#not beta read because i cannot bring myself to ask anyone without being embarrassed

[venture4treasure]

“And if you leave me. Rest assured, it would kill me.”

Words: 1881

Premise: Yandere!Venture kills someone and you catch them. You respond in an atypical way. 

Warnings: Minor character death, Blood, Unhealthy relationship, Irresponsible use of prescription medication, Mental breakdown, Obsession 

“Venture~”, your voice sing-songs from outside your shared home. 

Venture freezes at the sound of your voice, you weren’t supposed to be back home tonight. They glance at the blood drying on the floor, mind racing on how to keep you from seeing it. 

You’re too quick to open the door, ecstatic about getting out of work early despite your scheduled overnight shift. The sight in front of you makes you freeze. Your kitchen floor has splatters of blood and streaks from where you can only assume a corpse was dragged. Your mind immediately jumps to the worst and you tighten your grip around the handle of the door.

“Venture?” You call out hesitantly, “if this is a joke, it’s sick and I mean that in a bad way”, you add when there’s no answer. 

After several beats of silence, you pull out your phone, prepare to leave and call the police. Your attempt is interrupted when the door is forcefully torn from your grip and slammed shut behind you. You feel yourself shoved against the door. You shut your eyes and duck your head from the impact. Your hands are pinned above you and your phone is pulled away. 

You anticipate something, anything to happen to you, but when nothing happens. You hesitantly open your eyes and look up. And you don’t know what feels worse, opening your door to a crime scene or seeing who the perpetrator is. 

“Sloan…” you manage to choke out. 

So many questions race in your mind – why did you, who did you… But the desperation and fright in their eyes sobers you. In your forced rationality, you observe that their hand is warm on your wrists, their grip means no harm. 

“I-”

You cut them off by pushing them away, they stumble a couple of steps back, looking at you with wide eyes. 

“Don’t say anything. We’re cleaning this up. Right now. Go get some hydrogen peroxide and gloves. And change into something you can throw away,” you force the words out, “do not say anything that makes me any more complicit”. 

Venture is stunned at your reaction. They’re slow to follow your instructions, prompting you to ask more, “no bleach, that’ll only make things messier. We’ll refloor all of this tomorrow anyway. Do you have animal blood?”  

They shake their head, and you shoo them off to get what you told them to as you step around the kitchen to assess what needs to be done. You’re careful to avoid making the mess worse by tracking any more blood around. The mess is bad, it is a lot of blood, and it makes you think someone must've bled out. Part of you wonders if any of it is Venture’s, you hope not. You shake yourself, you don’t want to dwell on the thoughts of why it’s so bad. Your only task at hand is to clean it up, you remind yourself. 

After double-checking you won’t trail any mess around the house, you take your own advice and go to get changed into some clothes you won’t miss. You also force yourself to take two extra pills for your anxiety – double your prescription – to keep yourself grounded. 

You meet Venture in the kitchen again and help set up several trash bags. You instruct them to help you soak up the bulk of the blood in towels and throw it away. When it’s done, you show them how to clean up the rest of the blood and explain to them how hydrogen peroxide will destroy the traceable genetic material. You try to explain everything you can if only to fill the silence and to keep your mind busy. When the reality sets in a little more, you feel sick talking – you were quite literally talking about how to get away with murder. You put on a playlist to help with the silence instead.

Venture doesn’t say anything when you talk. And definitely doesn’t say anything when you stop. They’ve never seen you act like this, they never would have thought this would be a possible outcome. They’re scared anything they say will make you react poorly, so they choose to maintain the current equilibrium you’ve set. 

Eventually, when everything looks clean and normal you finally give the okay to take a break. 

“You should shower and sleep,” you say, going through the motions of brewing some instant coffee. You wanted the caffeine and you probably weren’t going to sleep anyway. 

“I promise I’m not planning to do anything while you sleep. But you’re going to help me with moving flooring tomorrow and you’re going to need the rest,” you insist, tapping your hand on their shoulder. 

Your contact makes them startle. They want to hold you and tell you how much they love you. They want to explain how this was for you. They were only doing what was best for you. They wanted to tell you how they knew you’d never see it that way and that’s why you were never meant to see them do this. But instead, they swallow the bitter reality and do as you say. If you were willing to help them this much, then they should keep their complaints to themselves. 

You note that Venture is resting on the couch in the living room, and for a moment it does cross your mind that if you wanted to call for help, now would be the time. Any other time, Venture easily overpowers you. But it’s also the first time calling the authorities has crossed your mind since you came home. The idea makes you nervous and you turn your phone face down on the counter as if to reject the possibility of doing that. You finish your coffee and start another pot of water before heading up to shower and change. 

You spend the rest of the night until morning, re-scrubbing the floor and cleaning anything you can. You know that you don’t have to at this point, you’re fairly confident you got everything done the first time around, but you needed to do something to stave off the looming anxiety. Your body aches from being on the floor and cleaning so much, but you just take an ibuprofen and ignore it. 

Venture, thankfully, wakes by themselves and saves you the mental distress of figuring out how to approach them. They follow you around for a bit like a lost puppy and it makes it really hard for you to not embrace them – but you know if you do, you’ll break and you can’t afford that. 

The drive to and back from the store is relatively uneventful. You explained the plan, and Venture did as told. The whole time you could feel them look at you for some reaction, but you ignored it. 

The two of you spent the rest of the day tearing up the floor and replacing it. It was mostly Venture and you helped where you could, you didn’t have the strength to match theirs on a good day, much less when you’ve pulled an all-nighter and barely eaten anything. 

The project is done by late afternoon. You were hoping to finish by noon, but at least it’s over now – and you probably didn’t contribute too much anyway. 

You take a long shower and pick something comfortable to wear. When you are done, you call out for Venture to do the same. Who, like everything else you’ve said these past two days, follows.

You collapse on the couch, and the give of the cushions is a relief your aching body needs. The thought of taking some more ibuprofen crosses your mind, but the idea that you’d have to get up deters you greatly. 

Venture eventually finishes their shower and slowly creeps into the living room as if to not scare you. They settle on the carpeted floor some distance in front of you. They’re looking at you the whole time, there’s a desperate desire in their eyes. Both of you can feel how fragile the atmosphere is. If you had any energy left to spare, you’d notice how uncomfortable it was that your constantly chattering partner had been silent for almost a whole day, not a single joke shared. Instead, you take note of how their usually fluffy hair is soaking wet, and barely dry. 

To your body’s protest, you force yourself off the couch to close the distance. You pull your towel off your shoulders and drape it over Venture’s head. You use it to dry their hair, gently patting their hair and running your hand through clumps you’re afraid will tangle. Venture lets you do this, all but melting into your touch. Their breaths are slow and relaxed for the first time since you got home. You take more time and care than needed to dry their hair, but the action just felt so domestic and right. And you couldn’t let the feeling go.

When you’re done, you take your time folding the towel neatly, taking care to not maintain eye contact with Venture. They stare at you with a sadness that you know would break your heart if you acknowledged it. 

“Let me explain-”

“Sloan,” they flinch at their real name being used and the sternness of your voice, “I have done so much for you, please do not repay me by saddling me with information that makes me any more guilty than I already am”. 

Your head is still dipped in a way where you won’t meet their eyes, you wring your hands together anxiously, unsure what to say. 

Venture saves you from the silence, “okay,” they pause, “do you want anything? Tea or food… dessert?” And darkly, they consider their options of drugging you and getting you away from here. Maybe to some place where they could do everything best for you. 

You shake your head. 

“Do you hate me?” Venture’s voice cracks at the end, they’re not ready for the possibility of being rejected.

“No- never,” you exclaim in shock, looking up at them for the first time, “I trust your judgment. I trust you. Because I love you”. You confess, stomping down the part of your brain that tries to add ‘a little too much’.

Venture lets out a breath they were holding and almost collapses in relief. Thank god. You still love them. It’s okay, everything is fine as long as you are theirs. 

“Do you need some space,” Venture tentatively offers, they don’t really want to leave, but they want to do something right by you. 

“No,” you choke out, “no, please don’t leave”.

You reach out to wrap your arms around their neck and pull yourself against them, they hesitantly return the embrace, holding you tighter when you don't react negatively to their touch. 

“I think my meds are wearing off,” you’re breathing hard, “it’s all too much to think about. And everything hurts”.

Venture comfortingly traces shapes on your back, letting you cry into their neck as sobs wrack your form and you dig your nails into their back to anchor yourself.

“Don’t go, don’t go, please don’t leave me alone,” you beg.

Venture leans their head against you and pulls you into their lap to hold you closer. 

“I’ll never leave you, mi vida”. 

Author’s Note: I saw some yandere Venture art and fics here. It inspired me to write about Venture killing someone because of their significant other – be it out of jealousy, possessiveness, or defense. 

This probably doesn’t fall under the typical yandere type stories, but I still consider it yandere because I think in the end, Venture doesn’t regret killing for you, they regret getting caught by you. 

For it’s worth, Venture probably orders you your favourite takeout and drink when you start to wake up so you can have something nice to eat since you haven’t eaten in over a day. 

I don’t think I’ll mention this always, but it should be obvious that both the reader and Venture here are not sound of mind. 

Quote is from Oleander by Mother Mother. Oleander is a toxic plant, it is sometimes used to symbolize desire, destiny, everlasting love, and caution.

[gra-sonas]

The Kissing Booth | Malex [R]

This is a happy Malex highschool AU. There are no hammers or homophobic dads in this one, just two boys kissing for the first time (and then some). I may have borrowed a few lines of dialogue from 1x06, just not quite in the way you’d expect.

Author’s note I: Eternal thanks to @Insidious-Intent for the quick beta, you rock!

Author’s note II: This fic is rated R for a reason, Alex and Michael are both 17 (i.e. at the age of consent in New Mexico, and holy shit, do they both consent).

on AO3

        This is for all my lovelies who had a rough night. ♥

                                                           ･ﾟ✧

“Oh my god, Michael, what are you even wearing?”

Isobel is standing in front of Michael, arms akimbo and fury emanating from her every pore.

Michael looks down at himself.

“That’s my best flannel, Iz. There’s only one little stain on it that just won’t come out. These laundromat washing machines don’t do well with motor oil. But you can’t really see it when I’m in the booth.”

Michael is embarrassed. She knows that his budget doesn’t allow for him to buy fancy clothes, why is she so mad at him? Isobel closes her eyes for a second and takes a deep, steadying breath.

“I didn’t even notice the stain. But your shirt is missing buttons, Michael. Pretty much every button to be precise. And you’re not wearing a shirt underneath. I can almost see your belly button!”

Michael snickers, he’s quick to school his face into a mask of friendly indifference though. Iz doesn’t handle well being laughed at.

“I know, the one near my belly button came off when I put the shirt on this morning. I didn’t have time to fix it. And I didn’t have a clean shirt either. Sorry, Iz.”

Her face does a complicated thing where she looks furious one moment, then like she pities him the next (which he hates, he doesn’t want or need anyone’s pity, least of all hers), and then it’s back to her determined ‘I get shit done’ face. Michael almost gets whiplash from looking at her going through all these expressions.

“OK, I’m going to find a shirt for you, you cannot run the kissing booth with half your shirt off.”

“But why not, Iz? Don’t you think my sweaty, almost shirtless torso is gonna bring all the people to the yard?”

Isobel crunches her face in disgust.

“Ew, Michael. This is a school Carnival in case you forgot. Keep it PG and don’t be gross.”

“Gross is my middle name,” he mumbles under his breath.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing, Iz, nothing.”

She looks around and spots a dark clad student with spiked hair walking up the steps to the school’s main entrance.

“Hey, you!”

The guy stops and turns around.

It’s Alex Manes, local emo/goth/whatever and avid skateboarder. He’s also the guy Michael’s had his bisexual awakening over. They’d been paired for a project in their computer science class last fall and Michael had liked spending time with Alex. A lot. They even got an A for their essay, thanks to Alex being an actual wizard when he had a keyboard in front of him. Michael is still in awe of Alex’s coding skills.

He’s also still hopelessly in crush with Alex. The dark eyeliner, the hair, the bling, not to forget the sinfully tight skinny jeans that do wonders to show off Alex’s strong legs and amazing ass. Yeah, ever since Michael realized that he’s also into dicks, Alex has played a vivid role in most of Michael’s fantasies, sexual and non-sexual. Not that he ever did anything about it though.

He knows Alex is gay, not a day's going by without Valenti and his ilk bullying Alex in some way because of it, but Michael’s been careful not to get any ideas. Alex might be gay, that doesn’t mean he’d necessarily be attracted to someone like Michael. He’s not exactly a catch with his big nose, unruly hair and hand-me-down clothes.

Michael’s trying to play it cool when Alex walks the steps back down and comes over to where they are standing in front of the Kissing Booth.

“You yelled, Miss Evans?”

Michael admires Alex for having the balls to address Isobel with a voice that’s dripping with sarcasm. She doesn’t seem affected by Alex’s somewhat insolent reply though.

“Do you have an extra shirt?”

Michael is stunned, apparently Iz is willing to let Alex’s behavior slide, if only she gets a shirt for him out of it. She must be really desperate to cover his chest.

“I do.”

Michael feels his face heat up. Any second now Iz is going to explode and yell at Alex. And he’ll associate Michael with the incident and never look at him again. Great.

To his surprise, Isobel’s voice is especially sweet when she speaks again.

“I’m sorry, I should explain why I asked you about the shirt. You see, Michael here is going to run the kissing booth at the Carnival today, and look at his flannel. It’s missing a number of buttons. You can almost see his belly button!”

Faster than Michael has any chance to react, Iz pulls his flannel apart to show the expanse of his naked chest to Alex, who looks rather flabbergasted. Then his eyebrows draw together in a thoughtful frown.

“Wouldn’t that be a selling point though? I’m pretty sure most of the girls lining up to kiss Guerin will be more than happy to get an eyeful of that.”

He gestures at the general direction of Michael’s left nipple. Which hardens immediately. Fuck his life, Michael is not sure whether to laugh or cry. He goes for flirty sarcasm instead. If he’s going to die of embarrassment today, he’s gonna go out with a bang.

“Why just girls, Manes? I’m an equal opportunity kind of guy, don’t you think my manly chest could be of interest to anyone else?”

Alex’s eyes are wide, looking at Michael, but he snorts.

“I don’t see a single chest hair growing on that manly chest of yours.”

Iz waves her hand in front of Alex’s face.

“Sorry to interrupt your banter, but I have other things to take care of. Shirt?”

She holds up her flat hand and for a change, Alex complies. He takes off his backpack, opens it and pulls out a black shirt. The cover of Depeche Mode’s Music for the Masses album is printed on the front.

“It’s a bit frail around the collar, hope your manly chest won’t catch a cold through the holes. I want this back by the way, no need to wash it. I’ll do that myself.”

With that Alex hands the shirt over to Michael, zips his backpack, then turns around and leaves.

Michael is stunned. He clutches the shirt to his chest as if to comfort himself.

Iz puts a hand on his chin and turns his head around to look at him.

“Are you freaking out because you just outed yourself to the local gay guy?”

“What? No, of course not. It’s not a secret. I mean, I’ve never told anyone except you, but I’m not ashamed of it. I’m still stunned that you forced him to hand over a spare shirt so I won’t be such a kissing magnet.”

He yelps when Isobel’s fist makes contact with his bicep.

“Go into the booth and put the shirt on, wear the flannel over it, don’t make a scandal. This is all for a good cause and I don’t want to hear any complaints about your behavior. There are wet wipes in the booth, use them between kisses, there’s also mouth wash, use that too. I’ll come by in about two hours and I swear to god, your chest will never get a chance to grow a single hair, if you don’t behave. Understood?”

Michael nods. Isobel turns on her heel and heads over to the area where Max supervises the setup of a huge bouncy castle that looks like a flying saucer. Being as alien as possible in plain sight is Isobel’s thing, but then Roswell is the perfect town to host an alien themed Carnival.

Michael enters the kissing booth, unbuttons the remaining buttons of his favorite flannel and picks up Alex’s shirt. No one’s around, so he allows himself to hold it close to his nose and sniff. The shirt is freshly laundered, but it still smells like Alex somehow. It’s comforting.

Michael’s overcome with sudden longing, and he keeps breathing in the soothing scent for another moment. When he hears a noise from outside the booth, he quickly pulls the shirt over his head and exits the booth while he puts the flannel back on. He doesn’t bother with the buttons though.

                                                        ･ﾟ✧

Three hours into the Carnival, Michael is tired. He’s chewed through a pack of gum, the first bottle of mouthwash is almost empty, and the trash can is filled with used wet wipes.

He’d thought kissing so many people in one day would be fun, but it’s not.  

The number of people with bad breath is staggering (smokers being the worst), and more than one girl has tried to slip him their tongue. Michael loves kissing, but as it turns out, he has to like the person he kisses, or else it’s a somewhat boring and at times humiliating task.

Iz has allowed him to take a ten-minute break every hour and he’s relieved when the line in front of the booth dwindles down. Time to take his break. He’s about to close the window, when he sees Alex Manes approaching. It feels like his heart is doing a somersault in his chest.

Alex stops in front of the booth. He seems nervous, and he takes a deep breath before he speaks.

“Hey. Can we talk?”

Michael’s hands are sweaty and cold all of a sudden.

“Uh, yeah, I guess?”

Alex leans closer to the open window, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Somewhere private, maybe?”

Michael nods and tilts his chin to indicate that Alex should come around to the door on the back of the booth. As soon as Alex is out of sight, Michael closes the window and turns the sign that will inform people he’s on a break. It’s red with a green flying saucer depicted in the middle, and it reads I’ve been abducted, BACK IN 10.  

Michael also closes the flimsy curtain to keep prying eyes from looking inside the booth before he opens the door.

Alex is fiddling with the hem of his black Danger! At the Picture Show shirt. When Michael tries to run his hand through his curls, he realizes he’s still wearing the green visor Isobel made him wear. The sticker on the bill depicts a little green Martian with pursed lips that says “Kiss me, I’m an alien". Michael takes the visor off and lets it dangle from one finger.

Alex enters the booth and closes the door behind him. All of a sudden, it’s dim inside, the only light coming from three strings of fairy lights Isobel put up to imitate starlight. Pictures of UFOs and cartoon aliens are lining the walls, some of them are even kissing. A UFO made from papier-mâché is hanging from the ceiling, the WE COME IN PEACE lettering sparkling in green glitter.

Michael looks at Alex with wide eyes. He has no idea what Alex wants.  

“Okay, talk?”

Michael feels like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin when Alex keeps quiet for what feels like at least another minute. All of a sudden Alex surges forward and puts his hands on the lapels of Michael’s flannel. He stumbles back until he hits the wall. Alex comes after him, taking small steps, then he pulls Michael closer ever so slowly. When Michael doesn’t give any indication of being afraid or wanting an out, Alex closes the final gap between them and kisses the living daylights out of him.

Michael is shell-shocked for all but two seconds before he also dives in and kisses back with everything he has, the visor dropping to the floor from his hands before he clings to Alex’s shirt.

When Alex pulls back eventually, Michael leans forward and tries to chase his lips. He lands one more peck before he opens his eyes and looks at Alex who’s taken a step back. His face is flushed and his eyes are so wide, Michael’s afraid they might pop out of his head any second. Michael wants to kiss the deer-in-the-headlights panic from Alex’s face, but he’s afraid that Alex might bolt when he follows that urge.

He’s careful to slow his motions when he reaches out for Alex and cups his face in his hands.

“Hey, you ok?”

Alex blinks.

“I’m not sure. I kissed you. And I didn’t even pay for the kiss. Isobel’s gonna kill me.”

Michael smiles at him.

“Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that? How often I dreamed about it?”

Alex looks stunned.

“You did? I never thought I’d have a shot with you, but then you said you’re also into guys earlier and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Then I thought about all those times we talked when we were working on that project and I - I thought maybe... I’ve been debating whether I should line up and kiss you for the good cause, but then I didn’t want our first and maybe only kiss witnessed by half the school.”

Michael’s smile grows and his eyes light up.

“Our first kiss? So there will be more?”

Alex looks into his eyes and carefully inches closer until their chests are almost touching.

“Would that be a bad idea?”

Michael shakes his head, his curls flying in every direction.

“It’s the best idea you’ve had so far, other than making the first move. You have no idea how glad I am you did th... mmmffff.”

Alex effectively shuts him up by kissing him again.

He’s not shy about it either. The kiss gets more intense and almost filthy with a twist of Alex’s tongue that makes Michael moan. He’s never been kissed like that. Alex is claiming him, and Michael is one hundred percent on board with the idea.  

When Alex cups Michael’s face and lets his hands wander to the back of his head to bury them in the long strands of his curls, Michael almost sobs with how good it feels. To be held like this. When Alex slightly pulls Michael’s hair a moment later, it goes straight to his cock.  

He’d been getting harder with every swipe of Alex’s tongue, but the hair-pulling triggers his cock to full hardness. Alex somehow seems to realize what he’s done, because he’s letting go of Michael’s head by dropping his right hand, which causes Michael to make a protesting sound that almost immediately turns into a whimper when Alex uses his hand to cup Michael’s dick.  

Michael cants his hips forward in an effort to get more pressure, and Alex, bless him, starts rubbing and squeezing his dick through the denim of his faded jeans. The friction is delicious but not near enough. If Michael had any control left over his limbs, he’d try to open his fly, but he’s clinging to Alex with both hands fisted in his shirt, holding on for dear life. If he lets go of Alex now, he might just drop to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

When he realizes that somehow Alex managed to open his fly with one hand, his knees almost give out under him. Alex fumbles with the waistband of his boxers for a second, but then his hand is finding its way inside and Michael hisses when Alex’s long, guitar-calloused fingers wrap around his cock and apply the perfect amount of pressure and friction. It only takes a few pulls of Alex’s hand until Michael comes, helplessly gasping into Alex’s mouth while the ripples of the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced run through his body.

He’s afraid he won’t be able to keep himself up any longer, but Alex is holding him through the full-body-shudders, whispering sweet nothings into Michael’s ear. He feels like a hot air balloon, ready to fly away with just a gust of wind, but Alex won’t let him. He’s holding Michael, grounding him, and slowly caressing him back to coherence.

He’s not sure if he should be embarrassed that he came all over Alex’s hand or what to do next. But apparently Alex is not only a coding wizard, he’s also a sex wizard who slowly coaxes Michael backwards until his knees hit the seat of the nearby chair. Alex helps him lower down until he sits after he’s pulled his hand out of Michael’s pants.

Alex looks around and notices the wet wipes. He picks them up and cleans his hand, then he kneels down in front of Michael and pulls down the waistband of his boxers. He dabs the remaining spots of come away, but instead of letting the waistband snap back against Michael’s stomach, Alex bends forward and places a soft kiss just slightly left of Michael’s happy trail, then another one a little lower, then another one on the smooth foreskin of his spent cock.

Michael is overcome with a wave of affection that makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

He buries his hands in the spiky strands of Alex’s hair and strokes against the grain. Alex makes a sound that sounds an awful lot like a purr. Michael files the information away for later. Because there has to be a later, a later where they are alone, where they have time to explore. And a horizontal surface to lie down.

Michael’s voice is raspy when he tries to speak again.

“This was... uhm, yeah.”

Alex looks up at him. His eyeliner is slightly smudged, and his pupils are blown. He smiles.

“Yeah, pretty damn uhm.”

Michael chuckles. Then he remembers that he has no idea whether Alex came. How very rude of him.

“Oh shit, you’ve been doing all the work here and gave me the most amazing orgasm of my life, and I - so um, should I now or...?”

Alex smiles and shakes his head.  

“You don’t need to worry, Guerin. You did plenty. Seeing you like this, knowing that it was me who did this to you got me off just fine. I might have to use another of these wet wipes though, nothing worse than come drying in your underwear.”

Michael bursts out laughing. This whole situation is absolutely amazing and utterly ridiculous in equal measure. He wouldn’t want to change anything about it though. Apart from shutting down this damn kissing booth and taking off with Alex. Even the thought of kissing anyone but Alex after what just happened makes his skin crawl.

“You know what? Why don’t you clean up while I fire off a text to tell Iz I caught herpes from someone’s kiss. I’ll let her know that I found someone who offered to take me to the nurse’s office. Max is scheduled to take over the booth in an hour anyway. I doubt anyone will notice it’ll be  closed for an hour because it’s lunch time.”

Alex nods along to Michael’s word vomit. He grabs the packet of wet wipes, unzips his pants and Michael has a hard time not to stare. How Alex will manage to clean up while his very tight jeans are basically glued to his skin is beyond Michael’s comprehension. He doesn’t dwell on the thought though, instead he pulls out his phone and texts Isobel.

He knows she’s going to be mad as hell at him. It’s impossible for him to catch herpes, he’s immune to human diseases (as far as they know), meaning she’ll know he’s bailing, but he doesn’t care.

He’s going to drive himself and Alex out into the desert where they will be alone and can continue where things left off. The makeshift bed in the back of his truck is the perfect playground.

When Alex is done, Michael gets up from the chair, buttons his pants and slowly moves into Alex’s personal space again.

“Ready to go?”

Alex smiles and presses a soft kiss to Michael’s lips.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

FIN

[hexhux]

My Eighteenth Birthday

Friday, May 3rd, 2019. 

An open letter to everyone who has ever loved me. A recap of the year. 

Today, I turned eighteen years old. I can’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be here. I’m sure many others who suffer from long-term mental illness can relate, but it is not always a given to make it this far. I have so much farther to go, but because this is such a milestone, I wanted to take a moment to step back and give my thanks to those in my life who have offered their hand to me. This life has been as joyous and wonderful as it has been cruel. For all the times I have sobbed my heart out, grieving and ashamed, I have found an equal amount of pure, forgiving laughter. To everyone, thank you so much.

One of the most important things I have learned so far is to appreciate the small things. To the setting sun, to the flowers called weeds, to the soft sheets, to the warm baths - thank you. To the moon, the stars, the midnight sky - thank you. To the emotional movies, to the memes on the internet, to the books I’ve read a thousand times - thank you. These are the things I have cultivated and loved, even when I thought the sun wouldn’t shine on me any longer. To quote one of my favorite movies of all time, Swiss Army Man, “Everything everywhere matters to everything.” It truly does. Forever. Always.

Grandma: you are the most important person in my life. From the very day I was born, you have been there. Through every stomach ache, nightmare, and painful thought, you have pieced me back together. You taught me what love truly was. Dedication. Sincerity. Empowerment. On all the days I could not love myself, you loved me twice as much. I found true friendship with you. You are the most generous, forgiving, and wholly enveloping person I know. Regardless of whether or not I am happy or sad, your face is the one I want to see. You match me in passion, pride, and persistence. I cannot tell you how much I love you because words do not come close to the feeling inside my heart. Thank you for being my best friend, for the advice, the comfort, and all the times you thoroughly read my fanfiction. You have supported my art and my dreams since the beginning. Thank you, mama.

Ethan: Firstly, let me ask a very, very important question, little brother. Do you have a mic? I’m kidding (lmao). I could not have a better brother. You were my first playmate, my partner in crime, and the person who was always by my side. Never once have we stopped playing. Every moment with you is one of belly-aching laughter and jokes. You bring an incredible light to the life of anyone who knows you. You’re level-headed, compassionate, and the funniest person I know. We’re so similar, but even in our differences, we’ve supported one another fully. You are my other half and I love you so dearly that it’s nearly laughable. You’re an absolute buffoon sometimes, but I’d take you over anyone else any day.

Collin: Ah, yes, my stupid woke best friend. You are the sweetest, kindest person I have ever met. The only person who asks retail workers about their day, even if they clearly hate their job. Nobody else has ever made quite such a dedication to getting to know me. You know the most about me, even if admitting that is embarrassing because the vast majority of my secrets are odd and cringe-worthy. We have been through so many challenges, but we have always made it through because we have a connection unlike no other. You are such a beautiful, encapsulating human being. The bond we have is incomparable to any other, and I cannot thank you enough for being my friend. It isn’t often you meet someone who wants all of you, not just the good parts. You have loved me through the misfortune. And I want you to know that I will forever be there for you. It is an honor to know you, Collin.

Nits: We may have met by chance, but there is nothing accidental about our friendship. I have never encountered someone like you before - someone so bold, strong, and gorgeous. That summer we spent every day together, entangled by movies, music, and a growing fondness that would last forever. To be loved by you is such a gift. Nobody deserves you. I have never so desperately wanted to see someone succeed. We are intertwined and will be forever, I truly hope. You have held my hand and helped me through the bad times, just as I’ve held yours. You are an enigmatic, wondrous, and hopeful soul. Thank you for seeing me for who I am, even when I myself didn’t know who that was at times.

Kiesha: Your comfort and reassurance is never-ending. You have such a warm, broad presence. We have known each other for such a long time and have managed to grow in the same direction. So much love, laughter and acceptance has been cultivated between us. I cannot thank you enough for all those nights spent talking on the phone late at night. For all the times you answered my calls when I was crying after a bad dream and needed another person to exist with me. For all the beta-reading, spelling checks, and long-reading sessions. Thank you for being there and for being the Wade Wilson to my Peter Parker.

Nova: I have never met another person so similar to myself. You’ve given me so much comfort in my identity and existence. You are a lovely, sugary sweet human being, even when you’re badass. You have such a fierce and generous energy, which has enraptured me since the moment we met. We met through hard circumstances, but I believe it was worth it because we found each other. I would relive it a hundred times if you were still standing at the end of it. Our love for one another is so nurturing and wholesome, and I wouldn’t give it up for all the money in the world. Thank you for your friendship, generosity, and patience. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you. Probably throw a fit.

Nikki: You are seriously one of the most interesting people I have ever met. You’re so hilarious, so intriguing, and so sincere. I couldn’t ask for a better friend. Your presence is one I’ll never forget and hope to never live without. I will always hold my hand out to you because I know you’d do the same for me. You’re such a supportive, kind, and affectionate person. You don’t give yourself enough credit for how fuckin’ amazing you are. I’m very glad to call you my friend, and I can’t thank you enough for being mine. You matter so much to me. Thank you for all the playlists, passion, and crude jokes.

Cierra: You are such a beautiful, darling person. We have grown so much together and I could not be happier to call you my friend. Ever since I was a child, I dreamed of having a friend like the teenage girls in the coming of age movies. The type of friendship where you gush about boys, share all of your dreams and uplift each other to the highest degree. I feel so much happiness talking to you, even if it's about nothing at all. You have supported me so thoroughly and have always been such a gentle, soft girl. I am so proud to call you my friend. For all the times we gushed over Tom Holland, thank you.

J: From the very moment we met, we’ve had intense and bold chemistry. You’re so funny and so wise, even if sometimes I want to beat you with a stick. Your love and dedication for me have been such a pleasure. I love that we can spend hours on the phone - talking about everything and nothing at all. You’ve always been there to support me, even in times when I felt too weak to go on. Your love for me has been so enveloping, and I hope you know that I love you just as much. Thank you for giving me the courage to remove toxic people from my life. Thank you for remembering the little things about me. And most of all, thank you for also indulging in my love for oldies beach music. You’re wonderful.

Aisu, Amanda, Sky, and Reez: My wonderful squad! You guys are endlessly supportive, hilarious, and fantastic human beings. Never in my life have I felt so brave and safe with a group of people. It is truly an honor to log onto Twitter and talk to such honest, fantastic friends. No matter what I’m talking about, you guys are always there to encourage me. Through all my writing, my artwork, my strange fantasies - you guys have been there. For all the support of my Kylo Ren fetish, my love for Slenderman, and random infatuations with villians, thank you so much. From the bottom of my heart, I love y’all.

To myself: You’ve made it this far. I know that some days you succumb to the pain, the insecurity, the anguish, but you have truly been so brave. Every time that you’ve fallen, you’ve pushed yourself from the ground and stood on your feet once more. Against all odds, you have made it to eighteen. You are strong. You are smart. You are brave. Even on the days when you wished you were someone else, or gone completely, you have bandaged your wounds and taken care of yourself. I am so proud of you. For once in my life, I am happy to be who I am. I am happy to be you. To inhabit this body. Thank you for never once giving up on yourself, even when you so desperately wanted to. Thank you so much.

I learned so much during my year as seventeen. It hasn’t been easy by any means; there were so many times when I wanted to let go of it all. Recovering from severe depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder has been a long, arduous process. I’ve been in therapy for nearly a full year now, and I’ve come so far in examining my trauma and understanding how to live with it. This year, I’ve done my best to step out of my comfort zone and allow myself to flourish as much as possible. This life can be complicated and heartbreaking, but it’s worth it all. For all the happiness, the love, the sweetness.

Finally, I’d like to list the songs that I’ve played a billion times and have been the biggest comfort. 

1. Mariners Apartment Complex by Lana Del Rey

2. O Superman by Laurie Anderson

3. Allentown by Manchester Orchestra & The Front Bottoms

4. I’ll Still Have Me by CYN

5. Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd

Thank you to everyone. For everything.

“Knowing at last what I am, recognizing it, admitting it, confronting it,” - Anaïs Nin

[narisblog]

Master list of my favorite Bangtan fanfics

OT7 fics:

Bangtan Unleashed (Pt.2 is here)- Nobody knows the real Bangtan. What happens when the stage personas drop and the filter comes down? Pure insanity that's what.

Make Me Begin- When Jungkook is attacked, in the middle of their comeback, the rest of BTS struggle to come to terms with it and their own feelings for each other.

Blue Balls- Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung have a bet on who will the last the longest without getting off.The others then get involved.

Yoonmin:

Expensive Tastes- The fact that submitting to his own tastes empowers Yoongi so much makes Jimin think that he and Min Yoongi are practically made for each other.Jimin is a spoilt little thing who loves expensive gifts and attention, and Yoongi cannot help but indulge him.

Yoonmin Tumblr Requests- a place for me to dump my tumblr requests for those who want to read them! probably will be mostly yoonmin smut unless people request other things

Lock and key- Jimin had been rubbing up all over him ever since he got home, telling him he smelt good. Yoongi blanched as the realization hit him.Ah shit.

give me your full attention- “I didn’t want a roommate in the first place but you’re really fucking hot and I'm having a hard time studying since you just walked into our dorm with sweaty limbs after your stupid dance practice and now I can’t concentrate on anything else but you, fuck you.”

stuck on you- jimin doesn't do the whole fwb thing, it was too complicated and people didn't interest him enough to stick around, but he guesses that he could make an exception for yoongi's sakeーat least until the grouchy, mint-haired guy starts making him feel weird things, that is.

Head Cold- “Then why did you sneeze? You only sneeze when you’re feeling sick.”“I’m not sick!” Jimin yelled, flicking his tail at Yoongi and kicking his feet furiously. Yoongi glared at him, and Jimin returned it, quirking an eyebrow in competition.“Do you wanna get spanked?” Yoongi growled, his glare growing darker.“I dare you, Daddy.”Or: Yoongi suspects Jimin is sick, and Jimin is less than happy about his oncoming cold.

Perfect Is the Sound of You Breaking- Jimin likes being good, he likes being perfect.

Take Me To Church- Jimin, much to his chagrin, has a demon called Yoongi living in his bedroom. Things would be easier if Yoongi were a soul sucking monster instead of charming and unfairly hot.

NamJin:

Trouble- "I think you'd look good in black stockings."

tell me how you want your gift- (Feat. Yoongi)- tfw yoongi and namjoon don't remember seokjin's birthday is in, like... a week.sequel to twos company, threes a party

Can’t Keep My Hands To Myself- Every time Jin bends over, Namjoon slaps his ass. It was supposed to be a joke the first few times, but now Jin seems to be bending over a lot more.

Thinking out loud- It's funny how that brain to mouth filter works huh? Well maybe not funny, But it certainly makes for a Lovely icebreaker. Even when you didn't ask.....

The beauty and the monster-  (warning:lots of smut/possible triggers) Jin is the heir to his parents' large company, but he doesn't act like the typical spoiled rich boy. Namjoon is a ruthless criminal that will stop at nothing to get what he wants. With the help of his closest gang members he is bound to succeed in everything. What happens when the beauty collides with the Monster? Not your average fairy tale.

get on your knees (say pretty please)- Seokjin hates Namjoon, and then of course, the two of them get stranded on a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Pink- Namjoon would do anything to please his pretty princess.

up and coming; we’re fucking in an elevator- When Seokjin finally arrives home from a very long trip, Namjoon finds that he can barely control himself.

Pack Mentality (Kinda OT7)- Namjoon is possessive.

You are Only Hiding from Yourself (Feat. Yoongi)- Omegas were not allowed in K-pop. It was too risky but Jin wanted in. So like any closet omega he took suppression meds to change his smell to a beta. He got them sent from home so that everyone would not see and religiously he took them every day. But when he runs out of meds on a trip to America he soon realizes that he is putting the group at risk when his heat triggers two more.

Sope:

Everything Gone Wrong- The first thing that went wrong in Yoongi's life was when his parents signed him up as a volunteer for the new governmental genetic experiment.Then he woke up as a sort of human-wolf hybrid.And got stuck with six idiots under the same roof.All of them are eager to find out their ranks, and Yoongi specially wants to Alpha them all.He should have known that nothing would go as he desired.

Game over (Fantasy fulfilled)- Back at their apartment, Yoongi and Hoseok finish what they started at the club

The games we play (My Fantasy)- Min Yoongi knows for a fact that fantasies can become reality

Sun and Moon - You are my other side- Everyone at their university said that they both wouldn't make a very good pair because of the clash and contrast in their personalities. Boy were these other students quick to judge. Min Yoongi - A hybrid musician with the genetics of both a vampire and a nix - and Jung Hoseok - A dancer with the genetics of a nix - have been best friends since the last year of their middle school days.They now have ten pure years of friendship - a few disagreements here and there. Though, Yoongi and Hoseok kept their - well fucking hidden - 3 year raging crushes they've had towards each other - that developed on their first year of college - a secret.It wasn't until their first year at University, not even two weeks into the first semester. Yoongi got annoyed at a female student who tried to grab - read: steal - Hoseok's attention. So Yoongi decided that it was now or never, and to be fair Hoseok had never been so relieved - but lowkey pissed off that it took this long - for Yoongi's confession, that day. The only ones who know about Yoongi and Hoseok's relationship; is the small friendship group that was assembled through their roommates / classmates. Everyone else is utterly clueless.

we write sins (not tragedies)- Rival Erotica writers Yoongi and Hoseok. 50% crack, 50% porn.

Kookmin:

come on and bare your teeth- Jimin heard a twig snap somewhere in the distance, and he looked up……and found himself staring right into the eyes of a wolf. When Jimin runs away, he certainly doesn't expect to find a new home in the form of a bunch of furry beasts living inside a rock.

I’m the Hyung- Request/Prompt: No matter how many times he asserts his "hyung" status over Jungkook, Jimin still has a secret 'thing' for being dominated by him

i am a good boy (Feat. Taehyung)- The ideal couple. Jimin was short and soft in all the ways Jeongguk was tall and hard. The stuff of highly rated KBS dramas, Taehyung supposed.Until recently.aka taehyung stumbles upon (more like into) the true dynamics of his best friend's relationship ft. power bottom jimin, eager to please jeongguk and thirsty taehyung

Headed to Hell for the Company- A series of one-shots depicting Taehyung's time with his mildly sex-crazed half-demon boyfriend Jungkook.

Vkook:

Nice dream- … And he awakens, drenched in sweat, to see Jeongguk leaning over him. He feels an unmistakeable tightness in his pants. How embarrassing.“Are you okay?” the other asks, face pink. Taehyung blinks a couple of times.“Yeah, just a dream, no worries,” he reassures, voice scratchy. He hopes Jeongguk can’t tell.

Worth The Wait- Jeongguk's about to go crazy waiting for the next time the four of them can have some fun together. Luckily, one afternoon they all find themselves alone in the house once again.Lots of smut, though with a teeny bit of plot. This is a follow up to Sunday Morning, though could potentially be read as a standalone.

Assassin’s Order- CEO Taehyung gets tangled up in some illegal business without even knowing and when Assasin Jeongguk gets assigned to extract information from him after being caught, he realizes in what mess he's gotten himself into and agrees to cooperate with the assassins, after learning their true reasons, to bring down his uncle's company. What Jeongguk and Taehyung didn't expect was falling for each other in the progress.

Disaster- ALL that Jungkook needed was a click and his inner Slut was discovered and of course having a strictly religious family didn't stop him from opening his legs willingly for anyone as long as he was going too get fucked well !EXCEPT FOR ONE PERSON: V the college asshole playboy And Taehyung's only mistake was being born as V's twin brother & being in love with Jungkook.

You Are My Fifth Season- Jungkook loved Taehyung when the latter couldn't love himself. Will that love resist the hardships ahead?Or: The tales of a flawed/innocent Taehyung and a player/playboy Jungkook.-"Trust me?" -"Thrust me."

Up Above the Parachutes- Taehyung is a flight attendant, Jeongguk catches his eye (and his pants).

Notice Me Hyung- Taehyung is too stupid to understand and Jungkook must change that.

I was.- Jungkook is a sexually frustrated teen with raging hormones and shit while Taehyung is tired as fuck and he just want to take his beauty sleep.

Other ships:

Stuck in a rut (KookJoon feat. Hobi and Yoongi)-Jungkook goes into rut for the first time. Yoongi and Hoseok were just trying to help a bro out.

Burnin’ Up (Namseok)-PROMPT FILL: from anon; “I was wondering if you could write an omegaverse namseok fic, with omega namjoon? Totally fine if you cant, I was just curious ♡.”

빨간색 [And Black] (HopeMin)- Red and black. That's all that mattered at the moment.

To Know Reverence (HopeMin)- Fills for the nsfw 30 days otp challenge prompts.

Crows, Flowers, and Apples (Taegi)- Yoongi is a boxer who goes by the name Agust D, Taehyung is his boyfriend/ring boy. Or: Yoongi just got finished with a match and unwinds with Tae in the shower. aka puppies, piercings, tatttos and fluff not to mention smut

Tell Daddy what you wanna do (YoonKook)- Yoongi accidentally calls Jungkook daddy.

there are two kinds of cake (YoonJoon)- both of them you eat.(lmao alternatively it's namjoon's birthday and yoongi gets cake)

Twisted (YoonKook)- In which Yoongi is a pyromaniac in every sense of the word, Jeongguk is a psycho who is also perpetually horny and Taehyung is just an innocent bystander … (except, not really).