifford, senior investigative reporter for the New York Times.

SIMON

(Shaking George’s hand) The Amazing Simon Saz, resident stage hypnotist at Caesar’s Palace...Pisces. Am I being investigated?

GEORGE

Well I’m in Vegas on leisure purposes but I figure if I’m going to be rubbing elbows in a men’s room with one of the biggest frauds in America, I might as well--

SIMON

(Doing a series of small, subtle hand gestures) Alright, listen here “George” I don’t know where you got your credentials, but I have a masters in Psychology from UCLA and a PHD in Psychotherapy from Stanford. I did my doctorate dissertation on the merits of hypnotherapy and I spent the first eight years of my professional career as a hypnotherapist. So why don’t you watch who you go around calling a fraud.

GEORGE

Well if you were so successful as a therapist, what made you decide to be a Las Vegas stage performer?

Suddenly a woman, blouse half untucked from her skirt, steps out of the stall Simon had been in and crosses to the door.

CHRISTIE

Break a leg tonight Simon. (Exits)

SIMON

Thanks Christie. (He looks back at George) Leisure purposes.

Simon winks at George and begins to exit.

GEORGE

Prove it then.

Simon stops and turns back around.

SIMON

(snaps his fingers) Sleep!

George’s head goes limp. Simon crosses back to him and unties George’s shoes.

Son of a bitch. Call me a fraud. Ask me to prove it.

Simon stands up and snaps his fingers.

Simon says wake up!

GEORGE

(gasps awake) How did you do that!?

SIMON

Trade secret my friend. Now, if you’ll excuse me--

GEORGE

Can I try it?

SIMON

You don’t know how.

GEORGE

I think I saw how you did it.

SIMON

I don’t think you did.

George starts doing a series of subtle gestures.

GEORGE

I’m an investigative reporter, remember? I’ve learned to be very observant.

SIMON

It’s an extremely delicate art. It took me years to learn how to do it seamlessly. And besides: even if you could put me under, you still wouldn’t know how to--

GEORGE

(snaps his fingers) Sleep!

Simon goes completely limp and drops to the floor.

Oh my God, he’s out cold.

Simon’s eyes open and he addresses the audience.

SIMON

Ladies and gentlemen, do we have quite the treat for you this evening. May I introduce you to tonight’s guest: The Lovely Idiot, Mr. George Clifford. Not bad for his first try, I must say--though I do wish he’d left me with a little dignity. Let’s give him a round of applause.

GEORGE

(waving a hand in front of Simon’s eyes)

I don’t even think he’s faking.

SIMON

Oh, but I wish I was. Because what our friend George here is about to realize…

GEORGE

Alright well uh…(snaps his fingers) wake up!

SIMON

...is that he doesn’t know how to bring me back out.

GEORGE

...Simon? (Beat)

He shakes Simon by his jacket.

Simon. (shakes again) Simon!

SIMON

Now with just under thirty minutes until tonight's show, the clock is truly ticking before poor George here becomes responsible for the death of my legendary career.

GEORGE

Oh God uh…

George looks frantically around the room. He drags Simon across the floor and props him up against a stall.

SIMON

Unfortunately the only man who could possibly help him is currently on the bathroom floor.

GEORGE

Ok George, think. This is going to be fine. You know what to do.

SIMON

He doesn’t.

George searches the room. He sees his reflection in the mirror. Beat. Looks at Simon. Beat. Looks back at his reflection.

George has just had a...terrible idea.

George hurriedly removes and dons Simon’s jacket. He shoves his hands in the pockets and discovers a pair of sunglasses that he quickly puts on. He stands and poses in the mirror.

He is trying to convince even himself.

GEORGE

Ladies and gentlemen! I...am The Amazing Simon Saz!

SIMON

I do not sound like that!

GEORGE

No. I look like an idiot. This outfit is ridiculous.

SIMON

Maybe on you…

George takes off the getup and begins struggling to put it back on Simon’s limp body.

GEORGE

Good lord. This is like dealing with a toddler.

SIMON

Tell me about it. He doesn’t stop asking questions, plays dress-up, can’t figure out how to snap his fingers…

GEORGE

God this is impossible!

SIMON

Oh, he meant me. I’m the toddler.

George once again begins shaking Simon by his shirt collar.

GEORGE

I wish I could just make you stand up. Stand up! Stand up!

George snaps his fingers. Simon stands.

SIMON

Ladies and Gentlemen, it would seem our friend George has just made a breakthrough. Let’s see what he does with his new power, shall we?

GEORGE

Ok. Ok this is good. I can do something with this. Uh…

He puts the jacket back on Simon.

SIMON

Wow, putting my jacket back on. inspired! Just wait until the boys at the Times hear about this!

George stands back to look at Simon. Beat.

GEORGE

(snaps)

Dance!

Simon begins tap dancing.

SIMON

Alright! Now we’re talking ladies and gentlemen!

GEORGE

God man, I hope you don’t do this with the women you pick up.

SIMON

(still dancing)

Hey! I resent the implication that I would ever use my powers for evil. The Amazing Simon Saz may be promiscuous, but he is not a predator.

GEORGE

Wait a second. Women. Women!

SIMON

Seems he’s just remembered women. Guess he’d forgotten. I have that effect on some people.

GEORGE

Christie!

He begins to run out of the room, but trips on his untied shoelaces and falls. Looks at his shoes. Looks at Simon. Simon laughs.

When did you-- Jackass.

He quickly ties his shoes and exits. Simon is still dancing. Beat. George comes back in.

GEORGE

Uh...hold still! (snaps)

Simon stops dancing. George looks around the room, then shoves Simon into a stall, closes it, and exits.

SIMON

Now, ladies and gentlemen, comes the part of our performance where I patiently wait inside a restroom stall for God knows how long. It seems our friend George has little flare for showmanship. Any and all complaints about George can and should be issued to the New York Times board of--

The bathroom door swings open as George enters pulling Christie by the arm.

CHRISTIE

What do you want from me, asshole! I have mace!

SIMON

Oh good! Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce Christie the bartender!

GEORGE

(pulling Simon out of the stall) Look at him!

Christie looks at Simon. Beat. Looks at George. Beat.

CHRISTIE

And?

GEORGE

Watch. (snaps) Dance! (Simon starts dancing) (snaps) Stop! (Simon stops) (snaps) Charleston! (Simon does the Charleston) See!

CHRISTIE

Ok, this is a very cute little floor show the two of you put together in the men’s room but I really have to--

GEORGE

No no! He’s hypnotized!

SIMON

Awh. She called us cute.

CHRISTIE

He hypnotized himself?

GEORGE

No, I hypnotized him. (snaps) stop! (Simon stops)

CHRISTIE

I don’t believe you.

SIMON

I’m as surprised as you are. I mean he doesn’t even have a silly little outfit.

GEORGE

Prove it yourself. Uh...say something in his ear. Something he’d react to.

CHRISTIE

Uh...ok...hey Simon,

She whispers something inaudibly in his ear.

SIMON

Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m blushing.

Christie steps back and looks Simon up and down.

CHRISTIE

Oh yeah. That should’ve--yeah he’s definitely out.

GEORGE

What do we do!?

CHRISTIE

I don’t know! This has never happened before. Uh…

She begins shaking Simon violently by his jacket.

SIMON! SIMON SAZ! THE AMAZING SIMON SAZ! WAKE UP!

GEORGE

Stop! Stop. I already tried that.

SIMON

Good Lord the pipes on her. This woman’s talents are being wasted behind that bar.

CHRISTIE

Well did you already try…

She slaps Simon.

GEORGE and SIMON

Christie!

CHRISTIE

Sorry. What about just...(snaps) wake up!

SIMON

Ah ah ah. Not just any lover’s touch will do.

GEORGE

I think he’ll only answer to me. Besides, that doesn’t work anyway. I think it’s something more complicated. Some kind of magic words or something.

SIMON

You know what? I’m hurt. Did neither of you pay any attention to my show?

CHRISTIE

Talk about flare for the dramatic. Of course it wouldn’t be easy to wake up The Amazing Simon Saz.

Christie and George look at each other.

CHRISTIE and GEORGE

Simon Says!

SIMON

Ding ding ding! Ladies and Gentlemen, they finally got it!

GEORGE

(snaps) Simon says wake up!

SIMON

Watch this one ladies and gentlemen. (gasps awake) George!

He falls dramatically into George’s arms.

That was incredible George! No one’s ever hypnotized me before!

CHRISTIE

Do you remember anything?

SIMON

No nothing...except I have the strangest urge to ask you what time your shift is over.

Christie groans, rolls her eyes, and exits.

George! You’re a natural. We could be a double act! Just think of the women George!

GEORGE

Are you kidding? I have everything I need for my article.

George begins to leave.

SIMON

Oh no, am I ruined?

GEORGE

Ruined? You’re a legend!

George exits. Beat.

SIMON

A legend? (Beat) Damn right.

Simon winks at the audience and exits.

END OF PLAY.

#writing #creative writing #play #theater #drama #one act play #one act #short play #ten minute play #hypnotism #hypnosis #comedy #farce #farcical #farcical comedy #farcical play #playwriting #commission #writing commissions #mine #original work

[verus-veritas]

Male Transformation Blog: “Step By Step”

A longer story by “Bill Rowan”. A slow start, but there’s lots of details and pretty sweet love story. Made some changes to the pronouns to suit my taste, but all credits still go to the original writer! /Verus

This is Brad in a picture he posted when he was running for senior class president.  He is the hottest and most popular jock in school and I’m absolutely in love with him or should I say I am absolutely in love with his body and wish it were mine? Unfortunately one person can’t become another, no matter how much a person wants that to happen. Ah but I look at Brad and all I can do is wish so hard… so hard I had that body.

One day I am walking down the hall and not really looking out where I am going when I bump into Brad. My heart nearly stops when my eyes look upon that perfect model of young maleness and all I can do is hope that he doesn’t notice how bothered I am getting.

“So…so…sorry Brad.” I manage to stutter out, just too awed to say anything else.

“Watch where you’re going next time dweeb.” Glaring at me, he walks away laughing with his friends. I guess I will be the butt of his clique’s jokes for the next thousand years or so. 

Leonard helps me to my feet. He and Brad used to be a couple, and according to everyone at school they were the perfect couple until douchebag Brad decided to cheat on him with one of the quarterbacks. He didn’t deserve that as he is one of the nicest people I have met. He will talk to me pleasantly instead of making fun of me. 

“Are you alright, man?” His voice has a genuine ring of concern in it and oh how I wish he was in love with me instead of Brad. I guess that is one more reason I am so envious of Brad and want to be him. I would never hurt Leonard’s feelings or break his heart.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” I can feel my face becoming hot with embarrassment. I must be sixteen shades of red and I keep my eyes focused on the floor for fear that he will see the longing in my eyes. If only you were mine… 

“You know Sam that you are so much nicer than Brad. You really shouldn’t envy him so much.” What? How could he possibly know how I feel about Brad? He laughs. 

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. In fact, maybe we can do something about that desire you have. Come over to my house later, say around seven. See you then.” Did he just invite me to his house? Suddenly I’m walking on air, my day having just brightened by infinite degrees just from him asking me to his house. Wait… is he playing some sort of joke on me? Why would someone like Leonard who could have any guy he wanted easily, ask a nobody like me to his house?

The rest of the day drags as I can’t wait to go to his house, even if he is just playing a joke on me. But somehow I can’t see him as the type of person to be that cruel. I don’t think Brad will ever know just how much he lost when he broke that handsome and sweet boy’s heart.

Seven comes and I am standing at his doorstep. His house is a very old Victorian style mini-mansion. At Halloween it is the creepiest house on the street but today in fading sun of fall it is quite magnificent and not scary at all. I ring the doorbell. When the door opens Leonard is standing there smiling at me.

“Come in, Sam. My parents have gone out for the evening so we have the house to ourselves.” He ushers me inside and I lose my breath as I behold the grandeur.

“Thanks Leonard. You have a beautiful home.” How dorky does that sound?

He laughs and his face lights up with a most handsome smile. 

“Please call me Leon. Leonard is just so strange sounding all the time, especially from a friend like you.” He considers me his friend? Be still my beating heart!

“Come on, man. Let’s go up to my room. I have a surprise for you.” Can this day get any better? I follow him up the stairs until we come to a door at the end of the hall. This must be his room. Dummy… of course it’s his room. Duh. He takes my hand and leads me to the biggest bed I have ever seen. “Sit.” 

Me sit on his bed? My heart starts to race as he sits next to me. How can he not know I am in love with him? Maybe he does and he is just ignoring it so he won’t hurt my feelings. He would never hurt my feelings. We chat for a while until the clock in the hall strikes ten. Where has the time gone?

“Would you like something to drink? Of course you would.” He hands me a big glass of what looks like water but has a sweet taste as I eagerly gulp it down my parched throat. I guess all that talking must have dried it out. He goes over to a table and picks something up then comes back to me, handing me a black vest. 

“This used to be Brad’s. Want to try it on?” Try Brad’s vest on? As kinky as that sounds I actually am quite eager to wear something so personal to my idol. I take my own shirt off, exposing my pitiful excuse of a chest, and pull the vest over my head. It is way too big for my scrawny torso and I am absolutely swimming in fabric. A strange twinge goes through my body and my little Sammy (yes, even that is little) feels very odd. Just as quickly though everything returns to normal and Leon is helping me out of Brad’s vest and on with my own shirt. He hands me the vest, now neatly folded and in a bag. 

“Here take this with you.” He is giving me Brad’s vest? Why?

We walk back downstairs and he kisses me sweetly on the cheek as he sees me out the door. “See you tomorrow in school Sam. Pleasant dreams.”

I’m flabbergasted from the kiss and can barely squeak out “Thanks... Leon. Have a good night.” Can I sound any dorkier? He laughs again and closes the door as I start my way home. Brad you’re such an idiot for letting that guy get away from you.

I get home and immediately rush to my room, saying goodnight to my parents so I can check out my treasure. Brad’s vest has now become my most prized possession, not just because it is something personal of Brad’s, but because Leon gave it to me. This is a night I will long remember.

I undress and go to bed, falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. Strange dreams haunt my sleep but when I wake in the morning I can’t remember any of them. It’s time to get ready for school.

I head into the bathroom to start my morning ritual: pee, brush my teeth and rinse, take a shower, and get dressed. I whip little Sammy out but something is very odd this morning. I can’t feel my hands touching my penis. Instead I am feeling very aroused as though I am stroking myself into a frenzy yet Sammy is as flaccid as he can possibly be. The feeling dissipates and I start to pee but I still can’t feel my hands on my Sammy. Is there something wrong with my dick? I start to brush my teeth and as I do so I begin to experience warmth on my body like warm water running down my body. What is happening this morning? I finish up, get dressed, and head downstairs to eat breakfast. My mom pours the oatmeal into the bowl but I’m not feeling all that hungry for some reason. In fact my stomach would probably wretch if I tried eating so I just grab my gear and head to school.

The halls are amazingly quiet this morning. Usually Brad and his buddies are holding court by their lockers before class but not today. I start to head to homeroom when Leon comes running up.

“Good morning, man. How are you feeling today?”

“Hi Leon. Okay I guess.”

“Rumor has it that Brad is out sick, something about a touch of the flu. You should have a nice day without Brad here. See you in class.” That was odd. Why would he take the time to tell me Brad wasn’t feeling well? I nearly fall as I enter the classroom. I can’t sense myself walking. Rather my legs seem like they are stretched out under some sort of covering. My body is doing very strange things today. I make it over to my chair but I still can’t tell what my legs are doing unless I look directly at them. I can tell I am sitting in the chair but I sure feel like I am lying down instead.

The day goes by somewhat normally, albeit without the usual bullying from Brad and company. Normal that is until lunchtime comes. I’ve gotten somewhat used to not feeling anything from the waist down and I can compensate for that when I walk or sit but now my torso is beginning to go numb. Well, not exactly numb but what I am feeling is beyond anything possible. I rush to the bathroom as fast as I can possibly go under the circumstances. Fortunately no one is in there and I lock the stall as I enter in. I lift up my shirt to see if there is something wrong with my stomach. Nope. Same old skinny stomach, except I am feeling tightness like rock hard abs.

I sit on the toilet to relax, hoping this sensation will pass. Instead I begin to moan. My dick is being stroked into orgasm by invisible hands and with no sign of stirring showing. Suddenly I can feel a blissful release as I spew load after load. Except when I look down I am perfectly dry, no sign of any jerk off session anywhere. Still my mind is coming off a high I have never had before in my life.

I hurry out of the bathroom and to the nurse’s office, telling her I am not feeling well and need to go home. My afternoon is mostly study halls and gym so she OKs the permission slip and I head home as quickly as I can. Fortunately no one is home at my house so I drop my books and rush upstairs to my room.

My clothes are snug against my body yet when I look down they are just as baggy as they ever are. I strip but I still feel like I am wearing very form fitting attire. Whatever shirt I sense must be so tight that it shows off the two mounds of meat on my chest… except I have no upper body definition at all! I cannot feel my own body even as I run my hands up and down my torso. From the neck down I am numb as though I have been quick frozen. My brain however is telling me a different story. It is sending impulses to nerves in a very well developed body, the body of an athlete and as I stare at myself in the mirror I get a flashing image of a body I know all too well. Just for a moment I could swear I am looking at Brad!

The doorbell rings. I can’t answer naked so I go to the window and look down. Leon is standing at my door. Has school let out already? I holler down to him to come on in and up to my room. I better find my robe fast before…

*Leon walks in the door and I am still naked.*

“Don’t worry Sam. You don’t need to be embarrassed. This will all be over soon.” Huh? What will be over soon?

He locks the bedroom door and leads me to my bed. This situation does not seem to surprise him at all, almost as if he was expecting to find me this way.

“Lay down Sam. I don’t want you to fall down when the last wave hits.” What is he going on about?

“Last wave of what?” 

“-I told you yesterday that I had a surprise for you. Brad’s vest was only the beginning, a catalyst so to speak. You want to be him so very badly and I want revenge for his fling with that quarterback. We both win. In a few minutes you will completely possess Brad. You will be Brad, have his body, his knowledge, and all of his skills. But you will also have your own compassion mixed in so as Brad you will not be the jerk he is now. No one will be the wiser. I know how much you love me as well. We can be together, the perfect couple you and I. People will just think that he and I reconciled. Unfortunately when you possess Brad your body will be soulless and will die as though from a heart attack. Brad’s soul will be trapped in his own body, unable to do anything other than observe life through your eyes. Now close your eyes and sleep.”

This is all very shocking. How can someone possess another person’s body? I can’t worry about that now. I am just so sleepy. I can’t keep my eyes open. I….

“Brad! Brad wake up!” Huh? Whose voice is that? I am very disoriented and groggy. I open my eyes, only to find I am not in my own room. I turn my head towards the voice and I see Leon smiling at me. I smile back. I raise myself up so I am sitting in bed, Leon helping to support me. I feel so much heavier yet I feel an energy I have never known before. He swings my legs over the edge of the bed and helps me to stand. I am taller than him now, much taller! He guides me to a mirror where I can only gaze in amazement. The body I have longed to have for so long stares back at me. I am Brad. Leon tenderly kisses me on the lips.

“Welcome home, lover.”

#possession #bully #love #jock #permanent #mypost

[404gendernotfound]

Living with a Hybrid Part 9 (Hybrid!Taeyong x Reader)

Summary: Finally the day of the amusement park opening has come. Even though this should be the happiest day in some time there still lingers something on your mind the entire day. You try to enjoy the day even though some of your worst memories are coming back up after receiving a letter from a person you really didn’t want to think about.

Contains: fluff

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 3,5 K

Enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

________________________________________________________________

The next morning was beautiful like usually. Taeyong and I woke up that morning cuddling close since the night had been a bit cold and it was still too warm to turn the heat back on preparing for the winter coming soon. We had prepared everything we would need for the amusement park like little snacks, water and lots of different bags that could fit whatever we were to win at the lottery and different stands there. Johnny, Mark and Haechan agreed over text to join us at the opening that was scheduled around 1 pm today. It was still early as I looked at the clock showing we still had three hours til the event started at the park that was about 20 minutes away from the apartment. Everything was perfect until the post man had brought a letter that I really didn’t want to open. As Taeyong went to shower I sat at the kitchen table, the letter laying directly in front of me. I’ve already seen who it was from and I really didn’t want to open it. Especially not when I was about to have the greatest day at the amusement park with my friends and family. I stared at the letter thinking about what the person could have written and why now was the time to get this letter. I grabbed it and walked over to the trashcan. As I was about to throw it away I heard Taeyong come into the kitchen. I quickly hid it on top of the fridge and leaned against it trying not to act obvious that I just hid something from him. I’ll deal with that another time.

“Are you ok?”, he asked looking around the room as if he was searching for something.

“Yeah, I’m ok. Are you ready?”, I asked back trying to quickly change the conversation.

I shouldn’t be thinking about the letter. Today I should be a hundred percent focused on Taeyong and the amusement park. Nothing should come between that. He nodded at my question and I walked past him and towards the bedroom. As I arrived I walked over to the closet and looked through my clothes. It was still a bit cold outside right now but the weather forecast said that it would get warmer this afternoon. I chose a pair of jeans with a shirt and a hoodie that I could still take off if it would get too warm and then went to use the bathroom to get ready. After showering and doing a bit of make-up I walked into the living room to see that Taeyong was sitting on the couch watching something on his phone with headphones in his ears. I walked behind him to look over his shoulder at what he was looking so focused. I had to smile as I saw the video. It was an ASMR cooking video. I plopped down on the couch just to see Taeyong almost throw his phone away as he flinched and almost screamed. He took out his headphones and looked at me sighing and heavy breathing.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you ok?”, I asked noticing that I just almost startled this boy to death.

“I-I am ok. You just s-suddenly appeared out of nowhere. I just didn’t expect that”

He was still breathing heavy and I had to tell him to take a deep breath to calm him down again. As I succeeded I looked at him with curious eyes.

“You were watching ASMR cooking videos?”, I asked more like stating a fact.

“They are calming and I really like food. It’s a great combination.”, he explained and handed the phone to me and put one of his airpods into my ear and started the video again.

He was right. The voice of the girl explaining how to make the perfect steak was really calming and the sounds she was making with the tools she used were causing my body to have goose bumps all over. It really was calming and relaxing. We watched the video together until it ended with Taeyongs head resting on my shoulder while I held his phone for both of us to see.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course”

“But you have to promise that you don’t get mad, ok?”, he asked and looked at me waiting for my answer.

“I promise”

He took a deep breath before he began to speak again.

“I always watch these videos when I get anxious or when I have bad memories again. I didn’t want to burden you with my problems so I didn’t tell you”

“Since when do you have them again?”

“A bit over a week maybe…”

His head was hanging low now and he had hidden his hands in his hoodie. I placed my hand on his shoulder and softly pat it. It wasn’t like I was mad at him. It was just that I was kind of disappointed that he didn’t entrust me with his worries and problems since I always told him that he could tell me every little thing on his mind that might burden him.

“It’s ok. I’m not mad even though I’m a little bit sad that you didn’t come to me but that’s fine. As long as you’re ok”, I assured him and showed him a smile.

“Well you were so happy after Haechan went to live with Johnny and Mark and I thought that sharing my feelings with you would just bring you down…and…I really like seeing you all smiley and happy”, he admitted and looked at me with his puppy eyes.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll always listen to you and I’ll try everything to help you. You know…you’re the reason I smile every day so I’d like to be the reason for your smile. So don’t hold back anything that roams your mind.”

Taeyong grabbed my hands and intertwined his fingers with mine. His gaze wandered from our hands up to my face and to my eyes. He leaned closer and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“Thank you for everything”, he whispered.

“Thank you for being with me”

I smiled at him and leaned my forehead against his. I loved intimate moments like this. We spend the time that was left until we had to go with watching random videos on Youtube and cooking our lunch together. After we ate we got ready to go. I grabbed the backpack we had prepared this morning and put on my shoes. Taeyong followed me shortly after. We went downstairs to the lobby and waited for the boys to show up. As the elevator arrived in the lobby, Haechan instantly ran towards me as the doors opened and his eyes spotted me. He jumped into my arms and hugged me tight. I had to giggle at his behavior.

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you since Tuesday”, Haechan complained and looked at me pouting.

“I had a lot of stuff to do at work and was pretty exhausted when I got home. I’m sorry I didn’t visit you more”, I apologized and ruffled his hair before turning to Johnny and Mark.

“He really missed you”, Johnny said as he hugged me.

“And you guys didn’t miss me at all?”, I asked towards Mark and Johnny and both of them grinned.

“Of course, we did. How could we not miss such a beautiful person?”, Mark joked and I noticed Taeyong tense next to me and moving closer.

I stepped closer to him and poked his side with my elbow. I smiled at him and mouthed “Jealous?” towards him. A slight blush appeared on his face and he grabbed my hand intertwining our fingers. The boys looked at me with a knowing look.

“Can we go now?”, Haechan asked totally excited and ready to go.

“Sure”, I laughed looking at this bundle of pure energy.

We made our way to the amusement park. On our way there a lot of people joined us and arrived with us at the venue. The entrance already was stunning. It looked like the entry of a castle with big steel doors that were decorated with flowers, balloons and even golden elements. I noticed Haechan and Taeyongs eyes sparkle and we went to buy the tickets. The tickets were about 20 $ per person which was a lot cheaper than I expected since the park was definitely huge, but we would still have to pay extra for the attractions in the park like the Ferris Wheel or the rollercoaster. They had a huge stage arranged at the entrance. The major of the city stood somewhere next to it and looked like he was going over his script again since it had been announced that he would be the one officially opening the park. We walked to the front to get a good view at the stage and waited for the festivities to start. Taeyong was still holding on to my hand and whenever I would look over at him I’d see him looking like the happiest boy in the world.

The crowd got even bigger just a few minutes before the major went on stage to deliver his speech. Everyone was listening closely and was fascinated by what he said about the park. As soon as his speech was over everybody cheered and the crowd scattered around the park. We looked at one of the park plans that showed our location and what was where to find.

“Can we go to the haunted house first?”, Haechan asked jumping up and down excited.

I noticed Taeyong tense next to me. I somehow understood what was going on inside him and decided to suggest another plan.

“How about we start with the nearest attraction and work our way through til the end?”

Haechan slightly frowned but then agreed after Johnny and Mark convinced him. The first thing on our way was a shooting stall. Johnny instantly walked over and bought a few bullets to try and get a gift for Mark and Haechan. From his 7 tries he hit all of the targets he focused on and was able to choose from one of the more expensive prices. He could choose between a little plush golden retriever, a few other plushies and a really cool looking hat that would look great on Mark. Johnny chose the hat which made Haechan frown a bit. His eyes lit up again when Johnny bought another set of bullets and hit every target again just to get Haechan the golden retriever plushy.

“Thank you”, Haechan said almost starting to cry as he hugged the little dog in his arms and smiled at Johnny who ruffled his hair playfully.

“You’re welcome, Haechanie”

Taeyong looked at them almost with jealousy in his eyes. I would instantly go and shoot him a plushy too but I was just really bad at hitting targets.

“I’ll get you something, too. Don’t worry”, I said and squeezed his hand.

He just nodded and we walked to the next thing on our way. It was a free fall tower. I wasn’t really good with heights but I wouldn’t say no if the boys decided to do it. After going back and forth discussing if we wanted to go Johnny decided to stay and take care of our bags while Mark, Haechan, Taeyong and I went on the ride. To be honest I was pretty scared after we had bought the tickets and got called over to take a seat on this hellride.

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?”, Taeyong asked me concerned after he noticed my legs starting to shake.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me”

To be honest I was terrified, but at the same time I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to share the first ride on a free fall tower with Taeyong. After we were fully prepared to be send up to the top, the “elevator” in which we sat brought us up. Looking down was already making me nearly pee my pants, while Taeyong, Mark and Haechan didn’t even seem bothered by it. As soon as the construction dropped us down to the floor all of us where screaming. Some from excitement others (like me) from pure fear. As we finally sat our feat back onto the floor I ran out and searched for the next toilet to empty my stomach in. It wasn’t far. Thank God. As soon as I entered the cabin my stomach was empty and all I had eaten today was in front of me in the toilet. Who told me this was a good idea? I flushed the mess down and walked outside to clean my mouth and wash my face. Looking in the mirror I saw my pale face.

“Brain why? This sounded so fun but it was a big mistake”, I said to myself and laughed as someone came out from another cabin and saw me talking to the mirror like I was crazy.

I walked back out just to see 4 worried men looking around searching for me. As they spotted me all of them sighed relieved and I just send them an awkward smile as I walked over.

“I’ll be fine my ass”, Mark laughed playfully hitting my shoulder.

“I was worried about you as you suddenly ran. I told you this was a bad idea but you didn’t want to listen to me”, Taeyong scolded me before pulling me into a hug and kissing my forehead.

“Don’t force yourself, ok?”

“Ok. I’m sorry I made you worry”, I hugged back and nuzzled my nose against his.

“Enough being lovey-dovey. Let’s move on. There’s a lottery stand over there and I can see stuffed animals”, Haechan complained and as soon as Taeyong heard stuffed animals he was gone immediately.

That boy and stuffed animals. We followed the two excited hybrids to the stand and watched them look at all the prizes fascinated. I walked to the lady handing out the lottery tickets and bought 40 tickets for Taeyong and 40 for Haechan. We then sat down on one of the benches nearby and started looking through the tickets for wins. After what felt like seconds all the tickets had been sorted out and we had some little wins and 2 first prices. We split them so that Haechan and Taeyong could get one each. We walked over to the booth and showed the win tickets to one of the employees there.

“Oh, we have two first prices here”, they announced over the mic and then turned towards Taeyong and Haechan.

“What would you guys like?”, they asked and showed them the first prices they could choose from.

Haechan instantly chose a big white alpaca which he instantly hugged as he received it from the employee. Taeyong seemed to have a more difficult decision. He took his time before he chose a big white teddy bear. As he received it he turned towards me and handed it over. I looked at him confused.

“This is for you”, he mumbled, his cheeks slightly pink.

“I can’t accept that. It’s your prize and you look cute with it so keep it. It’s my way of saying thank you”, I said.

He blushed even more and shook his head. I looked at the bear in my arms and handed it back to him. Taeyong grabbed it and slightly frowned.

“But I won this with your money. So it technically is yours already”, he reasoned and pouted as he looked at the bear.

I sighed and stepped closer to the boy. He looked at me as if I just rejected him. I couldn’t see him like this. I reached my arm out to put it around his shoulder and pulled him closer to me.

“How about we say this is our teddy? Would you be satisfied with that?”, I suggested and watched his face as he thought about an answer.

Taeyong just simply nodded and then looked at the teddy. He moved it to his ear and then looked back at me.

“Teddy said he would be really happy about that”, Taeyong joked and I almost died from his cuteness.

“Dork”

He laughed and hugged the teddy tight before he grabbed my hand again and pulled me towards the next part of the park. My heart melted looking at the happy boy next to me. It reminded me of myself when I first visited an amusement park with my parents. As I thought back at those happy days I remembered the letter from this morning. I quickly tried to shove that memory far back in my mind so I could keep my focus on the presence.

We went on a few more rides like the roller coaster and the bumper car ride. Taeyong insisted on getting cotton candy and I chose the pink one for him. His cheeks turned a slight pink as I he saw that. I knew that he was thinking about my comment yesterday as he blushed and I complimented him. He really did look good with anything pink. One of our last stations was the haunted house that Haechan insisted on going in. We made a bet that whoever got scared first would have to pay for our last station at the park, the Ferris Wheel.

“Oh it’s on. I won’t even flinch”, Mark said fearless.

I was sure that he would be the one to pay since whenever he said something fearless he would be the first one to nearly pee his pants. He was a scaredy-cat just like me so there was no way that he wouldn’t flinch at all.

“We’ll see that”, I laughed and looked at Taeyong who was squeezing my hand.

“Scared?”, I asked and he shook his head quickly.

He definitely looked scared.

“I got you”, I whispered and saw a smile appear on his face.

We entered the haunted house and shortly after the first guy with a chainsaw appeared Marks confidence was gone. We first laughed about it but then soon followed his terrified screams as we tried to get out of there as quick as possible. As we finally got out all of us panted heavily and I almost felt as if my voice would give up on me as I started to speak again.

“That means Mark will pay the tickets”, I said still catching my breath.

Mark sighed and lifted his arms in defeat.

“Even a man of steel might get scared sometimes”, he joked and received a slap on his shoulder from Johnny.

“Mr. ‘I’m so brave’. You should think before you speak next time, love.”, he commented and put his arm around Mark.

“I knew he would lose”, Haechan laughed and shrugged as Mark threw him an angry glance.

We joined in his laughter and then walked towards the Ferris Wheel. It was slowly getting darker and the sun was about to set soon. We bought some hotdogs at a stand nearby to kill some time before going on the Ferris Wheel. The city would probably look really pretty with the sky painted by the sunset. The cabins were big enough to fit all of us in one. Taeyong sat next to me while Haechan, Mark and Johnny sat on the other side facing us. As the ride started the cabin slowly moved up. As we reached the highest point it stopped. The view over the city was absolutely beautiful. We were able to see the apartment complex and the sunset painted the nearby lake in a beautiful mix of red, orange and the blue water. It was perfect. Taeyong put his arm around my shoulder pulling me closer to him.

“I can see our apartment”, Haechan said excited as he sat there, glued to the window.

We all had to laugh at his behavior. He was just too cute. We enjoyed the rest of the ride in silence watching the sky turn from beautiful colors back to black. As we arrived back on the ground we left the cabin and made our way to the main entrance again. We walked all the way back to the apartment complex. The closer we came the more I realized that when I would get there I had to open the letter. I didn’t want to but I couldn’t avoid it any longer. What if something happened? I needed to get clearance on that. We arrived at the lobby and got into the elevator together.

“I’m tired”, Taeyong said next to me and yawned.

“Me too”, I whispered back and stared at the elevator door.

Johnny, Mark and Haechan parted ways with us as they arrived the 3rd floor. We hugged them and waved goodbye as the doors closed again. Back at the apartment we took off our shoes and Taeyong instantly said he’d go to the bedroom. I put our bags onto the couch and went to the kitchen to grab the letter from the fridge. As I didn’t find it there I started to look around just to see Taeyong standing in the door with the letter in his hand.

Next Part

#nct #nct taeyong #nct 127 #nct 127 Taeyong #nct johnny #nct mark #nct haechan #nct fluff #fluff #kpop #hybrid taeyong #hybrid haechan #living with a hybrid #hybrid au #nct taeyong x reader #taeyong x reader #nct hybrid au

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 16

Work continues to drive me crazy, so of course I make my life more complicated by getting online classes set up for the fall. That, and I kinda don’t want to see our babies learn about Hughes. Blissful ignorance, am I right? *sigh* Onwards with Brotherhood.

Do we have captions this time? We do! Awesome, it was so irritating last time not knowing if I was mangling names or not. We’ve got the second intro featuring the Xing contingent, curious how influential it’ll be having a foreign prince bopping along with the Elrics. (Also, I continue to be juvenile and giggle at one of the lyrics in the new song being “shite”. Hee.) We open up with a bird's-eye view of Central, then with Ed yawning at the train station. Al mentions that being spied on for hours is pretty tiring. Right, Ling’s ninja squad don’t trust the Elrics. But where’s the Prince? The Ninjas proceed to freak the heck out, Fu runs around the traintops calling out for the young lord as Lan Fan worries about him collapsing. Is Ling fainting a common thing, then? Ed just shrugs his shoulders at the absence of the freeloader and heads off with Al and Winry. Huh, music’s getting ominous. Oh, there he is, doing a Brooding Anime Rooftop Stare on the station’s clock tower, looking towards the center of the city. [Ling]: “Something about this country doesn’t feel right.” Well, the current speculation (backed by the freaking Fuhrer being a Goth!) is that they’re sacrificing people to make Philosopher’s Stones, so… don’t know much about Xing so can’t say if they’re any better, but it’d be pretty hard for them to be worse. Episode 16 - “Footsteps of a Comrade-in-Arms” In a run-down area of the city, a car stops and the blond-haired smoking guy (Havoc?) of Roy’s crew is checking in with the grey-haired member (I’ll get their names some day, I swear), dropping off food from the colonel. Oh, guess Grey’s been guarding Barry, who cheerfully recognizes “the smokin’ guy”. Not tied up and playing chess? Are they keeping him prisoner to try and get more info or more protecting their only source? Well, I suppose for a serial killer like Barry being kept inside at night and denied any chances to chop someone up would be uncomfortable. Still, Grey’s bored with the assignment, asks how much longer it’ll be. Havoc just says that Roy apologizes for the dangerous assignment, that Grey’s absence it being treated as sick leave… and if he’s seen in public by anyone he’ll get court-martialed. Yikes, ok then. No breaks for poor Grey. Any good news? [Havoc]: “Falman, I found myself a girlfriend!” ...well that’s nice and all for you, buddy, but I think Falman (thank you!) was looking for good news for him. Poor, poor Falman. Hey, it’s Ling! Taking another impromptu nap? A couple of cops are asking if he’s ok, he whispers about food… ah, trying for another free meal? Unfortunately for Ling, the cops less interested in feeding him and more interested in seeing his entry visa. Cue irritated cops dragging a crying Prince away. [Cop 1]: “Outta the way, everyone!” [Cop 2]: “Illegal alien coming through!” The Ninjas continue to freak over the absent master, while Ed says that they should stop by the military offices. Winry… decides to go straight to the Hughes’ house. Oh boy. [Winry]: “I can’t wait to see Miss Gracia and cute little Elicia!” Uuuuuugh. Make it stooooop. The Brothers are off to meet up with Hughes himself, while they think Hughes might have been stymied by Bradley’s orders to stand down they have info on the Homunculi now (and still don’t know the Fuhrer himself is one, gah!). Off to the court-martial office! Quiet somber music as the brothers run through the park. And right by the phone booth that Hughes was murdered in. Bleh this episode is not going easy. In the office, Sheska’s carrying around some books when another lady officer asks for a key to Room #3. Which freaks Sheska out, and she babbles about cleaning up the mess first? What, have you made that your private reading lair or something? Nope, not your lair it seems, but Colonel Mustang’s private napping chamber. Yikes, hope you had an alarm set, and it only wasn’t Sheska waking you that kept you from being late to a freaking Council Meeting. Wait, Council? I don’t think I’ve heard of that group before, I’m just assuming by the tendency for Anime Councils to be Big Deals that it’s the same in the FMA universe. The highest-ranking officers of the military? Sheska worries that Roy’s not getting enough sleep, he just waves her off and goes to the meeting. Staying up late doing research on the conspiracy, I gue- GAH new voice! Sheska freaks and identifies them as Captain Focker, who asks about the open storeroom and what Roy was doing. Uh oh, a watcher sent by Bradley? Double uh oh, in her concern for Roy’s state Sheska is telling Focker about how he seems to be researching the Fifth Laboratory. And the Hughes case. Bleeeeeh, more Hughes feels as Sheska gets sad about her getting her job through Hughes. Captain Focker walks away deep in thought, glasses obscuring his eyes. Uh oh. But then the looks up in surpr- That’s Captain Focker! Oh my Leto, that’s the real Captain Focker! Real Focker’s too busy looking at some piece of paper to notice a shapechange and red electricity as Envy takes on a new disguise. Shapeshifters: A security nightmare.

But it looks like Envy might have made a mistake, as Real!Focker’s now saying good morning to Sheska, who is rightly confused. A simple “Laugh at this clueless character” moment, or a break for the good guys? Roy’s washing up in a bathroom for this Council Meeting, takes a moment to stare mournfully into the mirror- until with a flush of a toilet his angsting is interrupted by The Mighty Armstrong, glinting manfully in his bandages while towering over the stall door. Hah! Armstrong remarks that Roy looks a bit peakish, who asks why Armstrong is bandaged. Oh right, Armstrong was involved in killing all of Greed’s human-chimera crew down South. He mentions that he ran into the Elrics down there, on their visit to their old teacher. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell them about Hughes. Armstrong makes his way out- [Roy]: “The Fifth Laboratory and the Philosopher’s Stone; the Stone’s key ingredients are live humans.” Armstrong comes to a halt. Roy continues about how Hughes died following up on the Elric brothers’ investigation, and how if/when they find out they’ll blame themselves. He says Armstrong not telling them was kind, and Armstrong compliments him on figuring out so much. But warns him that he never knows who might be listening. Riza’s waiting out in the hallway when Ed walks up and says hi, although he’s not as happy when Roy joins them. Oh yeah, Elric didn’t know about Roy’s promotion. Now if he’s hanging out in Central it’ll be the same place as good old Colonel Mustang. The sarcasm in Ed’s “Great” is astounding. As for the Elrics, they’re just doing some information gathering. And might pay Hughes a visit later in the day. Where is he, anyway? Roy… says that Hughes retired. Went out to the country with his family to run the family business. Really, dude? I get that it’s a sore subject, but the “he went out to the farm” excuse only works for so long. They deserve to know what happened. Well, with the false story the boys think that they should tell Winry, they spin around only to run into Lieutenant Ross. She asks about the rush, Ed mentions that they heard about Hughes… and Ross isn’t in on the “tell them the farm story” excuse. Oh boy. Uuuugh, the two conversations sliding right past each other here is painful! And here’s the kicker: [Al]: “He retired to the country and they promoted him?” Ross realises she did a no-no, covers her mouth to keep from saying anything else. And Ed realizes the truth. Mid-episode cards: Captain Focker with an Envy silhouette behind him, and a downcast Gracia Hughes on the second. Notable for both Narrator “Full-Metal Alchemists” being the sad, somber one. Out in the city, Winry’s shopping for apples, presumably to give to the Hughes’ family. And Ed races out of the building after hearing the new. [Lt. Ross]: “Brigadier General Hughes is dead… He was murdered shortly after you were discharged from the hospital, Edward. I’m afraid we still haven’t found the person responsible.” As he runs and cries, Ed blames himself for pulling Hughes into the investigation. Flashes of Happy Hughes and his family, a memory of Hughes seeing them off at the train station and inviting them to drop by again, hosting dinner, first meeting them and inviting them to his home… Al catches up with the suitcase and then stands there silently as Ed slumps against the wall. And now we’re with Winry, who’s arriving at the apartment. The door swings open- [Elicia]: “Daddy?!” Oh no, that’s fine. I didn’t need that heart anyway, go ahead and use it as a footrest show. The Elrics have arrived at the apartment building, when Al asks what they should do Ed tells him to go back, that he’s “the only one who has to take the blame for what happened.” Oh my Leto kid you have enough self-imposed guilt from Mama Elric and Nina, stop taking the weight of the world on your shoulders! Al argues that it’s on both of them, and double all my protests that Ed does not deserve this for his little brother as well. Ed tries to dissuade Al again- [Al]: “We made up our minds; We said we were getting our bodies back, no matter what. But if people are going to die because of that… then I don’t want mine back.”

Freaking A, Al. I cannot overstate how much damn respect I feel for you right now. You are a poor boy, trapped in a cold metal body from a horrible accident. Getting your body back has been your driving purpose, along with healing your brother. But when you discovered that the cost of making a Philosopher’s Stone was human sacrifice, you discarded the method. And when you discover that a friend has died in the process of helping your investigation, you are fully prepared to renounce your goal in order to protect others. I salute your selflessness. Gracia opens the door, and gives the Elrics the same sad smile that she gave Winry, telling the brothers that Winry’s already arrived. The mechanic’s sitting quietly in a chair with Elicia curled in her lap, she looks up with Ed quietly enters. Ed then asks to talk to Gracia and Winry about Maes. The quiet sad theme starts playing as Gracia recaps the Elrics’ message; that Hughes looked into the Philosopher’s Stone, and was killed as a warning against the brothers. Gracia looks down at sleeping Elicia, as Ed bows his head in grief and gasps out “sorry” again and again. [Gracia]: “That would be just like him, dying while trying to help someone else.” The Trio look up in surprise. [Gracia]: “My husband. He always was a busybody and a meddler, and it got him into trouble. A lot. But you know… I don’t think he ever had regrets. Not any… not even in his dying moments, Edward.” So many people to respect in this episode, seriously. Al being prepared to give up on getting his body back, and Gracia insisting that they can’t give up, or else Hughes died in vain. With a little smile, even. Forget about the dead end of the Stone, there still might be another way. [Gracia]: “You boys have to keep moving forward… any way you can.” The door closes as the Trio exit the apartment, Ed turns to look at the others- [Elicia]: “Mommy?... Mommy, please don’t cry.” ...damn you, show. Later in the day now, the sun is setting as the Trio walk through the streets to a sweeping cello melody. The Elrics see Winry to a hotel room, and then go to their own. Right, because they… used to stay at the Hughes’ residence. Winry’s quietly resting on her bed, Al’s sitting in the living room, and Ed’s downstairs in the restaurant too upset to eat. Now he’s knocking on Winry’s door, asking if she’s eaten yet, and she should hurry because the dining room is closing soon. The parallels are strong here: when they were children the Rockbell’s fed the Elrics, and now Ed’s trying to make sure Winry keeps up her strength now. When Winry doesn’t make a move Ed excuses himself to his room, but Winry grabs his automail hand. Aw, aw no. She still has the basket of apples she was planning to take to the Hughes’ family. Seems she was planning to make apple pie. And had hoped that Mr. Hughes would get to try some too. Winry cries as the screen fades to black. WOW OK talk about rough transitions, we’ve got Chimeras in cages. And eff you it’s the Goths, Lust leaning on Gluttony as she talks with still-disguised Envy. Now they know that Roy’s been looking into the matter, and may have found some things out. Lust gripes that they orchestrated Roy’s move to Central to keep a closer eye on him, and it’d be a waste to lose an important sacrifice candidate. Wait… [Envy]: “Haven’t been able to learn anything from your new boyfriend?” Aw hell no, I’d thought that Havoc gushing about having a girlfriend was just a little joke at the beginning of the episode, like a running gag about his relationships or something. You’re telling me Lust is playing Havoc? Run dude, run! Lust goes off to gather more info, calls for Gluttony like a loyal little attack dog. Envy chides Gluttony for leaving some bones scattered around… but then gets an idea. Uh oh, we’ve got string music as Envy suggests making another “play”, giving Roy a bone to chew. What are you up to? We’re at what appears to be a cafeteria now, when someone comes up and taps Lieutenant Ross on the shoulder, introducing himself as Henry Douglas from the Provost Marshal’s office. Flanked by goons, he says that Ross has to come along with them, and demands her gun? Wait, is Ross being arrested? Brosh, where the heck are you, come defend your partner! Whoa whoa what?! They’re accusing Ross for Hughes’ murder?! What the heck, how can you make that claim? What evidence do you have for that absurd claim? Besides… well, besides the shapeshifter accosting Hughes in the phone booth while looking like you… uh oh. Riza is updating Roy on the situation, saying that Ross (man, there are a lot of R-characters involved in this case, huh?) is pleading not-guilty on all charges. The Flame Alchemist just tells Riza to gather all the info on the suspect that she can, secretly. Dramatic string music continues as we see Havoc buying some flowers and then running along to his “hot date”, stubbing out his cigarette as yup, “Solaris” is Lust. Who demurely asks Havoc to sit down and tell her about his day. AAAAAAARGH! Ok then! Was putting off this episode because I knew there would be Feels about Hughes, and damn if it didn’t deliver. But like Gracia said, they can’t let Hughes’ death be in vain, and they can hardly just give up and let the killer go free. Speaking of, framing Ross? As if I didn’t have enough reasons to hate you jerks, Goths! Ugh, this is gonna get complicated, isn’t it?

#wmtw #where my twin watches #ranubis #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 16

[fourangers]

Some bad porn can turn out to be good (1/3)

Summary: “Why are you watching porn on broad daylight and…is this…is this a blond guy fucking a japanese man?” 

Who would have thought that porn watching could have such enlightening results. NaruSasu, blow job, anal sex, mutual pining without angst, Comedy, Romance, AU working in an advertisement agency. Some InoSaku.

AO3 link | ffnet link

--.--

Naruto was bored.

He already finished his very nutritional cup of ramen (it’s vegetable flavored, so it had all the necessary components for a complete meal right), played all the games he had in his smartphone and he still had more or less half an hour to kill. His friends were still busy with their work, the food court was completely empty and he wasn’t in the mood for a quick nap.

Wrinkling his nose, Naruto flipped his phone over and over, before letting it rest on the table, groaning. He was so bored. He already refreshed instagram like...thousand times and there wasn’t anything new. Same thing with facebook and twitter.

He took a long glance to the left, and then to the right. Moving to a table that was more or less placed at the corner of the room, he adjusted himself on his seat. Perhaps he could use this opportunity to relieve some tension caused by yesterday’s dream. After wasting long minutes browsing to fit exactly with his particular criteria, he widened his legs and clicked play.

⏤.⏤   

Sighing, Sasuke rubbed his eyes while he sent his e-mail. Finally, after struggling for hours he came up with a good slogan title, also wrote some short texts to be used on smaller pieces. He was famished and his take out meal was getting colder by the minute. Glancing at the clock, he went to the food court with bag in hand, glad that it was usually deserted in that hour.

He noticed in an instant the bright golden hair from afar and his steps veered in that direction, ready for a greeting. However, as he was approaching Naruto, he saw those blue eyes very focused on whatever thing was displayed on the smartphone, probably some video of some sort.

Usually in this case Sasuke would just give a quick acknowledgement, then he would eat in another table. While he was circling around to pat Naruto’s shoulder though, his eyes picked some suspicious rhythmical movement from the video. This dumbass couldn’t possibly...glaring, Sasuke grunted.

“Hey.”

“HOLY FU⏤” Naruto shrieked, jumping from his seat. He almost fell from his chair, turning around, gawking in disbelief. “What the fuck man, don’t scare me like that!”

Sasuke snorted, now that the smartphone dropped to the table, he could properly peruse the content inside it. “I can’t believe that you’re watching porn right now.”

“I-I⏤!” Naruto scrambled to pick his gadget, resisting the urge to flip the screen down. He raised his chin in defiance, grumbling. “I was bored.”

“You’re watching porn while on work.” There was no way he was mistaken what he was witnessing, with the top plunging the monstrous cock in the bottom’s round ass, and the well-rehearsed moans and grunts coming from those porn actors.

“Not at work!” Naruto defended himself, in earnest. “It’s my lunch time, and in this moment I can relax and take some time for myself.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Sasuke muttered, stomach making pleasant flips when he realized that Naruto was watching intercourse between two men . At last, all his queries concerning the blond’s sexuality were now answered. With some positive and unexpected addendums, as he perused the video closer. “Honestly, why are you watching porn on broad daylight and…is this…is this a blond guy fucking a japanese man?”

Sasuke was actually mildly impressed how Naruto managed to keep a poker face, despite blushing from head to toe. “Hey, it’s a free country you know. I can watch whatever the fuck I want.”

“...hn.” Interesting how that dumbass didn’t answer his question. Shifting, he placed one hand on the back of Naruto’s seat, whispering close to his ear. “I can’t believe that there are really people out there who would have watched porn on lunch time, this is a first for me.”

Naruto glowered back, raising his elbow to widen their gap as he stood up. “Yeah well, I have done nothing criminal, bastard. ‘Kay, lunchtime is over, gotta go.”

Sasuke huffed, cursing himself for this momentary lack of quick thinking to avoid such misunderstanding. Next time, instead of teasing Naruto, he should have offered himself to reenact that porn video.

⏤.⏤  

From the moment Naruto stepped in their ad agency, as corny as it might sound, Sasuke was smitten. Friendly, warm, an easygoing personality fitting with his wide grin and lively eyes.

His first impression towards other coworkers was vastly different though. Tall with a built physique, he had a undercut hair with earlobe expanders, leather bracelets, wearing a fitting black t-shirt that had a huge neon-orange skull drawing on it, complemented with a low cut shorts and a black belt adorned with small metal spikes. Everything about him screamed ‘Punk’, adding with fact that he had a gigantic japanese 9-tailed fox tattoo that started from his neck and covered his entire right arm, some piercings on his face and one barbell on the middle of his tongue (yes, Sasuke already pictured the tongue wrapping around his length). Naruto was quite an intimidating figure to say the least.

However, after just mere days working with him, people were quick to realize that his bright behavior really didn’t match to their preconceptions. He wasn’t one that shouted anarchy and burned books, but was rather the homey type that your mother would love to have him on Sunday lunches.

Once such knowledge sank in, a good number of suitors popped up from all spectrum of genders, much to Sasuke’s annoyance. There was a full-on investigation with some previous coworkers he used to work with, gossiping with friends and snooping around. There were many questions rather he was straight, or gay, maybe bi, all with inconclusive results.

Some rumors said that he was dating some woman who used to have a crush on him since forever, only to break up once he realized that he couldn’t really reciprocate her. Others said that he dated some childhood male friend for a very long time until it became lukewarm and they broke up in amicable terms. Whatever it was, he recently came out from a long relationship and wanted to take a break for now.

Sasuke could understand this, logically, comprehend even, and respected Naruto’s decision to cool down for a while. But as time kept passing by with soiled sheets, longing gazes, small crush turning into a Romance Angst 30 multi-chapter pining fanfiction, Sasuke concluded that, well, maybe it’s time to help Naruto moving on. Yes, turn a new page in his life, refresh, take a new path that it better have him included in this, hopefully as his new steady boyfriend in hand.

It’d be so much easier if Sasuke was only physically attracted to Naruto, not form any kind of attachment whatsoever. However, as he kept spending more time with this blond dumbass, he was getting increasingly enamoured with Naruto’s various facets. His genuine smiles even after he faced many adversities, his unyielding determination, his optimistic way of looking at life, everything.

And whenever he’d notice blue eyes clouded in contemplation, Sasuke really wanted to reach Naruto out and tell him that it’s ok to reveal the darkness in his heart.

Once Sasuke came to term with his feelings towards Naruto, it appeared he only had this simple task of asking him out, right. Well…the biggest problem was that Naruto was the densest idiot that had ever graced in his life. People could practically throw themselves on his lap and he’d wonder if they were having a heart attack or something. Sasuke himself had his own fair share of failed attempts of flirting with no significant results, that blond moron only thought that his teasing was out of friendly competition, nothing more.

Almost a whole fucking year have passed, frustration amounting in each day. For someone who was really talkative, Naruto kept his personal life pretty much in private. And even if he’s really expressive, Sasuke had a hard time reading if Naruto was into him.

In a last desperate resort, Sasuke tried to use their company’s annual party to get some answers, any answer. Whether Naruto was into guys, or he’s just a straight blond dumbass, or he had anyone he might fancy, hopefully Sasuke would gear this situation to more fruitful results.

Company parties brew all kinds of miracles and chaos, uncovering burrowed secrets, with many twists and turns that provided enough gossip material for a month. It loosens up any uptight person into the biggest diva in those party. It even revealed many facets of a person, as Sasuke could never forget how Sakura ended up making out with her supposed “best friend” Ino, occupying the bathroom for long, long hours, only to return both disheveled and flushed. (they began dating from that day onward) This was a good opportunity to get closer to Naruto while they both get drunk as skunk.

Unfortunately for him, Naruto, who was forever the 100% boy scout, promised the ladies to drive them safely to their respective homes, not drinking one drop of alcohol while everyone around him was getting smashed. Honestly, why couldn’t they ask for an uber or something; Sasuke wondered while he brooded between sips of sake.

At last, seeing Naruto watching gay porn, it seems that the gods had finally answered his prayers. Now that he cooled down, he needed to recalculate that Naruto might only be into Japanese guys, not him specifically. That doesn’t matter anyways. Naruto was attracted to men so all is fair game now. He just had to act faster before anyone else noticed about this too.

⏤.⏤

Slamming the door stall, Naruto sat on the toilet seat, messing with his hair.

Oh God, he’s so screwed, he’s so fucking doomed. He really shouldn’t have watched that porn video. There’s no way Sasuke wouldn’t grasp everything together and he’s really scared what would happen next.

Honestly, he wasn’t supposed to feel this attracted to Sasuke. Even though they work in the same sector, they were part of different teams, taking care of different clients and would only meet whenever everyone would go out to eat lunch or go to a bar after work, with some occasional short talk if they stumble on each other through the corridors.

In these pockets of interaction, Naruto was becoming increasingly fascinated towards Sasuke. Extremely smart, quick with sharp snarks and sarcastic humor, Sasuke might look unapproachable for most people, but he cast such alluring spell to Naruto. They could spend hours talking about any subject, from the existential questions to the most inane things happening in their lives. They had many points of view in common, also respecting their differing opinions even if they engaged in a healthy debate now and then.

And, well, like every art director, he was all into pleasant aesthetics and Sasuke was definitely included high in this list. Piercing dark eyes, smooth alabaster skin accentuating his high cheekbones, his face was perfect in all symmetrical proportions, body chiseled out like the finest Golden Ratio there is. (forgive Naruto for the momentary show of nerdism) He always stood out with his stylish clothes, posture lax but in a very cool way, with his hands in his pockets and chin slightly raised giving out a sophisticated aura.

It’s been a while since he was in the dating department, so admittedly Naruto wouldn’t know how exactly he’s supposed to approach him. Plus, he made up his mind that he shouldn’t try anyways, to benefit of them all.

The thing was…Naruto always thought that Sasuke was kind of out of his league, you know? He was way too attractive, too cultured with a high intellect that was too much for a regular dude like him. Shikamaru rolled his eyes, insisting that Naruto should at least test it out since the UST between those two were going off the roof but the blond man remained resolute.

…he heard stories. About how Sasuke never engaged in any serious relationship, settled only with casuals and one-night stands. So considering that Naruto was becoming more and more attached to him, he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to accept only getting physical aspect of this.

The solution then? Denial denial denial. Yeah, forget how much he enjoyed having Sasuke around, how it seemed that time stopped around them, and yet it would fly by in an instant. Forget about all the countless times he yearned to touch Sasuke’s face, feel the soft touch of his lips.

His sketchbook was getting filled with drawings of Sasuke and it’s really not his damn fault that this bastard was this photogenic, he also couldn’t explain the urge to be next to that brooding man, just so Sasuke would feel less lonely. But when he saw much to his utmost terror that he was now adding himself into these sketches, doodling him kissing Sasuke or some tender cuddling, Naruto realized that maybe he didn’t do a good job keeping his feelings at bay. His little crush was turning a little too intense to his own taste and he’s honest to God hoping he’s not becoming too creepy. Better burn those doodles to a crisp and draw harmless things like flowers or whatever.

But now, all his efforts he had done to suppress himself had evaporated with his slip. Most positive scenario was Sasuke not connecting the glaring points (very unlikely, since that damn bastard is a genius) and only teasing him from time to time. Worst scenario would be Sasuke actively pursuing him and Naruto wouldn’t know if he’d be able to resist him and then have his heart broken by the end of it all. He better get ready with whatever situation it might hold in the future.

Days had passed nevertheless and nothing happened. A week went through and there was no reaction coming from Sasuke. Naruto didn’t know if he needed to get more paranoid because if Sasuke was silent, he’s plotting. He witnessed first hand how shrewd that man could get, changing various clients’ mind to accept their envisioned marketing campaigns and he really wasn’t looking forward to be the next victim.

Interaction was inevitable considering they work in the same room, but they were plenty busy juggling with their tasks to properly chat on that week. This was enough to make Naruto relax for a bit, taking a quick break as he went outside for a snack.

“I don’t think he needs a bun. He’s fine with sausage by itself.”

“WHAT THE FU⏤” Naruto swiveled around once he heard the familiar baritone voice, as the street vendor winced from his loud scream. “Fuck man! Why do you have to creep on me from behind all the time?!”

“It’s really not my fault when you’re such a airheaded blond.” Sasuke muttered, while he asked for a cup of coffee.

When Naruto accepted his grilled sausage, he scowled. “Hey, and since when you can order food that was supposed to be mine?”

“I’m just speeding up the process so I can get my own coffee soon, and ordered based on previous assumptions that you like big thick sausages. Or am I wrong in such assessment?”

Sasuke didn’t miss how the bewildered face turned crimson red once Naruto caught the innuendo. Naruto grabbed his arm, hissing. “About that last time, I swear to God if you spread this around I⏤”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Sasuke answered monotonously.

Naruto loosened the tight grip around his arm. “Uh⏤really?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about it.” Sasuke turned around, sipping his coffee. On the corner of his vision, he saw Naruto’s shoulders sagging in relief, walking behind him as they went back to the office.

He made sure he memorized for later use when Naruto absentmindedly thrust the sausage in his mouth.

“Hm. At least I finally figured out how you’re able to swallow copious amount of food without gagging.”

Naruto coughed and choked in response. “God, you’re such a bastard.” He narrowed his eyes ready for a venomous glare but stopped at once when Sasuke curled an amused smirk. Geez, why did Sasuke had such an attractive smile, and whyyyy was his heart racing like a silly highschool girl? This is so fucking stupid.

While Naruto was having his internal battle, Sasuke was inwardly patting himself on the back for another mission accomplished. If this situation followed through smoothly according to his strategic plans, he’ll have passionate sex with Naruto by the end of this month, for sure.

--.--

AN:  This story was supposed to be a pure PWP but then I was like "wait, I need to give a good reason for those two to boink" and this monster of a fic happened. Lord help me. (but still, I'd really enjoy if you guys will leave a review)

Chapter 2

#NaruSasu #snstext #sn fic #SNS #drabble #lemon