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builder051 · 3 years

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The talk

Chasing Ghosts

(I generally do not play in this arena; DO NOT ask for other stories with PMS, etc., as illness features. I do loosely plan to continue this thread, though. Or @mohini-musing might pick up for me.)

Warnings: weight (though not ED context), SA inc. prostitution, blood, emeto

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Tasha comes down the hall and stands like a ghost behind the sofa.

James is in the recliner across the living room, and he barely looks up from the textbook he's pretending to peruse. The quiet music he's had playing in one ear has long since captured his attention more than the multiplication of matrices. He's fairly sure he'll never use the skill lest he become a software engineer post-graduation, and the prospect of that's looking pretty slim.

He sees Tasha out of his peripheral vision, but doesn't move his head or lift his eyes for acknowledgment. She's probably drifted down from her weekend high, realized it's Sunday night, and gotten up for a Gatorade and maybe a glance at her homework.

Steve, though, who's lying on his stomach and taking up the whole of the couch, practically jumps to attention. He stands, scoots, and sits again in the amount of time it takes James to blink and make the first inhalation of a laugh.

"Sorry," Steve says, as if he's personally offended Tasha and just been called out. "I didn't mean... I was just, like, studying..."

Tasha shrugs. "Didn't come to sit with you," she says, in a voice that recalls the 'boys are gross' tone of young teenagerhood.

"What's up, then?" James asks, trying to bring back the balance of the room's atmosphere.

Tasha makes an ugly face. She opens her mouth, then shuts it. "Can I talk to you alone?"

James scoffs. "You think there's privacy in this apartment?"

"I can go, I don't know--" Steve looks around.

"Just talk," James says. He almost rolls his eyes, but the undercurrent of Tasha's affect seems to hold an air of seriousness. If there's something she needs to confess or ask for help with, he doesn't want her to feel less than secure.

Tasha lets out a breathy sort of sigh. "Blood," she says. "There's blood."

"Huh?" Steve responds first. "Where?"

James takes a little longer to contemplate the admission. Has she cut herself? There's no visible damage; Tasha's not holding an injury or howling in pain. Bloody vomit? That's nothing new, really, and even with vampire-red teeth, which she doesn't have, Tasha probably wouldn't come crying to him.

James is still thinking when Tasha points vaguely down the hall and to the left, which is, technically speaking, her side of the apartment. Or at least the bedroom and bathroom they'd parceled out for her when they'd unofficially moved her out of her dreary campus housing.

"What, in your room?" Steve asks.

"No." Tasha screws up her eyes. "I mean... I'm bleeding."

The cogs continue to turn in James's head, and just as he lands on an answer, Steve gives up, shaking his head and saying, "I don't get it."

"Fuck you," Tasha mumbles. "Both of you." She turns and starts to head back down the hallway.

"Tash." James jumps to his feet, his algebra book falling to the floor.

"You guys are fucking gay..."

"Hey!" Steve interjects.

James flaps his hand at Steve to shut him up. "Maybe we're gay, but I'm your big brother." He shoots a quick glance at Steve, hoping this won't surpass his no privacy promise. They've done some pretty wild stuff together: partying, puking, cleaning the carpet... Period talk shouldn't be too far out of their wheelhouse. At least, not if Tasha wants to talk about it.

Tasha huffs and rounds the edge of the sofa. She stands beside the arm, leaning her hip against it for a moment, before finally deciding to sit down, as far away from Steve as possible.

"I..." James starts, assuming it's his responsibility to keep the conversation going. "I assumed you hadn't been, um. You know."

Tasha's 100 pounds soaking wet. In her usual cutoff shorts and tank tops, he'd give her 95. Maybe 92 if she's detoxing. James assumes she has something like female athlete triad going on, except without the athlete. He doesn't like to think she's just too skinny to go through... normal biological processes. If he blames the drugs, sees them as wrecking her body instead of bringing her solace, then he'll have to turn eyes on himself, and there's no way in hell he wants to do that.

"Smart one," Tasha says. "And exactly how much thought do you give to the functioning of my uterus?"

Steve gives an 'oh shit' face, looking from James to Tasha and back again as if wondering how he's been so thick headed. James agrees, but is also relieved, in a way, that his boyfriend hasn't been thinking about his sister in, well, that way.

"Seeing as I have, more than once, pulled you out of an R-rated situation with iffy consent, and you have yet to become pregnant--" James starts.

"Yeah, ok, you don't have to..." Tasha shakes her head.

James decides not to stop his momentum. "Do you know how much sex you're having? How often you're using protection?"

"I said, you don't have to." Tasha glares at him. "I don't have one. A cycle, or whatever. I can't get knocked up."

"Well, I figured that, but you can still get an STD--

"I don't think you're hearing me," Tasha says. "I don't have one. I haven't. Like, ever."

"But--what?" James squints and cocks his head. "What about, what was it? Cheerleading camp?"

"That stupid summer program when I was 16?" Tasha bites her lip. "Yeah, that was a lie."

"You're losing me." Steve reminds them he's part of the conversation as well.

"What, didn't your mom send you to cheerleading camp when you were a sullen teen?" Tasha asks him, seemingly in all seriousness.

"Um. No." Steve withers a little under her stare. "There was a threat to beat it out of me with a bible when I was that age, but that never came to fruition."

"Mm. Fun times." Tasha scrubs her hair back from her face. "I told mom of the moment I started at camp, so then she couldn't go nuts about the moment I 'became a woman,' or whatever."

Tasha has always seemed like a little kid to James. Her stint at camp had only taken place... he quickly calculates... 3ish years ago. Tasha is a kid. She hasn't busted 20 years old yet. But, for the first time James wonders if other, more metaphorical factors are at play.

The idea quickly fades, though, when he remembers the actual topic at hand. "Ok, but Tash," James says. "What's actually going on right now?"

Tasha practically sinks into the couch cushions. She wraps both arms around her abdomen. "Blood," she says. "Kinda...everywhere."

"We'll clean the bathroom later," James says dismissively.

"And I'll do laundry," Steve offers. "I used to be the scrawny kid who got beat up a lot. I can do bloodstains."

"Not helping, babe," James tells him before Tasha can get a word in.

"Feel sick," Tasha admits, rather suddenly.

"Bathroom it is, then," James decides. "But, let's use mine."

Tasha seems to have turned into a shapeless blob on the corner of the couch, her chest meeting her thighs with her arms still wrapped around her stomach. Her face is in her knees, which James has to admit, would be easier to clean than the carpet.

"Come on," he says gently, taking Tasha's shoulder. "If you're gonna puke, don't do it here, please."

"But I already diiiiid," Tasha complains, drawing out the last word and adding the hiccup of a fake crying fit.

"Sorry." James hooks his flesh arm across Tasha's chest and lets her cling to him down the hall. He takes her into his and Steve's disorganized yet bleach-shined bathroom. Cleaning was practically Steve's hobby. Yet keeping down the clutter? Not his strong suit.

Unsure of exactly what kind of sick his sister intends to be, he sets her down, fully clothed, on the toilet, which, of course, has the seat up. Then he dives for the trash can and shoves it into Tasha's chest.

She gives James an appreciative glare, then sets her chin on the edge of the trash can, ostensibly to wait for an upcoming retch. James can practically see it, rising from the bottom of her spine, up her back, to her neck and throat before finally pushing a pitiful amount of spit and bile out of her mouth.

"Ok..." James sighs. If she's down to just that, she's been at it a while. Lost a lot of fluids already.

"Gatorade?" Steve asks in a chipper tone, putting voice to what James is thinking without a trace of delicacy.

"Hmph." Tasha spits. "If it'll... make it stop burning..."

"Lemme guess, vodka last night?" James tries to make her laugh. Maybe cough.

"Fuck you."

"Eh, we'll talk about that later," James says, hoping he doesn't sound threatening. "For now, how about I go with you?" James pulls on Steve's arm and heads for the bathroom door.

"Hey, you said no privacy here..." Tasha's irritated and sickly voice trails after them.

"Yeah, well, puking people aren't allowed to leave the bathroom," James says. "That's the house rule that trumps all the others."

"But I puke on the couch all the time--"

"That's because it's too hard to get your fucking limp-ass octopus body into the bathroom in the first place." James rolls his eyes. "Just sit tight."

He quickly drags Steve into the kitchen. "Ok," he says. "You have to know about this stuff. You took health class in high school, right?"

"I've lived with a woman," Steve reminds James, a little shamefully. "But Peggy was super private. You know, like inhibited, about, like, um..."

"Yeah, I get it." James shrugs. Then, "Did you know you can stem a nosebleed with a tampon?"

"Why would I?"

"I don't know..." James shakes his head.

"Why do you?" Steve looks a little take aback now.

"The field. Desert air's pretty damn dry."

"Ah. Ok."

"We'd get donations of shit from the states. Care packages, Costco overstock, you know. Just, whatever. When we got pads and stuff, whoever was unloading the box would just hold them over their head and yell 'who needs them?'"

"And I'm assuming people would just raise their hands?" Steve postulates.

"Yup." James pops the P. "No privacy. Everyone knows everyone else's bathroom habits. When you're deep in the field, there's no men's and women's facilities. Half the time the privies don't even have doors."

"Ok." Steve nods. "Experience, then. You have lots of experience."

James shrugs again. "You have to be chill, ok?" He opens the fridge and pulls out two bottles of Gatorade. He holds one to either side of Steve's neck, as if to physically cool him. "This is, like, super weird and awkward for her. She's really scared, I think, and her brave face just looks...jerk-ish."

"Yeah." Steve takes the Gatorade. "I can be good with this. I really care about her, even if she doesn't think I do."

"I know you do," James says. "It's all in the presentation right now, though. She's skittish. But, also, for some reason, willing to talk. We have to tease it out. And you can't ruin it, ok?"

"Ok, ok." Steve seems to understand, even if he doesn't appreciate the words.

They head back to the bathroom, where Tasha has, for whatever reason, decided to heave into the toilet instead of the trash. She squats awkwardly, sitting on one heel. From the angle he's at, James can see a spreading stain on the back of Tasha's shorts, which has made an imprint on her ankle and the bottom of her foot.

"Don't move," James says, reaching for a towel.

"The fuck would I?" Tasha coughs, holding her stomach and moaning.

"Well, when you're done, stand up slowly and wipe your feet."

"...Shit..." Tasha spits. "Like I said. It's fucking everywhere."

"Yeah..." Menstrual blood, James has no experience with. But blood in general, yeah. It does get fucking everywhere. There's that first moment when the entire body and all its systems are still in shock, like when the arm is first blown off, and then all he can see is red. Even the bone that was white just a second ago is lost in a sea of scarlet--

"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order," Steve says with a grin, clearly trying to be friendly, but missing out on one, or more, of the points. "You're not pregnant."

"Well, of course I'm not, you dingbat," Tasha replies, rolling her eyes so hard that James is sure it must give her a headache. If she doesn't already have one. "And besides. He used a condom."

"Wait," James says. He's been preoccupied by not looking at Steve. "You know that?" he pokes cautiously. "For sure?"

"...Yeah..."

"Every time?"

"To be honest," Tasha starts, spitting and pushing herself away from the toilet. She crab-walks to the towel, wipes her feet, then sits on it, criss-cross like a little kid. "I don't know if he actually gets off every time." She draws her mouth into a straight, defensive line.

"The fuck does that have to do with anything?" James asks.

Steve looks very much like he wants to get the bleach from the cabinet under the sink, pour it into one ear, tip his head, and see if it comes out the other.

"He pulls out," Tasha says bluntly. "And there's never any, you know. Gunk."

"Wait, he does both?" Steve's eyebrows disappear into his hair. "A condom and--"

"Ok, ok." James puts up his hands to shush them both. "And this is, what, this is your dealer we're talking about?"

"Yeah, I guess, if you want to call him that," Tasha says with a shrug.

"What else would we call him?" Steve now looks disgusted. "That'd be stupid to let him just, like, defile you every week."

"He doesn't--" Tasha starts, but then she hiccups, and maybe thinks better of what she was going to say. She still stares Steve down, though, then looks to James as if grasping at straws of support.

"He's, like, a manufacturer?" Tasha turns her gaze sideways.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." James puts his hand over his face. He'd assumed Tasha was getting her stuff on the street, through a framework of various interlopers. Now he's getting news that his kid sister is taking substances thrown together in some coed's bathtub? This is too much.

"Tash--" James starts, trying hard to keep his bubbling anger and concern from spilling over.

"He's a PhD candidate," Tasha says defensively. In Chemistry. And--" her eyes flicker from side to side as she seems to wonder what's appropriate to spill. "I won't tell you his name. But... I'll tell you that he got kicked off the football team for being too violent, but he still wears his green jersey all the time to prove how much better and calmer he's become since that happened, which was only in the freshman year of his undergrad..." Tasha babbles on.

The more she defends the guy, the more James hates him. He feels bad for him a little, slinging synthesized crack to get by. He feels better for Tasha, knowing that what she's taking is most probably pure. But the sex thing is--

"It's kinda creepy," Steve says, taking the words right from James's mouth. "Like, how much older than you is he?"

"I don't know." Tasha shrugs. "Not that much, I don't think. Started school early, finished fast. And I'm not sure this is his first post-graduate program..."

"Maybe shouldn't've added that last part," James says, screwing up his eyes. "So he's had, like, however long to prey on girls who are barely legal. Who might not even be legal..."

"Well, I'm legal, and I can do what I want." Tasha crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"Yeah," James sighs. "Unfortunately."

"But what about the thing with the handcuffs? The gang rape? Losing your bra?" Steve blurts out.

"Wait, you..." Tasha's eyes flash with anger. "You told him?"

"What did I say about privacy?" James quickly reminds her. "The non-puking kind? And, um," He looks to Steve. "Maybe a little respect?"

"Sorry," Steve mutters. "But--I really do--"

"I don't really remember that stuff," Tasha says.

James studies her face, but he can't tell if she's lying.

"Probably just party stuff that got out of hand."

'You mean you were too stoned to know the difference between your regular and some random dude off the street,' James thinks. 'What do you do at parties? And how the fuck do you slip past me?'

"He's your pimp, too, isn't he?" Steve asks, pointing at Tasha rather accusatorially, in James's opinion.

"No!" Tasha leans forward and brings her arms down to cover her clearly still sore abdomen. "Bruce wouldn't--" She swallows. "I didn't-- You didn't hear--"

James hasn't been a student long enough to know who was on the football team 4, 5, 6-odd years ago. He supposes he could look it up, crossing the name with accounts of any violent incident that amount of time ago. He's not sure he wants to, though he'll probably wind up looking it up later. Either that, or Steve will. James still has his ex-mil connections, a few of which were absorbed into the local police force. Steve, on the other hand, is better with social media and navigating the niceties of such mysteries as SnapChat and TikTok.

"Ok, fine," James says, just ameliorate his sister's panic.

"He doesn't even drug me at parties," Tasha goes on, probably unaware of how terribly young and desperate she sounds, making lame-ass excuses so she can keep her boy toy.

"And you've had other guys who did?" Steve asks incredulously, even though James shakes his head frantically at him to try to get him to shut up.

"You know Rumlow?" Tasha asks, since apparently she's now all about spilling names.

James shakes his head, but Steve screws up his eyes and says in a disgusted voice, "him?"

"Yeah..." Tasha sighs and looks down at her fingernails, which are stained rust-red at the root. "Remember the night I didn't come home?"

"Yeah, and scared the living shit out of us because your phone was off," James fills in the blanks.

"Well, I didn't turn it off."

"You mean that asshole kept you overnight without any means of getting yourself out of there?" Steve looks downright sick. "I mean, I know he looks slimy, but that?"

"I think Maria accidentally slept on the couch and found me at, like, 6am trying to stick my head in the linen closet because I couldn't find the bathroom." Tasha laughs, though the situation is anything bur funny.

"And I was so pissed at her for having you out all night..." James trails off.

"Yeah, maybe respect my choices a little more?" Tasha glares at him. "I mean, Maria's studying to become an EMT now. You can't think that badly of her."

'Great,' James thinks. 'Someone who'll drug Tasha to the gills every weekend.' She'll be less likely to overdose, but James has seen it all too often in the field. Newly minted medical personnel eager to sow off their skills and rushing into action.

"Yeah," James says, trying not to smirk. "So you got a girlfriend and a boyfriend now?"

"Ew, no," Tasha replies. "Friends with...benefits, I guess. If you even want to call it that. Folks who look out for each other, using a barter system?"

"Did you recently take World History?" James can't help but poking at her vocabulary.

"Fucking-a, I don't know. Once I pass, it's in my past."

"That's actually a good motto," Steve points out.

"Anyway," James says, bringing the conversation back to topic. "None of your...friends... are invited to this house."

"It's not like I want to bring them over for dinner," Tasha replies. "I guess drop off and pickup might happen, since, well, you know now, and I don't have a car." She shrugs. "Cool?"

James hates the idea of someone inebriated driving a car in which his sister is a passenger, despite the fact that he's done it before. Regularly, actually. Maybe he just hates the idea of the driver being someone who Tasha just fucked. The air might be heavy between them. They might smell like each other's deodorant and musk. They might kiss each other good bye. The thought makes James's stomach turn.

But, "sure," he says. "That's fine.” At least she'll come home.

James shares a glance with Steve, which seems to confirm the same sentiments, "Yeah," Steve echoes, as if his opinion counts for anything. "Fine."

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ikleesfiction · 4 years

Text

Will you follow through if I fall for you?

Fandom : One Chicago Word count : 2,276 words Author Notes : Rated M Disclaimer

Previously on this fic : Part 1 🞂 Part 2 🞂 Part 3 🞂 Part 4

Part 5

Jay didn’t text or call you further until the next day. You feel your phone vibrating on the desk as you are working with your headphones on. You see Jay’s name on the display before you pick it up, “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N! I’m downstairs. Let's do the dinner date now. You haven’t had dinner yet, have you?” Jay spontaneously announces.

It was just past 7 PM. You have been working since 1 PM and didn’t notice the time goes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Couldn’t you give me more time to prepare?”, you sound annoyed but he can hear the smile in your tone.

“Don't want you to accuse me of bailing again. So I have to be sure I can make it”, Jay says grinningly.

“Why don’t you come up and wait in my living room?”, you let Jay know your apartment number and buzz him up before you disconnect the call. Soon you hear knocks on your door.

“Hi, come on in”, you usher Jay into your place. “Sit wherever you like, make yourself at home. If you’d like to drink, feel free to take it from the fridge. I’m gonna go get ready”, you tell him.

As you turn your back to leave, Jay grabs your wrist gently and turns you around. His hand then cups your face tenderly and he leans to kiss your lips. You freeze up for a tick before melt into it. Your hand moves to his chest, palm over his denim jacket.

Jay pulls away after a while, “Hi. I miss you”, he murmurs. You just blink owlishly and stay speechless.

“Now you can go get ready”, he commands you with a smile. You voluntarily follow his order. Jay shakes his head, amused. He was being honest when he said he misses you. For the whole day, he was hoping the unit wouldn’t get any urgent cases. Once it’s time to clock out, Jay quickly moved out of the district. The kiss though been something that he wanted to do since he met you at Will’s place. When Jay saw you opened the door before, he thought you’re cute with faded pink shorts that were drowned by an oversized white t-shirt. He just felt like it was the right time to properly kiss you.

As he waits for you to get ready, Jay looks around at your place. It’s an open-plan apartment. He can see almost every corner of it from the living room. A flat tv was hanging on the wall, in front of a cozy couch and a simple coffee table. On one corner, there is a small desk table with a mismatched but comfy looking chair. A laptop, headphones, and a microphone are sitting on the table. Next to it, there are an electric keyboard and a guitar. Cables plug and scatter around messily. He figures that’s where you do your work.

Jay walks to the kitchen to take a bottle of water from the fridge. You don’t have a dining table. Only a kitchen island with chairs on its outer side. On the fridge door, he can see a training schedule and some recipe cards. There are no pictures or drawings. Actually, he cannot find any family photos or even band posters around the place. The place looks kind of bare without any personal decoration. Jay wonders how long you’ve been living in this place.

Fifteen minutes later, you come out of your room in a cream-colored blouse and skinny blue jeans. Because Chicago weather always feels chilly to you, you put on a black light-jacket that fell slightly above your wrists. “Okay, I’m ready”, you fluff your hair a bit. You don’t have time to style it the way you like. So brush and fingers should do.

“You clean up nice”, Jay compliments you. He offers his hand for you to take.

“Well, thanks for the heads-up”, you respond jokingly as both of you step out of your place after you lock it down.

You and Jay casually chat while he drives. “How was your day?”, you genuinely want to know.

“It’s good. Any day without getting shot at is actually good. The gang told me to say hi to you, by the way”, he informs you.

“Really? How many people are there in your team? I was lowballing for breakfast the other day. I hope it’s enough”, you tilt your head curiously.

“No, you were great. No one was left hungry. Let’s see, there is my partner, Hailey Upton. We got Ruzek, Olinsky, and Dawson. Hank Voight is our boss. Who else did I miss? Hmm…Oh, Burgess and Atwater! So there’s eight of us”, Jay counts.

“And Sergeant Platt at the desk”, you remind him.

Jay lets out a laugh, “Right, that’s sweet of you to remember her”

“Well, no one can go in 21st District without her permission. So I have to take good care of her”, you humorously explain your reason.

Soon Jay parks his car. “The restaurant is just around the corner”, he shows you as you step out of his car. You walk side by side to the restaurant.

“Dawson told me this place is good but I’ve never been here before”, Jay informs you when he opens the restaurant door for you.

“Great, I like unknown places”, you cheerfully comment.

There is a friendly-looking older guy greets them at the door. “Hola! Welcome! My name is Carlos. Are you looking for a table for two?”

Jay gives him an affirmative nod, “Yes, please”

Carlos then guides both of you to a table. He lets you settle down and gives menu cards to review. A few minutes later, he comes back, “Ready to order?”

Jay looks at you questioningly. “Ah, can you tell me more about this one?”, you ask Carlos, pointing out an appetizing picture of a dish on the menu. The discussion is certainly longer than normal, but Carlos happily explains it to you. Finally, you pick your choice and so does Jay.

“I’m sorry. It must’ve been annoying to listen to”, you apologize to Jay once Carlos left.

“Not at all", Jay brushes it off. "It is actually interesting to see. The guy was ready to narrate all the tales about each dish when you ask”

“Yeah, thankfully he’s patient about it. Other places might have kicked me out before I can decide”, you snort a laugh. “That happened before. We were in New York. My best friend, Alex is a DJ. He was scheduled to play a gig at a club there. We planned to have an early dinner before going to the club. It was a fairly fancy restaurant. I remembered asking at least three questions for each dish before the waitress lost her patience, accused me of pranking her, and kicked us out. We were too shocked to say anything”, you giggle through your story. “Whenever we try new places now, I’m not allowed to order anymore”

"You're not just being polite when you mentioned you like unknown places", Jay remarks after laughing at your story.

"No, I truly like it. When we travel for work, we like to try places recommended by locals. Sometimes they do well, sometimes they don't. That's the fun in that", you justify.

"Is that why your place is rather bare? Because you travel all the time?", he pries.

"Ah no, not really. I.. I haven't been staying there long. Two months now", you hesitantly unfold.

"Oh, where do you live before?", he continues to probe.

"Amsterdam", you quickly respond, wishing he doesn't ask more about it.

"That's far. What made you move here?", Jay intrigues, unaware of your discomfort.

Before you can reply, a waiter comes with an appetizer and wine. He pours the wine into both of yours and Jay's glass, then leaves the bottle on the table. You softly exhale your relief, grateful for the distraction.

“Hmm, this is good”, you say after sipping your wine and tasting the food. “This place is very nice", as you look around the restaurant. "A good recommendation you received here, Jay”

"Yeah, Antonio rarely stirs us wrong", Jay agrees with you.

"Antonio is Gabby's brother, right?", you ask him.

"Yeah, you know her?", Jay returns with a tad surprised.

"Uhuh, Met her at Molly's", you answer shortly. It is not exactly a lie, but it is not the whole truth either. You did come to Molly's the night before the incident where Firehouse 51 saved you.

"Seriously? I can't believe we never met before. Our unit is a regular there! Even Will also frequently goes there", Jay baffles. You just giggle in response.

Easy conversation flows during dinner. Both of you certainly enjoy it. Soon the meal is finished and dessert is polished. While Jay settles the bill, you compliment the staff for the nice meal. Carlos bids farewell at the door with a small package of dulce de leche cookies. "Hope you enjoy the rest of your night!", he wishes you and Jay goodbye.

“What if we take a walk for a while, sober up from the wine?”, Jay suggests to you after leaving the restaurant. “Okay”, you readily agree.

Jay holds your hand when you both stroll along the sidewalk. The sky is quite clear. Even though you cannot see a lot of stars, the moon shines prettily. Both of you glance at each other a few times. Until you lock eyes with him, Jay stops his walk and turns to look at you. “Gosh, you’re gorgeous”, he states before kissing you tenderly on your lips.

One kiss turns two and another and another. It got more intense for each kiss. You’re not sure how long until you have to take a breather.

“Might be better if we go back now?” you sigh to his lips. He steals another kiss before replying, “Okay, we’re going now.”

◢◤

Your hand is shaking when you try to open your apartment door with Jay’s hands wrap around your waist. His body presses on your back while his lips nibble on your neck. Once you get in, you lead him to your bedroom. Jay sheds his and your clothes one by one in between kisses along the way. Both of you are topless when you reach your bedroom. You push him lightly to your bed and straddle him on his lap. The make-out session keeps going for a while. His hands then move from your ass to take off your jeans. He rolls on top of you and starts to peel your jeans from your legs.

You suddenly realize that he’s going to see the scar on your left leg, a souvenir from the incident. Jay can feel you stiffen when his knuckles graze your scar. “You okay?”, he tentatively asks you.

“Ah, yeah. I don’t know how I could forget about it. I’m sorry. I could cover it so you...”, you falter.

“What? What are you talking about?”, Jay confusedly interrupts.

You sit up and pointedly look at your left leg. There’s a long jagged line that goes along your left hamstring. Jay delicately touches it, but you jerk your leg away in reflex, “Sorry! Am I hurting you?”, Jay sounds worried.

“No, you’re not”, you fall back to your pillow and avoid looking at Jay. He moves to your right side and leans on his left elbow, facing you as he waits for you to speak.

“There’s was an incident, a couple months ago”, you begin to fill him in. “Alex was playing a gig at a nightclub on Fulton River District. I assisted him behind the stage”, you shudder as you recount the nightmare.

“One moment everything went alright, but then I saw the stage started to wobble. It collapsed quickly. I pulled Alex out of the way but I moved too slow...” Jay stays silent but holds your right hand and kisses the back of it.

“I was trapped under the rubble. My leg got pinned. Until Firehouse 51 pulled me out of there”. Jay instinctively squeezes your hand. “Torn the ligaments, got some nerve damage too. Been working on it ever since”, you unreliably conclude your story.

Jay is quiet for a while, but his hand moves to caress your face. “I’m gonna buy drinks for the whole 51 next time I see them at Molly’s”, he declares and then closes the gap to your lips. “For them to save you, so I can have you here, with me, right now”

He continues to kiss your neck, down to your shoulder, on top of your breast, your ribs. His lips keep moving south until he gets to your thigh. You try to pull your left leg away, but he is just not having it. He peppers your thigh and knee with soft kisses. “You don’t have to do that”, you whisper. “I know it’s off-putting”

“That’s where you are wrong. I see this as a beautiful sign that you survive” Jay fiercely says. “I got scars too, Y/N. Some even invisible. Are you appalled about my scars?”, he questions you.

“Of course not!” you exclaim.

“So you understand that I am not revolted by it”, his eyes look at you sincerely, before he puts your left leg on his right shoulder to kiss your scar.

Soon, he takes off his trousers and underwear, follows by pulling yours off. When he crawls back on top of you, you circle your hands around his neck and pull him down to kiss his lips passionately.

"I'm so glad I got a chance to meet you", Jay says before continues the night to make love to you.

Next on this fic : Part 6

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@shipshipshipau @itsdesiree86 @thevelvetseries @annaallicce

#fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #original work #one chicago #one chicago fic #chicago pd tv #chicago pd fic #jay halstead fic #jay halstead imagine #wyftiiffy

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bellafarallones2 · 3 years

Note

Please, consider writing a fic where the residents of Amnesty Lodge and the Pine Guard go to the WV Ren Faire. Sylphs don’t wear their disguises? Your choice of ships. Thank you so much for your writing!!!

thank you so much for the prompt!! this is kind of... ot4 adjacent? t rated. i also haven't been to a ren faire since i was a little kid so there's that

Going to a renaissance faire had been Joseph’s idea, and Duck had been happy to go along with it, because even if the faire itself turned out to be boring he’d at least get to enjoy looking at his boyfriend in shorts. They were walking hand-in-hand past the row of artists when Joseph stopped stock still.

“What?” said Duck, and followed Joseph’s gaze to a booth whose calligraphied sign read

INDRID COLD

FORTUNES TOLD

PORTRAITS PAINTED

The inner walls of the booth were hung with art, presumably the work of the pale-haired, dark-skinned man standing there.

Joseph dragged Duck over by the hand. “Is that Hercules fighting the hydra?” he said to the artist, gesturing to one of the larger paintings. Duck looked at it. The musculature of Hercules’s back was depicted a little too lovingly to be entirely heterosexual, but then again, you could say the same about Michelangelo. A seven headed-serpent loomed over him, iridescent scales and fangs dripping with venom. Another man held out a torch. A tiny brown crab crept towards Hercules’ heel.

“Good eye, my lord,” said the artist. “Yes, I’ve done quite a few mythological scenes.” Duck spotted a painting of Andromeda being rescued from the sea monster by Perseus, the water boiling at her feet, and a portrait of a beautiful, cruel-eyed Medusa. Some of the other art in the booth appeared to have been inspired by medieval illuminated manuscripts, like an epic battle between tiny knights and giant snails.

“Oh, God, I can’t pick which one I like the most,” muttered Joseph.

“Perhaps you’d be interested in a portrait of the two of you? It would be an honor to draw gentlemen as handsome as yourselves.”

Joseph looked to Duck for permission, and Duck shrugged. “It’d make a good souvenir.”

“Do you take card?” Joseph inquired.

“I don’t know the medieval way to say it, but yes.”

“Great! We’d like one of the full-color ones.”

He’d bought the most expensive kind, and Indrid gestured them to a couple of folding chairs. “Make yourselves comfortable however you like.”

“Can I be leaning against him?” said Stern.

“Sure.” Indrid arranged a pencil and a set of pastels at his side and sat down behind the easel.

Duck put his arm around Stern’s shoulder and took the opportunity to study the artist. He was quite good looking, and his eyes were clever on Joseph and Duck’s faces.

“Is this your first time at the faire?” Indrid asked politely.

“Yeah,” said Duck.

“My first time at this one,” said Joseph. “I used to go to one every year in Illinois, but I just moved to Virginia.”

“Well, welcome. I thought it might be your first time, I’d certainly remember seeing you before.”

When he finally turned the canvas around Joseph gasped. He’d done an excellent job. Captured, in fact, the features that he himself liked best about Duck. Strength and softness, dark brown hair barely streaked with gray, eyes that were just slightly different colors and a good-natured grin.

Duck, for his part, was looking at how Indrid had drawn Stern: capturing his uprightness perfectly, the way he looked slightly out-of-place in a t shirt. His perfectly combed hair and the intelligent gleam in his dark eyes. “Damn,” he said, and Indrid glowed from the praise.

“I’d like to buy the Hercules as well,” Joseph said. “It’d fit perfectly right above my desk.”

Indrid wrapped up the portrait and the Hercules painting, put them in a paper bag, and handed it over to Joseph, who immediately handed it to Duck to carry.

They said good-bye to Indrid and wandered on, though none of the other booths in the art section caught their attention. Then they watched the joust, livened up significantly by Joseph leaning down to whisper “that is not how people behave when they get stabbed” in Duck’s ear.

The area where the food stalls were was a cauldron of delicious smells, and after the joust Duck beelined towards a booth promising french onion soup. Only when he got close, Joseph on his heels, did he notice a familiar figure: Indrid was leaning on the counter talking to the man behind it. He smiled when Duck and Joseph came up next to him. “Oh, hello! I had the pleasure of painting these two’s portrait earlier,” he said to the man at the soup stall, whose name tag read BARCLAY.

“If you like Indrid’s art you must have good taste,” said Barclay.

“Thank you,” said Joseph, trying not to stare. Barclay had auburn hair and a beard that did nothing to conceal the handsomeness of the face beneath it, and he wore a sleeveless leather doublet that showed off his broad chest and beefy arms.

“What can I get for you?” Barclay said pleasantly.

“French onion soup in a bread bowl, please,” said Duck, already pulling out his wallet.

“Good choice!” said Barclay. “It’ll take me a minute to melt the cheese on top, but I think it’s worth it, don’t you?”

“Always,” said Duck, delighted to meet a fellow man of taste.

The soup, needless to say, was delicious despite, the heat of the day.

Indrid Cold, seer and artist extraordinaire, was bent over the sink in an Olive Garden bathroom, scrubbing at his shirt with the hand soap. Working ren faires wasn’t enough to pay the bills, so he was also a busboy, and today he’d tripped while carrying a full tray of plates. He’d managed to stop any of the plates from shattering, but someone’s half-eaten ravioli with marinara sauce had slid down his whole front.

Finally Indrid gave up and pulled his shirt off to clean it more effectively, and of course it was at that moment, with his shirt half over his head, that the door to the men’s room opened.

When he got the shirt all the way off his face went hot with humiliation. It was one half of the hot couple from the ren faire, the ones he’d almost given his number to, now dressed in a suit jacket and white button-down. And Indrid was standing there shirtless and smelling like garlic.

“Oh, hi!” the hottie said. “Indrid, right? From the ren faire?”

“Yes,” said Indrid miserably, trying to hide his skinny chest with his shirt.

“You’re having dinner here too?”

“No, I work here.”

“Oh, cool! Duck and I come here for date night sometimes. Uh, I’m Joseph by the way.”

Indrid perked up a little, since Joseph didn’t seem to be laughing at him. “It’s nice to meet you again!”

One of the waiters opened the door and leaned inside. “Indrid! Table seven needs clearing, and a wet shirt won’t kill you.”

Indrid looked sadly down at the shirt in his hand. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would make him miserable, and there were still four hours left in his shift.

“Want to switch shirts?” said Joseph. “We’re about the same size.”

“I can’t take your fancy shirt,” Indrid said.

“Sure you can. Duck will understand. And I’ll give you my number so we can trade back tomorrow.” He was already unbuttoning his shirt.

“Oh - okay!” said Indrid, and tried to squeeze as much of the water out of his own shirt as he could before handing it over. The fabric of Joseph’s shirt felt amazing against his skin, and it smelled like expensive cologne, and when he got it buttoned he realized it was a little too wide in the shoulders for him, even though he was taller. “I don’t have my phone on me,” he said. He usually left it in his locker while he was working.

Joseph pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Here, just put your number in mine. I’ll text you.”

Indrid took the extra second to add a spaghetti emoji next to his name before handing the phone back. “Thank you so much. I owe you one, seriously,” he said on his way back out the door.

Duck raised his eyebrows when Joseph came back to the table wearing a damp t shirt (he’d spent several minutes squeezing the rest of the water out of it) underneath his suit jacket. “I was starting to wonder if you’d fallen in,” Duck said.

“Nope! And you’ll never guess whose number I just got.”

#ot4

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aliendes · 4 years

Text

Natural Borns - Chapter Eleven (TRIGGER WARNING)

Banner by @thebannershop

Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, smut (NSFW)

Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNINGS!!! depictions of unwanted medical procedures, depictions of sexual assault - take this warning seriously, thoughts of death, suicidal thoughts?, wanting to die, restraints, needles, blood, crying, shitty medical descriptions (probably), depression, cursing, anxiety, a whole lot of sad and angst. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.

Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?

Word count: 8.1k~ it’s a big one

A/N: hi there! I apologize in advance for this horribly written chapter. I did not edit it, like I said I would, because life happened. This chapter is fucking heavy, man. But I wrote it in a way that you can completely skip this chapter if you want, and move on to the next one when it comes out. This chapter focuses entirely on what YN goes through at the facility and her escape. It will eventually be explained in later chapters in less detail, so if you don’t want to read about sexual assault, etc, then skip this one. I can’t stress this enough, if you are sensitive to any of the topics listed above, DO NOT READ THIS. You’ve been warned.

The younger two fall asleep rather quickly, having been spent from hiking all the way into town, but what Hoseok wouldn’t tell them is that he laid in bed until the early hours of the morning, listening to the soft sobs of Jungkook next door.

Your body was so dehydrated from crying over the last day, that even as you try to cry, no tears come.

The testing started this morning, with a nurse you didn’t recognize bringing you to a new room, a sterile, metallic room with a lot of medical equipment you’ve never seen before. It looked like an operating room out of one of your mom’s kdramas. It scared you, more than you were expecting, to see such a cold, lifeless environment.

Once you were alone with the nurse, she had you strip out of your white clothing, letting you know they were going to run some tests. You were hesitant, not wanting to be even more vulnerable in front of these strangers, but Yeonjun’s words echoed in your head. You need to comply, need to submit, or else - well, you didn’t want to think about what would happen if you didn’t.

Once you were undressed, you handed over your folded clothes to the woman, who put them into what looked like a laundry hamper. She had you lay on the bed, where she placed a thin white sheet over top of your body. For a moment, you felt like a corpse, ready to be sliced open and given an autopsy. The room you were in kind of reminded you of a morgue, at least, the temperature definitely resembled one.

Your time with the nurse wasn’t entirely unpleasant, though it was nearly freezing in the room, your naked body shivering every few minutes from the frigid temperature. She ran some basic tests, like checking your temperature, blood pressure, and drawing a few vials of blood. You felt like you were getting a check-up at the doctor’s office, and idly thought that if this was what it would be like, you supposed you wouldn’t mind being here too much. You were never really a fan of needles, but you’ve had your blood drawn a handful of times, and it was never too scary. The worst part about this was the freezing temperature, which you made a mental note to ask Soomin about later, if you saw her.

When the quiet nurse finished checking your ‘vitals’, as she had called it, she left you alone in the room, telling you to rest and a doctor would be in later to run some more tests. You complied, laying back on the stiff bed, and closed your eyes.

When you awoke next, you were met with a pair of icy grey eyes, behind a pair of round spectacles, staring down at you. You jump in surprise, head bumping against the hard table you’re laying on, making you grunt out in pain.

The man above you didn’t seem phased what so ever, and continued to stare down at you, clipboard in hand. When you take a moment to look at your surroundings, you realize that he isn’t the only person in the room, in fact, there are four other men in here with you, all staring at you with inquisitive eyes.

When you look down, you gasp out loud, realizing the thin sheet you had been covered with earlier had been removed from your body, leaving you completely nude and visible to these men. “I- I,” you start, bringing one arm up to cover your chest, the other coming down over your crotch, trying your best to shield yourself from their prying eyes, “I - hey!”

The man with the unnatural eyes moves closer to you and without your permission, grabs a lock of your hair gently, looking at it as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Your eyes widen as you stare at him, mouth slightly agape, feeling strangely violated, even though he didn’t actually touch your body.

“Seems natural,” the man stated, another, shorter, man behind him writing something down on his clipboard, “take note of the freckles.”

Your eyes get even wider as you watch the man take what looks like a pen… maybe a stick? You aren’t sure, and drags it down your cheek and under your chin, tilting your face up at him. Your breathing starts to quicken, as you feel almost like cattle at an auction, or a purebred dog at a show. It doesn’t feel natural, it feels wrong… dirty, like you’re about to be sold to the highest bidder.

“Perfect lip shape, even,” he tuts as he turns your head to the side, grey starting to dot your vision as your head swims with confusion and embarrassment, “ears are uneven though. We may need to fix that.”

Fix that!? What the hell did this guy mean?

The strange man let the pen drop and your head snapped to the side as you saw two female nurses, who you hadn’t noticed standing behind you until now, come up to flank either side of you. When you looked up to your right, you saw the quiet nurse from earlier, and she sent you an apologetic smile as she gripped your right arm. You looked on in horror as the nurse, whom you didn’t recognize, on your other side, grabbed your left arm, essentially pinning you to the table.

Now, with nothing to cover you, you try to squirm away from their grasp, wanting nothing more in the world than to be able to cover yourself. You felt so wrong, so violated, being on display for these people. It felt inhumane, and you wished with all of your might that it would end. There are salty tears streaming down your cheeks, mixing with mucous from your runny nose, as you plead with the two men who are nearing closer to you.

“P-please, please!” You squeal when one of them grabs your ankle, bringing up a restraint from under the table, locking it in place. “P-please!” You scream, your voice breaking as you plead with them to stop. Your cries are becoming erratic and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded at the lack of oxygen, but you don’t stop, you can’t stop thrashing and yelling as he grabs your other ankle and attaches it to the bed.

You’re so focused on trying to escape their clutches, that you don’t notice one of the other men step up to your side and inject your thigh with something, but you do feel the sting of the needle and the immediate cold shot that travels through your leg and up to your chest. Your eyes snap open at the feeling.

“W-what is happening, w-hat a-are you doing to me!” You scream, your voice cracking with the high pitch you’re involuntarily using.

The men around you don’t even seem to hear you, too engrossed in their disgusting survey of your body. It’s surreal, the way they continue their business like you don’t exist. You almost feel like you’re in a movie, and you’re watching this happen to someone else, someone you don’t know, but when you feel a cold, gloved hand on your calf, it snaps you back to reality.

Jerking your head up to get a better view of what’s happening, you see a different man from before, this one is tall and skinny, blonde hair, and has a scar on his right eyebrow, grasping your calf, squeezing at the muscle there. “Athletic muscles, I would say she either played a sport, or ran track.” The other men hum and nod as your mouth drops open as you continue to sob. What was happening to you?!

Before you can even start to process the absurdity of what was going on, you feel something cold poke at your crotch. Immediately you try to flinch away from it, looking down to see one of the men holding what looked like one of those metal things the gynecologist uses to do a checkup.

“N-NO!” You screech, trying with all your might to back away. It’s no use, as you are fully restrained, but you can’t watch this happen to you, you cannot bear to witness what was about to take place. “N-no! PLEASE, s-s-stop!” your voice waivers, but you do your best to keep your eyes trained on the man holding the tool.

Finally, for the first time, the man acknowledges your presence by looking at you. He’s middle-aged, salt and pepper hair with a black goatee. Your face twists further in pain as he looks as you, a cold stare almost as if he’s looking right through you. The expression he wears is one of boredom, like you’re nothing but a nuisance to him right now. You sob harder at the thought that you were no longer seen as a human, a person with feelings and thoughts, but merely as a test subject, a body, flesh and bones.

“I-I’m a virgin,” you whisper in the smallest voice you think is possible, eyes unable to focus on anything as your pupils twitch nervously. Your mouth is falling open and snapping closed like you want to say more, but you’re unable to form anymore words.

You look down in horror as the man’s expression doesn’t change, instead, he seems to… smirk. You throw your head back against the table and scream out as he inserts the tool into your body, the foreign stretch painful. Your body is wracked with painful sobs as he continues his inspections, gloved fingers entering you and feeling around. It hurts, it hurts so bad, and it feels so fucking wrong. You feel so disgusting.

All you can do is cry on the table and let them finish whatever the hell they were doing, when finally you feel him pull away from you. You let out a sigh, eyes slipping closed as you feel like it’s finally over, blood rushing to your head, making your ears pound.

“Definitely a virgin,” the man says to his colleagues, “we will run a few more tests to make sure she’s fertile, but so far it seems she will be the perfect specimen.”

Yeonjun’s words from before rush back into your head, swimming around your brain. They were going to breed you, to use your body and your eggs to create more human beings like you. Like the boys. And you couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

“We can start the hormones tomorrow, but we need to make sure her eggs are viable. We can do an extraction today.”

Your eyes pop open at this, your breathing still ragged as you listen to the men talk about you, the female nurses still holding your arms tightly, despite the fact that you’ve long since given up fighting. You don’t think you have any more fight left in you.

“Yes sir, we’ll get it done within the hour,” another man answers the other before walking out of the room. Your crying has turned into wheezing sobs as the rest of the men follow after him.

“Don’t feed her,” the salt and pepper man says to the nurses, “hook her up to an IV and get some fluid in her. She can’t be dehydrated for the procedure.” His tone was cold, uncaring as he spoke to the nurses who nodded in response.

When he turns to leave, he makes it all the way to the door before turning around, one hand on the doorknob, and looks directly at you. “I’ll be back for you later,” he starts, looking down and seemingly chuckling to himself, “you’re going to be fun.”

You pale at his words as he exits the room, leaving you and the nurses in utter silence. You don’t have much experience with people, other than your schoolmates, Mina, Woo, and the boys, but you understand the hidden meaning in his words, and it absolutely breaks whatever resolve you have left to stay strong. Your walls crumble down, silent sobs wracking your small frame as you weep on the exam table.

You’re so far gone in your dark thoughts you don’t realize the nurses have inserted an IV drip into your arm and secured both arms to the table with some kind of elastic restraints. Before they leave you to the depths of your mind, they drape the thin sheet back over you. They tried to speak to you, to let you know they’d be back, but you didn’t hear them. Their words fell on deaf ears as you lose yourself to the memory of Jungkook’s lips on yours.

Your first kiss. You mentally smile at the image of the two of you standing together near that stream, a storybook setting where he stole your first kiss. You hold on to that, because if you could have one first that is by choice, you’re glad it was with the sweet bunny boy, in a place so beautiful.

You’re so lost in the pitiful depths of your own mind, that you don’t notice a doctor and the two nurses from before entering the exam room. You’re still strapped to the table, but have long since given up struggling. It was no use, your arms were tightly at your sides, ankles locked onto the table. You’re resigned yourself to silently sobbing, thinking about what your life is doomed to end up like.

You long for the things you never got to experience before you were taken here, and a dark, self-deprecating part of you blames yourself for being so prude and stubborn. Your first kiss was just yesterday, and you’ve never done anything more than that, despite the plentiful offers from boys and men in your town.

You’ve never had a boyfriend, never properly held hands or cuddled with someone you shared feelings with, you’ll never have the chance to choose who you want to have sex with. You shudder at that thought, another sob making you heave.

“YN?”

You’re so weak, so entirely not yourself, you don’t have the will nor the energy to look at whoever is speaking to you. Instead, you continue staring up at the bright white ceiling, tears still silently rolling down your cheeks. You haven’t been able to wipe at them, and the wetness is starting to pool uncomfortably at your ears.

“YN, I’m Dr. Kim,” a kind voice continues, despite your lack of answer, “I’m going to be performing your procedure today.”

Your eyes slip shut, waiting for him to explain just what ‘procedure’ he means. He sounded kind, maybe, but you’ve learned not to trust anyone here, so you just wait.

The nurse next to you grunts in exertion as she drags a heavy cart to your bedside, beginning to set up what you assume are tools for whatever is about to happen to you. “YN we’re going to attempt an egg extraction. I’m going to numb you, so hopefully it’s not too uncomfortable for you, but I’m not going to lie and say it won't hurt.”

You almost roll your eyes at his caring tone of voice, you know it’s all fake. They don’t care about you, about your body, you’re just a sack of flesh, or you suppose eggs, in this case, to them. The nurse to your right starts removing the thin sheets from your body, making you wince away as much as you can at the touch. Every single touch against your skin makes you shiver, you wish they would just stop touching you.

Once the nurse has the sheet down low enough, exposing your arm and entire upper half, she gets to work inserting an IV into your arm, to which you don’t react. Maybe whatever they pump into you will make you sleep, or forget, or maybe die. You let out a humorless, dark chuckle, making the nurses look at you wearily. It’s anything but funny that you’ve been put in a position where you’d rather die than continue, but it’s a little ironic, isn’t it?

Your parents kept you shielded your entire life, never letting you have many friends, never letting you explore the town on your own, hell, you couldn’t even attend college. Your life was planned out for you from the beginning, since before you were even born. You were promised to a fate that was now a reality. Had you gone against their wishes, maybe you would’ve been able to experience some of the things that are now being violently ripped away from you, or maybe you would’ve been met with a nefarious end, but it couldn’t have been much worse than what’s happening now.

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t realize the nurse has already administered something into your IV that is making your head feel a little floaty. When you try to wiggle your fingers and toes, you can still feel them, but they feel tingly, almost. It’s a strange feeling you don’t think you’ve ever experienced before. You furrow your brow as you feel your legs being moved against your will. When you try to pick your head up to look at them, you can’t, which freaks you out even more, but before you can voice your thoughts, an oxygen mask is placed over your face, aiding in making you even more dizzy.

Your eyes must’ve slipped closed at some point, because all you see is black. Are you sleeping? If you’re sleeping, then why do you feel so much pressure in your lower stomach? You try with all your might to open your eyes, but you fail every time. Next, you try moving your arms, your hands, anything, but nothing will move.

Absently, you feel the pressure in your abdomen increase, but you aren’t sure what the feeling is, as you’ve never felt something quite like it. It almost feels as if someone is trying to push out of your stomach from the inside. It’s weird, and almost painful. You try to focus on the feeling, hoping that it might ground you and make you more lucid than you are currently, but all it does is make you hyper focus on the almost-pain and that makes it more intense.

You want to yell out, to say something, to scream at whoever is pushing (pulling?) on your guts to stop! But you can’t. All you can do is lay there, stiff as a board, while whatever is happening to you continues to happen. Just when you think the pressure is starting to let up a bit, you feel an intense sharp pain on your left side of your body, near where you think your bladder is located.

If you were more conscious, you would have definitely rolled over or keeled over in pain at the feeling. It was sharp, like a needle or a knife, jabbing into you and then immediately pulling back. It felt kind of like if you were to pinch your skin really tightly between fingernails and then let go. The pain was instant and is slowly starting to subside, but left behind is a deep burning sensation that is akin to rug burn that you get when you skin your knee on the carpet. What the fuck is happening to you?

After the sharp pain, you feel the pressure retract from your body, and you are just mentally aware enough to remember your pelvic exam earlier. Whatever pressure you were feeling must’ve been through your vagina, if you had to wager a guess. The thought, while foggy, made you want to vomit.

The man in the room earlier said something about an extraction, was that what they just did to you? Were they extracting your eggs? Or were they inserting something into you? Whatever it was, it absolutely terrified you. Your mind flashed through all the possibilities: a tracking device, some kind of contraption, contraceptives, an embryo?! The last one terrified you beyond measure. Yeonjun had mentioned how they wanted to breed you, like some animal from a farm, was that what they were doing to your body?

While you were so caught up in your racing thoughts, you realize that whatever they did to you left behind a pulsing, burning, feeling where the initial pinch was felt, and you idly wondered if they would be putting pain medication in your IV, or if they would let you suffer. Probably suffer, you thought. Before you could really think much about it, you felt the strange pressure again, only this time you were certain it was between your legs.

Whatever they had given you earlier to make you loopy felt like it was slowly starting to wear off, and you started to hear voices talking beside you and you felt the sharp, pinching pain again, only this time it was on your right.

“They seem viable,” a man’s voice trailed off. You’re unsure if he stopped talking or your just stopped hearing, but the next voice you heard was distinctly female.

“She’s bleeding, doctor.” The voice sounded so calm. Surely blood couldn’t be a good thing, right? As you thought this, you felt something being roughly pulled out of you, making your whole body jerk downwards on the table. This time, the burning sensation was stronger, intense, in a way you couldn’t quite comprehend.

It felt like a hot knife was being twisted inside your middle, hot, sharp, but also, wet? The pain was so intense, even if you could move, you don’t think you’d physically be able to. You were still too out of it to move your body or open your eyes, but you could feel the pain full fledged now, sending alarm bells off in your brain.

You were dying.

You had a gut feeling of impending doom, one of which you haven’t ever had before in your short twenty three years of existence. You were bleeding out on this damned table. You could feel it. Aside from the fact that you felt like your stomach had just exploded from the inside out, you could feel the blood running out of you. It was warm, almost hot, sticky, and wet. You could feel it begin to pool under your thighs and start to seep up your back. You were so certain that you were about to meet Death himself.

Would that be such a bad thing, though? You try to temporarily distract yourself from the pain, and now pressure of someone pushing on your abdomen, by wondering what it might feel like to die. You were shocked that you even had the wherewithal to think these things, when your lower half was literally on fire, but you always have had a high pain tolerance. If this was dying, you thought, it wasn’t so bad. Maybe you would finally be out of your misery.

Your last coherent thought after you heard the shouting of multiple people around you, was of the bunny boy, and his lips against yours.

Cold. Bare, and cold. Those were the only two words running through your mind as you hugged your arms tightly to yourself, eyes squeezed shut, as you sat shivering on the cold ground. Where were you? You looked down at your body, only to gasp aloud at what you saw. You pull your hands away from your legs, seeing you are completely naked, covered in blood from the waist down.

Immediately you try to stand up, panic settling in your bones as you spin around, taking in your surroundings.

What the fuck is happening…

You’re completely surrounded by darkness. Is this a dream? You look down to see you’re standing in what looks like really shallow water. You can’t feel any pain, even though you look like you’ve just been brutally stabbed, so you realize this must be a dream, or some sort of creepy purgatory.

You lean down to tap at the water substance, only to find the surface of it to be completely reflective, and you see yourself staring back up at your pale, thin face. You can’t remember what you look like in real life, but you blankly think that this isn’t what you looked like last time you looked in a mirror.

You look sick, dead, even. Your face is so thin and sunken in, it looks like you’ve been starved for weeks. Quickly, you tear your eyes away from the reflection, not wanting to dwell on why you’re dreaming up these things… You furrow your brow as you wrap your arms back around your frame.

It’s chillingly cold, wherever you are. Dreamland, purgatory, Hell, you aren’t sure anymore. All you know is you don’t want to be here anymore. You want to go home. Home. Where is your home, now? You silently let even more tears fall down your cheeks at the reminder that you’re stuck in that god forbidden laboratory, and you’ve suddenly wanted nothing more than to run into your mother’s arm. She took care of you, right? She must harbor at least some sort of love for you.

You sniffle, shaking your head back and forth, trying to rid yourself of your thoughts of them. They aren’t your family. You don’t even know if they are your biological parents, as you haven’t had the chance to ask any questions in this hellscape.

This hell… you start to recall what was happening right before you lost consciousness. Floating, you remember the feeling of floating and falling all at the same time. You remember not really being in the right frame of mind, but you also remember an intense pressure.

You gasp, hands flying down to grip at your lower abdomen. The pain, the pinching and burning, originated in your lower belly. When you look down to the spots your hands are covering, you don’t see anything, no outwards signs of abuse or pain. But it’s then that you see the steady drops of blood that have been falling from you, from your…

No. No, no, no. You slowly reach a hand down to run a finger through the crimson blood trailing down your inner thigh, only to bring it back up towards your face. With shaky eyes and gaping mouth, you realize that whatever they did, whatever caused the bleeding, had to do with your reproductive system.

How much blood had you lost? You blink away the tears as you fall to your knees on the wet ground, black water splashing around your pathetic frame. You let out a sob, only to realize you aren’t actually making any noise. Now that you think of it, you haven’t heard any noise since you ‘woke up’ here. You haven’t even heard your own cries or sniffles. You must be dead, that was the only thing your muddled brain could think of seeing how much blood was pooled underneath you.

A sinister smile spreads across your face as you close your eyes and throw your head back. If you were really dead, that meant you were far, far away from those monsters. You could finally rest, even if it was in this soundless, black abyss. Regardless of how bloody you were, you felt no pain, not like the excruciating pain you had been in before you lost consciousness. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. You think you’re lightly laughing, relishing in the thought that you could be rid of Big Hit, rid of your family, and rid of pain, but you can’t hear anything coming from your throat.

You slowly lay yourself down in the cool water, rolling onto your side, as you let the blood continue to flow. If you were going to die, at least you wouldn’t feel it.

“She lost a lot of blood,” a woman’s voice speaks into the quiet room, “we did our best, but there was a lot of damage to the ovaries.”

“What do you mean, damage?” A gruff tone asks the female.

You furrow your brows, your brain getting whiplash from seeping in and out of consciousness so often. You could hear a conversation taking place above you, but you weren’t sure who was there with you, or even where you were. You didn’t feel cold and wet anymore, but you could feel a dull pulsing in your stomach.

“Well, Doctor Kim said that only one was a viable ovary before the procedure, the other never having produced eggs…” the voice trailed off.

“But?” The only sound that could be heard over their conversation, was the beeping of a machine in the distance.

“But the other ovary was lost,” the woman says, reluctantly.

Confusion takes over you as the pulsing in your abdomen increases, bordering on painful.

“Fucking hell,” the man mutters, anger taking over his tone, “I told you idiots to be careful with this one. We need her. We can’t further this research without her.” The man sighs, exasperated, before he adds hotly, “Get out. Now!”

A door can be heard opening and closing quickly, leaving the only sounds in the room the faint beeping and the man's heavy breathing.

A few beats pass before the man approaches your prone body, running a hand up and down your arm. “Pretty little thing,” he tsks, “such a shame.”

Your barely conscious body tenses at the man’s words and touch. As he leans over you, caging your body in, you recognize it’s the salt and pepper man from before. Your eyes snap open just as his lips are about to collide with yours. Eyes wide and panic stricken, you abruptly sit up, smacking your face into his and making him stumble backwards, hand clutching his nose.

“You bitch!” he stutters out, knocking into a small metal table holding medical tools.

Your heart rate picks up, sending you tumbling into a fight or flight response, of which your body chooses the later. Jumping up quickly from the bed you were sitting on, you try to make a run for the door, but scream loudly when you feel the man’s hand around your waist, pulling you down to the ground on top of him.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!” he screams, gripping onto your hips tight enough to bruise. You’re screaming bloody murder, trying to get out of his grip. You can feel the burning sensation in your abdomen grow with the exertion, but you don’t give up, trashing and twisting in his grip. “Stop fucking moving you whore!”

The man’s large hand leaves your middle, allowing you to move slightly away from him, before he reaches out and grips your long hair, pulling you roughly to the ground, the back of your head cracking sickeningly against the linoleum. Your eyes squeeze shut at the piercing pain shooting through your skull, a silent scream on your face.

The man moves himself so he’s on his knees, hand still wrapped tightly in your hair. He picks your head up slightly, only to slam it back into the floor for good measure. You whimper out in pain, unable to open your eyes at the searing feeling in the back of your skull. “You really think you can go anywhere? You’re fucking trapped in here, and you just made a very, very terrible mistake, young lady.” His tone was sinister, deep, and taunting. He was enjoying this, chasing you. “You could’ve laid there and taken this, could’ve been a good girl. But no, you chose this, remember that you slut. This is your fault!”

He stands up abruptly, taking your body with him and letting your body flail in his grasp as he moves back towards the hospital bed. He drags you behind him like a caveman, throwing you roughly onto the hard bed and immediately crawling over top of you. As soon as he is over you, you bang both of your hands against his chest, but it doesn’t make him budge. There are tears streaming down your face, and you don’t realize you’re still screaming until he slams a hand over your mouth, making your eyes bulge nearly out of your head. You try your hardest to shake your head back and forth to get him to release his tight grip on you.

“You’re going to shut. The. Fuck. Up. And take what I give to you, you stupid fucking bitch.”

The panic starts to rise, ten-fold in you, as you thrash even harder under this man. His grip on your mouth doesn’t let up, not even a little, as he brings his other hand up to land a slap to your cheek, making more tears flow down your face. The weight of what is about to happen to you sits heavy on your chest as you squeeze your eyes closed again.

“Such a pretty whore,” he whispers, bringing his hand to your chest, groping at your breasts under your hospital gown, “I’ll fuck this fight right out of you, girl.”

You scream as loud as you can against the palm of his hand as he rips away the front of your hospital gown and throws it behind him blindly. You’re screaming and crying, sniffling as snot coats the inside of the man’s palm. You’re screaming ‘no’, over and over again, but it’s only coming out as muffled noises. You don’t think anyone would even be able to hear you if you were able to scream, the doors were made of a thick metal.

Your mind briefly flashes to Seokjin, the gentle man with large hands that would soothingly rub up and down your back. The man on top of you continues to rip at your clothing, the thin white sports bra you don’t even remember someone putting on you, comes off you at lightning speed, being thrown behind him like the gown. You try to focus on Seokjin and what his soft, gentle hands would feel like. You try to remember what it felt like when he gently wrapped your wounds and rubbed your back in the shower.

Slowly, your tears start to let up, your sniffles getting lighter, as you imagine Jin’s hands are the ones touching your breasts, groping your thighs. It’s hard, because the man above you is so rough, his hands are nothing like Seokjin’s. They are rough and cracked and calloused, and you want nothing more than for Jin to be here, to soothe your wounds, to take care of you. The opposite of what is currently taking place.

You’re ripped from your thoughts when the man dips his thick, gross fingers under the hem of your white panties, pulling them roughly from your body with a snap. You barely register the pain of the elastic snapping against your hips, distracted from the searing hot pain in your lower belly when the man pushes your hips down.

You try to scream out in pain again, but it comes out as a garbled yell that turns into a sob when you feel his hands trailing down your stomach and dipping between your legs. This can’t be happening, you open your eyes only to find the man staring back at you, lust in his gaze. It makes you sick, and you think you’re about to vomit when he speaks again.

“You’re so wet, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you, slut?” He bites his lip and your eyes widen as he runs a finger through your slit. The pain that shoots through your body is immediate, your vagina still incredibly sore from the earlier events. You let out a high pitch noise in pain, trying your hardest to move your hips away from his touch, but he doesn’t let up, only pushing you down into the mattress harder by his hand on your face. “Gonna fuck this virgin pussy until you’re screaming for more.”

Before he can say anymore, you move your head up slightly and bite down as hard as humanly possible on the top of his hand. He immediately releases you, stumbling back off the bed, cursing loudly, as blood flows from his hand.

You spit out the blood that got in your mouth, to your side. When you look down, your eyes widen in horror at the spot of blood already on the mattress, presumably from his earlier ministrations on your already battered vaginal area. You’re panting, heart racing as you meet the man’s eyes again, only this time they are filled with anger, not lust.

The man charges at you again, making you back into the wall the bed is pushed against. “You fucking whore! Didn’t I tell you to shut up and take it?!” He screams in your face as he kneels on the bed, you try to scramble away from him, but you’re just met with the wall again, making you scream out as he pulls his fist back, before colliding it with your jaw. As he pulls back to land another hit, the door slams open.

“Dr. Byun!”

The man in question whips his head around towards the source of the sound, only to find the yellow haired therapist, Yeonjun.

“Your hand! Sir, you’re bleeding!” Yeonjun rushes forward, quickly taking in your broken and tattered appearance, pursing his lips, and turns towards Dr. Byun.

“T-This isn’t what it looks like, boy,” the doctor starts, standing up and cradling his bleeding hand against his chest, “you didn’t see shit, you hear me?”

“Yes sir, I understand. But you should really get that looked at, it looks deep and you could need stitches.”

Yeonjun looks like he is purposely ignoring you, trying to coax the older man out of the room. You cower into the corner as far as you can, pulling the thin white sheet with you to cover your form. You can’t help the sobs that emit from your small frame, sending a shiver down the therapist’s spine.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Dr. Byun mutters, walking towards the door, “call Jiwoo to take care of the specimen.”

You flinch at the name. Specimen, that’s all you are, right?

“Will do, doctor. Please, get yourself fixed up.” Yeonjun turns towards the man, bowing ninety degrees as he exits the room.

He waits a moment before turning back around, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for what he’s about to see.

When he turns around, you’re curled into a small ball, face against your knees, bawling likes he’s never seen anyone cry before. He’s worried you are going to suffocate yourself with how ragged your breathing seems to be, so he approaches carefully.

When he reaches the bed, he is unsure of how to proceed, so he gently reaches out to try and touch your elbow to let you know he’s there, but you jerk back, eyes snapping up to his as you let out a panicked scream. Yeonjun flinches and pulls back immediately, holding both hands up to let you know he means to harm, but you can’t focus on much else than what just took place. You were almost raped, you were raped. Your mind was starting to regress, trying to pull you away from the horror you just witnessed, and Yeojun, a trained therapist, could see it clearly.

He needed to get you out of here, fast, or who knows what would happen to you.

“YN, listen to me, honey,” he spoke quietly, making you look up at him helplessly, tears still actively flowing from your red rimmed eyes, “I want to help you, okay? I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to protect you from that man. Protect you from this place, okay? Can you hear me, YN?”

You look up at him, fear in your eyes, but nod along to his words anyways, trying your hardest to not let your mind slip, but it’s getting more difficult as you start to hyperventilate. Yeojun inches closer to you, taking your nod as permission, and places a gentle hand on your arm. His hand is warm, and soft, nothing like Dr. Byun, and it just makes you cry harder.

“YN, hey, look at me, please?” Yeojun asks quietly, prompting you to stare at the yellow haired male, “breath, sweetie. Deep breath, hold it. Relax.” You nod your head as you let out a deep breath through your nose, your fear addled mind deciding it would be okay to trust him. “Good, very good. Now, YN, I need you to listen, okay? I’m going to get you out of here. This isn’t a safe place for you, right?” You shake your head, biting your lip so hard you draw blood. “Okay, good. This is risky, YN so I need you to listen carefully.”

Silent tears slip down your cheeks, but Yeojun is quick to wipe them away, making your eyes slip closed at the kind gesture. “I’m going to wrap you up in that sheet, okay? It’s 2 AM right now, and there aren’t many guards on duty. We’re gonna sneak out of here, but I need you to be as quiet as a mouse. Can you do that for me?” Yeojun spoke softly and slowly, making sure to tap into the childlike mindset you were starting to fall into.

“O-o-okay,” you mutter out, tears, snot, and blood running down your face as you sniffle again. Your breaths are coming out in hiccups, and Yeonjun runs a soft hand carefully up and down your arm to calm you down.

“Shh, YN. Relax for me, I’m gonna get you out of here. Away from the awful man. I need you to trust me, do you trust me?”

You nod your head quickly, wanting nothing more than to escape this nightmare.

“Good. I’m going to pick you up now, is that okay?” You nod your head again, but tighten your grip on the thin sheet, now stained red with blood from various places on your body. Yeonjun utters a curse under his breath as he notices just how much you’re bleeding.

Without another word, Yeonjun scoops his arms underneath you and picks you up, cradling you against his chest. True to his word, he wraps the sheet tightly around you, but you still shiver, nonetheless. Moving quickly towards the door, he maneuvers his body so his scan card attached to his belt loop, scans on the door, opening it up. Peeking out in both directions, he slowly makes his way towards the cargo elevators located at the back of the building, careful to stay away from the security cameras along the way.

He knows this could get him killed, but a lot of things he’s done in his two years working here could get him killed. This time he wasn’t planning on coming back, no. They would realize quickly that you were gone and would figure out it was him that took you. You both had to run, preferably far from here.

Hugging you closer to his chest, Yeonjun runs up to the elevator, scanning his badge against the wall again. As he enters the elevator, he hears your soft whimpers against his shirt, and realizes that you’re shaking violently.

“Shit. YN, YN hey, I need you to stay awake for me,” Yeojun whispers, adjusting you so he can look at your face. Your eyes are closed and you’re having trouble keeping your head upright, letting it loll against his forearm. “Ah fuck! Hey, sweetie, we’re almost to my car, but I really, really need you to focus on my voice, okay?” Yeojun whispers loudly as he steps off the elevator and into the parking garage, running quickly to his dark blue sedan. You let out a soft groan as he jostles you slightly to reach his keys in his back pocket.

“I’ve got you, YN,” he says, opening the back door and laying you down against the cool leather. “You’re gonna be okay, you hear me? Hold on just a little longer.”

Yeojun closes the door and jumps into the driver’s seat, starting up the engine and making his way out of the garage unseen.

From the backseat, your drowsy state was making it hard for you to pay attention, but you tried to listen to Yeojun’s words from earlier, you wanted to be good, wanted to make him happy. You needed to focus.

“YN, can you hear me?” You let out a small groan from the back, letting him know you were listening, “Good, I need you to focus on me, okay? I’m calling Namjoon, I’m gonna let him talk to you.”

Your ears perk up at the thought of hearing Namjoon’s voice, and it’s that excitement that keeps you awake while you listen to the ringing of a phone echo throughout the small car. You head lolls to the side, giving you a full view of the blue lights on the dash. It’s blurry, but you try to focus on all the little buttons, trying to make out what each picture was, a feeble attempt to stay awake.

“Hello?” Namjoon’s deep voice, plagued with sleep, rings through the car.

“Joon, are you still at Wonho’s place?”

You hear shuffling on the other side of the phone before his voice rumbles out, “Yeah, yeah. What’s up?”

You whimper at the sound of his voice, wanting nothing more than to yell out for him, to scream and cry and beg for him.

“YN? Is that YN? What the hell is going on?”

“Calm down, Joon,” Yeojun soothes in the soft voice of his, “I have her. I had to get her out, I couldn’t wait any longer. W-what I walked into…” he trails off and you flinch at the reminder. Yeojun notices through the rearview mirror and decides he won't go into further detail.

“Yeonjun, what the fuck do you mean?”

“Shh, Joon, please. She’s not in good shape, please just let me bring her to you. She badly needs a doctor, she’s lost a lot of blood.”

“B-blood, what - what the fuck do you mean,” Namjoon’s voice wavers, and you hear shuffling again, “YN? Can you hear me?”

“She can hear you, but she’s barely conscious.”

You make a small noise again, trying your hardest to let him know you’re there, you’re alive. “YN, baby, please stay with me,” more shuffling and grunts from another male sound through the car, “we’re all here, we’re all waiting for you, okay? Please, please make it back to us.”

You hear a faint echo of your name in the background, and then footsteps and doors slamming as Yeojun tries to calm him down again, “Namjoon, I need you guys to stay calm, okay? I’m almost there, and I need you to prepare yourselves for what you’re gonna see. Keep Kook and the twins away, yeah?”

“YN?!” Seokjin. You let out a pitiful wail at the sound of his voice, and you can hear audible sobs on the other end of the phone. “YN, love, I’m so sorry, so so sorry.” You hear Jin’s choked sobs, and it only makes you cry harder, longing for him to be there.

“She’s going to need medical help, Jin, are you going to be able to handle it? I need you to pull yourself together, do it for YN.” Yeojun soothes again. You can barely make out the sounds of a phone moving around through the car speakers, before you hear Namjoon’s voice again.

“We got it Yeonjun, please, just hurry.”

“Almost there, give me ten minutes.”

You cry softly as Yenojun hangs the phone up and turns slightly to smile at you from the front briefly before turning back towards the road. “We’re almost there, YN,” he whispers, “you’re gonna be okay, just stay awake a little longer.”

You try, you really do. But the soft hum on the passing cards outside, and the gentle tone of Yeonjun’s voice lull you to sleep, the last thing on your mind is Seokjin’s warm embrace.

To be continued...

2nd authors note: hi. sorry for the horribly written, yet sad and graphic chapter. it was a little cringe, so I apologize. this was meant to give perspective to how YN is going to be going forward in the story. she is definitely going to be changed. let me know what you think!

Taglist: @jooniebias10 jooniebias10 @sammiilynn10192 @minifruity @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz @chim-possible @kooksremedy @irishhbamb @sugashaye @lovelyseomin @strawberrygatorade @kookiebbyxx @itneverends15713

#bts x reader #poly bts smut #poly bts angst #bts angst #bts smut

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thecaptainhelm · 4 years

Text

Aesthetically Pleasing

Super excited, so without further delay, here is my day one. Also heads, my writing style is doing that weird evo thing so if the tone is weird, that’s why. And the minimal editing, that too. ;D

Day 1: Inspiration

@daminette-december2019-2020

Damian walked through the streets of Paris at a sedate pace with the bare essentials, in no particular hurry as he made his way to the address written in his sketchbook. He hasn’t been to France much, not since his days with the Shadows, and even then he only stayed in this particular city for the rare surveillance mission.

It’s different somehow, he mused. Father had taken him and the rest of the family for a ‘pleasure jaunt’, while he touched base with the European branch of the Justice League. For the sake of a cover story, he publicized it as family vacation and encouraged everyone to take a few days to themselves before they made fools of themselves for the local and international media houses. Not something he was looking forward to, so he would make the most of these next few days.

Soon, he found himself at the entrance of a secluded park, the metal plaque translating to Solitude’s Grace in english. It was relatively new and was constructed to convert an old parking lot into a small and intimate park, at least when compared to others in the city. Plentiful flora, Edwardian columns and street lamps providing him with a sense of being stuck in time, a romanticized feeling.

He made his way in, taking a deep breath as he did so. With the way the park was constructed, it’s distance from the busy tourist sites, and the muffling effect of the surrounding hedge fence, the park is quiet and comforting. He sets out on a stone path, occasionally passing by others who seem to find the same relief he does in being alone. He sighs this time, heading further in to find a place to sit. If there’s one disadvantage to this place, it’s that everyone wants a seat to themselves, and he didn’t feel like sitting next to someone on the off chance of them trying to make conversation.

As he goes, the overcast sky breaks somewhat and opens over an occupied stone bench, revealing a girl who appears to be around his age. In that moment, were he a different kind of man, he would have called a sight like this a chance from fate. As he got closer, he saw that she was cute, quite pretty in fact. Her legs were clad in washed out skinny jeans, white polka dotted converse and a white vest to tie it all together. Her hair was pulled into twin tails over her shoulders, shining like silk in her temporary spotlight. The sudden light reflected off of her pale skin and emphasized her silhouette with a divine halo.

However, what truly captivated him was her presence. She exuded a relaxed and casual atmosphere, flipping through a small sketchbook, occasionally jotting something down tongue stuck out of a focused grin. In that instant he saw the scene before him as a moment of indulgence, a moment to enjoy a hobby and unwind in nature.

A familiar feeling spread through his chest as he observed her, fingers twitching. He knew what this feeling was, he knew it very well, little as it happened.

He watched her lean onto her palms, seeing the relaxed curve of her spine as she tilted her head up to look up at the gap of sunlight as it moved over to him, and then her eyes, a stunning blue that widened slightly as she caught sight of him. He saw the way they brightened, and knew that she felt as he did, too. He changed direction and made his way to the mysterious beauty.

His breath stuttered in his chest as she stood to make her way to him as well. With every move she made he found her all the more beautiful.

The tilt of her smile, the roving of her eyes up and down his form, the sunlight providing a fading halo as she moved toward him--

“Salut,” he said at the same time she said, “Hello.”

“Oh, désolée,” she stammered over his own, “My apologies, I’ve--”

They both fell into silence before she abruptly started laughing, and heavens, if he thought that she was pretty before then seeing her so expressive was like waking up to dream.

“Amazing,” he murmured to himself, and patiently waited for her to regain control.

“I’m sorry,” she said in english, her accent pronounced. “I’ve been speaking to tourists all day for the past few weeks. I’ve formed an unfortunate habit.”

“There’s no need for apologies, I believe. Also, if I may say, I think the lady speaks beautifully.” He bowed with an arm across the waist.

“My name is Damian. This may seem brusque, but I have a request to make of you, should you deign to hear me out.” Her eyebrow quirked at his polite speech but it didn’t last as she looked at him more seriously.

She observed him for a moment, a brief period that seemed to stretch on for minutes as her eyes pierced through his.

“Well, as long as it’s reasonable. And,” she paused, gazing intensely at his...shoulders?

“And, if you grant one of mine.” She grinned brightly and clasped her fist in her palm.

“My name is Marinette. Enchanté, Damian.”

He nodded and nodded back to her bench. She nodded in return and soon they sat facing each other.

“I’ll be honest, this is a little weird, you think? At least, if you’re thinking what I’m thinking.” Marinette started, fidgeting as she spoke.

“Then I believe great minds think alike, Marinette. This is rather forward of me, but I would like you to pose for me.” He held up his sketchbook and opened it to a few of his drawings of people, animals and landscapes. She looked at them all with an appreciative gaze that had him inwardly preening.

“In that case, may I have your measurements in turn, as well as some quick poses?” Damian’s face went carefully blank and he stood up to make a quick escape. She jumped a bit at his sudden movement, and appeared confused before her eyes widened as she interpreted his reaction to her last sentence.

“Wait, wait, not in a gross way, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m so sorry!” She squawked as she flailed her arms in a panic, a blush overtaking her face. Idly, he wondered if she was trying to take flight with all the flapping she was doing.

Still, he could admit when he jumped to conclusions. Well, actually he made the rare exception now and again, but she didn’t have to know that.

He looked her in the face and after a tense silence, raised a single brow as though to say, “Well?”

“Designer! I’m a designer, I make clothes, graphic art, and accessories! I’m not trying to harass you I swear and I’m so sorry that I even made you think that way and I’m so sorry I made you get up to run as if you were in danger, but it’s not if, you really thought you were in danger of being with a weird sexual harasser and--” her face was starting to get to an alarming shade of red.

“Stop,” he snapped and her mouth clicked shut. He nearly sighed as out loud as he saw how she almost bit her tongue in her hurry. His frustration quickly faded as he saw her retreat into herself, quickly becoming distracted.

It’s truly artfully done, he thought, I would think she was posing on purpose if I didn’t know any better.

He would make a few changes to her posture and fix the lighting, but other than that he would take her as is in a heartbeat. Everything about her was urging him to commit her form to paper, an immortalized vision frozen in time.

“I, um,” she sighed, gaze averted. “That happens more than I like unfortunately. I, it’s, um,” she sighed again.

“I also would like to apologize for jumping to conclusions. Propositions tend to come my way, unwarranted, so I was quick to assume,” he said stiffly.

“Can we move on, please. I don’t, uh, know the specifics of your proposal anyway.”

“Of course,” he said curtly. “I only use my drawings as a personal form of enjoyment, and rarely show it to others beyond close personal friends and family. As well as ensuring that your image is safe and protected, I would also like to pay you to be my model, even if it’s only for a few hours at most.”

Marinette nodded slowly and he committed the change of shading to her features as she moved to memory along with her thoughtful expression.

“I don’t have a problem with that, but would you mind if I do your measurements after, sitting still for a long time makes me feel sluggish and I don’t like to walk around trying to wake myself up in public spaces.”

“Not at all,” he assured. “If that’s the case, I wouldn’t mind you taking your sketches first, switching out would be more beneficial to you at the end.”

“Why, that does sound nice, but it might just make me feel bad,” she said teasingly. Seeing his confused frown, she giggled.

“I can tell just by looking at you that you’re practically dying to get me posing for you,” she grinned at him, eyes sparkling.

“Tch, since you insist,” he said without trying to fight her on it because she was right. During their entire exchange he’d been drinking in her every detail like depraved loon.

“If you would gather your things, in that case? I don’t know how much longer I can wait until I get my hands on you.” Hearing this, she blushed and began to stutter.

“Oh, uh, yeah, gazebo by lake, middle park of, um,” she quickly looked down as she grabbed her jacket and backpack.

Without any lingering qualms, he leaned over her to look at her face more closely.

“Yes, that’s exactly the face I want to see,” he rasped with dark eyes.

“Ok, I’m ready! Let me lead the way, native and what not!” She laughed nervously as she hurried to the center of the park.

Damian grunted and slung his satchel over his shoulder and easily matched her stride.

He became preoccupied thinking of ways to shift and coordinate her body to the scenery, which is why it felt like no time at all when they reached the gazebo.

It was a brown, humbly crafted structure that matched the atmosphere of the park, with its rose hedges wrapping around the fencing and lacquered benches and railings. He and Marinette walked up the steps together and soon he was pulling out his sketchbook and turning toward his model in a hurry.

“If I may?” He held out his hands and waited for her approval. Marinette set her things down next to his and took a deep breath before whispering a soft okay.

He slowly approached her lightly grasped her shoulders, gently pressing down and her body folded to sit on the bench behind her. He let go, trailing his hand to her wrist and bending her down, down, down, until she was leaning over an empty space bracketed by her forearm. He backed away slightly, turning her head to gaze at the invisible person beneath her. Finally, he lightly pulled her lower lip into a subtle opening as if she were helpless to give in and close the final distance for a kiss. He traced her cheek and that blush from before rose, a new sight in the different lighting and he memorized it.

Done with her head and torso, he told her that he was going to touch her legs, and she gave the ok again. Carefully, he curled both legs in the same direction, spreading them somewhat and planting one foot down as though it was going to push her up and let the other loosely rest at a comfortable angle.

Stepping back he saw the image he desired, but somehow better. The sky had turned a pale bluish gray that gave Marinette, posed as she was, a fragile halo.

He grasped his sketchbook and began.

An hour later, on his fourth sketch and her third and final pose, it started to rain.

Marinette, leaning against the bench with her head tilted a bit over its edge, gasped as the cold water pelted her face out of nowhere.

Damian cursed, rushing to grab their things and move them to the center of the floor and the rain began in earnest.

He’s kneeling as he puts them down, so when his new model leans over him to grab at her backpack, he looks up on instinct and gets a face full of a wet jamila.

Marinette is only somewhat wet from the pouring rain, but the sky is still bright with that bluish gray from earlier and provides a backdrop of faint light to reflect off the few raindrops that are trailing from her bangs, dripping off her dark, fluttering eyelashes to roll down freckled cheeks in a mimicry of tears that leaves him ensorcelled.

“I have a towel in my bag, could you…?” She makes a vague gesture for him to move and Damian is distantly aware that his expression is akin to that of a slack jawed moron. He rose up to his full height, and he feels that he can’t help his next words.

“Sincerely, you become lovelier and lovelier the more I look at you,” he reverently intoned as he stared into her eyes, watching with rapt attention as her own stare focused on him.

“It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one feeling this way,” she said. “From the moment I saw you I couldn’t help but memorize the way you looked then, underneath a circle of dappled sunlight.” She licked her lips, blue eyes darkening to a silvery hue.

“I really,” her eyes begin to run a trail from shoulder to shoulder, down his chest and stopping at his waist.

“I really liked your posture when you bowed earlier,” she said in a breathless whisper.

“Is that so?” He matched her tone, watching her appraise him.

“With the proper shirt, I could really emphasize that, give you a mandarin collar and make the cuffs round themselves out, three holes, one for the cufflinks and the other two to anchor the embroidery. A pale grey with geometric patterns to call attention to the rigidity of your stance and will allow for others to make note of your impeccable discipline.”

“Thank you,” he said and found that he meant it. “For agreeing to this, I mean. Today has been so…”

“Magical?” She guessed.

“Fulfilling.” He watched as a small rain droplet trickled down her cheek and brought his hand up to wipe it away.

“I never thought a day like this would happen,” he continued. “To think I met my muse an ocean away from home.”

“Muse? Me?” Marinette said in wonder. There was that blush again, delicately framing her freckles in a pink hue that spread all the way up to her ears.

“Indeed,” he said. “ After all, no other person has inspired me as swiftly as you did.”

“Likewise, Damian.”

They stood there together under the gazebo until the rain settled completely. They parted in opposite directions, longing but reassured with the knowledge that they wouldn’t be separated for long.

In the space between them, lightning flashed above and thunder rolled quietly in the distance.

#daminette #daminette december 2020 #maribat

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riverleyk · 3 years

Text

RECOVERED: Lost Mafia Kids files.

Mafia kids: 12 signatures as been my passion project all the way back since high school... like... 6 or 5 years ago? Oh my god... I'm getting old. This dates back to 2018.

CHAPTER 1

My high school years will be memories that I look over with more and more horror as I get older. At the time, I wasn’t afraid and I was too naive to realize the real danger I was in. However, I will never regret what I did. I was only trying to help.

It started with my dad losing his job. My family depended on him financially, my mom never worked too much, my brother, Kevin, was too young to even work, and even if I was old enough to work at the time, I didn’t want to and I felt as though I was allowed not to. Pretty selfish, right? But the minimum wage I could have gotten wouldn’t have helped in this situation; my family used to be rich, but once my dad was fired, we lost all the money and the benefits that came along with it. I assume it’s because my father liked to show off and so we were living above our means.

We moved to the slums of the big city, it was the most dangerous place in the area, but the cheapest. We stopped buying nice things like we used to, now we lived on bare essentials. Kevin took this hard, but I tried to adapt. I went to a new school too. It was the only school in the ghetto closest to our house, but it was infamous for being filled with child delinquents. Not only that, but it was infamously known as the worst school out there, in the poorest neighborhood.

I was so foolish… I really expected to be accepted there. In my old school, I was a bit bullied but I had a large group of friends, and we all got a long great! I was a really social and friendly person, so I wasn’t worried about going and making new friends in this hostile environment, but I was so, so, SO stupid!

From the second I walked in, I was stunned by how diverse it was there, there were few white people, and most of the kids there were racial minorities. I stuck out like a sore thumb… I went to school wearing my favorite rainbow pastel dress, I had even curled my hair and showered before my first day of school! I smelled of flowers and I was so cute looking. That however… That was my first mistake!

The others kids looked dirty… I don’t want to sound mean but they did! Their shirts were covered with stains. They seemed tired and unkempt. It was really a shocking contrast to the private school I went to before, but I tried not to judge. I acted super friendly and nice to everybody I saw. I introduced myself and I did a curtsy, I was so prim and proper!

“Hello there! My name’s Safara Grace, I’m new to this school. How are you?” Is what I’d say, but people seemed to hate me even more.

But not only that… I was white… Pure white. No, I don’t think you understand just how pale my skin is, it looks like I’ve never been outside before. Why? Because I’m an albino! Yes, my skin is pale, my eyes are purple and my hair is bleach white. Every time people see me, they look stunned and ask if I’m faking it. I’ve been dealing with this my whole life. I was born this way. Albinos are so rare, so the best way I can make you understand what my life is like on a daily basis is to make you imagine something…

So imagine you’re a kid… A black kid...going to school, but everybody there is white. They've never seen a black kid before and you are the only black kid around.

Imagine the bullying or the weird stares… Yeah! That’s my life all the time! Except I have no refuge with other albino people like the black kid does, I just have me! Being such a rare trait, I don’t even know another who looks like me… Oh and also, my skin is very irritable to sun light, so I walk around with a parasol all the time.

But anyways, I made no friends. For the first time ever, I was unable to make friends! I was heart broken and confused. I became very lonely. I hated this school so much… Everybody was so different… They hated me because I looked rich and I was so freakishly white. I told myself that the racism against me for being white was justified. I mean, white people were very racist in the past… But I soon stopped when I realized the few other white kids in the school weren’t getting bullied at all! Well… Except for one… I noticed this boy who always did group projects and sat alone at lunch like I did... He never spoke and nobody ever dared talk about him. I started hanging out with him, and I soon learned why…

CHAPTER 2

Yeah, that boy was creepy. He was tall, bone thin skinny, and he had extremely messy dark brown hair, tipped with gold. He was sort of attractive in the “I look almost dead inside but I’m super hot” kind of way. He wore a blue dress shirt with a grey hoodie on top. He was…strange.

He looked so tired with black bags hung under his eyes. His skin was gray and bruised all over. He had this depressing aura that lingered around him. To any normal person, just staring at him would send off red flags and make you stay away. To me though, a desperate and lonely teenage girl, he was perfect.

I quickly understood why everybody stopped bullying me when I started hanging out with him; they pitied me! They used to call me names and shove me into walls, but they stopped when I met him.

One day, a popular girl told me she would be my friend if I stopped hanging out with him. “Uh… why? I’m sorry but this sounds like a trap.” I replied to her, rolling my eyes.

“I know this looks cheap but I’m not kidding…”, she paused, “that guy is NUTS. He’s too weird for such an innocent li'l girl like you. Look, I promise to be nicer and I’ll tell everybody in school that you’re cool, but seriously…not him…hang out with anybody except him…”

“Why? Why is he so crazy to you?” I was so insulted by her pleas.

“Because he’s…he’s… I don’t know what’s wrong with him!”, she yelled at me. “The guy’s a fucking creeper and he’s unstable! Not only that, but rumors around school say that he’s addicted to the worst kinds of drugs, but nobody is even sure of that. Others say he’s mental, but it doesn’t matter what his problem is, he’s gonna rip you apart, Safari!”

“My name is Safara…”, I said in a dead pan tone. All I could do was walk away.

I think I did the right thing in that moment… That girl was a bitch to me. She spread lies around the school about my father and how he lost his job for cheating on my mom. Everybody believed it only because she was popular. I hated her and I wasn’t going to take her advice.

But, no matter how I spin it… She was absolutely right. Bonding with that guy was harder than I thought… More often than not, I felt uncomfortable around him. Getting him to speak was hard enough, he would ignore me and stay silent but when he did talk, it was…

IT WAS SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND HIM! He spoke like an emotionless robot! His tone of voice was this constant bored and tired tone, yet sometimes he’d say a joke or act sarcastic, but it wouldn’t make any sense because he sounded exactly the same as his normal tone!

It took me a whole month to get him to talk to me. I felt bad for pestering him around… I’d force my way into working with him during group projects in class, I’d eat with him at lunch, and I'd hang out with him in the library.

I remember the first time I got him to talk to me. I had opened up my sketch book and tried showing him my clothing designs. He looked at them blankly. He seemed uninterested at most of the drawings.

"They're pretty good.", he said in an uncaring tone.

"Oh...you...like them? For real?" I couldn't help but smile anyway.

“Yeah.” He replied simply. “You’re good.”

"Oh, thank you..." I pointed to my favorite ones. "You see how my dresses are colorful? Well, I do that just cause these days all the clothes are boring and black. I like making my stuff stand out, but I also like pastel colors too."

I assumed he didn't care because he sounded bored. Also he's was a boy. Boys don't like fashion like girls do.

He tilted his head slightly, "Yeah..I can see that.”. He sounded just as lifeless as ever.

I was surprised by this interaction, but after this he seemed to open up to me. He spoke to me about the things his liked; those being science and history, but he still didn’t talk much.

It was funny, because after a while I got used to him. I was able to read his sarcasm from his honesty even if the tone of his voice didn’t give any clues… I was so used to his weirdness that I stopped questioning him about all the bruises he had on his body. Heck, I even forgot that I didn’t know his name!

But luckily, one day he told me it out of the blue. We were in class working on a english oral presentation and we were both writing our parts and then he suddenly looked at me, straight in the eyes and said:

“Dimitrius Atkins.”

“What?”, I replied, not even bothering to look back at him.

“That’s my name. I know your name.” He replied. “But you don’t know mine… a-and that’s not fair.”

“Oh… You’re right! I sort of forgot about asking you after a while.”, I said, surprised. “Dimitrius… That’s an uncommon name..” “Please call me Dimitri though.” He corrected me with a monotone expression. “I don’t like Dimitrius.”

“Oh… why don’t you?”

“It sounds too serious. I’m a goofy guy. It’s not very fitting.”, he said seriously. How ironic.

I just giggled and went back to work.

From then on, we sort of became friends. The more he spoke, the more concern grew in me. He wasn’t crazy like everybody said he was, but there was something wrong with him.

He showed up to school with blood stains on his sleeves and scars all over him sometimes. I can’t forget the time he showed up to class late… He limped over to his desk, bruises all over his hands and he had a black eye. That was my wake up call. After that, I started noticing more.

I guess the first thing was his sarcasm. I assumed it was sarcasm.

“Hey Dimitri, what’s up!?”, I’d say excitedly.

“No… He’s not here right now.”, he’d reply.

Or other nonsensical replies.

“Hey Dimitri, for the project, do you want me to write the introduction or should I do the conclusion?”

“No, Safara, the world won’t have a conclusion.”, he said blankly.

“Dimitri, I mean the project!”, I exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” He said looking away from me.

These sort of situations would come out of nowhere. Like I said, I thought it was him being sarcastic or making jokes, but the more we talked, the more I realized: he wasn’t joking. He was giving me these nonsense answers because he thought they were appropriate but it just made no sense…

I asked my mother, a psychologist, about it. I told her everything about him.

“Oh Safara… Your friend sounds like he’s mentally ill.”, she answered with concern in her eyes.

“You sure? I know he’s weird but…”

“Safara, this sounds serious. Maybe you should invite him over someday… I would love to talk to him.”

“Ok mom, I will.” I told her.

CHAPTER 3

The day after, I went to school with a mission. I was going to invite Dimitri to my house! I was so anxious about it that my legs were fidgeting all day.

I saw him sitting at his usual spot, alone in the library, reading a book about robotics like he always did. His hair was combed that day, he looked good for once! Well, looking good for him is pretty easy. He just has to look like he wasn't beat up 10 minutes ago and had washed his hair in the past 20 years.

I walked over to him, and Dimitri greeted me!

“Hey there, angel girl.”, he quietly said. He sounded tired.

I was caught off guard. Was he complimenting me? I sat down next to him.

“Hey there. So…do you want to go out?”, I said jokingly. I wanted to see him get flustered. I was pretty disappointed when he just nodded and continued reading. I think I may have spotted his cheeks get a little flushed, however.

“No, I mean, do you want to eat dinner with my family this weekend?”

“No.” He said dryly.

“Oh… Do you want to hang out this weekend?” I tried again.

“Sure.”

“At my house?”

“No.”

“Then where do you want to hang out?”, I snapped at him impatiently. I was shushed by the librarian.

“At the park.”, he whispered back.

“Oh. Cool.” I was a bit surprised. I didn’t know there was a park near by. “See ya there then.”

“Bye.” He waved at me and very obviously forced a smile. “Dimitri... I’m not leaving.” I laughed quietly but the librarian heard it. He promptly kicked me out of the library.

I got up and walked out.

“Bye again.”, he said while waving at me. This time his smile seemed more genuine, which hurt me a lot.

I muttered curse words under my breath and walked out embarrassed. My mission was a failure, but I was going to meet him at the park that Friday after school, so I felt proud either way.

Friday night finally came. The wait was unbearable. We met outside of the school. He gave a look, but it was more like a blank stare. He gave me a signal to walk over to him. Once I was close to him, he said carefully,

“Watch out for people who follow us. The park is safe but the path there is dangerous.”

I was unsure of how to reply so I just nodded. He put up his hood and lead the way. I followed him, walking by his side, trying not to get my parasol in the way. I tried to make small talk, but he stayed mostly quiet.

He asked me about my family, so I told him why I moved here.

“That’s too bad.”. He sounded careless, like he didn’t mean it. “This place is a bad place to live in.”

“I… Yeah…”. I agreed with him but I felt bad doing so, knowing that he lived here.

Looking around me, I saw trash all over the streets. People weren’t dressed as well as they used to be back in my previous neighborhood. People looked tired or overworked. There were hobos all over the place. Not to mention the buildings looked old and worn down.

“This place is so different from where I used to live.”, I told him.

“This is what poverty looks like.”, he said bluntly, “everybody here is suffering.”

“I know…”. I was hurt just seeing it all. I felt so sad for these people. “I want to help them.”

“Don’t.”

“W-why not?”. I stammered over my words, shocked by his apathy.

“They just take and take. They will never get out of this.”. He looked at me blankly. “Nobody gets out of poverty once they fall into it.”

“But… what about me?!”, I said, insulted.

“Start getting a job. Save up.”. He looked around behind his shoulder. “You can dream too.”

I stopped talking to him until we reached the park. I didn’t like him being so mean but what he said had truth to it.

The park was surprisingly isolated. It was full of trees and trash littered the ground. It was peaceful and it looked like a forest with hiking trails.

“You like to walk?”, he asked emotionlessly.

“Yes, and I love nature too.”, I said smiling, pleasantly surprised by the beauty of the park. “There’s a lot of trash here but it’s still nice to have a forest in the middle of the city.”

“That’s good.”, he replied, “nobody likes to come here…”

“Oh? Why not? It’s so pretty!”

“Um… well.”, he started, “there was once a big mafia that was running this part of the city. They committed many crimes. This park used to be popular for kids in the summer, but then they realized that the mafia was burying their victims here…. A police investigation was launched and they dug up over 22 bodies…”

“Oh my god…”, I whispered.

“Exactly.” He nodded. “People weren’t allowed in during the investigation…but once it was over, people didn’t want to come back in here. I’ve only ever seen one other guy here.” “They are afraid… and for good reason.”

“And nobody wants to buy this land cause it’s “haunted” apparently.” He forces a small laugh like it’s funny. “I’ve been here a lot and I haven’t seen anything here.”

“Well… heh… I can’t say I’m exactly too thrilled to take a stroll in here now.” I joked even though it was half true.

He didn’t reply. He just started walking. We walked in silence for a bit. It was making me feel really uncomfortable. I started looking around the forest. We could still hear the cars whooshing past us, as the streets were just behind the tree line, but as we walked further and further away, the sound faded.

I felt at peace, listening to the rustle of the wind in the leaves and the birds in the trees.

As a city girl, I don’t go to forest that often. My closest experience to animals are the bird feeders in my back yard and the squirrels. This walk was giving me nostalgic memories of the times I went camping.

I turns to look at what was to my left and I jumped a bit, seeing Dimitri besides me was startling as he was so quiet I forgot he was there. Though now, I was staring at him…. subtly! So he wouldn’t notice… I spotted a couple of bruises on his hands, neck and a faded scar on his cheek. Now that I was up close to him, I could see there was a lot more signs of injuries on him then I had previously thought.

“Hey Dimitri…”, I mumbled to him timidly.

He almost robotically turned to look at me. “Yeah?”

“Sorry for asking this… It might be personal. Why do you have a lot of bruises on your skin?”, I asked him. Instantly regretting the invasive question, I stammered out another sentence. “It’s nosey of me, I know, but it’s a hard detail to miss. It’s concerning…”

He went back to looking in front of him. He didn’t reply for a solid minute. The silence and wait was unbearable.

“I just get into a lot of fights.” He answered simply.

“But how?” My interest was peaked.

“Well you know… it’s a bad neighborhood. Gangs are everywhere.” He turned to look at me. “You better be careful.”

The words lingered in my head, sending a chill down my spine. The way he said it, cold and uncaringly, sent implications that were not spoken. Was he…threatening to attack me? Or was he warning me of other people doing so? He creeped me out.

“T-thanks… I will.”

Finally we reached a small river that ran along through the city and this park. We stopped and Dimitri told me a story about how a kid drowned in it. He’s not a very cheerful guy but I tried to ignore it…

We sat along the edge of the river. There were ducks passing by. Dimitri pulled a whole loaf of bread out of his back pack and handed me a few slices.

“Do you always carry around bread in your bag?” I laughed.

“Yep.” He said throwing a piece of bread into the water.

I laughed even harder. “So you do this often?”

“Yep.”

A pack of ducks were gathered around us now, fighting over the pieces of bread we were tossing into the water. We fed the ducks together while chatting. Eventually the topic of family came up.

“Well… I have a little brother. He’s a little brat. What about you?”, I asked.

“I’m a single child.”, he said, concentrated on the ducks.

“Aw, that must be lonely, isn’t it?”

“It is… But not because of my lack of siblings.”, he answered robotically.

“Oh how so?” I was probing for more information.

“Well I don’t have a father… Um… no. I do have a dad, he’s just not around much at all. And my mom? I avoid her.” He said hesitantly.

“Why is your dad gone? Why do you avoid your mom?”, I asked, concerned for him.

He forced a smile and looked at me. “No. Everything is fine.”

“Dimitri…” I gave him my “I know you’re lying to me” face and his smile faded away back to his neutral expression.

“My mom isn’t a nice woman… And my dad is in prison.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” I felt bad for pushing him to say it.

But a thought clicked in my head. He came to school everyday with bruises and cuts and he admitted that his mother wasn’t “nice”. Was this abuse?

“D-Dimitri… does your mom hurt?” I questioned.

“No.” He said simply.

“But you-”

“No.” he said a bit louder. “She doesn’t like me. But she doesn’t not like me either.” He said calmly. “Now stop asking me crappy questions.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s ok. I forgive you.”

We finished the bread and the ducks looked satisfied. They swam off and we walked off. He chatted a little back to the streets. I offered Dimitri the dinner invitation again and he accepted. We scheduled it, and I went home.

CHAPTER 4

It was the big day! Dimitri was gonna come over, we were going to hang out, eat dinner and somehow I’d persuade him to talk to my mom so she could figure out what was wrong with him.

I know I sound weird, trying to stalk him and get him diagnosed by my mom, but I obsessively want to help people and sometimes I take it too far. This is one of those times.

Dimitri showed up at our door. He was wearing a blue dress shirt and his hair was combed but still messy. He had a black eye and a bloody nose. He didn’t seemed fazed by it at all.

My brother heared the knocking first, unknowing of what our guest would look like. To his surprise, he was met by a disheveled young man at our door, standing like nothing was the matter. All he could do was stare.

Dimitri was so shy he didn’t say anything, just bleeding out of his nose. The blood was dripping down his face and leaking down his neck. He had just been seriously punched in the face, but my brother was too choked up and confused to know what to do.

“What the fuck happened to you!?”, Kevin yelled in disgust.

“I um..” He stammered. “I was mugged before coming here…”

Kevin just gave him a look of astonishment and ran into the kitchen to call for our mother.

Dimitri just let himself in. At that point I had heard the commotion and promptly came down the stairs. I froze up, seeing Dimitri bleeding like that.

“Hi Safara!” He waved cheerfully to me.

My mother came rushing in and bombarded the boy with questions, giving him a towel for his nose and a wet rag for his eye.

Dimitri seemed oddly perky. Usually, he was emotionless, making him come across as bored or slightly annoyed with everything. However, now he seemed to have a hint of happiness in his demeanor. I won’t ever complain about Dimitri being actually happy for once, but it was so different from his normal self that it weirded me out.

My mother, brother and I gave him a lot of attention while trying to help his wounds heal. He just sat there and gave us a small smile. He was giggling randomly from time to time. He seemed to be really enjoying himself even thought nothing much was happening.

“So what happened to you, eh?” Kevin asked.

“Oh... I was walking over here from my house. I was taking the back roads to avoid the traffic.” He started to explain.

“Back roads? Traffic? You were walking! How could there be traffic?” Kevin interrupted.

“I don’t like the big streets with too many cars…” He snarled. “Anyways… I passed by an alley way when a sketchy little girl jumped in front of me. She said something about me needing to go somewhere with her to meet somebody and to learn “about the past.” But I didn’t want to be late so I “kindly explained” to her that I needed to be somewhere and she got “upset” with me. Then, she punched me in the face and walked off.”

“That’s… odd.” I interjected. “Are you ok though?”

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” He smiles brightly.

I was just more unnerved. This was too out of character for him… But I tried to ignore it.

Dimitri was popular with my family. My dad and him made jokes together. My brother and him ran off to play video games. (By the way, he sucks at gaming. I would haven’t guessed he’d be terrible…)

My mother approached me.

“Safara, you said he was off, but he doesn’t seem like it now.”

“I know but he’s never acted like this before. He’s usually cold and apathetic to everything.” I turned to face her. “He’s like emotionless all the time and the other kids at school say he’s crazy and talks to himself. I don’t get it! He’s the complete opposite to how he asks at school.”

My mother just stared at me for a moment. “Have you noticed that he was giggling at nothing earlier?”

“Yes?”

“He’s high.” She said with a really serious tone.

“WHAT?” I gasped.

“QUIET! It’s only a guess… But I’ve seen this behavior before. He doesn’t have any redness in the eyes, though… So I don’t know what it is that he’s on. Oh, but there's also other factors. Maybe at school, he’s just really depressed and outside of school he feels more free to open up?” She hypothesized.

“That can’t be it. When we went to the park, he was acting the same.” I argued.

“Well then.” She rolled her eyes. “We should let him get comfortable and then we can get our improv therapy session, but only if he cooperates.”

The night went on. Dimitri's enthusiasm diminished so much so during the night that he was back to his emotionless self when dinner came around. He was so quiet that my family ignored him for the whole supper. He was extremely shy. I tried to talk to him but he would only nod his head in response to anything.

After dinner, he and I went up to my room. I gave him a “grand tour” which mainly consisted of me showing him my stuff and him just listening. He was barely talking. I felt bad.

“Dimitri… are you ok?”

He just nodded meekly.

“It’s ok if you aren’t. Do you want to go home?” I asked him, sitting down on my bed.

Dimitri sat down next to me. I started getting nervous and my heart was beating fast. He was so close to me I could feel his body heat radiating.

“No… I like it here a lot. Your new house is very lovely, Safara.” He answered quietly.

My heart started pumping faster. I was my shot to convince him to talk to my mother. I had to ask him!

“So Dimitri…”

“Yes!?” He interrupted me suddenly.

“My mom is a psychologist and I know you have some problems… I was wondering if maybe you could talk to her and she could help you, like a therapy session. You wanna try it?”

He just blankly stared at me. His face was draining of blood and he was losing color.

“Yeah… but she won’t talk to you about it, right?”

“Oh no! That would be breaking the confidentiality rules! She won’t tell me anything. Even if I asked her, she’s very serious about her job.”

“Uh… ok. But not now…” He hesitated.

“Oh that's alright.” I leaned over to put my head on his shoulder.

I felt him shutter from the touch but he didn’t move away from it. He posed his head on mine and we sat like this for a while. It was peaceful and warm. I closed my eyes and held his hand. His palms were sweaty and he was trembling a bit.

“Do you mind?” I asked.

“No.” He answered.

“Good.” I held his hand tightly.

“I d-didn’t think this was a date.” He stammered.

“It’s not…”

“Then why are you doi- holdi- uh… UMM-”

“Sorry.” I back away and let go. “I’m just a huggy person. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I’m just…” he shivers a bit. “Not used to getting touched affectionately.”

“Oh Dimitri.” I giggled. “I don’t really consider this affection, I just think of hugs as casual things friends do.”

“Oh ok.” He replied.

We watched a little bit of TV, not saying much. After the episode ended, He got up and walked out. I thought he was going to the bathroom and he’d come back quickly but he never did.

After 20 minutes, I left the room and looked around.

Kevin was in the kitchen, sneaking cookies out of my parents’ secret spot for them.

“Hey bro, where’s Dimi?” I asked him, taking a cookie for myself.

“He’shh- wiff mom.” He said, mouth utterly stuffed with cookies.

“Thanks.” I put the cookies away and I went back to my room to wait for him.

I think Dimitri stayed there for 2 hours. I was watching the TV for a ridiculously long time. When he did come back, he looked drained.

“Sorry about that. I was expecting a little chat but I couldn’t shut myself up so I started ranting for a while.” He explained.

“Oh it’s ok. It is therapy.” I excused him.

He smiled and hugged me. I was taken aback but I held him tightly. I could feel his body. He was so frail and skinny under those clothes. It was calming for that half a second we that were close.

Then he left.

I felt so lonely with him gone.

But then I realized…

“SHIT! WE SHOULD HAVE GIVEN HIM A RIDE HOME!”

CHAPTER 5

Nothing changed much at school. Dimitri was his typical robot self. There is one thing that was very welcomed though… Dimitri seemed to be forcing himself to act more. He would talk with more hand gestures and smiles (but his smiles were very awkward looking because he was forcing them).

Dimitri also became really friendly with my family. He would come over once a week after his first session with my mother. She really liked talking to him.

Neither Dimitri or my mother told me what they would talk about, but I knew it was serious. She would walk around with her note book after the sessions and often times, she’d be the one to invite him over.

One day, I knew something was up. She sat me down to talk about him.

“Safara, what has he told you about his life?” She asked me with a sternness in her voice.

“Not much…” Then I repeated all that he told me.

“I see. He is trying to hide it…” She flipped through her notes. “I can’t tell you much, with out his consent, but Dimitri allowed me to tell you this yesterday.”

“Oh…” I could feel that what she was about to say really important.

She looked me dead in the eyes and straightened her glasses. “He’s been diagnosed with schizophrenia when he was 15 years old.”

A wave of shock zipped through my body. I was speechless.

“He has vivid hallucinations. Safara, that’s why he acts emotionless.” She told me.

“But what about when he comes here and acts all… alive?” I asked, completely baffled.

“That I don’t know.” She sighed. “But Safara, I want you to be extremely careful with him.”

“I am!”

“No… just…” She smiles at me. “Please keep being nice to him. You mean a lot to him.”

I blushed and nodded.

“That’s all I’m allowed to say. You should try to talk to him about his issues. He trusts you to keep these a secret, however. You got that, right?”

“Yes mother, I understand.” I got up to leave.

“Wait! I forgot to mention something.”

I sat back down.

“Would you mind if Dimitri lived with us?” She asked me.

My eyes widened. “You aren’t serious, are you?”

“I am. He has a bad home life, and I know that one of the only ways he can get better is by having a better family, so I asked him if could move in with us. It will be temporary, like maybe a few months or so.” She explained, justifying her decision. “I’ve already spoken to your father about this and he agrees. Dimitri wouldn’t be that huge of an addition to the family, we’d just need more food and that’s it.”

“Oh I don’t mind but don’t adopt him, ok? It would be weird to have a brother that looks so different from us.” I joked.

“Oh but that's what adoption is all about, sweetie! And he isn’t that different from us. I mean you are the most different of us all.” She touched my hair and poked my cheek, giggling the whole time.

This gesture really annoyed me. “...Thanks mom. But also, I just don’t want another brother. Kevin is enough of a brat as it is.”

“Dimitri’s a sweet young man” She said as she was getting up. “Anyways, I’m going to tell Kevin the news.”

I went back up to my room and I could hear my li'l bro wailing down stairs. He cried, “BUT THAT’S TOO MANY PEEEEOPLE!”. I snickered to myself.

CHAPTER 6

Dimitri came up to me at school the next day. He asked me if my mom told me the stuff and about the “news”.

“Oh. I’m so happy to be moving in with you.” He forced a smile but still sounded monotone.

“Me too! We’d get to hang out all the time!” I hugged him from excitement.

Dimitri grabbed me and spun around with me in his arms. He gently put me down. I looked up at him, confused but I saw a genuine smile on his face and my heart melted.

Dimitri being HAPPY is the cutest thing ever.

“Sorry. I’m just so excited.” He shook my hand for some reason. “I’ve just always wanted to leave home.”

“Oh… why?” I asked with concern.

“Well uh… Never mind!” He suddenly laughed awkwardly. “But yeah I’ll tell you in private. By the way, I’m sleeping in your basement.

“I’m really happy for you though.” I held his hand as we walked off to class. I didn’t care if the other students were watching. Dimitri seemingly lost his enthusiasm and got really quiet after that.

CHAPTER 7

Moving Dimitri into our basement wasn’t that hard and it didn’t take long. All he had was trash bags full of his clothes, a box that was full to the brim, labelled “parts”, and a mattress he used as a bed. All we did was put his stuff down and he organized it by himself.

Two hours later, he went up to my room. “Want a room tour, Saf?”

“Sure!” I went down the stairs alongside him.

His bed was just a mattress on the floor with a pillow and blanket. There was a desk that was particularly lacking the normal desk-clutter, and a simple wooden chair. My parents emptied out a shelf and he put his clothes there. There were no doors on the shelf so I could see his shirts, pants, and (Oh my gosh!) boxers! (Is it pervert to stare at a guy’s underpants??? It made me super uncomfortable to see those!)

Dimitri’s box of parts was untouched in the corner. All in all, the room was pretty small but it still had looked like he barely filled it. I walked over to his box and pointed at it.

“Need help unpacking this?” I asked.

“Oh!” He stared. “No. Don’t touch that, it’s fragile.”

“Ok, sorry.” I said. “So how do you like your new crib?”

“Super cool. I never really cared for the decorations, as long as it’s warm and I can eat and sleep, I’ll be fine.”

“Neat. So what now?” I asked.

He scratched his chin and looked up. “I don’t know. Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure! I just got a new horror movie from the store. I think it’s a slasher flick of something. I got it for my brother but he was too scared to watch it. I’m not a fan of those movies but I liked to get scared every once in a while. What do ya' say?”

He just went flush red and became really quiet. “Oh uh…” He scratched the back of his head. “Um… Ok.”

“What? You don’t like horror?” I asked, seeing how uncomfortable he was.

“N- I do like that. Let’s watch it.” His smile was meant to reassure me but it was so obvious it was forced.

So we went to my room to watch the movie. I really embarrassed with how much I yelped at each jump scare. Oh, and how I needed to cover my eyes during the violent scenes! Though, Dimitri barely had reaction. He was blushing from ear to ear and biting his lower lip. He would flinch during the fight scenes but, yeah. That was it. I thought he would be judging me for being a wimp! But half way through he got up and left, so I finished without him.

A hour later, I went downstairs to his room. I knocked on the door and he yelled. “It’s unlocked.” I walked in to see him fiddling around with metallic parts and tools. I approached cautiously.

“What are you doing?” I questioned, tilting my head to the side.

“Tinkering.” He replied expressionlessly.

I watched him open up the box to pull a toy robot he was going to disassemble. He leaned over to take a screw driver and started to remove pieces from the toy.

I leaned over to get a closer look. “Why are you breaking it?”

“I’m not breaking it.” He replied calmly. “I’m taking it apart… and rebuilding it.”

“Oh, why?”

“Well, it helps me understand how it’s made and the techniques they used.”

“Oh that sounds neat. You like making robots?” I asked him, overly interested in what he was doing.

I sat down next to him. He just looked at me and said nothing. I think he was confused but yet again, he had no emotion. Just his regular expressionless glare. His eyes felt like they were piercing deep into my soul… those glass-like, grayish-blue eyes. They creeped me out.

“Tell me about your robots, Dimitrius.” I muttered. “I’m curious…”

He raised an eye brow for a second but then went back to tinkering.

“So I like making stuff with my hands… Though, I have a whole system for it.” he paused and looked at me again. “You don’t mind me rambling?”

“Oh, Dimitri...you barely talk. I like your voice! Go ahead.” I encouraged him to go on.

“So uh…” he forced a smile. It was so cute. “I like making my own custom robots for tournaments and stuff, but I’m not that good at making my own parts, so I take them from other bots that I buy.”

I listened, completely fascinated in it. His voice was monotone and boring but he sounded calm. As he went on, there was a hint of happiness with him being able to talk about his passion.

“I take them apart then I rebuild them.” He continued. “...W-with out instruction manuals. The point is to know the purpose of all the parts, where they go, and how they work. I repeat breaking them down and building them back up again until I know the bots perfectly.”

“Is it time consuming?” I tilted my head and picked up one of his tools.

“It is but it depends on how complex the model is. Though, once I understand the bot perfectly, I can take its pieces and use them to make my own bot… or if I like the robot, I mod them to make them more efficient or stronger. Whatever I feel like doing to it, basically.” He took the piece from my hand. “This is a screw driver….”

“Oh my god! You think I didn’t know what a screw driver was!” I laughed at him but I stopped when I saw that he looked nervous.

“Sorry, Dimitri. I like what you do with the robots. It’s really cool.”

“Thank you…” He replied timidly.

Suddenly the door opened, and someone appeared from the newly escaping light. Dad. He sternly yelled, “SAFARA! IT’S BED TIME.”

I called back to him, "I'M COMING, ONE SECOND!". I gave Dimitri a hug.

“Good night, Dimi!”, I said as I was running up the stairs.

Dimitri just stares at dad, mouth agape. His cheeks were the reddest I've ever seen. “Y-you too, angel…” He stammered and muttered.

SIDE CHAPTER 1

-MONSTERS-

A woman paced around the room and stopped in front of a mirror hung up on the wall, putting on a pearl necklace. She grabbed a comb and brushed over the bangs of her long, silky, brown hair. She was very tall and slim. Like a stick, she adorned barely any curves. As she stared at herself in the mirror, she smiled. She was all dressed up in all of her best clothes.

A man walked into her room. He was smiling. Wearing a suit with a green tie, matching with the color of his eyes. He was giving a piggy back ride to his son, a cute little boy with short blond hair.

The woman walked up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Are you two ready to go to church?”, she asked with her sing song voice.

“Of course.”, the man replied with a wink and smile. “How’s his outfit?”

The lady examined her son’s clothing then she nodded.

“Yes, it’s good.” She walked out. “Come along now! We don’t want to be late for our lord.”

Behind her back, the man rolled his eyes and put his son down. Once on the ground, the toddler stumbled toward the front door.

The car ride over to the church was pretty uneventful. The little boy wasn’t listening to his parents bickering in the front, he was fascinated by the trees rolling by, yet the clouds being seemingly suspended and frozen in the sky. He held out his hands and tried to grab the birds, freely flying across the beautiful blue sky.

Once inside the church, the little boy held his mother’s hand and followed her. The outside of the church was colossal and grand. It towered over the little boy. A statue stood over the entrance. It was of winged humans saving Earth's people from certain doom while the rest had already met their demise. They all wore faces filled with utter terror, as they were burning and being eaten by horrifying monsters. Each time the boy saw this statue, he’d start to cry and his parents would scold him for it. This time would be different! He put on his brave face and stared down the statue as he walked in, but he held back the tears. His mother and father didn’t notice.

Once inside, he thought he was going to have an easier time, but he had forgotten that inside there were monsters here too. Big paintings of the monsters were hung on the walls. Luckily, they were much less scary than the statue.

They sat down and listened to a man in a robe speak. The boy was so bored that he fell asleep, lying his head down on his father’s lap. Each time they needed to stand or sing songs, his mother would elbow him really hard in the shoulder to wake him up. It always happened like this. He’s come home with bruise on his shoulder and it didn’t matter where he sat, his parents forced him to sit in the middle of them so that they could watch his behavior better. He was used to it by now, but sometimes he’d cry on the way back home. He wasn’t allowed to cry at church, people would stare.

He was ecstatic it when they sang the songs, though. He loved to sing. He'd yell out the lyrics of the hymns as loud as he could so he could drown out all the other voices. It was the point of the game for him.

Eventually, his mother took his hand and walked up to the display area. He was confused, they only let people walk up there to get the bread and wine. He wasn’t allowed to go up there because he didn’t have his First Holy Communion yet…

She picked up him in her arms. He was heavy since he wasn’t exactly her little baby anymore, but she could still manage. While in her arms, he stared back at the crowd. Everybody was staring at him and her. He felt a pressure build up in his chest and he wanted to run but he couldn’t. She was holding on too tightly.

He stared up at the wall that was behind the crowd, it had a massive painting of a winged human with a shiny circle around their head. They were impaling a red monster with big horns and a tail. It was like the statue but, much more scary and gruesome!

He felt tears welling up in his eyes and he squirmed to get away. Suddenly, his mom lowered him and submerged his head under water. The few seconds he spent under there felt like an hour, but he was soon pulled out.

He coughed violently for a while after. The pastor gave him a speech he could barely hear or focus on.

The car ride home was terrible. He was so scared of the monsters and confused by the water. He sobbed quietly, trying not to bother his parents who were still bickering to each other.

CHAPTER 8

Dimitri became accustomed to living with us after 3 weeks of residing here. However, he was really weird about being seen with me outside of the house. I took the bus to school but he’d still walk there. When he did take the bus, he would avoid me like the plague and get off at completely random stops.

It was obvious that he was paranoid. Constantly looking over his shoulder, keeping a distance from people when he could, and when he had to be around people, he had his hood up and ignored everyone. Being invisible was his goal. I hated it.

He was hiding something from me.

Thursday night, after school. Dimitri went to the basement and I went to my room. I was finishing up my homework when I got stumped by a math problem. I went down to see him, hoping he could help me out.

I slowly crept down the stairs to his room. I caught him at his desk working on robots and wearing glasses. I rarely ever see him wear them, but I really liked them. It made him look so sophisticated and intelligent. He was already really smart, but it made him look the part too.

He looked up at me as I got closer.

“What’s up, angel girl?” He asked.

I giggled. “Oh, why do you keep calling me that?”

“Because you are an angel.” He smiled.

My heart melted. Usually, he was so robotic in his actions and speech but it was so cute to see him smile with out forcing it.

I pulled up a chair and sat next to him. I asked him for help with the homework and he effortlessly solved it, and then taught me the process step-by-step. He was much more help than the teacher was. After we solved that one, we just kept going through all of the other questions I didn't get.

After that was done, I didn’t want to leave him just yet. I liked his company.

“Hey Dimitri… Thank you.” I hugged him.

He didn’t say anything, he just gave me a small smile and nodded. He put his arms around me and I felt his heart beating fast in his chest. I let go of him after a few seconds.

“I was wondering though…” I began to explain to him that I thought weird to be so paranoid out in public and I was wondering why he acted that way.

He was visibly nervous, he started tapping his fingers on the desk and darting his eyes around.

“I can’t tell you… It’s better if people don’t see us hanging out in public… I tried to get you to avoid me at school but you didn’t get the message so I gave up.”

“But why?” I asked, confused as ever.

“You’ll throw me out of the house if you knew- He paused. ...You’d hate me…Oh, Safara.. I’m so sorry.” He was expressionless but hints of remorse were seeping in.

“Dimitri… You can tell me anything. I won’t ever hate you.” I put my hand on his shoulder.

He sighed. “Safara. I’m targeted. I’m dangerous. Being around me might make you targeted too. I don’t want you to be hurt, so I try to avoid you and others in public.”

“I-I'm not following. Can you explain more?"

He bowed his head in shame. “I’m the son of Tony Drey. Remember the story I told you at the park? It was about him.”

I gasped. “You’re father was a mob boss?!”

He nodded. “Yeah… He did terrible things… He’s infamous throughout this entire city. His claim to fame was being elected to office as representative of this district of the city. He was passing laws that corrupt the governmental system. He was a well known anarchist and his plan was to dismantle all government. Though, he did much, much, more before that.

He did pretty much everything. Prostitution, drug dealing, robbery, scamming, and yes… he murdered people. He didn't do it himself, though… At least I don’t think he did.

It’s complicated. Basically, he was the leader of his own gang, but it was well organized, so calling it a gang would be an insult. It was a full blown mafia and criminal organization. Everything was run by him and he had loyal followers.

Then he was caught… Put on trial and sent to jail. That's when a woman came out saying that they were seduced by him and had his kids. My mother was devastated but whatever, fuck her.” He said the last part with hatred staining his words.

“Anyways, he was imprisoned and put on death row. He’s still there. He has to serve his 20 year term before he does.” He continued on. “And you’d think my troubles and there but they don’t. That fucker and I look the same!”

I pulled out my phone and quickly googled Tony Drey and I found his mug shot. What stunned me the most is that Dimitri was completely right. They were very similar, but there were some obvious differences too. Tony had green eyes, opposed to Dimitri’s blue, with dark black hair that was beginning to turn white, Dimitri’s was brown. Their haircuts were different, Dimitri’s was longer and a lot messier. Not to mention his dad had stubble and, well, Dimitri was lacking there.

“Yeah… He sure does look like you. Family resemblance…” ////*********************/////

“Exactly. But yeah my looks cause a lot of problems… You see, his followers want me to take his place because that his “official” son would be the heir to the throne and It pisses me off. I don’t want to be that. I want to be a police officer to put sickos like him

in prison where they belong. But not only do I have weirdos forcing me to give them orders, but I also have other people trying to kidnap me for ransom, and some who just want to kill me. So ya know the bruises and cuts on my body when you see me at school?”

I nodded weakly.

“That’s them starting fights with him and I need to protect myself. I fight back. That’s why I can’t have anybody hand out with me ever. But…” He avoided eye contact with me. “It’s so lonely isolating yourself from every one… I longed for somebody to confide in and you came to me. I wanted you to go but I wanted you there with me. It was a guilty pleasure to have you around.” He blushed a little. “I really appreciated our little chats, but I was so shy I could barely talk to you… and now I’m living with you. It’s a dream come true to have a friend like you with me Safara.”

“Oh Dimitri… That’s so sweet.” I was so touched. I was smiling and blushing hard.

“But yeah… I couldn’t bare to see my angel get hurt. You can’t be with t school or in public. I think people are watching me… And once they find out we’re friends they’ll try to hut you so they can hurt me. People are cruel, Safara, they’d attack you even if you are innocent.”

“But Dimitri, you can’t just let them rule over your life like this. You should call the police and get on the witness protection program!”

“You think I haven’t tried that? The cops in this city don’t care. This district is so corrupt, nobody cares about anything you do. That’s how my dad got into power, that’s why the crime rate is so high here.” He rolled his eyes.

“What if I helped?” I shot up the idea suddenly.

“And how would you do that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Dimitri, what if I could fight along side you? You can’t fight them alone. They’ll over power you someday.” I held his hand in mine and squeezed it. “You said you didn’t want me to get hurt, well, I don’t want you to get hurt or killed either. I want to protect you…”

He was speechless for a moment. He was touched by it obviously because his whole face turned red and he didn’t look at me in the eyes for the rest of the conversation.

“I can’t let you fight for me… If you get hurt, it’s my fault. But… I like the idea.”

“You could train me how to fight! I took karate classes as a kid and self defense!” I pleaded with him.

“I can’t teach you but I can bring you to the guy who taught me… But Safara, this is serious. You sure about it? It’s painful and it will take a lot of time for you to get good.” He explained with a dead pan tone.

“I want to be there for you Dimitri.”

I sealed myself to him in that moment and from then on, we were stuck together.

I was his and he was mine. I was naive. I saw a troubled young man who’d lived a hard life and I just wanted to save him. He called me his angel, and I felt the burden of living up to that title. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I wasn’t ready but I didn’t care. I was there to help. That’s what I thought I was doing.

Little did I know then, but the time Dimitrius and I would spend together would be the worst years of my life because from that day forward, I was brought into his suffering and I would not drown and suffocate in it until out mission was over.

That was the day I became an honorary mafia kid.

SIDE CHAPTER 2

-CRYING-

His mother stopped giving him attention. He’d come home to the sound of weeping or sobbing. At first he didn’t understand. He thought that once people reached adulthood, they stopped crying. He was hoping that would the case for him at least.

He knocked on on his mother’s bed room door. She ignored him, the crying just got louder, so he let himself in.

“Mommy, why are sad?” He whined as he walked over to her.

She was hunched over on the bed, pulling out her hair. She turned to look at him. Her face was so ugly when she cried. Tears staining her pillow and her face showing all the pain she feels inside. The little took a few steps back, frightened by his own mother’s appearance. Gestured to him to come closer. He hesitated but he did so. He sat next to her on the bed and he hugged and caressed his dirty blond hair.

“Dimitrius… Sometimes adults get sad too. Everybody has a different way of coping with sadness.” She explained.

“What’s coping?” He asked.

“Everybody is different and everybody needs to take of themselves.” She brushed off his question. “Mommy needs alone time, dearest.” She kisses him on the forehead.

He got off the bed. “So you want me to leave you alone?”

“Yes dear… I’ll come out and tell you when I feel better, ok?”

“Oh… Ok mommy!” He said as left the room, closing the door behind.

He waited for her to get better.

She never did.

CHAPTER 9

Dimitri Brought me to see one of his dad’s followers. The man was a huge muscular black guy named “Mufa” but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t his real name because he greeted Dimitrius by called him “Damien” instead. Also, he told me that I wasn’t allowed my real name on the streets. I had difficulty coming up with a new name for myself but Dimitrius comforted me and said it was ok for me to take time to think it over. I eventually settled with “Sophia”.

The first time was just basic training for fighting. It was pretty fun. On the way home after it, Dimitri was acting all nervous.

“Hey, um, are you sure about this? You really wanna go back to training?” He asked.

“Yes! Let’s go back twice a week, ok?” I set up our routine and Dimitri just nodded.

That’s what we did together from then on. School, hanging out and training with Mufa. It was so difficult for a while. My body ached but Dimitri was so supportive and he cheered me on. He was always there watching me from the side lines.

One day, we were walking to the candy store after the training when suddenly, a man hit Dimitri in the back with an empty bottle of wine. I jumped when I heard the hard “THUD” and Dimitri’s sharp gasp. It was happening! My first fight. Dimitri coughed and turned around. It was the bottle brothers.

Mufa had mentioned that the bottle brothers were two men from the opposing gang. They used bottles of wine as their weapons, they duel wielded them, using them as basic melee weapon.

The man swung at Dimitri again but this time, he took a step back and got out of the way. I was shaking, distancing myself from them. They ganged up on him. I was so helpless, watching them battering Dimitri.

He got a chance to grab the bottle out of one of their hands and he smashed it on the other brother’s head. I screamed as the bottle shattered in half. He fell to the floor, blood pooling all over with shards of glass all over the ground. This brutality shocked the brother and he froze watching his partner fall to the ground: that was his fatal mistake. Dimitri spun around with the broken bottle griped firmly in his hand and stabbed him in the stomach with the sharp broken part of the bottle.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I ran off and headed towards the park. Once there, I stopped to take a second to breath. Suddenly, my face was in the dirty. It happened so fast I couldn’t even scream.

“OHMYGODSAFARAAREYOUOK?” Dimitri spoke so fast in panic as he grabbed me by the waist and picked me up.

I was violent yanked off the the ground and held tenderly in his arms. He was trembling as he wiped the dirt off of my face.

I was stunned. I opened my eyes and I could see him, but it was blurry. It took me a few seconds for his anxious face to come into focus.

He swallowed some of his anxiety and held me tighter. “Are you ok? I d-didn’t mean to run into you.”

“Uh-huh.” I nodded slowly. The motion of my head bopping like that made me dizzy.

“Y-you started running after I was done with those guys.” He said.

“No. I’m ok.” I tried talking but it came out raspy and quiet. “I was just scared.”

He nodded and lifted me up. He threw me up into the air and I fell on my back into his arms.

He forced a reassuring smile. “I dealt with them. Let’s go home.”

He walks out of the park carrying me around bridal style. I was really confused by this but my head to much for me to question it.

As we walked home, people stared at us. They gave us weird looks. I glared back at them. Dimitri was doing something nice and people were staring at him like he was kidnapping me. I looked up at his face. He had no emotion on his face. I wasn’t sure if he was noticing it too and didn’t care or if he was oblivious.

I put my arm around his shoulders and hugged him for the rest of the walk.

“Dimitrius…”

“Don’t call me that.” He glared down at me.

“Sorry. My mom once told me you have schizophrenia.” I said.

“Oh? What else did she say?”

“You were diagnosed with it when you were 15.” I curled up to him. “That’s all I know.”

“Oh. Well what about it?” He sounded almost offended, but with him, any tone he has in his voice is best to be left ignored. He always sounds like a robot or a chronically annoyed mumbling teen age boy.

“You hallucinate. Mom said that… Do you hear voices?”

“Um.. Not exactly. Sometimes what people say to me gets mixed up, I mean, they’ll say something and I’ll hear the words out of orders.” He explained.

“What’s it like being schizophrenic?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve had it for such a long time that I’ve gotten used to it.” He replied.

“Oh but what do you hallucinate?”

“Well I can’t tell you that.” He forced a small laugh. It was cute. “You’d think I’m crazy.”

“I’m curious though and I won’t judge you.” I reassured him.

He gave me a cautious look, like he was unsure. I gave him puppy dog eyes and that convinced him. He stoped walked and pointed at a group of men.

“Well, right there, there are 3 demons talking to each other.” He said.

“Demons? There 3 guys.”

“They are all black and shadowy. They have arrow shaped tails and big horns. Their eyes and mouths are like light poking through the darkness.” He described as he continued walking.

“So… You seem demons.”

“Yep. Every stranger is a demon to me.”

“Was I a demon when we met?” I asked, kneading my fingers in his hoodie.

“Yes.” He looked down at me. “But you turned into an angel as we got to know each other.”

“Wait what? I’m an angel?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Well aren’t you?” He said with concern.

“I’m a human, Dimitri.”

“B-but you have wings and a halo, you’re so beautiful and shiny… you’re an angel.”

My heart fell into my stomach but I also felt the butterflies fly around in there too. I didn’t know if Dimitri think this about me would be dangerous or if I should be flattered.

“Do you really see me like this?” I asked trying not to sound nervous.

“Yeah. All the time.”

“Hey Dimitri, do you know that your hallucinations aren’t real, right?”

He glared at me. No filter, no held back emotions, he looked actually angry. For real.

“You can walk.” He said and dropped me at on the ground.

I fell down right on my butt. He stepped aside and walked away. It really hurt but seeing him leave me hurt more. I jumped up and I was about to yell at him but I stoped. I lowered my fist.

I remember what my mother said to me. To be careful with him.

Schizophrenics can be really dangerous if you don’t treat them right…

I cocked my head to the side and grinned. Just trying to push it aside. I walked up to him.

“I wonder what it’s like to see how you see the world… It must be interesting.” I said cheerfully, but I was trying not to punch him with all my might.

He looked up. “I could show you, but it’s a little risky.”

I snapped out of my anger and stared at him in confusion. “Wait… How?”

“I did it once before, but if we do it, you need to follow my instructions very carefully.”

“what do we have to do to achieve it?”

“Well, it’s like a ritual… It helped you see inside of the other person’s head. You drink some water in a dark room and the person who want to share their mind has to describe everything to the other person.” He paused for a second and stared at me. “It relies on imagination.”

“Oh… so it’s not actually going into somebody’s mind?” He smirked “No that’s scientifically impossible, but this ritual is as close to it as it gets. Do you want to try it?”

“Sure, why not?” I shrugged.

“Ok! I’m gonna run off to the store and buy some candles. Go home with out me, ok?” He said as he ran off.

“Dimitri! Wait!” I called out to him but he was already gone.

#behind the scene concept #schizophrenic disorder #mafia kids #mafiakids #dimitriatkins #conceptdesign #riverleyk #comic #original character #writers on tumblr #writing process #writing #story ideas #stories #narrative #short story

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scattered-imagination · 5 years

Text

EraserCloudMic

March Madness Fanfiction Exchange for @immalittleteapot

@bnhafanfictionexchange

sorry for the wait and I hope you enjoy! <3 this was so much fun to write!

They Were Roomates...ALL OF THEM

Hizashi sighed as he cuddled on his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest. Why was he locked in his room again? Watching nightmare before Christmas for the 5th time in a row, tears streaming down his face? He heard the door to their apartment open and close, hushed voices filling the space before it disappeared and was replaced with the sound of lips locking.

Ah...that's why.

He felt jealousy fill him as Oboro and Shouta moved to Oboros room to continue their makeout session. The jealousy was quickly filled with shame at feeling that way. He knew how hard it was for Shouta to connect with someone, and he knew how long Oboro had been pining for the brunette. He sighed as he noticed the movie ended. He buried his face in the pillow and almost screamed.

Time to restart it again.

Just as he was about to restart the movie a knock sounded on his door. He startled before quickly turning off his ipad and rubbing the tears quickly off his face.

“cO-- Come in!” he called out, clearing his voice and pushing a smile onto his lips.

The door quickly opened with Shouta on the doorknob and Oboro latched onto his back. The white haired environmental science major grinning wide, cheeks flushed just like his criminal justice brunette boyfriend.l

“ZASHI! We missed you! When did you get home? How was seeing your moms?” Oboro asked as he bounced off Shoutas back and into the room

Shouta puffed and rolled his shoulder

“Oboro, ask before you-” Oboro tackled Hizashi onto the bed “-barge in. sorry Hizashi, but to reiterate what he said, how was the trip?” Shouta asked as he walked into the room, a soft smile on his face

Hizashi huffed under the weight of the other and pushed him off enough for him to sit up. Shouta sat on the other side of him. Hizashi shrugged as he took off his glasses to clean them. Not noticing the worried looks the couple exchanged as they got a full look at his blotchy face.

“It was fine. Ma and mum say hi, they made me bring back food for us to eat. Because as Ma says, we are all far too skinny” he chuckled softly

“Everythings okay at home?” Shouta asked, scooting just a bit closer

“Yeah, why wouldn't it be?”Hizashi asked as he put his glasses back on

“Well, you didn't say hi and you were cuddled in your blankets and I’m guessing that you were watching nightmare before christmas and these are your sad glasses-”

Shouta sighed and he covered his boyfriend's mouth.

“What loud cloud meant was, you don’t seem yourself Hizashi,” Shouta said softly, Oboro nodding frantically behind the other hand.

Hizashi gave a sad smile, happy for their concern… and upset because he couldn’t not be sad...especially with the perfect couple near him.

A couple he would never be a part of.

It was hard being so deeply in love with your two best friends...especially when both of them were in a relationship with each other.

Oh well… at least they wanted to be friends with him still.

“I’m fine...just….out of it I guess...I’m fine really” He chuckled sadly

Oboro and Shouta shared a disbelieving look before turning back to the blonde.

“I call Bullsh--”

“ZASHI! ITS BAR CRAWL TIME! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!”

Shoutas response was thankfully cut off by Nemuris entrance. He gave a silent sigh of relief and gave the couple an embarrassed look.

“It is Saturday….Nemuri Night” he shrugged

Oboro sighed while Shoutas fists clenched in his lap

“You don't have to go if you don't want to Zashi,” Oboro said, laying a hand on his upper back

“We can tell her to fuck off” Shouta agreed, laying a hand on his lower back

Hizashi flushed and bounced off the bed. When did they get so close to him? He shook it off and gave a shake of the head.

“sorry...I have to go...and it might improve my spirits” he shrugged

He quickly scurried away from the confused couple and into Nemuris arms. She might not be great at comforting him in love.

But damn did the woman know what alcohol to use to drown his sorrows

**5 hours later**

He felt himself moving, but it was too dark behind his eyelids to really tell. Tonight had been fun...well fun in what he could remember. He giggled softly

He could hear a door opening

What bar were they going to now?

“Kayama what the...Hizashi?!” S

“Nemuri what happened to him?” O

Shouta...Oboro? They didn't like to drink? What were they doing here?

“He drank Nemuris special dance...four time” a feminine chuckle sounded “He’s your problem now”

“Kayama I swear if you messed with him and--” S

“Shou, let's just get him to bed. He looks even more exhausted than he did this afternoon” O

“Have fun boys!” Kayama giggled before her face faded away

Hizashi squeaked softly as he felt himself being lifted into someone's arms… Shoutas? He could feel the stubble on the top of his head. Someone's soft but calloused hands, with a scar on the middle finger brushed the hair out of his face and tied it in a loose ponytail….Oboros hand. He felt himself smile sleepily as he snuggled into both touches. Chuckles sounded around him

“Damn he's cute” O

“He is...isn’t he...this is so hard” S

“I know babe...but he needs more time...then maybe” O

Hizashis brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to open his eyes. But it didn't work. He groaned in frustration, it only increased as he was laid on the bed. He tried to grasp at the body. Hands tucked him in and they began to leave

NO! He didn’t want them to leave...he felt tears start to trail down his cheeks.

“Don’t go...please...I’m sorry” he hiccuped

A Shhhing sound entered his ear and soon a weight on his left side and a weight on his right side surrounded him.

“Shhh Zashi, its okay” O

“Just relax...you’re safe and sound. Sleep” S

Hizashi swallowed

“But you’ll be gone when I wake up...and I’ll be alone when you are together…. And it hurts” he cried

“What do you mean?” O

“Shhhh” S

“I love you two so much, and I want to be with you two but you are so happy...I can't ruin that… I can't”

Who was he talking to anymore

“Is he-?” O

“You know a drunk Hizashi is an honest Hizashi” S

“I’m so lonely...and it hurts...and I love you two so much….it hurts” he cried

A humming sound filled the air...Oboro

And a soothing hand rubbed up and down his back….Shouta

He drifted off with tears trailing down his face, and the dream versions of Oboro and Shouta snuggling him.

**Morning**

Hizashi groaned as the sunlight filtering into his room woke him up. Why didn't he draw the curtains? 5 more minutes. He tried to get up but found that...he couldn't?

He blinked awake at the weight on him and looked around...paling at his discovery.

Shouta clinging to his back, face snuggled into his hair. Oboro holding them both to his chest, Hizashis head on his chest and his hands on Shoutas back. He began to panic.

Shit shit shit...what had he done?! He tried to squirm out before two sets of arms tightened around him.

“Stop moving” Shouta grumbled, snuggling his chin over Hizashis shoulder.

“We were enjoying this cuddle session” Oboro laughed sleepily, yawning and cracking his jaw

Hizashi blinked in confusion, stunned

“Um…” he whispered “what's happening?”

Oboro laughed while Shouta just mumbled nonsense.

“Remember last night? We tucked you in?” Shouta said softly and seriously.

“And you started to cry about your unrequited love for us?” Oboro smirked

Hizashi felt himself flush red as he covered his face and tried to roll over and die… but two strong grips held him in place.

“I am so so sorry. I never meant to let you two know. I know you both are in a happy, committed relationship and I would never ever do something to jeopardize that I promise! Please just let me die and I can make a proper apology and--”

Hizashis apology was cut off by Oboro...specifically his soft set of lips on his own. Hizashi blinked, not knowing what to do until he felt Shouta started to kiss the back of his neck lovingly. He blinked before nervously kissing Oboro back, flushing as the older kissed him back with a smile and enthusiasm. He felt Shouta chuckle against the back of his neck before Hizashi turned towards Shouta, the brunette capturing his lips in a kiss as well. Oboro now kissing his knuckles and hand while holding it in a gentle grip. Shouta pulled away from the kiss, keeping Hizashi between the two of them.

“We love you too Hizashi...we didn’t know if you wanted to be with us...but we should have asked you” Oboro said softly and kindly.

Shouta nodded, “We have wanted you for a while….” he flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck “...we would like to date you”

“Courting you!” Oboro sung out

Shouta rolled his eyes, though there was a smile on his lips

“All of the above...is that okay?” shouta asked, caressing the blonde's cheek, chuckling as Oboro leaned over to kiss them both.

Hizashi blinked before smiling happily yet nervously.

“Yes...yes please” he cried softly

“Oh Zashi” Oboro cooed as he held him close.

“We got you songbird” Shouta murmured and he joined the hug, keeping Hizashi safe and snug between them.

“We love you Yamada Hizashi” Shouta stated

“And we always will” Oboro smiled

Hizashi sniffled and smiled

“I love you both….so so much” he murmured happily, snuggling into their embrace

#erasermic #loudcloud #shirakumo #shirakumo oboro #erasercloudmic #cloudmic #erasercloud #yamada #yamada hizashi #aizawa #aizawa shouta #fanfiction exchange

178 notes · View notes

ravenforce · 5 years

Text

Ithaca Pt. 5

Word Count: 6078

Warning/s: Implied smut. Angst somewhere. Steve and Val’s still kind of a bitch.

A/N: I wrote my head off for this part. Fitting word count before we transition to the Oceans 8 arc, don’t you think? God, I hope you like this part. Please, comment your reactions. I really love reading from you guys!

PS. If there are any grammatical mistakes I’ve still overlooked, I apologize.

PSS. Since you’re already reading this part. Please, be careful out there. Protect yourself from NCOV. Wear a mask if you’re going outside. Wash your hand regularly, and bring alcohol everywhere you go. Take your vitamins C seriously, and stay hydrated. If you feel flu like symptoms, get yourself checked by experts. Don’t self-medicate. The world is a better place because you’re here. Stay with me. xx

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Manhattan: 1 |

***

Waking up with hangovers has never been your problem ever since you started drinking when you were sixteen. No matter how much you drink, and how drunk you get, you never wake up with a hangover. Mostly, you just wake up exhausted, that’s it; today’s not an exemption. You cracked an eye open and by the cast of beautiful orange around your white walls, streaming from your window blinds, you knew that you slept the whole day away.

You and Maria left the Starks around 6:00 AM. The streets were still almost empty in the sleepy Saturday morning, so you arrived at your apartment after twenty minutes. Maria was already shedding her jacket even before you both could enter the apartment.

“Ugh! I’m so tired,” Maria groaned as she continues to shed the rest of her outfit, leaving a trail of clothes on the floor.

You made sure the deadbolt on the door was locked before heading to your room as well. You had to chuckle at the mess your best friend made before picking everything up. Maria’s never a slob but when she’s drunk, she cares very little where she shed her clothing. Your eyebrow shot to your hairline when the trail stopped in front of your door.

“Uhm. Bubba this isn’t your room,” you said softly while leaning on your doorway.

Maria grunted before hauling her upper body using her elbow. “Shush! Clothes off, and come to bed, now,” she demanded before leaning back down.

“Yes ma’am,” you whispered more to yourself before folding Maria’s clothes and leaving it on a neat pile on your chair.

“Hurry up,” Maria whined, prompting you to kick at your jeans and stripping as fast as you could in your exhausted state.

You crawled in your own bed cautiously. Maria was scooting over you, seeking your body warmth even before you could properly settle down. She reached back at you and made you wrap your arms around her.

“Night Y/N. Love you,” she muttered half asleep.

In the course of your sleep, Maria ended up facing you instead of being the little spoon. You can’t help but smile at the sight of her sleeping face and her holding your hand. You thought Maria’s breathtaking every day but at that moment, as her sleeping serene face is bathed with the golden orange of the setting sun, you thought she’s ethereal. Your smile dipped a little when you remembered.

“I can hear you thinking, Y/N,” she whispered, voice rough and eyes still close.

You chuckled. “Sorry,” you said gravely.

Maria slowly opened her eyes at your tone. You stared at each other for a minute or two before she tried to lean in and kiss you but you playfully shoved her back on the bed.

“Morning breathes, silly,” you teased before rolling on your side and walking out and in the bathroom.

Maria groaned.

***

“You’re such a tease,” Maria said after following you in the bathroom with her toothbrush in hand.

You looked back at your best friend through the mirror and threw her a smirk. You grinned in front of the mirror to check your teeth before taking one last wash off your mouth.

“Hurry up, bubba. I need to shower,” you complained lightly. Maria rolled her eyes at you before rinsing her mouth too.

You tried not to smile too wide as you watch her thoroughly check her pearly whites. She turned towards you.

“Now,” she started, voice an octave lower. “Can I get my kiss?”

You know she’s teasing by the small smile on her face. You rolled your eyes before relenting and quickly smacking your lips together for two seconds. Before she could complain though, you decided to splash her with water. Maria’s eyes grew like saucers, and you laughed out loud as she looks at you with her mouth hanging open.

“You’ll regret that,” she warned after getting over her initial shock.

You didn’t even move to stop her when she reached for the sink and splashed you back. You kicked the bathroom door closed to prevent the water from spilling into the hallway. For a few minutes, the small bathroom was filled with nothing but the sound of splashing water, and laughter. It only ceased when Maria pinned you against her body and the wet sink. You had to fight the urge to shiver and moan at the feeling of the cold hard granite on the small of your back, and her wet warm body on your front.

“Maria,” you whispered, trying your hardest to make it sound like a warning while watching her eyes intently.

When your gaze dropped to her lips, she didn’t give herself time to think too much before crushing your lips together. Besides, it’s not the first time she’s kissing you. Yet you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. This isn’t like the kisses she gives you every day before she goes to school when she has a class earlier than yours, it isn’t like the kisses she gives you when you're not feeling well or the kisses she gives before she goes to bed. No, this is the kind of kiss that ignites a fire in your belly, which results in a flood in your underwear.

“Maria,” you started.

You wanted to ask her what the heck you two are doing but Maria’s hands on your ass are totally fucking distracting. When those glorious hands landed on your breasts, gently kneading and squeezing, you threw all your complaints, doubts, rules, and inhibition in the window and just enjoyed the moment. Especially knowing that it’s temporary, that it won’t last. Especially knowing that any moment, you’ll have to wake up.

And it ends, as fast as it started. Maria pulled away after god knows how long you were lip-locked. She smiled that smile that tells you Maria Hill isn’t a good girl as she surveys her handiwork. She reached out to run her thumb on your bottom lip. You can tell she loves you looking so disheveled for her.

“Go shower, and I’ll make breakfast,” she said before leaving you alone in the bathroom.

You threw your head back with a groan. “Now, who’s the tease?”

***

You emerged from the bathroom after a few minutes. Even with the kitchen exhaust on, the whole apartment smells divine with the aroma of freshly made waffles and brewed coffee wafting in the air.

“God, I love you so much,” you said when you flopped down your designated seat on the dining table.

Maria placed your favorite breakfast ensemble in front of you. She stopped dead on the spot when she saw you wearing dark skinny jeans, and your old MIT shirt.

“Going somewhere?” she asked.

You made an ungodly moan at first bite of your waffles. Maria had to sit down and cross her legs at the sound. “Somewhere,” you mumbled after washing down your first bite with coffee.

Maria frowned a little but you ignored it. The two of you ate in comfortable silence, occasionally swapping engaging in small talk, and checking your mobiles for emails and the news.

“What do you think our friends think of the bomb we dropped this morning?” Maria asked while you clear out the dishes.

You creased your brows together. “I don’t know. I don’t think it matters much,” you answered while loading the dishes on the dishwasher.

“Maybe but it certainly matters to Nat and Carol,” Maria said softly, you almost missed it.

You leaned back on the counter and hummed lightly. Maria stood and faced you. “You know they like you right?” she asked crossing her arms in front of her chest. Maria has reached her boiling point on the matter. She’s way too observant to miss the signs, and she knows your not stupid, let alone blind.

“I do.”

There’s no point in lying to her anyway.

“And you like them too,” she continued. It was more of a statement than a question really.

“I do.”

You can see by the minute that your short response is getting in her nerves. You had to fight the urge to even smile for a little.

“Is that all you’re gonna say?” Her frown growing deeper.

“What do you want to say?” you asked back, hands going into the counter to brace yourself.

“I don’t know,” she answered, running her hand through her hair. “What are you gonna do about it?”

You allowed yourself a small smile. “Nothing. I plan to do nothing about it.”

Maria’s full-blown pissed now, if the nostrils flaring and the creased eyebrow is any indication. She’s about to storm out of the dining room but you stopped her by catching her wrist when she tried to circumvent you.

“You’re fucking cute when you’re jealous,” you teased her with a shit-eating grin on your face.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Right, and I’m not your best mate,” you said before tugging her towards you. For someone who’s supposed to be mad, Maria didn’t even put up a fuss when you drew your bodies together. Your hands landing instantly at the small of her back.

You started walking her back to your bedroom. “You know you can’t be jealous, right?”

Maria sighed. You’re right and she knows it. Her breath hitched when you kissed her lightly.

“Y/N,” she moaned when you started kissing down her neck.

You didn’t stop walking until you felt Maria bump into your bed. You sucked on her pulse point before lightly shoving her down on the mattress. Maria landed on it with a soft tad, face extremely flushed and pupils fully dilated.

“I want Carol and Natasha,” you admitted while pulling your shirt over your head.

Maria frowned at your admission. You looked directly in her eyes before popping the bottom of your skin-tight jeans and drawing them down your legs.

“But you know I wanted you first,” you said before the jeans joined your other clothing on the floor. “I always have.”

“I’m sorry,” Maria said sincerely. You know she’s not lying. If you’re being honest, you think Maria never stopped being sorry for it. Not even after all these years.

You smiled softly at her. “I know,” you said before diving in the bed too.

***

Yours and Maria’s phone was vibrating on your nightstand all-day Sunday but you both decided to ignore it for the weekend. Maria took a peek through after breakfast. You were half sitting, half lying on your back on the couch when she informed you that the Avengers are convening for brunch on the farmer’s market. You looked away from the TV where you’re currently scrolling through Netflix for something to binge.

“Do I look like I plan on going out today?” you asked lazily.

Maria laughed before flopping down next to you.

“You look rather comfy,” she said as she typed out a response to Thor’s invitation.

“You can go if you want.”

You continued your mindless scrolling before you decided on X-Files.

Maria looked up when she heard the opening credits. She smiled broadly at your choice, it’s her favorite. She thought if you choose it, it means you didn’t really want her to go. She finished a text to Tony before powering her mobile off.

“Nah, I think I’ll stay. X-Files is my favorite,” she muttered before scooting closer and cuddling you.

“Nah,” you whispered before leaning down and kissing the top of her head. “I think I’m your favoritest.”

***

Meanwhile, at the diner in front of the Sunday Market, the Avengers sat at the outdoor patio.

“Has anyone heard from Maria and Y/N?” Carol asked agitated while sitting next to Wanda.

Natasha, beautiful Natasha in her black Sunday dress and dark sunglasses frowned oh so little. Tony who arrived last sat next to the redhead.

“Nah, they’re not coming,” Tony declared before popping a fry on his mouth. “Maria said something about not being able to walk properly.”

Everyone gaped at the implication. When Tony looked up and saw his friends’ faces, he just laughed out loud. He always has too much fun making them squirm, and uncomfortable.

“Gross!” Val groaned. She put her headphones back on, effectively tuning out everyone else.

“What?” Tony asked with faux innocence. His grin gave him away though. “Seriously though, they’re not coming. Not even heaven and hell can get in-between those two if they want to be together.”

“They’re that close, huh?” Natasha asked. Trying to mask her intrigue with her carefully constructed poker face.

“Yeah, they’ve known each other since they’re eight, I think,” Tony mused before he got distracted and started fiddling with the smartwatch he was trying to configure.

“If they’re so in love, why aren’t they together?” Steve said with a roll of his eyes. He stood up not long after; he’s clearly not interested in gossiping about you or your love life. When Val saw him leave, she quickly followed.

“Steve has a point?” Carol mused, knitting her perfect eyebrows together.

Thor who was quietly eating and watching people stream in and out of the market suddenly spoke. “There’s definitely a reason why. And if we know, it’s not our story to tell,” he said without looking anywhere but the crowd.

Tony grunted his agreement. “You should get to know her. Maybe, she’ll tell you,” he said before going back to his experiment.

Carol and Natasha looked at each other. Even with Nat’s dark sunglasses up, Carol knew they’re looking straight at each other. And most definitely hatching the same plan; thanks to Tony’s harmless advice.

***

As much as you wanted to prolong the weekend, Mondays are inevitable. To make it worse, you woke up in your bed with the sun beating down your face, and without Maria on your side. She has an early morning class, whereas yours starts after lunch. You looked at your alarm clock, it reads 11:30 AM. You decided to muffle a scream in your pillow before rolling out of bed.

You can hear your phone notifications going off like crazy but you ignored it. You’re not going to be made to rush your morning routine, just to be able to make it to lunch with your friends. You decided a few hours alone time could be a good thing for you too, to decompress and leave the weekend where it should be. After your shower, you decided to wear black dress pants, an MCR shirt, and a black suit jacket.

You had roughly an hour before class. So you decided to have lunch at the local cafe library three blocks away from campus. Even on a rush hour, the place is nearly deserted as the owner keeps the SILENCE ordinance strictly in place. Rowdy teenagers hate places where they can’t yell out their stories even though the person they’re talking to is right in front of their faces. Which made the library cafe the perfect sanctuary for you.

Alas, 1:00 rolled around and you were still two floors below your designated classroom. Thanks to the principal who asked you to carry some of her reports to her office, you’re going to be late on your first literature class this semester. Ten minutes after, you finally arrived at your lecture, panting and sweating through your jacket, in front of your classmates.

“ты опоздал,” (You’re late) your teacher said sternly. He looks intimidating in his stocky, bearded look but you refuse to be scared by his stature.

You stood up straight but before you can address the man, a voice you’ve grown to know well spoke all the way from the back of the class. “Сэр, она здесь новенькая,” (Sir, she’s new here) Natasha spoke confidently.

The teacher didn’t even take his eyes off you. “Это ничего не оправдывает” (It doesn’t excuse anything).

Before Natasha can think to defend you again, you cleared your throat before speaking up for yourself. “Извините, профессор Шостаков. Это больше не повторится,” (I'm sorry Professor Shostakov. It won't happen again), you said in perfect Russian.

“Ах! Она разговаривает. Зовите меня Алекси,” (Ah! She speaks. Call me Alexi) you professor said with a hint of a small on his bearded face. You smiled back politely. Had you been looking around, everyone including Natasha looked surprised you speak the language extremely well.

“Вы хорошо говорите на русском,” (You speak Russian well but you don't look like one), the professor assessed.

“Определенно не русский, но ездил туда пару раз на технические соглашения.” (Definitely not Russian but traveled there a couple of times for tech conventions.)

Professor Alexi stared at you for a minute before he put your identity together. “Heads up, Natasha. You’ve got competition. Sit down Miss Y/L/N,” he waved you away smiling before turning back to the class and continuing his lecture introduction.

Natasha waved at you to sit next to her. You shook your head when you reached her. “I’m totally not competing with you,” you whispered for only Natasha to hear.

“Why not? That should be fun,” she whispered back.

You had to lean back to look at her face to gauge if she’s being serious. You can see her biting her lip to prevent herself from smiling. “Are you sure about that? I don’t think you’ll like losing.”

She just had to crack a smile at that. You turned your attention back to the professor who just pulled out a book from inside his briefcase. The class let out a collective groan but not you, if you’re correct in your assumption as to what’s to come next, you’re excited.

“Alright. Settle down, children,” Alexi’s voice boomed around the whole room. “This semester, I’m assigning Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina as your reading.”

The announcement garnered another wave of disapproval. Natasha raised her hand.

“Yes, Natasha?”

“What’s the catch, Professor?” she asked. Alexi smiled at the young redhead.

The bell rang. Before children can think to run out of class, the professor answered. “It’ll be in Russian text but I’m not unreasonable…” he was cut short by the class disagreeing with that statement too. “As I was saying, I’m not unreasonable. So you’ll be reviewing this book with a partner. Free-range.”

The class quickly turned towards their friends and partnered up before leaving the classroom. You and Nat were the last to leave.

“So, no one asked me to be their partner,” Natasha said almost sheepishly.

“I think they know that you’re mine.��

Natasha was sure her face is as red as a tomato. When you look at her, you smiled confirmed it but you decided to say nothing about it. Instead, you reached out and held Nat’s hand before pulling her to walk with you.

Natasha was not averse per se to public displays of affection but she’s never dated anyone before who deliberately held her hand in public, except for one. When you noticed Natasha’s silence, you glanced over your shoulder to look at her. You stop on your tracks and turned to her.

“Tasha,” you said. Only one person calls her that too. “What’s wrong?”

She looked at you before her gaze involuntarily dropped towards your conjoined hands. You quickly let her hand drop. Natasha frowned just as fast.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” you apologized sincerely. “I just didn’t wanna lose you in the crowd.”

That was a lame-ass excuse. Especially since there’s no crowd but you know there was really no logical explanation as to why you suddenly wanted to be physically connected to her; except that you want to. Before you blow a fuss overthinking though, you felt Natasha’s reaching for you and practically dragging you by the hand to steer you towards your next class.

“It’s okay, I just got caught off-guard,” she said before bumping your shoulders together. Both of you started giggling.

***

Natasha didn’t have another class after Russian Lit. So she walked you to the science labs for your chemistry with Mr. Banner. The labs are built as a stand-alone structure near the pond and away from the main building. The two of you spent the walk exchanging stories about anything except Anna Karenina.

“This is you,” Nat said when you arrived at the door of the labs.

You smiled at her. Something about Natasha just makes you feel grounded, and you like it. By the way, Natasha smiles at you often, and the way she goes out of her way to make you feel included and safe, you know that the feeling is mutual. You’re still cautious though. You’re playing on fire, and you know someone can get hurt if you’re not careful.

Before you can let go of Nat, someone rudely cleared their throat behind the redhead. When you glanced past her shoulder, you’re met by blazing hazel eyes. Carol is gripping the side of her backpack tightly, her knuckles are visibly turning white. Nat turned and saw Carol but didn’t make a move to let go of you.

“Carol,” she greeted. Smile too broad to be taken as friendly.

Carol gritted her teeth. “Tasha.”

If anyone has a plastic spoon on their hand right then and there, you were pretty sure they could cut the tension using it. You didn’t know exactly what to say or do, you’re entranced by the intensity of the two women in front of you. Thankfully, you were saved when Bruce suddenly opened the door. He was rather perplexed with the three of you standing idly on the spot.

“What are you three still doing here? The class’s about to start,” he said. “I’m just gonna make a quick phone call. Get inside.”

“Alright. I got to go. See you later?” Natasha said after Bruce walked past the three of you.

You smiled and nodded at her. Carol frowned deeper when Nat just walked around her without saying goodbye. You watched Carol take deep, calming breathes with her eyes closed.

“You okay, Car?”

Carol released one last heavy sigh before looking into your eyes. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Yeah,” she answered before opening the door for you. “It’s nothing.”

***

It wasn’t nothing.

When you sat next to each other at the back of the lab, Carol barely talked to you. You tried engaging her before class started but by either the lack of or short responses from the blonde, you figured seeing Nat holding someone else’s hand before classes really did a number on her. So you let it go, and decided to focus on the lecture and the assigned worksheet for the day. When class was over, Bruce asked you and Carol to stay behind.

Carol looked nervous. You stood in front of her to stop her from glaring at Bruce and getting in more trouble than she might already be. It effectively made her look you in the eye.

“I’m sure everything’s okay,” you tried to assure her. Your hand going on both her shoulders. And just like that, all the tension on the blonde’s body evaporated, along with it is her shitty mood towards you.

“I don’t know,” she murmured. “Remember the test we had to take before we took a break? I think I flanked it.”

You remember. You also remembered Carol looking rather disheveled more that day too.

“Miss Danvers, I think you know why I called you here,” Bruce cut in. When Carol just frowned and bowed her head, Bruce continued. “You can’t flank any class, Miss Danvers. Your sports scholarship is on the line.”

“I know,” Carol answered. Her usual confident, happy personality gone at the moment. “I was just distracted.”

“I can tutor her,” you suggested.

Carol looked at you with wide eyes. Bruce smiled. “That’s exactly why I asked you to stay, actually.”

“No! No, no. You can’t ask her to do that,” Carol came to her senses and disagreed.

“Technically, he didn’t ask me. I volunteered,” you answered cheekily.

“But you’re busy too.”

“Not for you, I’m not,” you said sincerely and without hesitation.

Carol couldn’t argue after that. Bruce watched the interaction with a smile. “That’s settled then. Now, leave my lab.”

Without another thought, you reached for Carol’s hands too without thinking too much; just like how you did with Natasha.

“Are you sure you’re good to help me?”

You glanced over your shoulder. “Duh. Besides, now I don’t have to make an excuse to spend time with you.”

Carol blushed at that.

***

You’ve been having study sessions with Nat and Carol for a month and a half now. As much as possible you try to study with the two separately, as studying together can be a little stressful. Especially when Natasha and Carol can’t stop teasing each other until one of them gets seriously pissed. Knowing each other too well for too long, made pushing each other’s buttons pretty easy.

Natasha gets pretty riled up every time Carol gets handsy with you. You didn’t mind, to be honest. You liked being in Carol’s personal space because it feels warm and safe. Being around Carol makes you feel protected; a feeling so scarce in your childhood, you almost forgot what it feels like. It doesn’t help your cause that Carol’s the type of woman who doesn’t take herself very seriously, and laughs at her own jokes; you love that about her. When Carol laughs your heart skips a beat or two, no matter how much you try to deny and compartmentalize it.

Carol, on the other hand, gets pissed when you and Natasha discuss the book in Russian; completely alienating the blonde from the conversation. You couldn’t help it though, Natasha is a whole new level of experience. Being around Natasha is playing solving your favorite puzzle. You knew Natasha’s smart through stories you’ve heard from your friends but interacting with Natasha every day, and studying together allowed you to delve into the beauty of her brain. You just love being able to pick her brains every day.

You knew you like them from the get-go. You even confessed to Maria about it but only after you started studying with those two that you figured it’s growing to be more than just a schoolgirl crush. And by then, it was too late to hit the brakes. You’ve flown too close to the sun, and now your falling.

Just thinking about it is making you cringe for so many reasons.

First, you don’t do feelings. You haven’t in a long time. You haven’t since Maria was adopted. A conversation that arises once when you went to Lake Tahoe to help the Odinson brothers clean up their cabin.

Loki caught a glimpse of the wallpaper on your phone after you set it down on the center table. It’s a photo of you and Maria the weekend you ditched lunch at the Sunday Market.

“Hey Y/N, I hope you don’t mind but I have a question,” he started.

You took two sips of your beer before answering. “I don’t mind. What is it?”

Loki looked hesitant at first. “How come you and Maria aren’t together? You had a history, right?”

Thor elbowed his younger brother when he caught the sad look on your face. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

You blinked a couple of times to get you situated back in the present. You smiled at the boys, and they know, by the way, that your smile didn’t reach your eyes that you’re only being polite.

“It’s okay. The answer is pretty simple actually,” you paused to take a huge swig of your beer. The brothers glanced at each other. “She didn’t choose me.”

The silence that followed is palpable. You figured the boys didn’t know what to say or didn’t know how to proceed. You leaned back on the couch and tucked your feet under you before launching into the story.

“It’s a long time ago. We had another friend from the orphanage, his name is Bucky. He’s Maria’s first love.”

“Let me guess, she’s yours?” Loki asked, leaning forward, clearly intrigued

“She was.”

“Did she know?”

“She does. I never lied to her.”

“And then?” You chuckled at Loki’s eagerness.

“Bucks older than us. So he aged out of the system and decided to move away. He kept in touch though.”

“What happened next?” Thor prompted you to continue.

“And then Nick adopted Maria. Nick travels a lot for work. So he gave Maria the option to stay and make the town ‘home base’ or move somewhere else. You can guess what she chose.”

“Why our humble town then?” Loki couldn’t help but wonder.

“I found out that Bucky was here for a while.”

“You found out?” Loki stood from his chair and started pacing. “You helped her find the guy he likes over you?”

“I did.”

“Why?” Loki is frustrated now. “I thought you’re a genius.”

“I never subscribe to that term, and because I love her,” you answered confidently. By the look on your face, Thor understands that you don’t regret your decision, not even for a second.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Brother!” Thor warned but you just laughed. A genuine laugh this time.

“I know but Bucky’s the real idiot for letting Maria go.”

Maria leaving scarred you more than you let people know. It is the reason why you stopped getting attached to people and developed a very transactional way of dealing with partners instead. You developed rules of engagement to which you and your partners should uphold.

Rule # 1: Don’t get attached. The fun stops when the feeling starts.

Rule # 2: If you’re the one who starts having feelings first, leave. Leave before they can leave you.

Second, Carol and Natasha are your friends. You don’t fuck friends, not after Maria that is. You find it more complicated to extricate yourself from the situation and execute Rule # 2 then because you don’t quit on your friends. Especially, friends, you can’t just ignore or ghost when things go up in flames because you live in the same town, go to the same school, goes to the same parties, have the same crew, and friends you have regular breakfast and brunches with. Leaving would be too complicated, and probably heart-wrenching.

Lastly, you’re pretty sure Nat and Carol have history. No one talks about it, not even Maria. So either, the rest of the team doesn’t know or they all agreed not to talk about it. Either way, you have eyes, and you can see the way they look at each other when they don’t think anyone was looking. It’s still full of love, and that’s the worse fuel for your hesitation. If the two still has unresolved issues and feelings with each other, it’ll be idiotic to stand in the eye of a brewing storm.

***

In the course of studying together, Nat and Carol came clean about their feelings towards you of course. On separate occasions, of course. You also laid out your cards on the table. You told both of them your history with Maria. You told them you weren’t ready, not because you’re still hanged up on your best friend but because you’ve created a thick wall of ice around your heart that it’ll take time for it to thaw. They said they understood, they said they’ll wait.

So you don’t understand why you’re watching the two women who nearly swore on their feelings for you lip-locked, sharing spit with Steve and Valkyrie in the ballroom of Thor’s mansion where you’re currently having a party. You don’t understand why this is happening now, when you’ve already made a decision.

They’re too engrossed with each other, they didn’t even hear your glass of scotch breaking in your hand. You’re too absorbed in deciphering whether what you’re seeing is reality or a by-product of a nightmare you willingly walked into.

“What the fuck?!”

Tony screaming behind you broke you out of your reverie. Your eyes started to water, you could feel the pain in your hand as a broken glass dug into your palm. Unfortunately, the pairs broke away from each other too. Nat and Carol’s eyes instantly connected with yours. Your tear-stained face, and bloody hands cut through their alcohol addled brain.

“Y/N,” they whispered at the same time before scrambling to get off Steve and Valkyrie’s lap.

You smiled before turning on your heels and running away.

***

Taglist: @kaytoopio @marvelfansince08love @marvelb00kwolf @shycucumbersandwich @subject7creed

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monsterlovinghours · 5 years

Note

Not to be thirsty on my main, but uhm... May I request some mid-summer, nighttime skinny dipping with Bajo? Maybe with smut if you feel so inclined~

It wasn’t hard for Bajo to coax you to join him out at his farm, in the late throes of spring melting into summer when the trees were green and his flowerbeds a vivid rainbow of color. It was nice to see him like this, so excited to show you around his little sanctuary, his private place away from the taxing businesses he ran, his eyes soft and adoring as he watched you walk through his gardens. After the sun had set and the land was swathed in velvet darkness, he took your hand and gently kissed your knuckles.

“There’s a pond behind those trees, mariposa. It’s private and quiet, and when the water’s still it reflects the whole sky; you’ll feel like you’re lying under a blanket of stars.” He smiled, his brow lifting as his eyes gleamed. “Would you join me for a swim?”

Immediately, you nodded. You hadn’t brought a bathing suit, and honestly, you wouldn’t have bothered to wear it if you did. Bajo led you through the trees, grinning the entire way, until you reached the shore. The sand was soft, still warm from the day against your bare feet, and without a word, you began to peel your clothes from your body. You could feel him watching, but you didn’t care; how many times had he seen you naked by now, anyway? The water was warm around your ankles as you began to wade in, cooling as it deepened, refreshing against your bare skin. Bajo joined you quickly, without a stitch of clothing, his hair slicked back as he swam toward you. The two of you drifted out far enough that you could stand with the water up to your shoulders, and then stopped, his arms wrapping around you, his chest pressed to your back.

“Be still, querida, let the water settle.”

Once it did, it was hard to tell where the water ended and the sky began, the stars wrapped around you like a gown of shimmering black velvet. “Oh, Bajo,” you breathed, leaning back against him as he pressed gentle kisses to your neck. “It’s gorgeous.”

“It pales in comparison to you,” he purred, his hand stroking across your stomach to make you shiver. “There is no star in all the heavens that shines more beautifully than you.”

There was silence, and then you both started snickering, unable to take each other seriously as you turned in his arms. “You stole one of Gio’s books of poetry, didn’t you?”

“I’m capable of a poetic thought now and then,” he protested between chuckles, dotting your cheeks with kisses. “Como cuando abro tu lindo coño rosado, parece una de mis rosas." You weren’t fluent in Spanish, but you had picked up enough to make your cheeks turn red at the low, seductive croon. His grin widened, silver teeth flashing in the moonlight, as he lowered his kisses to your neck.

“I can practically feel your skin warming, mariposa,” he cooed, his hands wandering down your body beneath the water to wrap around your hips. You barely had time to draw a breath before his fingers slipped between your legs, dragging through your folds to dip into your center before crooking once over your clit. “Ah, it seems she’s warming up for me too.” You whimpered his name, and he chuckled, holding you closer. “Would she like some attention, do you think? She feels awfully neglected.”

You could barely draw a breath to reply when he dove beneath the water, his hands grasping your hips, when all of a sudden you felt his mouth press to you, his tongue flicking your clit once in greeting. Your yelped echoed in the still night as he drew your leg over his shoulder, opening you up to him as he pushed his tongue into your entrance, tasting your warmth from the inside. Even though his mouth was buried between your thighs, even though he was submerged beneath the water, his voice murmured lowly at your ear; you could almost feel his breath tickling your skin.

“So sweet for me, pequeña. Soft as a rose petal against my tongue, and so warm.” His lips wrapped around your clit, not applying suction just yet, merely kissing it, sliding his lips over the sensitive nub. “Oh, she likes my kisses. Do you feel her throbbing, dulcinea?” In his hold you shuddered, feeling warmth spread through your entire body at the beckoning of his mouth.

“B-Bajo...oh fuck, more, please…”

“You want me to make you come, sweet thing?” You could practically feel the vibrations of his satisfied chuckle against your flesh as his tongue swiped over your clit, two fingers sliding into your entrance to curl against your sweet spot. His fingers sank into your lower back, his hold fierce and unbreakable as his tongue lapped against your clit, tugging you closer and closer to the edge of release. Beneath the water, your hands wove into his hair, holding him fast to you, your hips bucking up into his mouth.

“Fuck, yes! I’m so close, baby, please…”

He didn’t answer; the sucking at your clit was answer enough. His fingers drove deeper into you, claws raking across your back as he growled against you. In little more than a minute, he had you coming undone on his tongue, your cries swallowed up by the night, unheard by everyone but him.

Once you began to come down, his kisses traveled up your body, his head slowly coming up out of the water as he nipped between your breasts and up to your neck. “How was that, bonita amante? Poetic enough for you?”

You laughed breathlessly, leaning into him. “You’re a regular Pablo Neruda.”

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #escarabajo #this man be thorsty

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babybottlepop96 · 4 years

Text

A/N: just a cute little story about my favorite superhero!

Warnings: fluff... Pinning...... Attempted rape (but nothing actually happens so no graphic shit happening cause that's just terrible but thought I should put it in there)

Who would've thought being the new kid would be awkward and weird? Every new kid, that's who and it was no different for (y/n) as she entered her new school. Moving from Pennsylvania to New York hadn't been a drastic change, only a few hours drive, but the change from being in amish country to the hustle and bustle of New York, was very different for her. When she entered the school, all eyes were on her. She felt self conscience, wrapping her arms around her torso. Her (h/c) hair was up in a high ponytail, her thick black framed glasses sat perched on her nose as her (e/c) was cast down towards the floor, avoiding the stares of the other students. She was wearing an oversized black sweater that ended just below her ass and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans with her black converse.

She made quick work of finding her locker, looking at her schedule and grabbing the books she needed, throwing into her Star Wars backpack. She closed her locker once she had everything and made her way towards her first class. One thing though, she had no idea where any of her classes were.

"Hey, you look a little lost. Need any help?" A male voice spoke to her from the side, she glanced towards the boy with short black hair and a friendly smile.

"Y-yeah, thank you." He looked at her schedule.

"Hey, you got the same class as me!" He smiled and (y/n) returned it. "My name is Ned."

"(Y/n), it's nice to meet you." The two soon arrived at the classroom and Ned waved to you as he walked towards a couple of other students as (y/n) made her way to the teacher.

"Hey Ned! Who was the girl you were talking to?" A girl with curly black hair asked.

"Her name is (y/n), it's her first day and she looked lost. Why yabask, MJ?"

"Because, Peter has been staring at her ever since you two walked in." She smiled and sure enough, the blonde haired boy next to her was still looking at her. "Hello, earth to Peter!" Mj snapped her fingers in his ear.

"Hmm? What?" Peter looked at his friends, both having smug looks plastered across their faces. "What?"

"Ok every, take your seats…." The teacher then began the lesson, something about basic acids and solvents and shit like that. Basically a review of basic Chemistry, but Peter couldn't focus, he was too busy looking at the (h/c) hairs girl sitting in front a few rows over. Suddenly the bell rang and Peter was snapped out of his daydream. The class gathered up their things and exited into the hallway.

"Hey, Ned?" A female voice sounded behind the three amigos.

"Oh, hey (y/n)! What's up? Ned asked as he turned to her.

"I have no idea where my next class is." She said shyly, a small blush tinting her cheeks. Ned took a look at her schedule and smiled.

"You actually have class with Peter next." He smiled at Peter, whose face was also starting to grow a blush.

"Well, we will see you at lunch Pete." MJ put her hand on his shoulder and MJ and Ned left, leaving Peter and (y/n) alone.

"So… uhmm.. c-can you lead the way?" She asked.

"Oh, umm.. Y-yeah! Follow me." Peter then turned and started to walk, (y/n) following behind. What neither of the two new, was that this was going to be the start of a wonderful friendship.

Time skip to two months later, Peter and (y/n) were at his apartment, working on their photography assignment. "Peter, (y/n)?"

"Yes Aunt May?" Peter called from his bedroom.

"I'm heading out, I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"Ok! See you later! Have fun! USE PROTECTION!" Peter called and the sound of May's heels stopped for a moment accompanied by a sigh and stifled laughter. Then the door opened and closed and (y/n) and Peter were left alone.

"Really, Parker? Use protection?" She laughed and Peter just smiled that dorky smile that (y/n) grew to love. Actually, she grew to love everything about the boy sitting in front of her. His laugh, his smile, his love for StarWars and just everything.

"What can I say? She told me the same thing before you came over." He laughed and then froze. She stared at him, face frozen in a state of shock. His face grew redder and redder with passing second.

"She…. "

"Yeahhh…." He said drawing out the word. Neither of them said anything for a moment until (y/n) started laughing.

"Oh my God! That's hysterical! Best aunt ever! I mean, seriously! My family barely remembers my name and if anything like that is said, I'd be looking for a new place to live! Oh my God I love your aunt!" Peter's face grew hotter, though he began to smile even more. As the night came closer, the two decided they had enough of school work and decided to watch a movie. StarWars, obviously. "Come on Peter! How can you say that Revenge of the Sith is better than Rouge One!"

"Because this is where Vader comes into play!"

"But Rouge One has so much more plot and the story is just amazing and it's one with a sad ending! Most of the others have happyish endings!"

"Why do you like sad endings?"

"Because it's a nice change from the usually happy ending most movies have." She shrugged and Peter sighed and put on Rouge One. "Aww! Thank you, Peter!" She kissed his cheek and snuggled close to Peter's side. Peter on the other hand, couldn't pay attention to anything, she kissed his cheek. (Y/n), kissed…. His cheek! "Ok, I should probably get home." (Y/n) when the movie ended.

"Yeah.. probably, don't want ya to get into trouble." She smiled at him and grabbed her things.

"I'll see ya tomorrow. To finish our project." Peter nodded in agreement, to say he was excited was an understatement. He had grown feelings for this girl since that very first day she arrived. She was funny and kind and sweet. Always knew what to say when he was stressing about something, mainly about his Spidey duties, but she doesn't need to know about that.

(Y/n) walked down the dimly lit streets, taking alley ways to make the long walk home shorter. Suddenly, a large hand was on her shoulder, pushing her into the grimy wall. "Keep quiet and this will all go smoothly." The deep voice spoke, every word dripped with malice. (Y/n) whimpered a bit, scared out of her wits, with no one around to save her at this time of night. One of the man's hands gripped at her throat, slightly squeezing as if he was saying, "I'm in charge and there is nothing you can do about it." His other hand roamed her hips and sides. She let another small whimper.

"P-please! Don't do this!" She struggled a bit before his grip on her throat tightened, leaving just enough room for her to get some small breaths.

"I would let her go if I was you." A voice sounded from behind the man. The man turned and (y/n) got a glimpse of the person who spoke. A tallish figure adorning a blue and red suit and mask, a spider in the center of the chest. The infamous SpiderMan that she heard everyone in school talking about. The brutish man laughed.

"And what are you gonna do about it, wannabe superhero?" Suddenly a web was shot out, covering the man's mouth and the man let out a muffled scream, letting go of (y/n)'s neck. She drew in some much needed breaths as she began to run away, suddenly the man grabbed the hood of her sweatshirt and tugged her back harshly. She fell backwards and her head smacked against the concrete.

Her vision started to go in and out as she groaned and went to turn over onto her stomach, muffled screams and sounds of bodies being thrown against dumpsters could be faintly heard through the ringing in her ears. Suddenly, a hand was coming towards her and she screamed and scooted back. "Hey, it's okay. It's me, SpiderMan." She looked at the hooded hero and threw herself at him, hugging him tightly and thanking him over and over again. Then, Spiderman held her and whispered, "hold on." And the two lifted from the ground, swinging through the city.

Soon they landed on the roof of her apartment building and she let go of him. "I would like to thank you again, for saving me." She blushed.

"Anything for a pretty lady."

"C-can I kiss you?" She asked and he nodded. She walked over and gently tugged the mask just above his mouth and gave a sweet kiss on his lips. He gently kissed back, placing his hands on the small of her back. Once they pulled apart she smiled and rolled his mask back down. "I'll see you tomorrow, Peter." She smirked and began to walk away.

"Wait!" Peter called after her, taking his mask fully off. "How did you know it was me!?"

"I didn't, not until I saw those lips, the lips I fantasized about kissing for months." She giggled and walked through the door leading inside her apartment building, leaving a dumbfounded but smiling Peter Parker.

"See you tomorrow." He waved at the door, he pulled his mask back on and jumped from the building, swinging away with the stupidest smiling face. At least he wasn't the only who fantasized about kissing the other one.

#spiderman #the avengers #tom holland spiderman #fluff #cuteness #spiderman vibes make me happy #who doesnt like spiderman?

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chanbangblog · 5 years

Text

Wasted Time

one shot request: “hey love could I get a best friend's brother! chris, minho, or woojin (if you still write for him) angsty fluff 🙈 pls and ty ♡”

(A/N: minho x reader, fluff, angst, 1.8k words )

You had dreaded this day for months. Ever since she told you really. The day your best friend would be moving. Yeah, you would miss her. But you were happy for her, happy she was finally getting out of your shithole town and moving to the city for her fancy new job. You’d been friends since you were kids, spent an infinite number of nights under this roof at her parent’s house, and now it was over. One of the few things that made living in this town bearable. Yeah, one of the few things, you thought. But there was really just one other reason, Lee Minho.

The relationship you had with Minho was complicated to say the least, and by complicated you meant seriously fucked up. You’d had a crush on him ever since you could remember, but it was never reciprocated, well, at least you thought it wasn’t. Minho was just the kind of guy you wanted to be around, when he spoke to you he would look you directly in the eyes and you swore to god he could see your soul. He was nice, overly concerned with doing the right thing, he was smart, he was fun. He was everything.

Your dynamic had changed when Minho had gotten his first girlfriend, even though he was a year older than you, felt protective since you’d known him so long and basically gown up with him. Yeah, that’s what it was, protectiveness. Not jealousy or anything. Nope, never. He had confided in you about his relationship, the problems he and his girlfriend had, shit he knew his sister would make fun of him for. He was 16 when he and his girlfriend started dating and texting about what to get her as a birthday present or how to tell her it really was okay that they spend time with friends separately, had turned into a near constant dialogue between you two.

Your friend knew about it, but you downplayed how much it meant to you, downplayed your true feelings for him, the ones that were slowly eating you alive. Years went by, now he was 22 and still in the same relationship. One that seemed like a prison for him, the way you saw it.

Minho had been with her his entire young adult life, he had no clue how to be single, or how adult relationships worked. This childish, controlling bullshit she put him through, was not an adult or even healthy relationship and you’d told him as much.

“I know but I love her,” he’d lament in text messages, or in whispers at night when you’d both sneak downstairs after everyone had been asleep.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you’re right for each other,” you’d say back, exasperated.

You just wanted him happy, truly, you did. You wanted someone to see his true worth, someone to cherish him, love him for all the things you saw in him.

You just wanted him happy, even if that meant it wasn’t with you.

The first time he’d texted you when you were sleeping over you’d nearly had a heart attack and died on the spot. This was it, you’d thought. He’s going to tell me he has feelings for me, why else would he ask to meet me in the middle of the night?

But when you’d met him it was just for him to complain, once again about a stupid fight with his girlfriend, how he didn’t know what he was doing with his life. Blah. Blah. Blah.

You’d both slipped back up the stairwell and into your separate beds after talking until the first signs of dawn. It left you feeling full and empty at the same time. So many more meetings just like that one had occurred, and each time you felt your hope being slowly chipped away, hope that he could ever see you as anything but a friend.

But if he only saw you as a friend why did he also downplay how close you all were? When you were around his parents and sister, you both just acted like you all were just acquaintances. Why did you all meet to talk in the middle of the night? Why couldn’t you just talk openly? It didn’t make sense but you didn’t want to question it, didn’t want to ever risk messing up how close you all had gotten.

When you had boyfriends in the past, Minho had been happy for you, never the slightest hint of jealousy and it drove you mad. Once, you and your ex had met at your friend’s house and you’d walked into the kitchen to he and Minho talking. It was a wake up call, a wake up call that your eyes shouldn’t automatically go to your best friend’s brother instead of your own damn boyfriend when you walked into a room. The sight of them together had made you sick, he paled in comparison to Minho, there’s no way he could ever make you feel 1% of what Minho made you feel as just your “friend.” Your ex hadn’t done anything wrong, he had done everything right, actually. But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was, you just weren’t sure if anyone in this world could stand a chance in your heart against Lee Minho.

So that’s how you ended up here. At the end of the driveway, waving off your bestfriend and her parents as they left to move her into her apartment in the city. Minho at your side, not standing close like you normally would because you were in the presence of others. As they drove off you felt dread creeping into your core. You weren’t just losing her, you were going to lose Minho too. Your little meetings would be no more, you no longer had a reason to come over anymore, not with your best friend gone. Now he would find someone else to spend hours talking with, you would fade out of his life, you were sure of it, and you just couldn’t bear it.

He turned to face you, “we need to talk,” he said.

Oh boy, another venting session. You really weren’t in the mood. You were always in the mood to be around him, but you were desperately fighting for your composure at this point and you didn’t want to crack.

“Okay,” you said, of course because you just didn’t know how to say no to this boy.

“You’d better enjoy this while it lasts, because I won’t be here for a while,” you said, walking through the front door and toward the living room, “at least not until the next holiday or whatever, when she comes home to visit.”

“Well, y/n, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said slowly, sitting on the couch next to you carefully, he looked, nervous?

Nervous but so beautiful at the same time. He was wearing a striped sweater and skinny jeans ripped at the knees, his dark hair was tousled, you tried not to stare, even after all these years you were in awe of what a work of art this boy was.

“I broke up with her.” He said resolutely, reading your face for a response. You couldn’t imagine what he saw there because you were at a loss for words.

“I-I’m- um, what?” you sputtered, after all these years, he had taken your advice. But it didn’t seem real, you thought the day would never come, “why?”

“Are you really asking me why, y/n? You know everything about our relationship,” Minho said calmly.

“Well, yeah, wow. Congrats, I guess?” you said, unsure of how to respond, “guess that means Lee Minho is on the market!”

You smiled the most convincing smile you could muster. The thought of him dating made you want to vomit, but you really did want him to be happy, so you had to encourage him. It was the right thing to do and he finally had his freedom.

“Not really,” he started, your face changing to confusion, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about what went wrong in the relationship, about the things you told me, about how to fix it. But there was just no fixing it.”

“Yeah, it was just something you outgrew, I’ve told you that.” You said, trying to follow where he was going with this.

“There was just no fixing it because she’s not you.” Minho said, his voice suddenly sounding hoarse. You felt a wave of nausea and like you had just fell from a building and slammed on the concrete simultaneously. Was this a joke? He looked sincere, the most sincere you had ever seen him, his eyes wide, studying you, waiting for any reaction. You had to give him one but you were drawing a blank.

“Please, just say something, I know you don’t see me like that. But I just had to tell you, I had to tell you before you left and I didn’t see you anymore. I just…I’d hoped maybe there was some chance-“

“Minho…” you started, how could you tell him, after all the years you’d spend singing your love for him through songs in the car, through paragraphs in your journal, thoughts that kept you up at night, and now you were here, unable to form anything resembling a coherent sentence.

So you stopped trying, like a woman possessed, you leaned forward and finally, crashed your lips together, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, fingers snaking up to grab his hair and pull him closer. It took him a second of shock before his lips began moving against yours, and when they did, you felt a rush of relief, like this is how it was always supposed to be. Like worlds had formed and ended and began again just for everything to line up perfectly so this moment could take place.

You inhaled, relishing his scent, loving every thing about this moment. His hands found your waist as he pulled you into his lap and deepened the kiss. Your stomach was doing flips as you followed his lead, anxious for what might be coming next but ready for it at the same time. You felt so much, so much your mind was screaming with words you needed to say, words you’d finally found.

You pulled away from him, you looked at him drinking in the sight, lips pink from friction, eyes wide and the biggest grin on his face.

“I love you, Lee Minho.” You said, as a tear ghosted down your face. His eyes sparkled.

“I love you too. I’ve loved you since the first night we spent talking until the sun came up. I’m sorry it took me so long to admit it.” He said, voice cracking once or twice.

“It’s okay, it was meant to be this way, let’s just…not waste any more time.” You said, hands finding his, and interlocking perfectly.

“I’m not wasting any more time, you’re mine and I don’t care who knows it.” He declared, and your lips met again.

#one shot #request #one shot request #lee know fic #lee know x reader #lee minho fic #lee minho x reader #stray kids fics #lee know angst #lee know fluff #stray kids fic

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alilpunkrock · 5 years

Text

Home for the holidays

Ryan Sitkowski x reader

Not requested

A/n: wow I am hella late for a Christmas fic but honestly, who cares? I’m definitely making a part 2 with smut so don’t you worry. I hope you enjoy!! This is my last fic of 2019. Happy New Years! 🖤

Tag list: @chriscrosscerulli @myanaconda-will-consider1t @thisplace-ishaunted @ryansitkowskiswifey @musicsexandpizza69 @whyisgmora

••••••••••

“Ryan, please! I need you to do this for me!” I pleaded. He was standing on the other side of the counter with his arms crossed.

“Why? You can easily go out and find an actual boyfriend, why do I have to be your fake one?” He asked. I sighed in frustration.

“Because I don’t want an actual boyfriend! I just need you to pretend so my mom will get off my back! I swear her and my aunt think I’m going to die a spinster.” I leaned against the counter and put my head in my hands. There was silence for a moment before Ryan sighed.

“Okay, fine. I’ll do it. But,” Ryan started, my head shot up. “You have to clean my apartment, spotless. And cook me dinner for a whole week.” Ryan listed his conditions.

I squealed in excitement and relief.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I ran around the counter and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him, jumping up and down. “Seriously, I’ll literally do whatever you want! Okay! I got to go, I’ll be over tomorrow to let you know what’s going to happen.” I put my sweatshirt on and grabbed my keys and purse running out the door.

Ryan shook his head and wondered what he had gotten himself into.

The next day I arrived at Ryan’s apartment earlier than I knew he’d appreciate. He opened the door at 9am in his underwear and a t shirt.

“Why so early?” He asked, moving to the side and letting me in. Snow covered the ground outside and Ryan shivered at the thought of being outside right now.

“Sorry, I forgot you like to sleep till the evening.” Ryan rolled his eyes.

“I’m going to put pants on, please make a pot of coffee.” He said walking down the hallway to his room. I took my shoes off by the couch and made my way into the kitchen. I started Ryan’s Keurig, pulling two coffee mugs from the cupboard above my head. Ryan came back in wearing sweats and a sweatshirt.

He looked cozy. And warm. And like you wanted to cuddle him.

Wait, what? No. Fake boyfriend. Remember Y/N?

I cleared your throat and put Ryan’s cup under the spout to pour the coffee, mine next. I turned and handed Ryan his cup.

“Creamer?” I asked walking to his fridge. He shook his head and took a drink of the black coffee in his cup. I grabbed the vanilla creamer for mine.

“So, what’s happening?” Ryan asked, clearly in a better mood after a few drinks of coffee. I took a drink of my own.

“Well, in order to miss the crazy holiday rush, my mom bought us tickets to fly out next Friday. We’ll get there Friday night and will be there till the 30th. I told her it’s a little long, but if you need to fly back before then that’s totally fine.” I explained. He nodded.

“The 30th should be fine. The guys and I don’t start tour until a few weeks into January.” He agreed. I nodded and it got quiet.

“I really can’t thank you enough Ry. You’re seriously the best person ever.” He chuckled and shook his head.

“What are friends for. Are you doing anything else today?” Ryan asked me.

“Hmm no, it’s Sunday so I’m off of work. I have an early day tomorrow so I was going to stop by the store after I got off work. Why?” I asked sipping from my cup.

“Because I’m not doing anything either and there’s a stack of Christmas movies next to my tv that, now, need to be watched before next week. And, since you said you’d do whatever I wanted, you’re stuck watching them with me.” I rolled my eyes, smiling.

“Ugh if you’re forcing me.”

We walked in to the living room, I immediately sat on the couch, pulling my legs underneath me. Ryan was picking through movies trying to find one to watch. I admired Ryan a lot. He’s very talented at everything he does. When he gets passionate about something he gives it his all. He’s taught me a lot about myself over the 6 years I’ve known him. He’s seen me through terrible break ups, he’s taken care of me through some of the worst sicknesses I’ve ever had. He’s a genuinely good guy. The girl who ends up with him better know how lucky she is.

“Y/N?” Ryan’s voice broke my train of thought.

“Huh?” He smirked.

“See something you like?” He asked making me roll my eyes.

“You wish, what do you want?”

“Elf?” He asked putting it in the DVD player. I nodded.

We settled on the couch for the rest of the night watching movies.

—————

By the end of the week, Ryan and I were packed for the next couple weeks. I had to remind Ryan not to pack all his Blackcraft shirts and give my grandma a heart attack.

“Okay so do you remember what I told you about our backstory?” I asked in the car in the way to the airport.

“Yes, Y/N. It’s the same as always we’re just a couple now. I’m a great actor I promise we can sell it. Now, what should we avoid doing to make sure it’s not awkward when we get home?” He asked me. I hadn’t thought of that.

“Kissing maybe, like cheeks are fine, forehead yes, but avoid lips. That’s too intimate.” I said. “We might be sharing a room too, so if you’d like I’ll sleep on the floor and you can have the bed.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous. We’ve shared a twin sized bed before, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Ryan assured me.

The flight to my home town felt like it was over too soon. I huffed when I saw the seatbelt light come on.

“You okay?” Ryan asked. “You’re not backing out now are you?” I shook my head.

“I just dread coming home every year. My family always has something to say about how I live my life. Not to mention how guilty my mom makes me feel about moving so far away.” I word vomited before I could stop myself. “Sorry, didn’t mean to lay that on you.” I sighed.

“Hey,” Ryan grabbed my hand. “You got me this time. I will rant and rave about you the whole time if I have to if that’s what it takes to get your family off your back.”

I smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. His eyes were wide when I pulled back.

“Just practicing.”

—————

“Y/N!!” I heard my name being called across the airport.

“Oh god, they’re all here.” I said looking up at Ryan. He chuckled and grabbed my hand his back pack on his back and duffle in the other. I had my rolling suitcase and small duffle sitting on top in my free hand.

“Oh you’re so skinny! Do you ever eat?” My mom all but yelled in my ear as she hugged me. Her, my two aunts, my sister and my cousin were gathered around Ryan and I.

“Hello to you too mom.” I said hugging her back. She pulled away and looked at Ryan.

“Hello! You must be Ryan! Y/N talks about you all the time!” She hugged him.

“Mom!” My face burned up. Ryan chuckled and hugged my mom.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He said.

“Well we got a full house of people who are dying to see you!”

The drive to my childhood home was almost the same as torture. Everyone was bombarding Ryan with questions and, bless his heart, he answered them all in stride. Arriving at my moms house, Ryan and I were again attacked by more family. After the over all introductions, Ryan and I were sitting on the couch in the family room with everyone else, my legs across his lap and his thumb drawing shapes on my knee.

“So, when did you and Ryan happen?” My sister asked. All attention turned to Ryan and I.

“Uh-“ I started. “I asked Y/N out a couple months ago. We’ve been friends forever and I just decided to go for it.” Ryan took over. Everyone seemed to buy it. I smiled and nodded.

“Well you’re certainly adorable! I can’t wait for grand babies!” My mother clapped.

“Oh my god mom! That’s not even on the table!” I exclaimed. Ryan laughed beside me. He honestly has the best laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Y/n. Cmon, it’s late. Let’s get you to bed.” Ryan said to me after he had to shake me awake.

We were still in the living room, tv playing a Christmas movie and the tree was lit up. No one else was down here though. I removed my legs from where they were still on his lap and rubbed my eyes. The clock next to the tv said it was after midnight. Ryan stood up and grabbed the remote turning everything off, I followed behind his half asleep.

“Lead the way,” Ryan motioned for me to walk up the stairs first. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall down the stairs, zombie.”

My room was the last door down the hall as soon as you got to the stairs, as soon as we got outside I stopped.

“Look, I don’t really remember how I left this room when I moved to Pennsylvania, so don’t make fun of me for the rest of my life if there’s anything embarrassing I here.” I warned Ryan. He smiled sweetly at me

“Sweetheart, I’m going to make fun of you for the rest of your life no matter what.” My face fell as I turned and opened the door.

I honestly didn’t remember how I left it. As I looked around I was instantly transported to high school. I left home at 18 and haven’t been home in four years. All my band posters were still up on the wall and pictures of old friends still taped to my mirror. I was almost overwhelmed by the emotion that came over me. I turned and saw Ryan looking around as well, he seemed to be focused on something specific though.

“You were a fan before we met?” Ryan asked. I walked over to were he was at and saw a small tour poster from them Motionless in White first started out. Oh.

“Uh yeah, I saw a few shows when you guys were in town a long time ago.” I said awkwardly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He looked down at me. It was then that I realized how close we were standing. I moved to sit on my bed, taking my hair down from the bun I had it in.

“Because it’d be weird. After I met Bryce and Jaime and then became friends with you guys and the crew I didn’t want to be that weird fan that became a friend.” I shrugged. He nodded.

“Well, I’m glad I have something to tell the guys when we go back home.” I rolled my eyes and got the bed ready.

Ryan moved around the other side and looked between the bed and the floor.

“I can sleep on the floor if you’d like?” He offered.

“Don’t worry about it just get in bed and sleep. I’m exhausted.” I yawned and laid down in bed.

“Okay.”

We laid in silence for a few minutes before I rolled over and spoke.

“Thank you for helping me. I feel bad for lying to my family though.” He rolled over and faced me.

“Hey, it’ll all be fine. I promise I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.” He made me laugh.

“Well if it’s any consolation, so far you’re better than actual boyfriends I’ve had.”

“Good night.” He chuckled.

“Night.” I said rolling over to my other side.

~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up the next morning to an empty bed. There was noise downstairs which led be to believe Ryan was probably part of that. I groaned and rubbed my eyes as I sat up and slowly got out of bed. When I got downstairs the smell of pancakes and bacon filled my nose. In the kitchen, my mom was making coffee for everyone and Ryan was making bacon while my dad was flipping pancakes. Without thinking, I walked over to Ryan at the stove.

“Morning sunshine!” Ryan said leaning down and kissing the top of my head.

“Morning,” I mumbled. “Smells good.”

“Good morning sweetheart!” My mom said cheerfully. “How’d you two sleep?” She asked.

“Uh, fine?” I said confused. She smirked at me a little. Did my mom think Ryan and I had sex in my childhood bedroom? Gross! Well, not gross because just look at him but still, no! But then again my mom doesn’t know we’re not actually together so... moving on.

“So are you guys not big on PDA?” My sister asked as I sat down next to Ryan at the table.

“What do you mean?” I asked grabbing a piece of toast from the plate.

“Well, none of us have seen you kiss, or do anything remotely couply the whole time you’ve been here.” She was starting to get suspicious.

“Um,” I looked at Ryan asking him to save me and instead of saying anything he leaned in and kissed my cheek, like half a millimeter away from my lips. That’s the first time we’ve ever kissed.

“I just didn’t want to be disrespectful in your mothers home.” Ryan came back. I smiled and tried to hide my shock from everyone around the table.

“Well that’s very sweet Ryan, but it’s the holidays and that means mistletoe!” My mom squealed before dangling the plant above Ryan and I’s heads.

I froze in my place making eye contact with the hazel eyes in front of me. The look Ryan gave me was almost asking for permission, I gave him a silent okay before I saw him lean in slowly. Holy shit this is happening. I braced myself, closing my eyes as I felt his lips brush mine. I closed the gap, feeling Ryan’s hand rest on my cheek. I don’t know how long the kiss lasted. All I know is I heard my sister clear her throat and Ryan and pulled away. I made brief eye contact with everyone at the table, my face turning bright red.

Well, that was awkward. Looking at Ryan out of the corner of my eye, I saw him blushing as well and avoiding looking at my mom. Thank god my dad wasn’t here right now.

“Well, you two certainly like each other.” My mom smirked taking a bite of her breakfast.

“Excuse me.” I saw pushing away from the table and leaving the dining room. I ran back up the stairs to my room and decided to get dressed.

“Y/n are you-.” I was only in jeans and a bra when Ryan opened the door. I jumped and grabbed my sweater, quickly putting it on. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I didn’t.” Ryan stuttered.

“It’s fine. What’s up?” I asked slightly irritated that he followed me.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. That kiss wasn’t too much was it?” He asked, concerned.

It wasn’t enough.

“Um, no not too much. They bought it.” I forced a chuckle.

“Yeah they definitely bought it.” He scratched the back of his head.

God, I wanna do it again.

“Ya know, we should maybe practice for next time. Maybe it won’t seem so awkward.” He suggested. I froze.

What?

“What?”

“Yeah, why not? Ya know.” Silence.

“Uh, practicing might help.” I said, playing with the hem of my sweater.

Ryan smiled and walked closer to me; making me look up at him because of the height difference. His hands found home on my waist as they squeezed my hips pulling me against his body. My eyes were closed before I even felt his lips on mine, but as soon as we connected, it was like we needed each other’s lips to survive. His tongue glided along my lower lip until I granted him entrance, he dominated the kiss quite easily. My hand found themselves threading into his longer that usual hair and tugging slightly. He walked me backwards until my knees hit the bed and slowly lowered me onto my back. Was I going to let him take it this far? I might honestly. Just as I was about to wrap my legs around his waist and pull his hips flush to mine, a knock at my door startled us.

“Y/n, Ryan, we’re heading out to the square to watch the Christmas parade. Mom wants you to join!” My sister yelled.

I looked at Ryan, biting my lip. “Okay! We’ll be there in a second.” I yelled back.

“Damn it.” Ryan huffed, resting his head on my shoulder. I pat the top of his telling him to get up.

I walked over to my mirror to readjust my self before turning to Ryan.

“Ready?” He asked. I nodded, following him downstairs.

God, I’m so screwed.

#miw imagines #ryan sitkowski fic #ryan sitkowski x reader #ryan sitkowski #motionless in white imagines #motionless in white #ryan sitkowski imagine

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