#es fanfic

[marmolady]

Grandchildren: Beatriz

Summary: Endless Ending timeline. Middle-aged Taylor and Estela are entering a new phase of their life together, welcoming their grandchildren into the family. In four parts; this is PART THREE.

Word Count: 3496

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading!

__________________________

2060

Taylor placed down a plate of cookies on the coffee table, and sat alongside her heavily pregnant daughter.

“I know it sucks for you to not be able to fix everything,” Liv said, looking up to her mother with a grateful smile, “but don’t think your tending to my cravings isn’t appreciated.”

Liv was some seven months along, her belly huge and rounded. Heavy bags under her eyes gave away her lack of sleep, the worrying that had kept her awake long into the night. Her unborn baby, a daughter, had long passed the danger period where a miscarriage was a high risk, but she would not truly relax before the infant was in her arms. After all, the last time… the baby had been four months along, she should have been okay…. Most days Liv felt she was barely functioning, even with all the support her family, and Jeimy, could offer.

“I’ve felt so awful,” Liv admitted. “I let the blonde fade out… I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean--?” Then Taylor realised. The blonde streak Liv had always dyed into her hair… making the point of having at least a bit of her look like the mom she had no biological link to. “God, Livi, you don’t have to keep doing your hair a certain way to prove our relationship to me!”

Liv winced. “See, I know that logically, but it’s not about logic, it’s about feeling. It’s been since I was so little, it feels like I’m throwing something away… something important.” She sniffed and looked away, lost in a dark place. Was there anyone she didn’t feel she’d let down?

“You’re carrying a lot, sweetheart. Let that one go.” She tenderly stroked her daughter’s short hair. “If it makes you happy, keep in the blonde, but do it for you, not out of any fear of hurting me. I’m secure in myself, and in my role as your mom… so take that load off, all right?”

“I’m just… finding it hard. Harder than I expected, which is stupid, I should’ve known I wasn’t ready for this….”

Taylor kept stroking her fingers through Liv’s hair. There was nothing she could say that would take away the fear, or the grief that still lingered.

“Some people believe,” she said quietly, “that the soul doesn’t fully attach itself to the body until the moment of birth. If the baby’s born sleeping, the soul waits for another little life. I don’t know if it might help… to imagine a piece of Avis might be with you and Beatriz now.”

Liv’s eyes grew wide and watery. “I want her with us,” she whispered. “More than anything.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I feel… I feel guilty sometimes even just for being excited about Bea coming. And I feel guilty that I’ve got this far carrying Bea when Jeimy had to go through that loss….”

“Sweetheart,” Taylor said, clutching her daughter’s hand. “You both went through it. It’s different, but your grief is real. Jeimy loves you, and they love Bea.”

Liv wept and snuggled into her mom’s shoulder, taking comfort there until her tears slowed.

“Mom… there’s something else. I need to check you’re okay with something….”

“I’m listening.”

“Well,” Liv wiped her face, righting herself a little, so she could look her mother in the face and read her. “We’d really like to use ‘Estela’ as Bea’s middle name.”

“Beatriz Estela Montoya? That’s pretty. That’s really pretty, swetheart. You were worried I’d be hurt?”

“I know we named Andi after you, but ‘Andromeda’ isn’t your actual name….”

Taylor laughed, and kissed Liv’s head. “Is this to get out of naming a dog ‘Draco’? You silly goose, didn’t I just tell you I’m secure in what we’ve got? Bea’s name is beautiful.”

Liv breathed a little sigh of relief. “Thanks-- we really like it.”

“She’s going to be really touched.” Taylor stroked the side of Liv’s face, adoring her. She could be a worrywart, her girl, but with what life had thrown at her in recent years, Taylor couldn’t blame her. Through it all, Liv was strong and kind, giving more of herself than she probably should, but somehow retaining her joie-de-vivre, her sparkle, dulled though it was on the darkest of days. “I love you, Livi,” she said. “I love you so much.”

And she hugged her, willing herself to somehow lend strength and courage where her daughter needed it-- if only it were that simple.

“It’s going to be okay.”

_________________________

It was pointless to keep checking her phone-- the message and ring tones had been set to blaringly loud so nothing could possibly be missed-- but that didn’t stop Taylor.

“Who you talking to, Grandma?” Andi asked, peering over Taylor’s shoulder.

Taylor hastily put it beside her on the floor. “No one, no one! Promise.”

Young Sol belly-crawled along the rug towards his grandma, then put himself in her lap.

“Hey, kiddo-- don’t worry, you’ve got my attention.”

“How many hours does it take for a baby to be born? They’ve been at the hospital all day!”

“Well, it depends. Sometimes, a baby will be in a big hurry to get out and it can happen in a couple of hours. Sometimes… it could even be a couple of days.”

“Days!” the two kids said in unison. It always tickled both Taylor and Estela that the two had an almost twin-like connection, their births only two days apart and inseparable since. Andi had often said ‘we basically are twins’ and no one could convince her otherwise.

How would another child fit into this dynamic? From the early days, Andi had been fascinated by her unborn sibling, talking about her constantly, while Sol barely seemed to register that a mammoth change was afoot. Until now, with his mom and nanay in the hospital, and not coming back until they had a baby to bring home.

“But,” Taylor added quickly, “last time your mom had a baby it was only five hours after she got to the hospital that Andi was born, and usually it’s faster once the mom’s already had a baby.”

“So, baby Bea could be being born right now?” Andi asked, reaching for her grandma’s phone. “And then they’ll ring and tell us?”

“She could be. And yes, they will. We’re just going to have to be patient.”

Andi huffed out a frustrated exhale. “Being patient is so hard! I wish we knew what was happening.”

“I know, mija,” Estela said as she came into the room with a plate of cocadas-- just how her mom used to make them. “Trust me, we’re all going a little crazy waiting for news. It’s just something we’ve gotta deal with.”

A tasty treat easily placated the easy-going Sol, who hummed to himself as he chewed, still sat in Taylor’s lap. Andi, though, wolfed hers down in what felt like seconds, and went straight back to asking after her mom and nanay. It was a challenge and a half, Taylor had to admit, to entertain two five-year-olds when one was completely incapable of thinking about anything other than the imminent arrival themselves.

Estela gave her wife a look. An understanding, ‘it’s driving me crazy too’ look. An ‘I’m with you’ look.

“Solito,” Estela said, determined to be distracted from worrying, and to have the kids distracted from worrying, “go and grab some paper and pens-- we can make some ‘welcome home’ posters for baby Bea-- good practice for your writing.”

Sol jumped up immediately, almost clocking his grandma in the chin as he got to his feet as was his enthusiasm. Reading and writing was a new skill, and one he was mighty proud of. He ran off, and as was typical, Andi was not far behind him.

It was hard not to be brought back to the kids’ mom learning to read and write. Liv had started a bit earlier, keen as she’d been to keep up with the older Reggie-- with whom she was inseperable. Liv would forever play with her alphabet fridge magnets; she took them with her from La Huerta, to San Trobida, to the States. Estela didn’t have any regrets about that rather fast-changing period in her daughter’s life… they’d given what stability they could, but it had never been possible to have a single true ‘home’. For these kids, though, home was San Trobida, a vastly different place to that the young Liv had known, and for Estela, it was barely recognisable as the war-torn country she grew up in. For baby Beatriz as well, the civil war and the horrors that came with it would just be a story told by her abuela, and a history lesson as she went through her schooling, as distant and irrelevent as the 2020 pandemic and dial-up internet.

Good for her.

Then Estela perched herself on the edge of the couch, only half-relaxing, for she could need to spring to action at a moment’s notice.

As if it had been waiting for the kids to leave the room, Estela’s phone rang, and she was up on her feet in an instant.

“Jeimy?” she asked too loudly. You’re gonna have to calm down…. She put the phone on speaker, though Taylor was right up by her ear so it probably wasn’t even necessary.

“She’s here-- they’re both doing great!” Jeimy cried down the phone, almost garbled in their excitement.

“The baby’s here? The baby--” Of course, the baby. Estela just laughed as relief and flooded her body. “Congratulations, Lorito,” she managed to get out. “Oh my god….”

“Pretty much what I said!” Jeimy laughed, ecstatic. “Beatriz is here, and she’s just divine.”

“Oh, Jeimy,” Taylor said, “you know it’s torture I can’t send you a hug down the phone, right?”

But even with the distance she could feel the happiness that radiated forth, and knew the same would be received. Then, the inevitable happened, and Taylor had to contend with tears streaming down her face. Her baby’s baby was here-- there was no way she wasn’t crying.

“H-how was it? Quicker than last time at least.”

“Everything went smoothly; I almost can’t believe it. It’s like… it’s like all the tension’s gone now… the scariest part is over. Liv’s feeling a bit wrecked for talking right now, but she’s happy. So, so happy.”

“Can we… can we tell the kids?”

Jeimy laughed, giddy. “Yeah, go ahead! We’ll get you to bring them down to the hospital soon-- we can’t wait to see them, just want to make sure Livi rests a little first.”

“Just… enjoy the peace and quiet with your little baby, okay?”

“And kisses for everyone from us, all right, mijo?”

“I’ll see to it-- I’ll see to it. You’ll give the kids a big squeeze from us as well! Love you-- love you-- bye!”

Estela hung up the phone and squealed, pulling a laughing Taylor into her arms for the tightest of hugs.

“We’ve got another granddaughter!” Taylor wept.

________________________

Liv’s eyelids were heavy as she watched the babe’s chest rise and fall. Their little Beatriz had made it earthside. There was no doubt in Liv’s mind; there would be no more babies for her and Jeimy. She couldn’t handle the rollercoaster. It would be her, and Jeimy, and Andi and Sol, and Beatriz… and that was all she’d ever need.

Safe and swaddled in her crib, an arm’s reach away from her exhausted mother, Beatriz had drifted off easily. Even bruised and swollen from the delivery, there was so much character in her little face.

“She looks like Sol did,” Liv whispered. “Not quite as much hair.”

At Liv’s other side, Jeimy was serene, sat up against their pillow. “I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for nine months,” they admitted. “It’s nice to breathe again.”

“I know the feeling,” Liv said. “At this point I’ll welcome the sleepless nights with open arms-- I’m just so relieved to have her here.”

Jeimy scooched closer and stroked Liv’s face. “How are you feeling? Physically, I mean.”

Liv looked up at them with a loving smile. “Very sore, very tired.”

Worth it, she thought, and she turned back to once again admire the little life she’d brought into the world. Oh my god, you are worth it.

____________________________

“Surely, no parent of a newborn in history has ever thought ‘oh, let’s have a party-- I could use some further disruption of my sleep patterns!” Aleister proclaimed. “And yet,” he added, “here we are.”

“I think ‘party’ is a strong word,” Taylor said. “Just a little get-together; good company, barbecue, and some fruit punch.”

Jeimy came over and hugged their uncle-in-law, welcoming him into the backyard, set up with lights and tables. “We’re not completely crazy; doing this at home means Liv and I can bolt upstairs with the baby and hide away at the drop of a hat. And if anyone was gonna disturb us, Mama ‘Stel would sort them out. Besides-- we’re not entertaining or anything, hence having everyone bring a plate and do their own dishes. Surrounding ourselves with love, but with as little of the hassle as possible.”

Aleister chuckled. “I can’t say I don’t still think you’re quite mad but… I see some of the appeal.”

Jeimy met his eye. “It means a lot Reggie coming home for us. I can’t say how much Liv’s missed him.”

“However all-singing-and-dancing the technology may get, it’s never the same as in person, is it? I hope it does Liv good,” he said sincerely. Aleister had been close to Liv all her life, for she and his own child Reggie had been something of a dynamic duo since before either could remember. She was his niece and he loved her, and through her mental health struggles he’d wished he could do more. It had been easier to be there for Estela, knowing that his support had helped her to be there for Liv. Reggie, he knew, was the healing balm that old Uncle Al could never be.

Thankfully, in the minds of the two parents of the new baby, the gathering had been able to be kept small and quiet-- certainly by the standards set by their ever-growing extended family. Naturally, Estela and Taylor were there, and Rosa with toddler Leo. Diego had made the trip from La Huerta a week prior, an additional support for Liv and Jeimy. Sean and Jake’s son Michael, proud donor uncle to baby Beatriz, as well as Liv’s older two children and Rosa’s unborn baby, was along for the fun; he’d taken up position as Chief of Fun and was keeping Andi and Sol out from their exhausted parents’ feet. His fiance and Michelle and Quinn’s youngest, Conor, was there to offer him assistance with the kids. Reggie was the guest of honour, the reason this whole thing was even happening-- and his sisters with their respective families, and Aleister and Grace rounded out the guestlist.

The back door swung open.

“Here she is!” Liv cried, stepping out with, cradled in her arms, a tiny bundle of baby in a puffy floral dress and a great big bow.

Michael turned to Jeimy and laughed. “What happened to the ‘gender neutral’ thing you were doing?”

“Hey. Flowers are for any and all genders.” Jeimy rolled their eyes teasingly. “Anyway, we gave up with the unisex name-- Spanish names are so damn gendered-- so thought ‘screw it, just put her in dresses if we like them’.”

“She looks cute,” Michael said, “but she’s gonna have to grow into that bow.” He held out his arms. “Cuddle with Uncle Michael?”

Liv chuckled, and carefully passed over the baby. As little Beatriz was placed in his arms, Michael absolutely beamed. There was no doubt he’d be as besotted over this kid as he was Andi and Sol.

“Damn, she’s cute!” he exclaimed. “You people are making me want a baby so bad. I’m pretty lucky to be a ‘donor uncle’ in the meantime, hey?”

“And we really appreciate it,” Liv was quick to say. Michael had basically given her the family she loved so much, and there were simply no words for what that meant. What was more, he’d given Liv’s Mama Taylor a genetic tie to her grandchildren-- a sort of link she’d once only dreamed of. Their family was unconventional, but in Liv’s eyes, it was all the more wonderful for what had been overcome to bring them to this moment, together. “It’s gonna be a pretty good excuse to get out to La Huerta regularly once Rosa’s bub’s here. We may have to tag along now and then-- I’m not having you usurp my position as ‘coolest visiting relative’.”

“I hate to break it to you, Liv,” Michael said, shaking his head in feigned sorrow, “but Jeimy sings, plays guitar, and has a talking parrot. You’ve never had the top spot to begin with.”

“Dude-- I can take my baby back---”

“Geez, touchy much! At least I know when I’m beat.”

“Just enjoy that cuddle, I’m pretty sure madam’s gonna be in high demand this evening.”

Content that her baby was in good hands, Liv felt comfortable enough to move a few feet away to check up on her older two. They’d blown her away with how they’d taken the new arrival in their stride; Sol was easy-going as usual, but Andi she’d been more concerned about, demanding as she was for fun and attention that simply was not in as high supply these days. But Andi doted on her baby sister, and was forever clamouring to be involved and help out. Now, the twosome had apparently roped Uncle Conor into a game of horsey-ride, with Andi was putting her newfound maternal side to use in steadying two-year-old Leonel with her hand as he had his turn, and Sol ripping up handfuls of grass to feed their new ‘pet’. Liv took an exhale and relaxed. Her little family was surrounded by love.

Then she turned, and there was the face she’d been desperately yearning to see.

“Reggie!”

“I told you, I’d be here, I’m not sure what all the fuss is abo--”

Liv flung her arms around her cousin, her best friend, and squeezed him with all her might.

“Steady on! You always have to be over-the-top about everything, don’t you,” he grumbled good-naturedly, but he kissed her the top of her head as she cried against his chest. He hugged her back, and gave a trembling exhale. “Now that I have you in person; congratulations.”

Liv came away to rub her teary eyes with the back of a hand. “I knew you were coming and everything, ‘m just a bit hormonal for this!”

She put her hands on her hips and took a few deep breaths, righting herself, then looked up at Reggie with a massive grin. He’d been with her through it all… both their spouses had been pregnant at the time, but she and Jeimy had lost their Avis, while Reggie and Mariama had brought home their healthy and bright Olivette-- named in tribute to their bond. Even struggling with parenting a newborn as well as his other two kids, Reggie had always found time for his old cousin, and it was a rare week that would pass without a call between London and San Trobida.

“How have you been?” he asked, “And don’t give me sass because I know childbirth can be godawful….”

“You really think I’d sass you?”

“Sure as bloody hell you would…. But are you doing all right? Other than obviously being touched in the head to have a blasted party of all things so soon after bringing a baby home. I just… I’d like to know you’re doing well.”

“We’re adjusting to the new normal,” she told him. “I’m adjusting… slowly but surely. And there’s grief that’s coming up, but I expected that. Mostly… I’m caught up in loving my baby girl, and so, so damn thankful that she’s here.” She grinned. It was as though she couldn’t think about her little Beatriz without doing so. “Do you wanna meet Bea? She’s having a cuddle with Uncle Michael right now.”

Reggie’s eyes lit up. “I did come all this way, I won’t not say ‘hi’. Actually, I may have promised Sammy and Ange that I send a few photographs-- it’s almost as though the need proof I’m actually here and taking meeting the new little cousin seriously.”

Liv laughed. “I’m sure we can manage that!” She took him by the elbow. “Come on-- you flew all the way from London, you get to skip the cuddle queue.”

And she took him to get acquainted with the baby, beaming as she walked him through a backyard filled with the smiling faces of the people she loved so much-- all there for her. Soon, they’d gather together, and raise a glass; to family, to good times, and to Beatriz Estela Montoya.

#endless summer #estela x mc #rosita montoya #es fanfic #montoya family #catalyst kiddos #playchoices

[gimmethatagustd]

ultra thin & extra sensitive | kth + jjk

It takes an impromptu trip to buy condoms for Jungkook to finally confess his feelings to Taehyung.

○ Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Friends with benefits, smut, fluff

○ 10 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Grocery Store)

○ Word Count: 4,557

○ Warnings: Dick jokes lol, Jungkook is so needy, relationship drama, "what are we?" painful moments, groping, anal fingering, protected anal sex, car sex

○ Notes: I hope you all enjoy this strange fic about condoms. I'm so behind on this drabble challenge, and I don't even wanna think about it 😅

○ Post Date: March 12, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? Bambi - BAEKHYUN

“I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t walk.”

Jungkook smirks as Taehyung whimpers and tosses back his pretty blonde head. Jungkook has him pressed to the wall with one of his legs hiked up and hooked over Jungkook’s hip, opening him up so Jungkook can grind their clothed cocks together.

They’re both hard, Taehyung in his straight-leg jeans and Jungkook in light gray sweatpants that leave little to the imagination. Not that Taehyung needs to imagine what Jungkook’s cock looks like; he’s seen Jungkook naked plenty of times in the few months they’ve been hooking up.

Although the foyer of Taehyung’s apartment is dark, the moon casts enough light through the windows to illuminate the men as they rut against each other. It’s Jungkook’s first time here, but he’s too preoccupied to look around.

Despite their familiarity with each other, Taehyung is still shy around Jungkook. He squeezes his eyes shut when Jungkook sucks hickeys against his throat as though he’s afraid to see how devoutly Jungkook wants to devour him, chin tilted to the ceiling, and pretty pink lips parted so more whimpers can slip from them. A blush spreads across Taehyung’s cheeks like spring tulips in bloom, and Jungkook wonders how he possibly got so lucky to have something so sweet.

Jungkook nips at the curve of Taehyung's ear, and Taehyung curls his long, pretty fingers around Jungkook’s shoulders to hold himself up. Taehyung’s innocence makes Jungkook want to bite into him even deeper.

“Taehyung,” Jungkook whispers hoarsely.

“Hmm…?”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

A breathy whine is Taehyung’s response, and even though it isn’t what Jungkook is looking for, he quietly laughs under his breath.

“You’re so fucking cute, you know that?”

“I’m not,” Taehyung protests with a gentle sigh. It isn’t true, but Jungkook leaves him be.

Jungkook lets go of Taehyung’s thigh to work on unbuttoning his jeans. Once they’re unzipped, he glides one of his hands inside Taehyung’s jeans to palm his ass over his briefs. Using his other hand, he loosens Taehyung’s fingers from his shoulder. He brings Taehyung’s hand to the back of his neck and slowly slides it upward until their intertwined fingers slip through Jungkook’s hair. Curling his fingers, he forces Taehyung to grip his hair and lets out a satisfied groan when Taehyung experimentally tugs on the dark strands.

“Anyone ever fucked you like this?” Jungkook asks in between hickeys sucked along Taehyung’s neck, leading up to the corner of his jaw. “Up against the wall?”

“No,” Taehyung sighs against Jungkook’s lips when he kisses him.

Taehyung’s answer doesn’t surprise Jungkook. Everything they’ve done has been pretty tame, mainly because Taehyung has little experience. Although Jungkook isn’t the type to get off on corruption, there’s no denying how his cock twitches when Taehyung trembles from his touch like it’s the first time he’s been held and kissed.

Jungkook sucks Taehyung’s bottom lip into his mouth and tugs gently, pulling back far enough for Taehyung to chase his mouth. When Taehyung pouts in frustration, Jungkook laughs.

“Stop teasing me.” Taehyung finally opens his eyes, and the blush on his cheeks deepens when he locks eyes with Jungkook.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be nice,” Jungkook promises with a shadow obscuring half his devilish expression.

Surging forward, Jungkook captures Taehyung’s lips again, shoving his tongue in his mouth to swirl it around Taehyung’s. Taehyung’s whimpering gets louder, and Jungkook groans into the kiss. He grinds their hips together even harder, spurred on by how vocal Taehyung is.

“Where are your condoms?” Jungkook asks in a breathy voice. He’s somewhat shocked by how worked up he is with just a bit of kissing and groping.

Their lips lightly brush against each other as they pant, chests heaving in tandem. Taehyung has to clear his throat before he can properly speak.

“What?”

“Your condoms?” It’s Jungkook’s turn to whine. He presses his forehead against Taehyung’s and tries to calm himself down. “You don’t get it, Tae, I need to fuck you so badly. I’ll get them for you. Are they in your bedroom?”

“I… I don’t have any condoms,” Taehyung admits meekly, turning his head to the side to force Jungkook to pull back. “I thought you had some. Y’know, in your wallet or something.”

“Fuck.” Jungkook tips his head back and lets out a drawn-out groan. “God fucking damn it, Taehyung. Why don’t you?”

“I don’t know! We always go over to your apartment; why would I need any here?”

If Jungkook wasn’t uncomfortably hard, he would find it sweet that Taehyung only associates needing condoms with being with Jungkook, meaning he clearly isn’t bringing home anyone else to fuck him. It makes Jungkook’s chest swell, knowing he’s the only one who gets to have Taehyung like this, all pink in the face and disheveled, pretty fingers tangled in his hair and cocks pressed together.

But Jungkook is uncomfortably hard and doesn’t have the patience for this.

“Let’s go.” He shoves his hand down his pants to adjust his cock. There doesn’t appear to be any precum stains on the front, but Jungkook is beyond caring.

“Go where?” Taehyung stumbles forward when Jungkook steps back and releases his grip from Taehyung’s waist.

“To the store to get condoms.”

“W-What? Right now?”

Jungkook looks up at Taehyung as he stomps his feet into his boots.

“Yes, Tae, right now.”

“But, we could just…”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows and stands with his arms against his chest, waiting.

“I could suck you off?”

“Taehyung,” Jungkook sighs and pulls him over to zip up his jeans for him, “I don’t want you to suck me off. I want to fuck you. So, please, put your shoes on so we can go to the store before I start crying.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but a small smile plays on his lips as he slips into his shoes. They’re all-white Converse with the backs smashed in from how many times he’s walked around without entirely putting them on. Nearly all of Taehyung’s shoes look like that. Jungkook finds it rather ridiculous, but it’s somehow also endearing. 

Much of what Taehyung does is endearing. For example, he lingers in the doorway with Jungkook’s car keys hooked around one of his fingers and his mini leather backpack slung over one shoulder, even though a box of condoms is small enough for Jungkook to carry in his hand. The flush on his face has lessened, and he runs his pretty fingers through his hair to flatten it down. Jungkook enjoys looking at him when he’s put together or ruined. 

Outside, the air is thick with humidity from a hot summer rain earlier in the day. This frizzes Taehyung’s hair and dampens Jungkook’s upper lip with perspiration. The weather does nothing to calm the heat building in Jungkook’s groin. 

Driving isn’t necessary when the closest 24-hour convenience store isn’t very far away, but Jungkook isn’t interested in getting sweatier than he already is from the short walk from Taehyung’s apartment complex to Jungkook’s parked car.

“Do you like me that much? That you’d go to the store in the middle of the night when it’s so gross outside just because you want to fuck me?” 

Taehyung looks at Jungkook curiously, his head slightly cocked to the side and his hands in his back pockets. 

Do you like me that much?

Their relationship is about more than just a good fuck, but Jungkook is afraid to say it, and Taehyung is afraid to directly ask. Instead, he skirts around the question, asking others that are parallel but never intersect the way they should if either man wants to be honest. 

Instead of answering, Jungkook grabs the strap of Taehyung’s backpack to yank him into a bruising kiss that hopefully tells him everything Jungkook wants to say but can’t.

When they finally reach Jungkook’s car, he holds the door open for Taehyung like a proper gentleman because Taehyung is sweet and soft and deserves the gentlest side of Jungkook, even if Jungkook likes being a little mean when they fuck. 

“AUX?” Taehyung asks, already twirling the cord between his fingers once Jungkook slides into the driver’s seat. When Jungkook gives him the okay, he chooses a playlist that Jungkook recognizes after two songs. 

“Y'know, I’ve got a Pavlovian response to our sex playlist,” Jungkook comments. He briefly looks at Taehyung before returning his eyes to the relatively empty road as he drives. 

“What happens to you?” Taehyung asks like he knows the answer already.

“My dick automatically gets hard.” 

“No, it doesn’t!” Taehyung brings his hand up his mouth when he laughs, his lips brushing against the back of it.  

“Yes, it does. Want to check if I’m lying?”

Taehyung scoffs, but it only takes a few seconds before he’s palming Jungkook’s thigh. He’s hesitant when he does it and slow once he slides his hand between Jungkook’s thighs to gently squeeze his hard cock. 

Taehyung’s next exhale is audibly shaky, and Jungkook grins but doesn’t look away from the road again. 

They’re silent the rest of the short drive, Jungkook thinking about Taehyung’s hand on his cock and Taehyung lost in thought while he watches the city lights through the window and nibbles his bottom lip. It’s cute how flustered Taehyung gets, even when he does it to himself. 

The embarrassment even follows Taehyung into the store. He tries to avoid standing in the aisle where condoms and other sex-related products are, but Jungkook insists that he helps choose which brand to get. 

“What kind do you like? These are the ones I get, but if you want something else, we can try it out,” Jungkook says with a tap of his finger on the box he usually buys – ultra-thin and extra sensitive because he likes feeling as much of Taehyung as he can. 

Taehyung skeptically eyes the boxes. He picks up one that boasts a pleasurable texture of ribs and dots on the outside of the condom. 

“Does it really make a difference?” 

Jungkook scrunches his nose and takes the box from Taehyung to return it to the shelf. 

“Everyone I’ve hooked up with has said textured condoms are too thick and don’t feel like anything, or they hurt.” 

Taehyung looks away quickly, but Jungkook notices how his expression falls into something sad, and he knows he’s fucked up. 

“Tae–” 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to bore you by doing the things you’ve already done with everyone else,” Taehyung says curtly. He reaches for a seemingly random box and turns on his heel. 

Groaning, Jungkook grabs a bottle of lube and his usual condom brand and follows Taehyung down the aisle. 

“Tae.” 

“Let’s just go.” 

Grabbing Taehyung’s forearm, Jungkook tries to turn him around to face him, but Taehyung yanks his arm out of Jungkooks hold. He watches Taehyung claim one of the self-checkout registers. The force with which Taehyung jabs the touchscreen to select his payment once he scans the lube and two condom boxes is concerning for his index finger, as is how violently he shoves the items into his mini backpack. 

“You should have let me pay for them,” Jungkook says quietly once he’s caught up with Taehyung, falling in line with him as they exit the store and walk toward the back of the parking lot. It’s late enough that only a handful of other cars are in the lot, most likely the employees’. 

“Why? Do you buy condoms for everyone else?” Taehyung snaps as he squeezes the car door’s handle. 

Frustrated with the sour turn their night has taken, Jungkook covers Taehyung’s hand on the handle with his own and crowds Taehyung against the side of the car. A ball of anxiety sinks to the pit of his stomach when Taehyung refuses to look him in the eyes, and Jungkook realizes he’s never considered what it would be like to no longer have Taehyung in his life. He has taken advantage of how dependable Taehyung is, knowing he’ll always be there when Jungkook needs him. 

Eventually, people grow tired. Jungkook can see that weariness and wariness in Taehyung’s eyes. 

“I bought condoms for everyone else,” Jungkook admits quietly. When Taehyung scoffs, he pushes on, “But I buy condoms for you.”

It’s a horrible way to tell a guy that he likes him, but Jungkook is the first to admit that he’s terrible at this shit. Swallowing a lump in his throat and rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants isn’t enough to calm himself down, but Taehyung’s glare hurts more than the anxious ache in his stomach. 

“There isn’t an everyone else, Tae,” Jungkook’s nearly pleading as he tilts his head to follow Taehyung’s gaze when Taehyung tries to look away. “It’s only you. I swear on my life, it’s just you.” 

“Really?” Taehyung’s eyes are narrowed, and skepticism taints his pretty features, but Jungkook sees the vulnerability hidden behind the hard exterior Taehyung is so accustomed to crafting. 

“Yes,” Jungkook breathes as he leans forward to kiss Taehyung’s forehead. “You can, I don’t know, go through my phone. Read my texts and look at my photos. See that I deleted Grindr. Whatever proof you need.” 

Taehyung is silent for a few seconds. Jungkook keeps his lips lightly pressed to his forehead and breathes in the comforting scent of his peppermint and eucalyptus shampoo. He clings to that and finds it grounding when Taehyung’s following words shake him to his core. 

“I went on a date with someone,” Taehyung whispers and Jungkook feels his chest constrict. He tries to breathe slowly and lets his grip on Taehyung’s waist slacken slightly. 

“How,” Jungkook pauses to clear his throat, “How did it go?” 

He feels Taehyung shrug, but he keeps staring out into the empty parking lot. 

“Pretty good. He was nice and really cute. We went to lunch and a new art exhibit and then hung out at his place.” Taehyung’s voice is steady as he talks, but there’s an implication behind admitting that he went to this other man’s home. 

Jungkook feels like he’s suffocating. 

“He wasn’t you, though,” Taehyung whispers as he leans back slightly to look Jungkook in the eyes. “He was nice, but we didn’t click, I guess. He wasn’t thoughtful like you are. His jokes weren’t as funny and his music taste was horrible. And… he didn’t touch me like you do.” 

Jungkook bites at his lip piercing and tries to ignore the thunderous sound of his blood rushing to his head. He can’t stop the images that flood his head of some mystery man his imagination conjures for him, touching Taehyung, kissing Taehyung, fucking Taehyung. 

That mystery man wouldn’t know that Taehyung can cum untouched but isn’t fully satisfied unless he cums again with external help. He wouldn’t know that he needs to hold Taehyung after because he gets emotional sometimes, especially after a hard fuck. He wouldn’t know that Taehyung worries about being enough and how important it is to affirm him during sex. 

“You don’t need to look for what you need in someone else,” Jungkook murmurs as he runs his hands up and down Taehyung’s sides. 

Taehyung leans in to whisper against the corner of Jungkook’s mouth, “I need you.” 

The kiss Jungkook pulls Taehyung into is frantic and rougher than how Jungkook usually kisses him. He buries one hand in Taehyung’s silky hair and grabs Taehyung’s hip with the other, pushing him against the car so he can mold his body to Taehyung’s. He wants to feel every inch of Taehyung’s body on his, to know that he has all of Taehyung, just him and no one else. 

Jungkook loves Taehyung. 

He has known it for a long time, but he stamps the truth so deeply inside himself that sometimes he convinces himself that he’s forgotten. But then, in moments like this, when Jungkook is flinging the car door open and crawling over Taehyung’s body as they climb into the backseat, Jungkook is forced to acknowledge the swell of love he feels when Taehyung stares up at him with such a tender expression. Taehyung’s face disappears momentarily, obscured by his t-shirt when he pulls it off and tosses it onto the floor. He slips his hands beneath Jungkook’s shirt and runs his palms up his toned abdomen, stopping when he reaches his pecs to flick his thumbs over his nipples.

“Take this off, please,” Taehyung asks sweetly, and Jungkook is a goner. 

The back of the car is cramped, and two grown men trying to maneuver on the narrow seat is more than what the space is made for. They make it work with Taehyung lying on his stomach, his jeans pulled down around his knees. He keeps his legs together so Jungkook can straddle his thighs, one of Jungkook’s legs slipping off the seat and forcing him to half-kneel, half-stand. It’s an awkward position, but Taehyung seems comfortable with their shirts balled up under his lower stomach to lift his hips and his crossed beneath his head, and that’s all Jungkook really cares about. 

“Taehyung,” Jungkook whines when he pulls out the random box of condoms from Taehyung’s backpack. “You bought the fucking fire and ice ones. These things will genuinely light my dick on fire.” 

Taehyung snorts and turns his head to the side to get a better look at Jungkook. 

“I don’t know. I just grabbed it because the colors on the box were pretty.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook tosses the box onto the floor and pulls out his preferred brand, tried and true. Setting it to the side, he opens the new bottle of lube and squirts some onto his fingers. 

Jungkook assumes the fit will be tight due to Taehyung’s position since his legs are pushed together, but Jungkook is patient. He holds Taehyung open with one hand and rubs his lubed-up fingers against his rim. 

Taehyung groans into the crook of his elbow and squirms from the cold lube, but he can’t move with Jungkook’s body weight on him. 

 “Stay still,” Jungkook murmurs with a light squeeze of Taehyung’s cheek. 

The satisfaction of getting a reaction out of Taehyung dissolves when Jungkook easily slips his finger past his rim. With a shaky breath, Jungkook pulls out and adds another finger without resistance. 

Taehyung never said when he went on the date, but he’s stretched enough that Jungkook massages his prostate with three fingers after only minimal stretching. He spends some time tapping and swirling his fingertips around his walls until Taehyung tries pushing against Jungkook’s fingers. 

“Jungkook, please,” Taehyung whimpers, and something snaps inside Jungkook. 

“Jagiya,” Jungkook rarely uses the pet name, but he knows it makes Taehyung quiver when he does. “Say my name again, jagi.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung moans when Jungkook speeds up his fingers. 

The sound of his palm smacking against Taehyung’s asscheek and the squelch of lube harmonizes with Taehyung’s breathy chant of Jungkook’s name. He leans forward until his chest is pressed against Taehyung’s back, and his teeth can graze against the curve of Taehyung’s ear. 

“You said he didn’t touch you like I do,” Jungkook repeats and lets out a slight hum when Taehyung nods. “Tell me what you like about how I touch you.” 

When Jungkook pulls away, he leaves kisses across Taehyung’s shoulders and down his spine. 

“You touch me like I’m special,” Taehyung says softly, his statement punctuated by a quiet whimper when Jungkook pulls his fingers out of him. 

“What else?” Jungkook asks before tearing a condom package with his teeth. 

“You’re gentle, and you actually care about how I feel. I can trust you,” Taehyung’s voice cracks when Jungkook spreads his cheeks to finally sink his cock into him in one slow but smooth thrust. 

Planting one hand on the seat beside Taehyung’s waist and grabbing Taehyung’s waist with the other to press him into the seat, Jungkook leans forward and grinds his pelvis against Taehyung’s ass. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts, “Am I too heavy on you?” 

Taehyung shakes his head and reaches down to adjust his cock so it rubs against the seat at a comfortable angle every time Jungkook thrusts into him.  

Despite being adequately stretched, the position makes Taehyung’s grip on Jungkook’s cock hot and tight. They’ve never fucked like this, with Jungkook straddling Taehyung’s thighs. Even though Jungkook can’t reach as deep as he likes to, the tight heat and softness of Taehyung’s ass, as well as the intimacy of having to hover over Taehyung, makes up for it. 

“Feels really good,” Taehyung says softly, his eyes scrunched shut. “You’re right there.” 

Jungkook knows what that means. He maintains the current angle of his hips when he thrusts into Taehyung again, the head of his cock hitting Taehyung’s prostate directly. 

“Yes, fuck, Jungkook, stay there.” 

Taehyung’s moans are pretty, so deep and airy that they seem to whisper a secret meant only for Jungkook. Jungkook should be the only one who gets to hear Taehyung like this. His heart yearns to call Taehyung his own, to be the person Taehyung can go to for support, to give him affection freely without feeling as though this is all just temporary. 

It’s why the sex is so good, Jungkook thinks as he picks up the pace, fucking Taehyung just the way he likes it. The pace is hard and fast because Jungkook needs this. He needs to be as close to Taehyung as he possibly can and needs to mold himself until they become one, two halves making a whole. He needs to hear Taehyung moan his name when he’s on the verge of tears because Jungkook fucks into him relentlessly and latches his lips to every inch of bare skin to leave his mark so Jungkook can’t look at Taehyung without remembering that he yearns. 

“Can you cum like this?” Jungkook leans down to murmur in Taehyung’s ear, drawing a string of expletives out of Taehyung that are moaned so quietly that Jungkook can hardly make them out. 

“Y-Yeah, yeah.” 

“Gonna cum on my cock, jagiya? Let me feel how good I am to you?” 

Dirty talk embarrasses Taehyung, but Jungkook knows it turns him on anyway. 

“I will, I will.” 

Taehyung lifts his chin so Jungkook can kiss him. It’s sideways, and Taehyung keeps rocking up and down across the seat from each smack of Jungkook’s body against his, but it feels good to taste Taehyung while he’s inside of him. 

Another thing Jungkook knows about Taehyung is that he likes to stretch out. It’s like he builds up tension inside of him, then curls into himself when he cums. It reminds Jungkook of a cat stretching after a long nap. Taehyung doesn’t have much room to do that in Jungkook’s car, but he reaches his arms above his head to grab the edge of the seat and hold himself in place as Jungkook fucks him. 

Intertwining their fingers, Jungkook brings one of Taehyung’s arms behind him, bending it at the elbow so his hand rests at the small of his back. Jungkook keeps holding his hand, even when Taehyung starts squeezing it and digging his nails into his skin hard enough to hurt. 

“Jungkook,” Taehyung gasps with one particularly hard thrust. “A little faster, please. I’m close.” 

“God, you’re so cute, I love you so fucking much.” 

The confession is so natural that it slips out without Jungkook even realizing it. The reality doesn’t sink in until he hears Taehyung moan, this time with a higher pitch and whinier, a sound Jungkook has never heard from him before. It sounds broken and desperate. 

Surprisingly, Jungkook doesn’t feel the anxiety he thought he would when he considered eventually confessing. Perhaps because it is natural, something that should have happened so long ago. 

Jungkook gives Taehyung what he wants, making sure not to hold him down too hard so he can move his hips to meet Jungkook’s thrusts, further stimulating his cock trapped between his body at the seat. It doesn’t matter that Jungkook’s seats are black. When Taehyung cums with a wet, sputtering sob as tears stream down his cheeks, Jungkook knows nothing matters except him making Taehyung feel good. 

Pulling out, Jungkook rips the condom off and sits back on Taehyung’s thighs as he pumps his cock. His orgasm hits him so hard that he’s silent, only uttering a small groan when the last of his cum spurts on Taehyung’s ass.

“Shit,” Jungkook sighs, throwing his head back and taking a deep breath. 

The car windows are so foggy that condensation drips down them, creating streaks that expose the city's lights around them. The air inside the car is muggy, smelling of sweat and cum. Jungkook may be weird, but he likes the smell of sex when it’s with Taehyung. Maybe he’s that pathetically whipped for Taehyung. If he is, he doesn’t care.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung calls hoarsely, lifting up the top half of his body so he’s resting on his elbows. “Can you clean me up?” 

He’s shy when he asks, and Jungkook wonders if he’ll grow out of it. It wouldn’t matter to him, though. Jungkook loves Taehyung regardless of if he’s afraid to say cum or not.

In the front console is a disorganized stack of napkins Jungkook has collected from eating fast food far too many times. He grabs a handful of them to clean Taehyung up and is acutely aware of Taehyung watching his every move. It’s nerve-wracking because Jungkook knows what Taehyung is thinking about and thinks he knows what Taehyung will say. It will be exactly what Jungkook hopes for, yet he’s still scared. 

The two men watch each other get dressed and exchange shy smiles when Jungkook smacks his head on the ceiling, and Taehyung accidentally crushes the box of fire and ice condoms. Jungkook feels like a teenager sneaking out of the house to hook up with his high school sweetheart, parked somewhere they shouldn’t be. He can’t believe he’s well into his twenties and just had sex in a grocery store parking lot. 

“Do you only love me during sex? Or all the time?” Taehyung finally asks once he and the seat have been cleaned up as best as Jungkook can, and they both are fully clothed. 

“All the time,” Jungkook confesses with Taehyung sitting in his lap, straddling his thighs and draping his arms over his shoulders. 

“Did you say it because of my date?” 

Jungkook runs his hands along Taehyung’s sides and takes his time to think about the question. It’s a valid one, but Jungkook doesn’t like the implications. 

“I loved you before the date.” It’s an easy answer to give. 

Taehyung runs his pretty fingers through Jungkook’s hair and kisses his forehead. 

“I went on the date because I love you, and I thought you wouldn’t want to commit to being with me,” Taehyung presses his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck and breathes him in, sweaty skin and all. “I fucked myself over, though. I left the date loving you more.” 

Jungkook never planned for Taehyung to enter his life and completely turn it upside down, but as he holds the back of Taehyung’s head and wraps his arm around his waist to keep him against his chest, Jungkook’s thankful for the part of him that gave him permission to love.

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Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

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[cassmonkeyphase]

A silly challenge from twitter I think

#my art lol #2doc #2doc fanart #2D #2-D #Murdoc #Gorillaz #2d fanart #murdoc fanart #I really need to learn anatomy and pespective uu #AAAAHH I'm seeing so many mistakes righ now JASJDSJDKSAK #Este dibujo es solo una excusa para dibujar a 2D con esa sonrisa de Dirty Harry #Aunque no lo crean la parte más difícil fue dibujar a murdoc jjasdjasjd. #Parecía que estaba mirando directo al frente cuando se suponía que viera a la imagen de 2d #Necesito encontrar más fanfics o teorías de su experiencia dentro de la ballena y México. #El mini libro ese no me bastaaaaaa!!!!

[enstarriedownbad]

Izumi Sena x F!reader

‼️Minors DNI

Genre: smut

Tags: dom! Izumi, reverse yandere, jealous (of you), hate-intercourse, unrequited love (you love him), misunderstanding, rough, mixed feelings

Plot: You’ve been hanging around Izumi’s favorite people for too long. He wants to show you that they only belong to him. For all he knows, it’s him that you love.

Words: 3,059

By clicking on "show more," you acknowledge that you are 18+ and consent to read this fiction.

First, it was Makoto, and now Leo. You have been hanging out with them from time to time recently. At ES, during work, in town… What you may or may not know is that these two are dear to a certain man. To him, your discussions always look fun from afar, fun enough to keep them distracted for a while. The time spent with you exceeds what he, Izumi, thinks is appropriate. Plus, after chatting with you, these two men always mention you to him. That's it, he's jealous.

He's known them for way longer than you, but now all they ever talk about in his presence is you? You would sometimes hang out with them at the same time as him. However, the few times you two interacted alone, you acted differently in front of him than when you were with his friends. To him, it is as if you are seducing them for your own goals, as if you are trying to take them away from him.

One evening, both you and Izumi are held back at ES for various reasons. On your way to leave work, he happens to spot you and takes the liberty to join you.

"Good evening, Y/N," he greets you.

"Oh- Good evening Izumi-san…" you reply quietly.

There we go. The "-san" honorifics followed by a distant tone. He noticed that when you call out for Makoto, or when you chat with Leo via text, you only use their names. So why were you acting so familiar with them? The answer is very simple: you are in love with Izumi. His friends noticed, and gladly give you some advice every now and then because who, other than his 'little brother' and best friend, could help you out on this? That's why they mention you to him: they ship you together.

However, it goes without saying that he doesn't know. He is too busy focusing on potential threats because of obsessive tendencies.

"You know, you can drop the '-san' with me too," he tells you while opening the exit door for you.

"Really? Okay, 'Izumi'," you reply while walking out the front door as you feel your cheeks getting redder.

You try to hide your face so that he doesn't see the blush mess that you are right now. To your dismay, Izumi interprets this as a passive-aggressive sign. He is now certain that you are acting differently around them. He wants to have a word with you.

"Are you going home?" he asks.

"Yes, why?" you reply.

"Hm… Do you want to go somewhere before heading home?"

"Sure… But where?"

He wants to get you to a quiet place, where he won't be bothered by random people. But he doesn't want another 'kidnapping' scandal to happen, so it won't be at his place. It is night right now, so most stores are closed… A karaoke? No, too noisy. Cafés? Too crowded. A hotel? Sounds like a good plan. Then, hotel it is.

Wait… To a hotel? He suddenly has an idea to make you back off from them.

You, on the other hand, can feel your heart pounding against your chest. Izumi is asking you on a date, right? You always lose your mind when you are around him. After all, your little crush on him turned into something bigger recently.

"Can we go to the hotel? I have something I'd like to tell you in private," he replies with a cold tone that you don't even notice.

"Sure, lead the way," you reply happily, eager to hear what he has to tell you.

Once you get to the hotel room, Izumi closes the door behind you.

"So what is it that you wanted to talk about, Izum–"

"I heard you had a crush."

"Huh?!"

'There is no way he knows that I like him!' you start thinking, embarrassed. And you are right. In fact, Izumi still doesn't know. He believes you're into either Leo or Makoto and acts according to it.

"I know you've been trying to get with a certain someone?" he says while getting closer to you. "You know I'm the one who's the most worthy, right?" he adds, trying to show you that he's the better option even though you don't even like either of them.

If only he knew that you liked him, he could have anticipated the fact that you just interpreted all of his sentences in a completely different way.

He gets closer and closer to you. As you slowly back up from Izumi aggressively walking up to you, you realize too late that the bed is right behind you. You trip and fall on top of it.

"I'm not gonna repeat, so listen. If it's just a one-night stand that you're looking for, I can do it. So look no more around you," he adds while staring at you with a cold glare from upward, trying to push you to accept.

What you don't know is that his plan isn't only to make you go to someone other than Leo or Makoto for sex. His goal is also to make you feel 'tainted' so that these two would never want to be with you after this night. He wants to ruin you.

But you love him and don't understand why he's acting like this all of a sudden. You believe he thinks you are an easy girl and wants to try something with you tonight after what his friends told him about you. It's the only rational reasoning that pops up in your mind. Or maybe the way he worded it could be a sign of jealousy towards the other men you talk to? After all, who could have guessed his real plan. Nonetheless, you still have some self-respect and decide to draw some boundaries. You are not to be considered some kind of easy girl.

"Izumi! That's not what I–"

You hear the sound of metal tickling. You lower your eyes. He's removing his belt. Looks like he's serious about this.

You remain frozen, not in fear, but because of something else. Your crush is really asking you to have intercourse in a hotel room he just rented? Although he's saying nonsense after nonsense, this is more than what you could ever dream of.

"Careful. If you stay here and remain idle like this, I'm gonna assume that this is a 'yes' on your part."

You stay silent. Of course that you want it.

He sighs. After all, in his perspective, you just accepted to sleep with a random guy even though you pretend to love his dear ones.

"You just have to say 'yes'. Or is it that your pride won't let you say it?" he replies aggressively.

"… Y-yes" you give in, still slightly confused about his tone.

Suddenly, Izumi begins removing your clothes, trying to make you feel even more vulnerable, as he stays fully dressed. He looks at your underwear.

"Not bad. Although I doubt they like it like this."

'《They?》', you wonder, thinking he's definitely jealous of the men around you. But little does he know, you bought these with him in mind.

Izumi sits in the middle of the bed, crossed-legged, hinting at you to place yourself on his lap. You oblige.

As he removes your last pieces of clothing while you are sitting on his thighs, he notices something.

"Really? You are already wet from this…? Aren't you a bit of a whore?"

Izumi secures you against himself by firmly wrapping his right arm below your breast. With his left hand, he slides a finger against your vulva and moves it around your slit. His hand feels warm.

"No wonder why you ask for validation from all kinds of men. You like their attention so much, huh?," he insults you while rubbing his middle finger against your clit.

Despite his harsh words, the only sound that leaves your mouth is a moan.

"A finger was all it took to make you moan? See, you don't deserve either of them," he replies coldly while rubbing his finger against your wet clit harder.

His harsh movements, along with his hateful comments, somehow feel godly. Your love juices get all over his hand as wet noises come out of your cunt. Even though you wonder what he's talking about, the one thing on your mind right now is that you are actually having sex with him.

"A-ah~ Izumi~! W-what-" you try to ask while moaning.

"Now my name is the one that comes up when you're fucking someone else than who you pretend to love? Disgusting."

You don't understand the situation. You thought he knew you liked him. His pace goes even faster. Now he uses two of his fingers to rub against your clit. You feel your body tensing up, your back arches, and your toes curl as he continues to touch you. You throw your head backward on top of his shoulder and can feel your climax coming as he keeps firm his hold on you.

"Hahh… Izumi!~" you let out.

You moan his name all over again as you cum on his strong hand, shaking in pleasure.

Izumi remains speechless for a few seconds.

"Wow… So you're really having an orgasm all over the place for some guy you don't even like? What a slut," he finally says.

"What do you mean??" you ask.

He ignores your question and shifts you around his thighs so that you face him, with little to no effort. Startled, you close your thighs.

"Come on, don't act all shy after you just moaned my name out loud, Y/N."

"…"

"Get on your back for me now, I'll spread your legs open myself."

You do as he says. You lay your back on the mattress while facing him. Izumi uncrosses his legs, gets on his knees, and spreads your legs open with one arm. Suddenly, he gets his half-erect cock out of his pants with his other hand and starts jacking off in front of your slit.

"Ugh… What a pathetic view. To say that you're supposed to be a threat," he sighs while masturbating before you.

"…"

You can't help but stare at his dick. It's quite the length. And it looks thick too.

"What? Don't tell me that your animal instincts hit after you saw my cock? Though I really wouldn't be surprised, considering the fact that you are a bitch."

You can't help but get turned on by his harsh words once again. You move your hips a bit, desperate to feel some sort of friction. Izumi notices and hardens his grip on your leg.

"Don't try to feel yourself up, unless you really are a slut who can't wait for my cock," he says while tossing himself off at a quicker pace.

The view of Izumi of all people masturbating in front of your naked body is just too much for you to handle. Despite his many insults, you reach for your clit and start rubbing.

"That's what I thought, you're a slut," he exclaims.

The man faps his cock closer and closer to your crotch. The noises your two genitals let out are so ungodly. You can see that his dick is twitching, wanting to release soon.

"Get ready for additional lube, slut," he says while his dick is right in front of your entrance. "Take it all, shameless whore," he adds while cumming all over your cunt.

He's shooting more and more of his semen over your sensitive parts, but the way he does it without any lust in his cold blue eyes is quite the view. All you can see in him is hatred. It's like he's spitting on you.

You can't help but moan his name as your second climax hits you like a truck. You wouldn't have called yourself a sadomasochist, but the way he's doing you right now is turning you on without a doubt. All you can feel is your orgasm while you're lying down all naked in front of him, with your lowest part covered in his cum. You fail to notice that he finally removed his shirt.

"I'm gonna give you one last warning. You don't deserve to be with either of them, so you better back off."

"Huh?-"

"I know you've been trying to get with Leo-kun or Yuu-kun. Why is it that you chose them of all people? Is it for your personal gains? They already have me. They don't need you," he says while placing his tip at your entrance.

Leo? Makoto? So this is what it is about. But, he got it all wrong, *he* is the one you like.

"Izumi, the one I love, it's--"

The man penetrates your insides quickly. His thick dick spreads your walls open, while also inserting some of his cum from earlier deep inside of you.  It hurts a bit, but you were already so wet that your body adjusts just as fast, taking all of him in.

"Don't you dare say his name right now when you're being fucked dumbed by another one," he threatens you while thrusting.

You remain shocked. You thought that his jealousy was aimed at other men, but it looks like it's aimed toward you. You feel disappointed about the fact that you misunderstood his feelings for you, but at the same time, something else is building up within you.

You stare at where your two bodies are connected. He's placed himself between your legs and is ramming hard into your pussy. He's thrusting aggressively, though each of his movements somehow feels amazing. You look up. Izumi is lying on top of you, his arms placed by both of your shoulders, trapping you. His gaze remains unchanged: cold and hateful.

The one you love is currently railing you hard so that you stop chasing after the one he loves. He loves another one and is fucking you so aggressively because of it. Somehow, the fact that Izumi is jealous of you because of someone else makes you lust after him even more. Your walls clench around his cock. Izumi feels it.

"My, my, what's this Y/N? You're desperate for me now? Bitch," he says while looking at you with his sapphire-blue eyes.

Izumi controls the rhythm and depth of his pelvic thrusting recklessly, fucking you as hard as possible. He wants to make a mess of you after all.

That's it, you don't care what happens next and lose yourself to him. You just want more of Izumi. You wrap your legs around his waist and rest your arms on his back as you moan his name with your eyes half closed.

"Wow... I'm speechless. But you're making it easier for me to ruin you", he says while pounding into your pussy even harder. "No one would want you after I use you like this. You won't be a rival anymore, that I can assure you."

As your legs are now at another angle, he gained even more access to your body. You feel his cock roughly hitting against your cervix, definitely leaving bruises there, as you're holding onto him for dear life.

He is now, like he said, fucking you dumb aggressively. His quick pace without a single care for your well-being is beyond what you could have ever imagined. He just wants to ruin you. But it feels so good.

Ever since you've been locked up in this position with Izumi, both of your body temperatures gradually went high. His back feels so hot against your arms. His hot breath tickles your skin. The entire room is warmed with your respective body heat. As for the mattress, it's covered in sweat, love juices, and semen. You feel yet another climax coming.

Your moans get louder. As Izumi keeps penetrating you raw, you open your mouth, begging for him to kiss you.

"You want to pretend to be lovers now? Ugh, I don't get what they see in you," he asks meanly.

Izumi looks down on you before giving in to your pathetic whim. He keeps his eyes fully open while you are closing yours. His lips softly touch yours before he aggressively wraps his tongue around your own as he continues pounding into you. Now he's even sexually submitting you in your mouth. His saliva mixing with yours feels so arousing. His kiss is so exquisite even if it is loveless.

Your desire to serve him sexually, emotionally, and physically gets bigger and bigger as he's thrusting his dick rapidly against your cervix. You want all of him. If one way to share his frustration and dissatisfaction with you is by filling you up, you are totally down. Even though he doesn't like you, you can't help but want to give him your entire body if it means getting fucked like this.

His pace gets faster. He's very close to his own orgasm as well, you can tell from his hard dick twitching inside of you. He pulls out of the kiss and leaves a spit trail between the two of you. This one strand of saliva is the last straw. That's it, you long for him and wish to own just a part of him, anything.

"Izumi~ ah! Y-you know," you manage to say even though he's ramming into you like crazy, "this whole time..."

"Hm? Do you have regrets about fucking someone else other than him now, or maybe you gave up on him?" he asks while the wet noises from where you are connected keep getting louder and louder.

"*You* are the one I've had a crush on," you finally reveal.

Izumi gives it one last thrust and pours all of his seeds deep within you.

"Wait. What?"

While he's still processing what you just confessed, all of his cum floods your insides. You cum on his dick at the same time. Your arms are gripping his back tightly, your legs are firmly wrapped around his waist, his torso is pressing against your boobs, and his face is as close to you as ever. The pressure he's putting on your cervix is helping more and more of his hot semen to gain access to your womb. For the first time during this session, Izumi stops looking at you with hatred for a second.

Note: Part 2 is now available! Link here

YOOOO it took me so long to write it, it's even longer than my Kanata one

Ugh I had accidently deleted it and had to get the support to look at it 👤.

But yea hope you liked yandere Izumi fic! Usually all we see is a "omg you can only love me 💔😡⛓️ stop talking to him youre mine👿☠️🐺"-yandere x reader, but this time I took it around and reversed it. Oh to be hate-fucked by a yandere who sees us as a potential threat 👤🙏🏼

I left the story there so it's up to interpretation about what he does next: fucks you even more? leaves you? changes his obsession's target to you? You choose

EDIT: I made a part 2! link above

#nsft es!! #enstars thirsts #enstars x you #enstars smut #enstars x female reader #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars x y/n #ensemble stars smut #izumi sena x reader #izumi sena smut #enstars x reader smut #ensemble stars x reader smut #enstars fanfic

[concreteburialplot]

Intertwined // 05

-> 05 - Girl Crush*

pairing; noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist; here | crossposted; ao3 | word count; 10.3k 😅

warnings; sad lol, dumb boys, mutual masturbation, p0rn, alcohol, peer pressure, vomiting, college!omens, jolly intro, gay panic & very mild gender confusion??, denial is a river in egypt, 18+ MDNI

REMINDER: this is an au where everyone is around the same age, follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

a/n: don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

-NICHOLAS- 

It had been about a month since Noah moved out completely and was fully living with us. It wasn’t that difficult of a transition since he stayed with us most of the time anyway. He seemed to be finally settling in and getting comfortable, which I was happy about.

Him living in my house wasn’t the only thing that became comfortable - in fact maybe we’d gotten too comfortable. 

That first night weeks ago, where we took care of our morning wood next to each other, wasn’t the last time. It started as that one time thing, then an occasional thing, then finally, a casual thing. Neither one of us seemed to take it seriously, maybe to play off the implications of it. Because what else are you supposed to do when you jack off next to your best friend regularly?

It became so casual, sometimes as if the other wasn’t there.

--

My half-asleep ears fill with the faint sounds of moans, accompanied by restrained groans I recognize. The more I wake I feel movement behind me.

I stir a bit before turning around finding Noah pumping himself under the covers while holding his phone in the other. He jumps a little when I catch him but doesn’t stop. His actions only halt temporarily.

“Sorry if I woke you up.” He says bashfully, baby pink tinting his cheeks.

“It’s fine.” I gulp, my eyes drifting to the obscene noises coming from his phone. “Whatcha watching?”

He shrugs, tilting his phone to me, revealing the most generic looking porn I’ve ever seen. But porn is porn and it makes my already semi-hard dick twitch. “You wanna… watch too?”

My cheeks grow warm at the offer, “Oh, um, I mean, I don’t wanna intrude…” Though, I can’t help my eyes from being glued to the screen.

He shifts a bit and reaches over, setting the phone down between us propped up in a divot of comforter. In the clumsy process, the duvet slides off his lap revealing his cock.

My eyes widen at the sight of him but I immediately divert my attention so that he doesn’t catch me and assume something else.

“Oh sorry.” He blushes and goes to cover himself again but pauses, “Actually, do you mind? I just don’t wanna deal with the mess and-“

“I don’t mind.” I reply faster than intended. I shake my head, “I just don’t wanna… do that. But I don’t care if you do.”

“Cool.” He nods and returns to his previous position with his eyes locked on the screen.

There’s a panicky heartbeat lingering in my chest but the throbbing in my cock takes precedence. I relax a bit beside him and life the duvet higher up on my body, trying to cover as much of myself as possible.

I spit into my hand before dipping it beneath the covers and down around my member, working it out from my shorts. A hiss leaves my mouth at the coldness of my palm but it doesn’t take long for that discomfort to fade.

My eyes begin on the phone, to the blonde woman with large unnaturally perky breasts being railed by some strong man with a big dick, something you’d find on the first page of any porn site. Not my usual cup of tea but whatever, it’s doing something for me right now.

Naturally, my eyes drift and happen to fall on Noah’s cock. His large hand works up and down his member – he’s duo-toned darker at the base and lighter towards the tip, kind of like me just much pinker. I glance between him and the man in the video. He’s smaller than the man, but he’s definitely not small. The video is obviously emphasizing the man’s large size, but he’s still smaller than me, not by much but he is. It makes me wonder if Noah would be impressed by my size.

Why would I think that? What do I care if Noah’s impressed by my dick?

Noah’s probably not even looking at him like that, I’m just weird I guess.

As if on cue, Noah comments.

“I wish my dick was that big.”

Not wanting to stay uncomfortably silent, I nervously chuckle, “Yeah me too.”

“Well, how big are you?” He asks casually.

My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Surely, he doesn’t actually wanna know.

“Oh – oh, I don’t know, but I don’t wanna take the covers off because-“

Noah proposes a solution, “I could feel?”

“I uh – what do you mean?”

“Like, feel it under the covers. So, I can’t see it. That’s what you’re insecure about isn’t it?”

“Um, I, well,” I stutter, trying to think of any sort of appropriate response. I should say no. I shouldn’t want him to do that. But something in me screams that this might be the only time this could happen – not sure why that’s even important. “Um, sure.”

I scooch a little closer to him so it’s easier for him to reach. Unexpectedly, he brings his free hand up to his mouth and spits into it. My eyebrows furrow at the action, not quite understanding why that’s necessary. But when his arm snakes itself under the covers and his hand replaces mine, I’m suddenly not as confused.

My eyes round at the feeling of his hand around me and every muscle in my body tenses when he starts moving.

“Jesus, you’re pretty big.” He says before his hand even reaches my tip.

Suddenly, all the nerves in my body seem to flood to cock and I feel so sensitive under his fingertips. I should be watching the video, but my eyes bounce between his still working on himself and on his other one bobbing under the covers. I can’t tell fully, but it seems like he’s pumping himself faster than before.

His palm reaches the head then slowly slides back down. “You’re so much bigger than me.” His voice seeming casual, but there’s a hint of strain beneath it.

His words and his even faster movements on both of us only worsens the buzzing in my cock.

“Is this okay? I just, I’ve only ever felt my own dick so, I’ve only ever imagined what having a bigger one would feel like.”

“Yeah, yep. It’s fine.” I reply quickly, just trying to maintain my composure.

My chest rises and falls rapidly and my fingers curl into the sheets. A familiar knot forms in the pit of my tummy and the last thing I want to do is cum while he’s touching me. His hand moves on me at the same speed as on his own. His fingertips stride up and down the underside of my length, hitting the sensitive spot beneath my tip every time. My lips press flat together as I try to stave off my orgasm – I don’t want to cum while he’s touching me, but I also don’t want him to stop.

Thankfully he has less stamina than I do.

“Ah, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groans, working quickly on himself chasing his climax. “Fuck, fuck!” He whines desperately. His hand doesn’t stop on me while his hips buck up into his hand spurting milky white all over his exposed tummy.

The visual of his cock twitching and spilling cum all over his hand, combined with his high pitched moans and his hand on me catapults me over the edge. “F-Fuck.” I sputter out a strangled groan and scrunch my eyes closed. Before I have time to yank him off of me, my body goes rigid beneath him. The buzzing across my skin seems to all rush into my throbbing cock in Noah’s still moving hand. “O-Oh.” Slips from my mouth just above a whisper while every muscle in my abdomen tightens. I feel myself twitch and spill my own cum into the duvet and all over his hand.

The orgasm nearly blinds my vision and my heart beats so fast I can hear it thumping in my ears. Those couple seconds where it was just me, my racing heart and my throbbing cock, it was pure bliss. Possibly the hardest I’ve ever came before. 

It’s not until I begin to come down that I realize what just happened and that… he worked me fully through my high? 

My eyes shoot open the second I return to earth and feel his hand finally slip off my softening member. For a split second I contemplate if there’s a way for me to get out of this without even looking at him and god I wish there was. 

Fuck

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” I begin to profusely apologize before he cuts me off. 

He laughs, “It’s okay. I’m sure having someone else’s hand probably feels a lot better than your own. Even if it had been you I probably would’ve came even faster than normal… and you know I already don’t last long as it is.” He chuckles with a light peach tinting his cheeks.

One part of me feels bad that I hadn’t returned the favor, until I remember I didn’t really even want to do this to begin with. Then, another part of me wishes I had returned the favor, maybe I wanted to know the same thing he did - maybe I want to know what another cock would feel like in my hand too. 

“Yeah - um,” I swallow the little saliva I have left in my dry mouth. “Yeah it was nice.” 

He pulls his hand from beneath the covers. “So much for not making a mess.” He laughs. 

My eyes round when I see just how much I had spilt all over his hand. “Yeah, yeah sorry again, I just didn’t think that…” My eyes follow his stare on the milky white mess of mine on his hand. 

His coffee brown eyes snap up to mine and utters out the last words I ever thought he’d say. “Have you ever tasted your own cum?”

I blink blankly at him, completely devoid of words. 

What the fuck

“I-I um, no? Why would I?” 

“I don’t know, curiosity?”

“…Have you?”

“Well, yeah, I wanted to know.” He shrugs. “It was gross, bitter. But,” His eyes flutter back down to his hand. “I’ve obviously never tasted anyone else’s. I wonder if yours tastes different?”

My brain seems to glitch, not fully comprehending his statement. 

“I-I um, I mean, probably.”

“Would it be super weird if I tasted it?”

My brows shoot up at the question. 

But I reply before I’m even sure of my answer. “No, I um, don’t think it would be that weird?” 

And it wouldn’t be, right?

He’s just curious.

Just like he was about my cock. 

“Alright.” His tone much less confident than just seconds ago. 

His dark brown eyes drop to the puddle of my cum on his right hand, just above where his thumb meets his hand. He lifts it tentatively up to his mouth; my eyes can’t help but rotate between his face and his approaching hand. Hesitantly, he darts his pink tongue past his lips to dip the tip of it into the puddle. Unexpectedly, his eyes find mine, snapping me out of my gaze that was locked on his tongue. His mahogany eyes surprise me, with how round and soft they are - so puppy dog-like for a situation such as this. I blink at him and for some reason, seeing him flatten his tongue a bit on the remnants of me makes my cock twitch. He takes a scoop of my orgasm on his tongue and into his mouth. 

“Hm.” He hums, almost sounding pleased, like he was taste-testing wine. “You taste better than me. Sweeter. Must be all those bananas you eat.”

Sweeter

My brows join together, perturbed, “It can’t be that different?”

His boney shoulders raise into a shrug. “You can try mine if you want? To make it even or whatever.” He gestures his left hand up a bit to remind me that his mess remains on that hand too. 

“Oh - I - well -“ I watch his hand gesture towards me again. The turbulence in my tummy reminds me of when someone offers you a gift and out of politeness, you’re supposed to refuse it - but I don’t want to refuse. I want to know.

“Oh c’mon it’s only fair, it’s not that bad.” He urges me, only reaffirming my inability to voice a decline. 

I look down at the back of his hand covered in cloudy white rivers. My fingers gently take hold of his wrist and he lets me take control of his arm without a single ounce of resistance. I bring his hand to my lips and copy his actions - dart my tongue out and meet his eyes. His are just as intrigued as mine were, locked in my tongue. 

The second his cum meets my taste buds, my eyes flutter closed. I’m surprised at the taste, it’s bitter and salty, what I imagine battery acid must taste like. The texture is about what I imagined, thick and slimy. And yet, even with the immediate disgust of it, it makes my cock twitch again. There’s a tingle in my fingertips and on my tongue that urges me to lap up the rest of his orgasm but I fear if I did, I’d be completely hard again. I never thought something as rancid as battery acid would make me hard, but for some reason right now it’s threatening to. 

I’ve never been more grateful for anything more than the duvet on my body right now. 

I half-force a twist in my face at the taste as I pull back from his arm. “Augh, that’s disgusting.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh, “See! Told ya.” 

A nervous chuckle escapes me, “That you did…” 

-Next Day- 

Since landing an apprenticeship at a local tattoo parlor, I don’t see much of either Noah or Folio. While I’m at work after class, they’ve been hanging out at the library in a study group full of people I barely know - people from the frat party a couple weeks ago. 

Today though, I got off my shift early and I’m on a different mission. 

-

My tires screech and the weight of my entire body jerks forward as Stella makes another abrupt stop at a redlight. My hand lands on my dash as a reflex I had gotten far too familiar with.

My tongue passes between my lips before pressing them together and close my eyes through a deep breath. I consider myself a fairly patient person, but if there’s anyone on earth who could get me to snap, it is definitely my sister.

“I told you to start braking 5 million feet ago.” I exhaled with the hopes of Buddha himself coming down and bestowing me with a well-deserved medal of excellent patience.

“Whatever, we still stopped, didn’t we?” She sasses, as she continues to dance to whatever pop song pours through the speakers.

“Yeah, barely.” I grumble, crossing my arms in the passenger seat. “I have no idea how they let you pass your driver’s test.”

“You are so grouchy today.” She glares at me. “What, did the shop bully you again?”

My eyes roll so hard they could’ve fallen out. “No.” I clench my fingers into my palms and stretch them out as overlayed flashbacks of scrubbing every inch of the tattoo parlor flash across my mind. “No, I just cleaned a lot. Fumes. Headache.”

“Right.” She responds unconvinced.

The car takes a sharp turn into a plaza I’ve only ever driven past before and pulls into a parking spot right in front of the destination of my mission.

“We’re here!” She beams, turning the engine off.

We walk up to the small shop snuggled in the tiny strip. The walls look like they were once white, a long, long time ago. Now they’re stained a yellow-y beige with weeds and vines growing across the plaster.

“’Record Store. Plus repairs.’” I read off the giant red letters above the door. “How creative.”

Stella’s elbow sharply jabs into my ribcage. “Ow!” I hiss and recoil away from her. 

“Be nice. Be cool.” She scolds me in a hushed tone.

Whatever the fuck ‘nice and cool’ means to a teenage girl.

A bell trills sharply when she pushes open the glass door. A rush of cold AC blasts against our skin soon as we step into the foyer. 

At the tall reception desk stands a man with lengthy brown hair and a long face. He looks a couple years older than me, at least 23ish.

“Hi Jolly!” Perks Stella almost jumping the second her fingertips meet the glossy wood.

My teeth dig into my bottom lip in an attempt to stifle a giggle when I see the man noticeably deflate the moment he hears the shrill chirp of my sister’s 16-year old voice.

He sets down his pen on whatever paperwork he was working on and turns to us, “Hello Stella.” He greets flatly, with a hint of a foreign accent I can’t place yet.

It’s quite obvious that she comes in here often, more than she’s let on – enough for them to be on a first-name basis.

“Jolly, this is my brother Nick, Nick this is Jolly.” She beams at his name, completely smitten with the older boy. If it wasn’t so obvious that he’s irritated by her mere presence, I’d be more protective of her - but she’s perfectly fine. She’s made sure of that herself.  

“Hey.” I meekly wave at him.

He acknowledges me with a nod and looks back at her. “What’s up.”

“Well, we need your help!” She rocks up and down on her feet with her hands behind her back.

“Great. What is it you need help with?” His fingertips restlessly patter on the table top, impatiently waiting for her to deliver her pitch faster. 

“Go on Nick, show him.” She urges motioning her hand towards him.

I sigh and pull out my phone from my jean’s back pocket, then scroll to find a picture of Noah’s snapped guitar and hand it to the man.

“Could you fix that? Or know someone who could?” I inquire, already feeling as though the trip was hopeless.

His brows pull together as he inspects the picture then uses two fingers to zoom in on the instrument. “Whoever did this really did a number on it.”

“Yeah.” I mumble, scratching the back of my neck. “So, do you think you could fix it?”

“Hmm.” He hums, pulling down his thick-rimmed glasses down his nose. “I can’t say for sure, you’d have to bring it in.”

Air escapes my throat with another sigh, that’s the last thing I wanted to hear. “Okay. I’ll get it in as soon as I can.” Even though I have no idea how I’ll be able to do that without Noah noticing.

He hands me back my phone, “That’s a really rough break.”

“Trust me, I know. Thanks for looking.” My tone suddenly lacking optimism. “And sorry about…” When I turn to point at Stella, I realize she’s not beside me anymore, now shuffling through the various wooden crates of records. “Her.”

He taps his pen against the counter and glances over at her. “It’s fine. She brings friends in. They buy records. Sales are sales.” He shrugs before going back to whatever he was working on before we interrupted him.

Stella doesn’t seem to want to leave anytime soon so I let myself roam around the shop. The majority of the small store is made up of boxes full of records, a mix of old and new. A small, separated section has various instruments strewn about, most of them looking refurbished. The air is pungent with the smell of sandalwood incense, some kind of chemical-y polish, and stale wood.

“Okay! Ready to go!” Stella calls from behind me and when I turn to her she’s holding a record that I recognize.

“Since when do you listen to Nine Inch Nails?” My brow arches up, seeing as she’s only ever been a Taylor Swift type of girl.

She giggles, “Jolly suggested them.”

I take two fingers and pinch the bridge of my nose with a deep sigh, “Okay, whatever, let’s go.”

--

Stella and I walk into the house and my ears are immediately unsettled by the sounds that fill the house. They’re giggles, some I recognize to be Noah’s but the other is quite … feminine. 

The edges of Stella’s lip curl into a mischievous grin, “Oooooh Noah snuck a girl innnn.” She snickers in a sing-song tone.

“Go to your room Stella.” I order, mostly because her tone irritated me but also because I don’t want her to see what’s behind the cracked door.

She gives me a glare, “You’re just jealous that he’s getting some and you’re not.”

“Go. To. Your. Room.” I repeat sternly through gritted teeth.

“Fine, whatever. Be the party pooper you always are.” She huffs before turning down the hall and slamming the door behind her when gets to her room.

I blink at the doorknob as her words sear into my chest. I question even interrupting until another giggle pierces my eardrums.

I’m precarious with the way I approach the cracked door and peer in. Noah and the girl from the party, Kassidy, next to each other on the bed with open textbooks and notebooks littered about. They’re laughing at something but all I can focus on is her hand on his thigh. An odd twist forms in my abdomen, somewhere between my ribs and my gut. It makes me feel sick, like I ate some gas station sushi.

My knuckle taps on the door and creaks it open. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey Nick!” Noah seems surprised to see me but not necessarily upset by my presence, which for some reason eases the knot in my chest. “I heard a door slam did-”

It’s not until the blonde waves at me with the hand that’s not glued to Noah’s thigh that I realize the anger staining my fingertips.

“Noah, can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask through a fake smile.

“Sure.” He nods, “Be right back, Kass.”

Once the bedroom door clicks behind him, I feel myself begin to unravel.

“Does my mom know you’re bringing girls home?” I question, my voice coming out much harsher than intended.

“No…?” He answers. “I figured I would just do what we always did with each other? Sneak in.”

“Okay well, I don’t appreciate you bringing girls into my room. Please tell me you guys didn’t do anything in my bed.” The words shoot from me, quick and sharp, like acid bullets.

His face falls and I see the light behind his warm eyes dim.

My

Fuck

I regret the words the second I realize my mistake. Though I suppose on some level, deep down, I knew that the word choice would hurt him, but I said it anyway.

I said it anyway.

I was so upset that I said it anyway.

“No?” He replies sounding a bit offended at the accusation, even though it’s not out of the realm of possibility. “I wouldn’t do that in your bed.”

The impulse to lash back is there, bubbling just under my skin, but I have no reason to be angry. No valid, explainable reason. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Lie.

“Right.” Noah says softly but with a slight edge. “Well, I” He thumbs over his shoulder. “Um, she was just about to leave so.”

“Okay.” I reply quietly, suddenly overwhelmed with an odd mixture of anger and guilt.

-

While Noah escorts the girl out to say goodbye, I begin tidying up the room. Noah is pretty clean thankfully, so the room itself is clean, but I can’t shake the feeling of something oddly foreign within the four walls. The room suddenly feels so dirty and the taste on my tongue is sour like expired milk. My eyes land on the bed sheets and my stomach feels like I had drank expired milk – maybe 3 whole gallons of it. My mind struggles to account for the food I had eaten today but fails. Surely that is the reason for my abrupt nausea.

Before I can even process my actions, my fingers hungrily latch onto the bed sheets, snapping each fitted corner off the mattress. Heavy textbooks and pens hit the floor with a loud crash.

Despite having just washed them, I’m absolutely positive that they’re filthy.

Maybe they smelled too much like stagnant laundry this morning

Maybe they were making me itchy last night

Maybe I developed an allergy to our detergent

Maybe it’s been too warm and I soaked them in sweat

Or maybe I just want to clean the fucking sheets.

“Oh,” Noah’s gentle voice startles me from the doorway. His eyes trail up from the mess on the floor to the balled-up sheets beneath my palms. “Um, did I accidentally get highlighter on them or something?”

“Nope.” I’m quick to answer. “Just wanna wash ‘em.”

His brows furrow still looking at where my hands keep the shape of the large sphere of material. “Oh. Um, well. I just washed them like 2 or 3 days ago?”

“It’s fine, I just want to wash them again.” I respond shortly.

“Okay… well, let me do it then.” He crosses the space between us going for the sheets but I pull away.

“No. I got them, thanks.” I avoid him by swerving around his thin body and head towards the door.

 “Well, what can I do? I could mop again or… reorganize the fridge? Or…” He trails off, not being able to come up with much else.

“No, Noah. It’s Stella’s turn to mop and who the fuck offers to reorganize a fridge?” I snap at him from the doorway, “You don’t need to be cleaning the house 24/7, okay?”

His eyes falter but he nods “Oh, sorry, I um, I just wanna be doing my part. You know… earn my keep and all that? I just… wanna help.”

My face softens and the tight muscles in my shoulders ease. I feel guilt all over again. 

I sigh. “I’m sorry – I just - I just had a bad week with school and with the shop and,” I pause. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, okay?”

He nods and the edges of his mouth upturn ever so slightly into a tight-lipped smile. “Okay.” He pauses, fidgeting with his fingers. “Sorry about Kassidy. I should’ve asked.” He says quietly while his eyes drop to his anxious hands.

The tips of my fingers curl into the sheets a bit, a stream of… frustration maybe?  shoots through my veins. “It’s okay. I just don’t want my mom to get mad.”

A half lie.

“Right.”

When I turn to leave, he stops me, “Oh – I wanted to ask you something?”

My eyes widen while still turned away from him. A chill rolls up my spine at the realization that we’ve barely spoken since yesterday morning, when his hand was around my cock.

“Um sure, what’s up?” I turn back to him cautiously.

“Well, the fair is in town this weekend, I thought we could go? You know, me, you and Folio?”

I smile at him, relieved it wasn’t about something else. “Sure, sounds fun.”

-Friday Night-

When Folio comes to pick us up, I immediately regret agreeing to carpool. The passenger side door flings open with yet another blonde in the front seat. This one a bit more of a natural, darker blonde and not nearly as bobblehead-like. She looks vaguely familiar, maybe she was one of the wannabe sorority girls from the frat party.

I sigh when I glance over to my busted blue car that’s been acting up every morning since the cold weather’s been getting closer.

The girl smiles wide at us and gets out so we can fold her chair to get to the backseat.

We squeeze our way to the back and naturally, Noah’s mile-long limbs take up most of the room.

The thick distinctive stench of paper-wrapped nicotine coats the cracking plastic of his car doors and the pungent aroma of $10-per-gram weed oozes from the stained beige seats.

Even though Nick brought his ‘friend’, I feel decent about the fair tonight. I mean these are the things we should be doing, right? Going out is what college kids do.

The girl hands back a plastic bottle wrapped in brown paper and Noah hungrily takes it.

“Vodka.” She says simply with a dazed smile.

“Cool.” Noah grins, though I know he’s never tasted pure vodka in his life.

He puts the bottle to his lips and tips it back, immediately scrunching his face in disgust at the taste. If it was just us, I know he would’ve spit it out.

He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, “Not bad.” He lies straight through his teeth.

Noah tips the bottle offering it to me. I shake my head and wave it off, “No, I’m good thanks.”

“Oh, c’mooonn Nick, don’t be a wuss.” Noah whines.

“Yeah Nick, loosen up! Have some fun!” Folio perks up from the driver's seat and watches me in the rearview mirror.

The last time he told me to “loosen up”, he ended up floundering in a lake so it hardly has an enticing ring to it.

“No really.” I reaffirm. “Not for me.”

Noah tsk’s and rolls his eyes, “You’re no fun.”

The words hit me square in the chest and my ribs mold around the letters like playdoh.

You’re no fun.

They’re simple words. Logically, I know they’re mostly a joke. Yet, they burn like a lit match colliding with white paper.

You’re no fun.

We’ve been friends for a long time. Long enough to sit in boring silence scrolling on our phones comfortably for hours. But now I’m no fun because I won’t drink out of a foreign bottle?

The searing in my lungs forces my hand to reach and snatch the bottle from him abruptly. I don’t think, I just do. I take the bottle to my lips and tilt my head back with scrunched-closed eyes. I chug, better he did and better than the girl, until the scorching of my throat gets too much.

I shove the bottle back at him, now an extra quarter empty. His face and every other face in the car seem shocked, eyes wide with slightly dropped jaws.

“What?” I hiss and let out a vodka-singed burp. “You told me to have fun.”

--

Nick’s wheels roll to a halt in the dirt of the fair’s extended parking. The crowded car disperses faster than I anticipated, leaving me alone in the empty car. I stumble out of my seat and precariously steady myself in the dirt to scan the parking lot for the group. The four of them are already ahead of me, nearly halfway to the entrance. Their laughter carries in the wind all the way back over to me. 

Once I catch up, I trail behind them quietly. My hands stuffed in my pockets and my Vans kicking up dry dirt, just trying to focus on walking in a straight line. 

As we approach the ticketing office, my heart plummets to my stomach when I see two familiar girls standing at the gate waiting for us. 

I should’ve known.

“Nicholas, you remember Brooke, right?” Noah grins and gestures to the carbon copy of every other sorority girl on campus.

“Yeah. Hey.”

That’s when I notice the delay in my words and the lag between my fingertips as I wave to her. And as we buy our tickets and make our way into the fair, I catch the warmth all over my skin and the growing numbness in my lips.

I think I’m drunk. Really drunk. 

 --

We make a solid lap around the entire park – picking up random snacks here and there, some fried oreos, a shared funnel cake, slushees, and more I can’t even remember. All the fried food mixed with the couple spin-y rides and the alcohol sloshing in my stomach, I was more than ready for an actual meal. I convinced everyone on hotdogs since it’s the cheapest food here and I’d already spent a good chunk of my tip money on ride tickets and overpriced junk food.

When we reach the window of the hotdog stand we’re met with a familiar face.

“Bryan!” Exclaims Folio, excited to see his fraternity mentor.

As always, Bryan looks about as thrilled as a mother of toddler triplets after a candy bender.

“Trout.” He replies unenthusiastically with his monotone cadence matching the deep sleep-deprived purple beneath his eyes.

Normally I would’ve giggled at Folio’s ridiculous nickname but my body was too focused on sustenance.  

“Two hotdogs and fries please.” I skip past the rest of the indecisive group.

“We’re out of fries.” He replies flatly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He just shrugs, unbothered.

“Fine. Just the hotdogs then.” I huff.

“Coming right up.” He feigns enthusiasm.

The rest of the group place their orders and I can’t help but find amusement in how comical Bryan looks. He’s uniformed in a hotdog themed apron and a silly hotdog visor.

We finally make our way to a painted blue picnic table that sits off to the side away from the busy crowd. I’m grateful for the small respite from the overwhelming, overstimulating chatter.

I fucking hate hotdogs. Usually.

But the minute that meat and bread combo meets my tastebuds, it is as though heaven itself found home in my mouth.

The rest of table fades out as I devour my food and it is only when I’ve finished my 2nd dog that start regaining consciousness. I glance over at the boys who are in the midst of telling some story that’s got all the girls laughing.

My eyes land on Kassidy. She’s giggling at every single thing Noah says and he’s looking at her like she hung the moon. 

No matter how tacky or annoying she is, she’s still objectively beautiful – beautiful in a way I could never be.

The way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, makes me want long blonde hair too. When she bats her fake lashes at him, it makes me wish mine were longer. Her nails adorned with white tips suddenly make my nailbeds feel bare. The foundation caked on her face reminds me of the breakout I have on my cheek and the stubble growing beneath my nostrils. All at once I’m disappointed with every bit of myself that isn’t like her.

A fleeting moment of curiosity passes pondering if this is what it feels like to question your gender. It had never crossed my mind to be anything other than male, nothing else I ever desired. I’ve never felt like I was in the wrong body or anything of the sort – so, I don’t quite think that’s what I’m feeling now.

Maybe I just envy her existence or how confident she is. Maybe I find her attractive? It’d be kinda shitty if I found her attractive, seeing as she’s Noah’s date and I’m here with Brooke. I don’t think it’s that either, since I can barely tolerate either of them.

Perhaps I’m just drunk and confused.

I must just be drunk and confused.

Once the food settles in my tummy, I feel significantly better, a little nauseous still but better nonetheless. My buzz has fizzled, but the tips of my fingers still tingle and words are still hard.

I quietly use a leftover bun to move around a glob of ketchup as entertainment. Noah’s always been the social one, he’s always been the connections, the glue. So, it’s no surprise that he’s captured the attention of the whole table, filling the air with collective drunken giggles. Normally though, he helps nudge me gently into conversations. He helps me not stay silent like I am now. It’s fine though, I don’t have much to contribute since they have all these inside jokes from their study group.

I snap out of my daze when I hear Folio crunch a coke can in his hand as he gets up from the table. There’s an emptiness beside me I hadn’t felt til now – Brooke is gone.

My gaze follows the group as they get up from the table to bring their trash to the overflowing garbage can.

“Where did Brooke go?” I ask to the general conglomerate, most of which pay no mind to me.

“She left to go meet up with some other friends.” Noah replies, his tone suggests that he’s downplaying the situation. I’m sure she wasn’t having fun with a half-drunk silent boy.

‘You’re no fun’ rings in my head from earlier in the car.

2 things I’ve learned from tonight are:

1 – eat hotdogs when drunk.

2 – pretending to be “fun” is really fucking exhausting.

“Oh.” I say quietly, matching their actions by tossing my flimsy paper plate and Dr. Pepper can into the trash.

“We’re heading towards the bigger rides, if you want to come.” He turns and follows the rest of the group through some carnival game tents.

‘If you want to’ I mimic him in my head.

No I don’t fucking want to but I was driven here and I’m stranded.

“Yeah.” I mumble and quickly jog to meet them ahead of me.

--

The others made their way to the short ferris wheel line after I insisted it was okay to leave me behind. I sure as fuck didn’t want to sit in a pod alone or 3rd wheel on one of their’s.

I watch Noah and Kassidy’s pod reach and stop at the peak of the small ferris wheel, I don’t know why I’m watching but my body is rooted where I stand. Upon it’s a slow descent down, I see it.

His hand cupping her face. Their lips locked.

It’s not a decision I make until their pod locks at the gate and they’re being let out. My foot swivels in the dirt, kicking up dying grass as I try to dip around various family-owned booths for cover. As feared, I hear him calling from behind. I knew I had messed up by making a run for it so late.

“Nicholas!”

His calling only makes my legs move faster – I’m not sure exactly why I’m running or what good it’ll do, just that I need to get as far away from him as possible.

He catches up to me faster than I was prepared for. Fall leaves crunch beneath his worn-out Converse. “Where are you going?” He asks and before I even turn around to see him, I know the look on his face. The same look that I can’t seem to ever say no to – the one that breaks my back just to make me bend to him.

I sigh and turn to him. “Noah, I’m going home.”

“What! Why?”

And there it was. Big, round, puppy dog eyes full of decadent chocolate so sweet it could rot the teeth right out of your skull - paired with pouted lips that demand pity and restitution.

“I’m not having fun. I don’t want to be here.”

“What? You told me you wanted to go to the fair?” He questions with curved eyebrows.

“No. I didn’t. You invited me. You told me that I wanted to go. You tricked me into being on a triple date I didn’t want to be on.” My arm gesturing towards the fair.

“Well, c’mon we can still make it fun! We can just get some more ride tickets and-” He grabs the sleeve of my flannel and tugs at it towards the fair.

I yank my arm back so hard it nearly pulls him back with it, “No you’re not listening to me Noah. I don’t want to be here. Why do you continue to bring me places that you KNOW I won’t like?”

“We’ve been to the fair a million times, Nick.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah! With just us! Not with three random fucking girls!” The churning in my chest begins to spit drunken thoughts out without filters.

His brows knit together in confusion. “They’re not random girls Nicholas, and I really thought you’d hit it off with Brooke-”

“Oh my god, why the fuck would you think I’d get along with her? Just because she’s got tits and ass? Sorry, I’m not you, I need a little more than that.” I scoff.

“Well, I-I don’t know just thought you’d want-”

“Augh!” I groan and pace a tiny lap around the grass. “Can you stop assuming you know what I do or don’t want?”

“So, let me get this straight. You don’t want to go to parties, or the fair, or hang out with girls… normal college stuff, you don’t want?”

My heart pounds hard against my eardrums and my fingers burn with frustration. My fists tighten at my sides and my jaw clenches, digging each row of teeth into the other. Molten lava threatens to spill from my throat.

“No, Noah. I guess I don’t want ‘normal college stuff’, I don’t fucking like alcohol and I don’t even know if I like girls!”

My yelled words tumbled from my mouth so easily I didn’t even realize I said anything that odd until Noah’s eyes widen.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

“What?” Noah asks softly and genuinely with his head tilted slightly.

“I-I,” I stumble back, accidentally hitting an oak tree behind me. “I’m- I just need to go home.”

“Nick.” His hands stretch out to grab my arm as I turn to leave but he’s a millisecond too late. “Nick!” He calls after me.

Every bit of adrenaline available in my body propels me forward, past all the booths, all the rides, and through all the neighboring forest. When my feet finally find asphalt, my head feels like a basketball on a player’s fingertip. My eyes widen at a sharp turn in my stomach. I analyze my surroundings in a split second, running towards a lamp post for support. The moment my palm touches the cold metal, I double over and empty the contents of my stomach onto the concrete. The funnel cake, the cotton candy, the fried Oreos, the slushees, and the goddamn fucking hotdogs all found home the sidewalk.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

Why would I say that?

Is that true?

Do I not like girls?

Of course, I like girls.

I wobble over to a bench and sit on the cool wood. The weather’s a lot colder now that the sun has set, and I regret not bringing a proper jacket.

I like girls. I know I like girls. Right?

I mean, I’ve been jerking off to girls… this whole time? So, if I didn’t like girls, why would I do that?

I like girls.

Only.

I like girls.

Right?

I shake my head of the thoughts spinning faster than I can even grasp.

The dim light of the street lamp flickers and it occurs to me that it’s almost 10 pm and I have no idea where I am or how to get home.

Fuck.

Pulling my location up in my Maps app tells me that I’m still fairly close to the fair, which unfortunately means I’m pretty far from home. Tears begin prickling in my eyes and a tight knot forms in my throat.

The weight of the night crashes down onto me all at once.

The “you’re no fun”

The fucking hot dogs

The “she went to meet other friends”

The “if you want to”

The ferris wheel

The “I don’t even know if I like girls”

“Fuck.” My voice cracks as tears take hostage of my cheeks.

My body doubles over, folding in on itself to bury my face in my hands.

I’m drunk, I had a shit night, I left my best friends at the fair and now I’m stranded on some random street.

Even through my own heaving, a brief pang of guilt shoots in my stomach for leaving Noah behind.

He wanted to have a good night, perhaps I ruined it. 

In the past, I would’ve stayed feeling guilty because I knew for a fact that if the roles were reversed, he’d come back to find me. But now, I’m not so sure. I don’t think he’d leave Kassidy for anyone or anything.

Not even me.

My palms try to stave off the tears by digging into my eye sockets.

“Fuck, okay. I need to get it together.” I say out loud to myself, letting out a deep exhale. “What the fuck am I gonna do.”

Both of my only friends are still at the fair.

Mom is at work.

So that leaves me with…

Stella.

“Shit.”

I unwillingly pull myself from the bench and begin to pace back and forth taking fast but deep breaths. I ring out my hands out, trying to expel any sort of panic from them. The last thing I need is for her to see me like this.

Finally, once I’ve composed myself, I dig my phone out of my pocket and click her contact name “Snot”.

It rings for a little bit too long and I almost hang up just before she answers.

“Hello?” She asks a little louder than necessary, shortly after I hear a flood of giggles in the background. Her sleepover.

“Hey.” I barely get out without my voice cracking.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asks with concern lacing her voice. There’s the sound of a door closing behind her, shutting out the chatter.

“Oh um-“ My tone pitched up and I feel tears welling up in my eyes again. If the rest of tonight’s events weren’t enough, here I am making a fool out of myself to my little sister. “I forgot about your sleepover. It's fine – I’ll just walk home or something.”

“Walk home? Where are you?”

I swallow the knot in my throat trying to keep my voice level, normal and calm but my pause is long and loud.

“I-I,” My eyes squeeze shut pushing as much of my tears out. “I don’t know.”

“Did you drink?”

The back of my hand roughly wipes my nose. “Yes.”

“Are you with Noah?” Her voice is gentle and kind and reminds me of how our mother would talk to us when we scraped our knees.

I sniffle and my voice threatens to break once more. “No.”

“Okay.” She states as if she just got handed a checklist of effortless tasks. “The girls were just about to go home.” I know that’s a lie. “Drop me a pin and I’ll come get you.”

“Thanks Stell.” I reply quietly.

“Of course.”

--

It took about 20 minutes for Stella to pick me up in my own car.

My arms wrap around my shivering body and my head rests on the window as I watch the streetlights zoom past us. Her speed is inconsistent, fast in short bursts then slow in long drags. Her stops are jerky and her turns wide. If this was an early Tuesday school morning, she wouldn’t be able to stop my mouth from rambling off critiques. But tonight, opening my mouth seems more dangerous than her driving.

“So. Do you wanna talk about what happened?” She cuts through the silence unapologetically, like opening a crisp can of Coke in a dead, silent room.

I shake my head.

“C’mon. You can’t really expect me to pick you up in the middle of nowhere at midnight without any context?” She patters her fingertips on the steering wheel and glances over at me. “Did something happen with Noah? Did you get into a fight?”

“Something like that.” I mutter.

She squints her eyes and kind of tilts her head to the side. “You guys never fight?”

“Well.” I reply bluntly. “Things change, I guess.” The fabric of the seat cover stretches as I shift. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

The gears spin in her head, I can almost see them. “Weird.” She mumbles under her breath. “Was it about a girl?”

“I said I’m done answering questions.”

“Sheesh, okay.” She says defensively.

Silence fills every empty space in the car. I’m not sure I’ve ever been uncomfortable around my sister before, but I certainly am now. It’s a new feeling, something I want to run and hide from. My knee bounces nervously as my mind cycles through everything that happened tonight. Regardless of anxiety and confusion twisting my organs into pretzels, I fear that if I don’t say what’s chanting in my head right now, I could explode.

“I told Noah that I don’t even know if I like girls.” I blurt out with extreme urgency, as if I didn’t get it out now, I never would.

Her eyes widen a bit but they stay focused on the road. My heart thumps hard against my chest threatening to jump right out.

“Okay.” She says calmly but cautiously. “And why did you say that?”

“I-I don’t know.” I let the weight of my body finally relax and sink into the seat. “You’ve known me my whole life. Do you think that I… might not only like girls?”

She turns to me at a red light and the face she gives me reminds me of when she was 4 and I was 7, when I speculated that Santa might not be real. Without a second thought she replied, “Of course he’s not real, silly.”

Even at 4 years old she was smarter than me.

“I think that might be a question you have to figure out yourself, Nick. I can’t tell you what you do or don’t like.”

I huff, suddenly frustrated that I couldn’t hand off such a complex task onto someone else – that I couldn’t have someone else give me a quick, solid, factual answer.

“I guess you’re right.” I mumble. 

She returns her focus to the road and lets out a little sigh. “Do you remember when we were little? And we liked Power Rangers?”

“…Yeah?” I reply confused as to what exactly Power Rangers has to do with my sexuality.

“Well, I remember the first time we watched it - and you thought it was so stupid.”

“No I didn’t? I loved Power Rangers?” 

“No.” She corrects me. “At first, when it was just us, you thought it was dumb. But then all your friends started liking it and suddenly you did too. You even wanted to be the red one for the group costume that Halloween, remember?”

“Okay… and? What are you getting at?”

“I can’t tell you what you are or aren’t, Nick. But you’re right - I have known you my whole life. And I know that sometimes you change things about yourself to, I don’t know… not make waves? Not stand out? To fit in? I don’t know your reasoning and I don’t know if that’s what you did with this. But… just something to think about I guess?”

My fingers tap at my knee in thought. I don’t really remember that specific component, only that I had Power Ranger shirts and bedsheets. I remember playing with the figures on the playground with friends and running around the neighborhood with them on Halloween as the Red Ranger. If I was having fun, does it really matter if I didn’t actually like Power Rangers? 

“Yeah… I guess it’s something to think about.” I let out a deep sigh. “How’d you get so smart anyway?”

She shoots me a smile, “I learned from the best.”

“Nope, definitely not me. That was all Mom.”

“Who did you think I meant?” She smirks.

“Ha-ha so funny.” I roll my eyes with a toothy grin, finally feeling the tiniest sliver of ease enter my body.

The relaxation slipped from me as quickly as it arrived. “Please don’t um, tell her…or anyone that we talked about this �� especially Noah.”

“You got it. I would never.”

I somehow feel relieved yet terrified of what I’ve just divulged to her.

“Do you wanna get donuts from that 24-hour place? And maybe some water for your inevitable hangover?”

“God yes please.” My thumbs rub circles into my throbbing temples. “And a burger please, jesus I need a burger. And fries, I need fries more than air right now.”

“Fiiine, McDonalds too, I guess.”

“Thanks, Stell.” I say soft and genuine.

“Of course, Nick.”

I smile kindly at her. Tomorrow I’ll probably regret everything I said and did tonight but right now, I’m getting junk food with my sister at midnight and the world is quiet. Everything feels okay, even if it only lasts until the end of my Mcdonald’s.

I wave Stella goodnight as she walks into her room. With a twist of my doorknob, I open my door and my feet halt in their tracks. My swollen eyes widen at the last thing I expected to be in my room.

“What are you doing here?” I question before I can even really gauge my own reaction.

Noah sits on the edge of the bed still in the same outfit from the fair.

“I went looking for you.” His brown eyes find mine and it makes my chest ache the same way it did earlier on the bench.

“You did?” My square shoulders soften briefly before straightening back up again. “And why would you do that?” I snap at him.

The space between his brows burrows slightly, seemingly confused by my harsh response. “Well, I-I,” He presses his lips together while his fingers pick at his nails. “I was worried about you.”

My eyes dart down to the carpet and try to ignore the way my heart swells at his words. I swallow hard and curl my fists at my sides. “Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

“Oh okay…” He trails off and lets his gaze drop to his fiddling hands and bouncy leg. “I just wanted to make sure, I guess.”

“Okay well, you’ve made sure. Now I really just wanna go to bed, if that’s okay with you.” I cross all of the two feet from the doorway to my dresser and forcefully yank the top drawer open.

He carefully lifts from the bed and meets me where I dig for clothes. “Nicholas.” His voice is gentle and full of concern, but no matter how much it should comfort me it just fans the flames of my resentment.

“What now, Noah.” I sigh harshly and turn to him.

“What did you mean at the fair?”

After the food adventures I had with Stella, it had almost erased what I had said from my memory. Too bad it couldn’t have done that to him too. I was really banking on him being too drunk to even remember. But I should know better than that – Noah and his very selective memory.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feign confidence and turn back away from him to focus on finding PJs. My chest and limbs fill with a feeling similar to sitting in the waiting room of a principal’s office. Suddenly, I’m small and the room triples in size while the oxygen rapidly depletes.

“You know what I’m talking about Nick.” His fingers gently grab my arm to turn my attention to him again. “Do you… not like girls? Do you think you’re-”

“Gah! No!” I all but spit out. The thought of what he was about to say makes me want to vomit all over again. “No, I’m not…that.”

“O-oh, okay…but if you were, you know you could tell me, right? You know you can tell me anything, like we’ve always done.” His voice is quiet and tender, even through the vodka I can still smell on his breath.

“Oh my god Noah.” I grasp at the air in frustration. “No. I just said it to, to throw you off. So you’d let me go, so you’d leave me the fuck alone.”

“Oh.” His hand slips from my arm and he takes a step away from me.

If this was any other night, after any other event, I would apologize, minimize it, and say that I’m just having a bad night. But it’s not any other night and I don’t have enough energy in my entire body to make more excuses.

My fingers dig into the bundle of PJs I hold, and my stare stays straight on his chest. “I just, want to take a shower and go to bed. Okay?”

“Right.” He sucks his teeth and nods. “Okay, enjoy your shower then.”

“I will, thanks.” I reply blandly, shoving the overflowing drawer closed.

-

The world seems much lighter now that the thick layer of carnival muck, the remnants of alcohol and vomit were washed down the drain. I scrunch my hair with a terry cloth towel while I walk to my room from the shower.

I’m confused to find my door cracked open with the big light still shining through the door. I spent almost an hour trying to get all the grime off and let the water ease the pulsing in my head. Surely, Noah wouldn’t still be up, it’s almost 3 am.

I quietly creak the door open to find the bed empty.

“Huh?” I whisper to myself and make my way over to the disheveled bed. Noah’s nowhere to be found, but instead there’s a plushy on his pillow. I hook my finger through the plastic carabiner attached to it and lift it to my eyeline. It’s a stuffed tuxedo cat with sunglasses that look similar to the knockoff RayBans I usually wear.

I look back at the pillow and notice there was a note beneath it. I pick it up and unfold it with the cat dangling on my pinky. 

‘Saw this at the fair and thought of you. 

Went to stay over at Kassidy’s so, you can have your room back for the night.

-N’

The breath that escapes from deep in my torso seems to deflate me completely. I knew the slip of up of my words the other day hurt him, more than I thought. A vine of thorns wraps around my throat, each guilt-drenched spike digs into my windpipe. He left because of me.

I take a precarious seat on the edge of the bed, holding each item in each hand. My palm aches to crush the note in my fingers but my eyes burn with salty tears too. All while the cat swells my chest in the saddest way possible. How could someone feel so many things at once? 

I have no screams, no yells, no sobs left in me and my body begs for rest. I can’t let myself wallow in whatever this is, how could I make sense of it now? When my brain is so hazy and my eyes are so sleepy. 

I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tiny bit of tears left in my eyes and set the note and the stuffed kitty on my bedside table. The bed creaks when I bury my knee into the mattress and let myself fall to the middle. 

The bed feels colder and emptier without him in it, but right now I’m not sure this is where I want him to be. 

I reach up to tug the lamp light off and pull the duvet around my shivering body. 

After about 20 mins of stirring with no hope of falling asleep, I give in and just stare into the stillness of the room. My eyes finally adjust to the darkness and start making a sort of mental inventory list counting all of the items scattered around my room that aren’t mine. I try to remember what the room looked like before he moved in, but I can’t.

While there are growing pains, I can’t imagine my room without him in it anymore. He’s tangled himself into the very essence of the space. 

Drawing my gaze across the room, I land on the kitty he’d gotten for me at the fair. I reach across the space and bring it to the bed, placing it in his spot. 

It fills a tiny void in the vast emptiness of the bed and for about 15 minutes I cling to the minor comfort it brings, believing it might help me fall asleep. 

I let out a frustrated sigh. The heaviness of the night drops onto my shoulder blades and finds refuge beneath my eyes. Once again a venomous coil tightens itself around my ribs.

It is mostly confusion that I feel, the only factor I can distinctly pick out. 

The only other one I can somewhat recognize is, loneliness. 

I glance back over to the cat and it dawns on me the possible reason I can't fall asleep. My fingertips tap rhythmically against the mattress cycling through my options until I find one. 

I wrap my thick duvet around my body and grab my pillow before shuffling down the hall. I gently tap my knuckle against her door then crack it open just a bit.

“Stella.” I whisper-yell into her room. “Stella.”

She shifts in her bed and cracks one eye open at me. “Hm?” She groans sleepily.

I let myself in and scuffle across the carpet to her bedside. “Can I sleep on your floor?” I request in a hush. 

“What? Why?” Her brows knit together with her eyes barely open. “What’s wrong with your bed?”

I chew on my bottom lip searching my brain for an answer that makes any sense but there’s only one. 

“It’s empty.” 

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @concretenoah @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks. I am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

#i have edited this so many times and it got so long #sorry if there’s errors or is bad idk 😭 #im honestly just really sick of editing and looking at it #longest chapter i’ve ever written for any of my series-es ever #as always lots of plot lots of dialogue #concreteburialplot works #intertwined series #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #noah x nick #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo smut #noah x nicholas #noah x nicholas fanfic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic

[blitz0hno]

Drabble about the whole mikotosys-night-terror chronicles cuz I don't get to write much.

Post trial 2: Mikoto, still deep in denial (although deep denial doesn't mean ur as unaware as you let on/feel all the time), cries himself to sleep again. He hates the long-time habit, but thinking about his life up to this point, especially now... It makes sense, and unfortunately a lot more starts to make sense too.

It was happening again.

Mikoto was laying on the bed in his cell, staring at the ceiling. It was the only time he knew which way was up these days.

And today had been long, and stressful.

Why must he be this kind of person?

Chained up and interrogated.... Es trying to explain why the words "I saved you" echo in his mind.... a fuzzy ringing in his ears overtaking seemingly every conversation he had with the warden; Mikoto did his best to be attentive but was purely pretending. He was sure he dreamed the crime he was accused of, sure of it. It wasn't real, he couldn't do that! He had a future to look toward, and even if some people in his life were holding him back, his urge for quick relief had been but a horror-movie fantasy. A place for his brain to put his anger so he couldn't find it.

He had always wondered where his emotions went when he made them disappear. It didn't look good that nearly every moment now felt like a dream, either.

Answering questions with pen and paper had been particularly difficult. He didn't remember much of that either. He remembered the first couple questions. He remembered waves of frustration flooding his train of thought. He remembered feeling sick when he realized it was over and he thought he had only answered two or three out of the twenty questions.

Mikoto had started off this strange "Milgram" experience intrigued, but the more he thought about the events that led up to this "reality show," the more scared he got. He had always been a forgetful guy, but felt confident enough in his ability to keep track of important things. School, work, home duties, everything was always nearly lined up in his thoughts. Sometimes he had strong feelings about a task, but he was easily able to power through. He was oddly proud of that ability, from his adolescence up to his office job.

Sure, he had been picked on for living outside the city and never going anywhere. But he was reasonably popular with girls and very on top of his grades, which made other students like him well enough he supposed. No reason to feel lonely with how busy he was anyway. Taking care of home with his mom and sister, making sure he remembered to eat and study before shifts, and cramming for tests had all paid off, hadn't it?

He had a career he was passionate about, an end goal, and a stable job at a famous company. Although this job was... Not as glamorous as he had hoped. Nonetheless, he had worked so hard for it. He wouldn't just throw it away.

Not even when his meal times got shorter and shorter.

Not even when his boss made him redo weeks of work on a whim.

Not even when 60 hour weeks turned to 80 hours.

Not even when he broke down and cried after coming home to an onslaught of texts informing him of a deadline being shortened yet again.

He needed to sleep. Without sleep, he became irritated easily, and hiding it with a polite smile always left him with a permanent lump in his throat, as if he could burst into tears at any moment but wouldn't let it happen. When it all got too loud, Mikoto knew how to put it away for later.

Now was later, and he was crying.

He wished people listened to him. If they got to be cruel with no consequences, chain him to one thing or another, tell him to come and sit and stay until 3AM doing paperwork, he should get a say too. A say in how he was spoken to, in his rest, in his mind, anything.

But he second-guessed himself every time, coming up with nothing and doubling down on his polite diligent worker persona.

His chest heaved as he sobbed. How pitiful and pathetic, if they saw him like this. And to think everyone was scared of him now, not only because he apparently really killed people, but now more things he didn't remember were coming up. Torn up clothing he had tried so hard to laugh about reporting to Es; but all the morning he couldn't stop himself from crying, even through his mask. He had heard from others in the past that he talked in his sleep, but the noises? The shredding and screaming and destroying?

That was all new.

And embarrassing.

And mortifying.

Mikoto had no memory of any of it. He thought and thought, but only recalled feeling overwhelmed, perceiving the stares and the body language around him as tense, and the rush of anxiety which was renewing itself again. Out of habit, he searched for the smile he always tried to force through the tears, even now that he was alone.

Another sob.

Alone.

And everyone knew it. His boss, his mom, his baby sister, his peers EVERYONE watched him go it alone, pushing and pushing and succeeding at any cost to himself. But that was the goal, too, to be left alone. Not screamed at, following the rules in place, breaking them if it meant a more pleasing outcome for his current audience. His breath picked up as he remembered every comment, every stare every sneer every nitpick EVERYTHING others did to belittle his hardest work. His sweat, blood, and tears turned into a cycle that kept piling more on his back.

He held his hands against his ears as his sobs turned to a choked wail. Again tonight, he felt like he couldn't stop himself. "I HATE THIS! I'm not smart enough to even remember what I do, not strong enough to even control myself! FUCK!"

Again his uniform shirt felt far too tight. The restraints he had become more used to were suddenly like snakes whose every movement he could feel through the fabric, writhing on his skin. Mikoto screwed his eyes shut and begged to disappear, pulling at the jumpsuit.

Then John screamed.

He tore, he ripped, he fell off the bed and threw himself against the wall as if it would give him more force against the restraints. He couldn't stop. He knew it was his fault, and he knew why it was his fault, but they were hurting Mikoto all the same.

John forcefully wiped the tears from his face. His breathing was ragged as he felt himself grabbing at his hair. This was bad.

He couldn't calm down. Mikoto was beyond upset, he was terrified. John's own anger and Mikoto's fear had them in a frenzy, their hands pulling at anything they could grasp. What could he do? He had to help Mikoto. After all, it was John's fault, John's anger, John's actions that caused him this agony. Mikoto wouldn't hurt someone like that. He couldn't!

"I COULD. I DIDN'T WANT TO!" A shriek escaped his mouth. John didn't feel like that words were his. He took a deep breath, one hand still keeping his hair in a death grip.

The other was over his mouth. John had heard enough of what the other prisoners were able to hear. He was sure that they would be punished if they were any louder; or maybe Mikoto was sure.

He just didn't know anymore.

"They were killing you," John whispered, voice strained. "Even if you didn't do i-"

The words caught in his throat, and John's breath hitched as he felt the world start to blur around him.

"I do remember that I wanted to," came a choked whisper from Mikoto. "I wanted nothing more. Those people - those men... My life was hell. I was too slow with turnarounds no matter how long I submitted before the deadline. They called me day and night like a dog to their side. And th- the way they spoke to me and my coworkers - realizing their contempt toward the working men alone but god the WOMEN-" He sobbed loudly, burying their head in his hands. "The- these are the people our baby sister gets to meet next. The ones our mom married, the ones who lie and cheat and demand and force- they should be GONE they SHOULD. BUT- but I never thought-" he trailed off, curled into a tense ball. He could hardly feel John anymore -

Oh god.

He could feel John.

Like another person in the room, he felt another presence almost by his side. Another sob turned into a laugh at the absurdity of it all. The warden had no dog - Mikoto did.

And it was himself.

And that's why there was another "him," blaming his newfound self for Mikoto's plans and actions.

He felt terrible, in a hundred different ways. "John, it wasn't your fa-" Mikoto stopped mid-sentence, torn between guilt for his other self and the terror of realization hitting. He pressed himself against the cold wall and breathed slowly as he could, suddenly overcome with a clammy, nauseous feeling.

It wasn't a dream.

Mikoto had been sick in his cell once before, during a particularly bad panic episode. He had cleaned it up well and told no one, but somehow he was still met with looks of concern and pity and fear ten times over the following morning. Damn thin walls. The already isolated prisoner was not about to let that happen again. He slumped against the wall, closed his eyes, and grit his teeth as the room spun, wanting only to sleep. If only he could shut down, wake up in his apartment and cry about his shitty day at his shitty job surrounded by shitty people that his shitty singular self did not kill.

The weight of that possibility leaving forever made him feel like he would never eat again.

John felt the pressure mounting in their head and body, powerless to help. Just behind front, able to listen to the perspective he'd been wishing to hear for so long, and unable to do a damn thing. After all the begging to be acknowledged, he still hadn't saved Mikoto. Not by a long shot.

They were both stricken with panic by now, John beginning to pace around the cell and breathing deeply to the point of pain. Anything to keep from spiraling, from causing a mess, from snapping again, from hurting someone or even needing them.

And then they froze, a third voice that felt equally unreal catching their attention. Difference was, she and another were outside themselves , and outside the door to their room.

"He's at it again..." John heard Kotoko sigh faintly, breathing shallow as he stood at a standstill. He was so at a loss that he forgot to be angry at her treatment of Mikoto. Mikoto wasn't a killer. John was. Leave Mikoto out of it, let him live without this pain. It's why John was here to begin with! Did he fail? Did he drive any other help away?

"Ugh. I'll wait here, as you requested. Give him this." John heard a small acknowledgement from Es as they took the mystery item. He flinched, bracing himself.

Were they chaining him up again? Drugging him? What did he get Mikoto into now??

Whether he knew it or not, Mikoto was feeling the same guilt towards John, ashamed for not having noticed and feeling cowardly for running from him.

"John..." Es brought the protector to attention, gently holding out a water bottle. He hadn't even registered that they opened the door. He stared for a second, feeling shamefully and ridiculously dog-like, but took the offering. "How did you know..."

"Because Mikoto puts on airs," Es replied plainly. "He would have forced a posture that was more relaxed, perhaps greeting me as 'Guard-kun.'" Their voice went up a tad as they imitated Mikoto's tone, first amusing and then startling John. Was the switch that obvious? Had he ruined any chance of Mikoto being normal again?

"So you can... You can tell. We really are that different?"

"Afraid so," Es replied. "John, do you two... Do you know how DID happens?" They stood across from him, gauging his reaction. John seemed to be struggling to stay grounded as he explained.

"We never thought we had any sort of amnesia... We once read that it happens when... Oh," John sighed. "I have no idea what happened. But I know... I know..."

"When a child is hurt badly over a period of time, in their very early stages-"

"Yeah I know how it goes." He snapped like John, but John felt the words come from elsewhere. The voice also sound absolutely defeated, the truth having come to reveal itself.

"Mikoto...?"

"..."

Mikoto felt.

He was aware, he knew what he was saying, but his voice was bitter and monotone. He didn't know what to feel. He just felt.

"I don't fuckin know anymore," he sighed. Es was not entirely convinced it was only him - his voice was cold, and while quieter than John's, Es wasn't even sure they had heard Mikoto curse before. Of course, Mikoto was subject to change as any other prisoner, and his demeanor almost reminded them of Fuuta's current state.

Mikoto took a deep breath, standing a little straighter. "I... Suspected it, when I heard about it from some class, and then forgot about it. But yeah, when a mother and a father hate each other, and possibly you, very very much... I know how it happens." His eyes darkened. "Life got better, I think, when Dad left. Mom wouldn't talk about him, and she'd get mad if I even said something that she thought he would... But I could tell she missed him. My baby sis seems okay for her age, on track development and all, but despite all the responsibility I could handle I could never quite get it right."

Es nodded thoughtfully. "So you were ridiculed and blamed for things you weren't even aware was upsetting to your parents? Did they take things out on you, because you were older?"

"I... I guess. I never thought it was that bad," Mikoto sighed. "But living on my own, I started to feel more and more disconnected. More angry, more paranoid... And I started having nightmares. I forgot about those for awhile too. When it started affecting my work, I even tried to forget I was stressed at all."

"Or rather, your mind helped you forget," Es mused.

"It should have stayed forgotten," the prisoner growled. "I can't believe I ruined everything, and I didn't even know it. John wanted to protect someone who forced him to exist because I COULDN'T protect me!" He pulled at the strap over his chest, struggling to keep composure. There was no trace of his fake smile.

"You didn't force anything," Es corrected him softly. "The brain is an organ that adapts to survive. Even had you known, it's not something that can be harnessed and commanded. It's adaptation." It was a simple matter-of-fact, complex as it was. Es hoped they had their facts straight now, anyway.

"So how do we go back to normal?!" Mikoto cried. His hands were shaking now and was sobbing again; he quickly realized how dizzy he was becoming. "I-I need to sit." He lowered himself back to the floor and slumped against the wall, arms childishly wrapped around his knees. He felt nothing but shame presenting himself this way. He was 23, he was a graphic design agent, a working man! He couldn't break down like this! He couldn't have it this bad! Even if he didn't even feel like himself at the moment, even if reality felt completely made up... "There's got- there's got to be a way to fix this."

To his surprise, Es didn't look at him with judgement or pity. The only thing that stood out was curiosity, and they gently sat beside him as they gathered their words. "It's not a matter of fixing, Kayano-kun. You all need... Healing," Es spoke carefully. They figured the nickname would do for now.

"Can't heal from a murder charge," the prisoner scoffed. Mikoto felt reality spin as John spat out his remark. John ran a hand through his hair, smoothing some parts and causing others to stick out awkwardly. "It's still my fault. Those urges, those feelings... They're mine to carry, to protect him from."

"John... maybe you can protect each other. Share the burden. It was one body and, according to Milgram, one prisoner. Maybe if you can forgive yourselves... Milgram will show me a better outcome for you both." That was the best Es could think of to help right now. To think it was upon them to say whether this man was forgivable; he had seen so much of the real world that they themselves had yet to remember, and they couldn't even imagine the stress of his perfectionist lifestyle on top of it all. They wanted to cry from how unfair it all was, but prisoner 009 was the priority right now.

As the warden... They had to do what they thought was best. They almost felt guilty for having Kotoko on standby, even though it was she who insisted. But that didn't mean Mikoto, or even John, was dangerous.

"I know I didn't do the right thing," Mikoto sighed, sitting up as he regained composure. "And it still doesn't feel real. I can almost feel the memory slipping again. It hurts, Guard-kun!" He gripped the sides of his head. Es instinctively reached gently for his hands to discourage him from pulling his hair out, and Mikoto flinched. He hit the barrier between them with his hands as he automatically covered himself.

"Shhh... Mikoto..."

"I'm sorry!"

"You didn't hurt me. I startled you," Es said. "Mikoto, you don't need to remember all the time. That's what your alter John, and any others there may be... Are for," they looked away, thinking bitterly about what may lie in their own memories. "It can hurt to remember, Mikoto. Sometimes it's even dangerous."

"I was dangerous when I didn't remember, too," Mikoto sniffed. "John... He wanted to protect us - protect me - so badly that we hurt a lot of things. Even you."

"Well as for me, Mikoto, my physical health is no worse for wear," Es replied. They were only partly lying - they were exhausted constantly, but John's outburst was long down the list of incidents by now. "I forgive you. Do you... Forgive you? Forgive John?"

"John... I barely know John..." Mikoto sighed, feeling defeated as the words he tried to form seemed to fade from his mind. "But I... I forgive his mistakes. I hope he can forgive me too." Mikoto then felt lightheaded again, but although his throat felt stuck and his chest was tight, his left hand gave a small thumbs up.

Es couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "Well, there you go."

Mikoto heaved a sigh, suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever. "Thank you..." He whispered. He began to cry again, but smiled a smile that seemed to come more from genuine gratitude than fear. "Thank you, Guard-kun. I know... John will be happier now. I'm... I'm really scared. But we don't have to be lonely."

Es stood up slowly, offering a hand to help him to the bed. 009 sat still on the floor for a moment, a small frown forming on his face as he took their hand. "It's... It's John." He whispered, although they were partly holding him upright, Milgram ignoring his presence and giving him away. It felt strange, announcing himself like that, but comfortable too. "I know we can't undo what we did... Thank you for helping Mikoto."

"You deserve help, too, John. Mikoto wants to be there for you, too," the small warden looked up at him with almost a sense of urgency, praying John wouldn't try to take it all on himself anymore.

"Well he can start..." John mused, "by not giving away my cigarettes anymore. How's that?"

"Oh yeah, he did tell me to stop giving those to him even if he asks. I think..." They almost didn't suppress a laugh as they walked the system to their cot; although the situation wasn't funny itself, it was an interesting process. "I think finding those over and over is when he knew he forgot more than he knew."

"Damn right..." John sat down on the bed, the body falling over nearly instantly.

"Goodnight, John-kun, Mikoto-kun," Es said softly, heading towards the cell door.

"Goodnight, and thank you again," John's low voice replied.

As they went out the door, they heard another.

"Oh! Goodnight, Guard-kun!" A soft whisper said from across the room. "...And thank you."

That night was the most restful sleep Mikoto's body had gotten in years. He almost felt like he could finally get used to this. He would never get used to "being a killer," though. He didn't know much about the social perception of DID, so he sure hoped that wasn't a general stereotype.

End.

#milgram #mikoto milgram #john milgram #milgram fanfic #character study #cw vomit mention #cw panic attack #cw rapid switching #? #idk if anyone needs that but it's there lol #cw mild self-injury (unintentional) #switching my be written confusingly but we did our best lol it's confusing on this end too #ambiguous third mikoto #longer than i intended but wasn't sure where it was going anyway lol #freeform yaaaaay #Es 009 siblings for life

[irismaebe]

Haaabia olvidado subirlo jajajajaja

Traduccion

Mabel: Me pregunto si le gusto...

Bill: No te odio entonces... si, me gustas, aqui no hay punto medio.

Mabel: Si, pero...

Bill: Sin puntos medios dije...

Mabel: Pero...

(aunque no lo parezca el detalle de la mariposa es importante)

#mabill #fanart #bill cipher #gravity falls #comic #bill x mabel #fanfic #mabel pines #my draws #Es divertido dibujar fics #Necesito leer mas en español #o quizas escribir...

[muubug]

Because Freedom Is A Privilege.

Es x Prisoner!Reader (GENDER NEUTRAL)

“Don’t expect much from this place. It’s a prison.” The warden’s footsteps flood the dimly lit corridors, a rabbit-like creature following at his side. “You no longer have the right to freedom, you’ll be caged up just like everyone else.” Keys jingle as a creaky metal gate opens, pressure pushes against your back as you feel like you’re falling into nothing, the last thing you see is their face.

That’s all you remember. Well, until the blinding lights awaken you, and there they are, the warden, towering over you as everything starts to make sense.

You’re stuck here now. No matter what you do, you can’t leave.

Es gently holds your face as they rub under your eyes, gently shaking your arm while whispering. Your eyes slowly open as you recognize their face.

“They’re up, be gentle with them or I’ll deal with you myself.”

They stand up, glancing at you before leaving the room, the sound of their footsteps echoing the room before the door slams shut.

“So you’re the new prisoner, huh? I’m Kashiki Yuno, it’s nice to meet you!”

She extends her hand out to you, helping you up as it seems as if everyone’s eyes are on you.

“Thank you, Yuno.”

“Of course! This is Kazui, we’ll be around if you need us!”

The man nods, following behind her as they leave.

You can’t tell how long you’ve been here after a while, days blend together and turn into what feels like months or years. You get along with the other prisoners fairly well, although since the first trial Kotoko’s become violent, Yuno’s become less social, Amane seems to hate Shidou now and Fuuta and Mahiru are more battered and bruised than ever, although somehow Mikoto’s fine but besides them, everyone’s changed, including you.

You don’t remember much from your interrogation, although you remember one specific moment. Es holding your face in their hands exactly like they did when they first found you.

“Freedom is a privilege, angel. Even if you’re a prisoner, I’ll do anything to give you that freedom back.”

#milgram #milgram x reader #reader x milgram #es x reader #warden x reader #fanfiction #fanfic x reader #muubug

[mihai-florescu]

Makoto.......

#what tea do you have please tell #'what fanfic are you reading' the official es novel #looking through my drafts found this...id like to know that information please tell makoto

[marmolady]

Grandchildren: Aurora

Summary: Endless Ending timeline. Middle-aged Taylor and Estela are entering a new phase of their life together, welcoming their grandchildren into the family. In four parts; this is PART FOUR.

Word Count: 4421

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading!

________________________________________

2061

Rosa smoothed out the gown with a hand. Her Mama Estela’s beautiful wedding gown, a gift from an old friend, Seraxa. Georgie’s wife, Taamina, had made the necessary alterations to accommodate seven months’ worth of baby bump-- something that Estela had insisted they try out rather than have Rosa write off her dream dress. Guilt remained over doing anything to change it at all when there were such precious memories attached….

“You look nervous. Are you nervous?” Luz, Rosa’s other best friend, had been by her side since early that morning.

Most of the Catalyst kids had gotten permission to bring their significant others in on the secrets of La Huerta… but Rosa hadn’t the need, Vaanti fiance and all. With her looking to spend as much time on the island as possible, Varyyn had suggested he consult with the elders to gain approval for her to share her world with Luz, who’d been close to both Rosa and Georgiana since their early school days. This was the result; Niala’rei was here, and Rosa would be wed with her two closest friends by her side.

“...I….” Of course, Rosa was nervous. The dress was, admittedly, a factor. A part of her felt it was too beautiful, the kind of gown a goddess would show up to a wedding in. Did she really have the confidence to pull off a dress like that? Her Mama ‘Stel had, twice. But that made Rosa feel like a mouse stepping into a warrior costume.

Somehow, though, Rosa didn’t look like the mouse she saw herself as; she looked proud and confident. Perhaps she held herself differently just with the knowledge that this was her heritage, that she belonged. Perhaps she held herself differently because of the baby… she’d always been more courageous for Leo’s presence, maybe this little one had helped her grow further.

This dress was both Vaanti and Montoya. There was no way she’d wear anything else as she made her vows to Homori.

She had to be the warrior queen. And her fight was with herself, because the greatest fear that lingered, the shadow that loomed menacingly over her, was her inability to speak the words she so needed to speak.

“Wo--oa--oah! I’m having some serious deja-vu right now-- talk about a blast from the past, doodlejumps!”

The appearance of Raj, all wide arms coming in for a bear hug made the skittish Rosa jump, but she recovered enough to take the embrace.

Rosa had hit it off with her larger-than-life Catalyst ‘uncle’ pretty much from the get-go-- even timid and fragile as she’d been back then. He had this magic quality… you couldn’t help but be at ease around him, and the young Rosa had gotten so much comfort from that warm and jovial presence. He’d made sure he had time in his busy schedule for her wedding, saying he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

She smiled shyly. “I had hoped it could fit,” she admitted. “After Livi wore Mama Taylor’s, I thought it would be nice to…. It’s like a family tradition now, isn’t it?”  

“Seems like it,” Raj said. “Gotta pull out the old Niala’rei gowns for a Montoya wedding. You know, when your moms made it official in San Trobida-- you know I basically ran that whole gig, right?-- Estela was pregnant too. We didn’t know it, though, early days. But still, maybe that’s a tradition too!”

“It might be now.”

“Well, it suits you.”

He joined the crowd bustling into the throne room, and Rosa was left alone with Luz. All those people who’d be watching… there was surely no way she could do this….

“You can do this,” Luz said warmly, supportive as ever. “Just… talk to Mori. Look at him, look at the big smile on his dorky face, and speak to him.”

Rosa had never not been able to talk to Homori. Her body trusted him, never felt the need to freeze up. Her childhood challenges with selective mutism had been more or less overcome, but every now and then, usually when she least wanted it to happen, all her words would get… stuck. She preferred writing. Her hand never failed her like her voice did.

She couldn’t screw up her wedding vows, though. There was much that needed to be said; how much it meant to her that she could pour her heart and soul out to Homori and know she was being heard, how he made her laugh more in just a day by his side than she would in weeks without him. How he was exactly the parent to Leo that she, growing up in care, would have longed for as a young child-- sweet, and tender, and encouraging, and loving without bounds. Rosa had to promise him a lifetime of love, given honestly and openly. She’d promise that she’d have his back as they took on the challenges of parenthood, of finding personal fulfilment side-by-side, and navigating the divide between their cultures. She’d share his dreams, cheer his successes as her own, knowing that her joys would be his in the very same way. She had to say all that, aloud, get the words in the right order, and… and….

Luz squeezed Rosa’s hand. “It sounds like they’re ready for you, babe.”

Placing a hand on her belly, Rosa took a deep breath. Breathing techniques had gotten her through some real panics in her time…. She could feel the movement of the baby, and it weirdly made her feel more capable. Yes, she was definitely holding herself stronger and prouder since this little kid came along. For her baby, and for Leo, and for her lovely Homori, she could do this. She could damn well say what she needed to say.

The hall was full. Couples getting married, friends and family there in love and support. Rosa had attended Niala’rei before; when Georgie had taken Faiyara’s hand. She’d imagined it then… having the guts to choose a life far removed from the one she’d grown up with. Stepping into that hall, she was proud. Her and Homori, they were going to make it.

Her breath rattling with nervous excitement, Rosa saw through the crowd that was her family, and her eyes met with Homori’s. Oh, Mori…. His eyes welled immediately, and his face was in his hands.

Rosa giggled as she reached him, and wrapped her fingers around his. They laughed together, tearfully jubilant to be there hand in hand, so close to ever after.

Maybe they’d both have trouble getting the words out after all. It didn’t even matter. They had one another, and they could take all the time they needed.

_________________________________

The front door was ajar, so Liv pushed it open and tentatively stuck her head in. “Hello, Rosa?”

“Auntie Liv!” came the bellow of the small child who charged smack into her legs. Leonel barely even blinked, but wrapped his arm around Liv’s-- probably soon to be bruised-- thighs.

“Oh, hey Leo,” Liv said, recovering quickly. She was used to being almost being bowled over by small children by this point. “I take it your mommy’s in?”

“I’m here!” Rosa said, bustling over. “Thanks for grabbing him-- Mo just went out to the workshop to grab the crib, and I’ve been trying to convince Leo to wait here with me.”

“No worries.” Liv placed down her bags, and scooped her nephew up in her arms. He was a cuddly kid, and she was enough of a novelty that her attention would distract him from getting under his dad’s feet. “I just wanted to drop by the few things I said about. I’ll send more as Bea grows out of things, obviously, but just little little clothes and sleep bags for now.”

She sat her younger sister down and brought her a cold refreshment-- and Leonel a pineapple juice in a sippy cup.

“You really didn’t have to,” Rosa said as she sipped gratefully. The heat was admittedly hard to handle this late in pregnancy, even with all the fans going.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to go back home to San Trobida without being totally sure you’re all right,” Liv admitted. “I know first-hand how hard it can be with a newborn, and you’re fresh off the back of a massive life change. I want… I want you to know that I’m here for you. Me and Jeimy. I know we’re swamped with our own kids, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have your back as well.”

Rosa nodded quietly, looking down into her glass. She didn’t want to put anyone out, she’d always struggled with that. Her early life she’d gotten through by making as few demands as possible, well, until she simply cracked. Asking for help was still something she had only found herself able to do with Homori, her moms, and very rarely, Luz or Georgie.

“Rosita, I want to be there for you,” Liv urged.

Rosa exhaled shakily, her breath making the surface of her colourful drink tremble. She placed it down, and looked to the side shyly.

“I am scared,” she said finally. “Not of being a mom again, because I love being a mom, it… feels like it’s what I’m meant to be doing. I’m scared of labour and the birth… you know my pain tolerance is laughable. I’m not… I’m not like you. I’m not tough.”

Liv scooched closer and took her sister’s hand. “I’d think you were batshit crazy if you weren’t crazy. Labour is off-the-charts intense. You’ll cry, and scream, and swear, and probably crap yourself. And it’ll be worth it.” She paused. “They do… have everything on hand to give you an epidural if you need one, right?”

Rosa nodded, wiping her eyes. It was a relief to share her fears with someone other than Homori. What had Mama Taylor always told her?-- ‘you’re allowed to take up space’. The space she took up with her anxiety did not need to be apologised for. Or so she knew in theory.

“Y-yeah. I wanted to try without, it’s not really a thing women here use much.”

“Well, good on you. Just… don’t let other people’s expectations sway you one way or another. You know your body and what you need, and you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

Rosa could feel herself blushing.

“Mommy!” Leonel said, “Can I show Auntie Liv my room? I have dinosaurs on my bed, she’ll pro’lly like the dinosaurs.”

“Sure, I like dinosaurs,” Liv said. “Shall we go for this tour?”

Grateful to have the glare of attention off herself, Rosa happily let Leo do his thing. He had his auntie by the hand, and enthusiastically showed her round. So, Rosa took the opportunity to put her head through the door and check in on Homori with the new crib.

“There!” he said, “we’re ready as we’ll ever be!”

Rosa could’ve danced at the sight of that crib, the ornamental fox designs at the head hand-carved by the daddy-to-be. It was just gorgeous, and its placement by the bed signalled that it would not be long until the new family member would be there with them. God, the wait was feeling like an eternity. Naturally, she ran to Homori and kissed him.

A little while later, Rosa and Liv were back in the bedroom, sorting tiny baby clothes into neat piles.

 “I’m so glad you’ve got Georgie with you on this when the time comes,” Liv was saying. “She knows her stuff.”

“She really does,” Rosa said, and she smiled. How lucky was she that her best friend happened to be a midwife? She couldn’t be in safer hands. “Sometimes I think she’s almost as excited about baby coming as we are.

Liv had to laugh. “It’s a good thing she’s going to have her own to keep her busy soon enough, or I reckon you’d have to prise her off the baby with a winch or something.”

Rosa chuckled, but then turned away. She had the best people in her corner, a far cry from what she’d come from. She couldn’t forget that feeling though, the aloneness, and it made letting go difficult. Liv would understand.

“I….”

The words caught.

“No rush, Rosi. You can take your time.”

“I have… Georgie. Helping. But she’ll have… she’ll have her own baby. I have Homori, and he’s everything.”

“Mo is an absolute freaking superstar,” Liv concurred. “Tio Diego would do anything for you as well, you know that, right? Varyyn too.”

Rosa looked at her hands, at the teeny, tiny babygro in them. Teeny and tiny, and representative of oh-so-much. “I… know that. Asking for help is… hard.” She laughed bitterly. “When I need help the most, I can hardly even string a sentence together.”

Liv frowned. “Maybe you could have a codeword to text or something? They want to be there for you-- they love you.”

It was hard to accept, even if logic told her it was true. Old insecurities were not Rosa’s friends.

“And I… I miss Moms.”

“Yeah. It’s a big change.”

“I know they’d drop everything if I needed help, but it still… scares me. I shouldn’t be scared of not living with my moms at twenty-six but I definitely am.” Rosa swallowed hard. “They said… they can stay on La Huerta as long as I need, but….”

“You’re not a burden, Rosita. Not at all.” Liv put an arm around her younger sister and hugged her close. “Worst case scenario? Moms get a month or two longer hanging out on paradise island. Mama Taylor will hang out with Tio Diego watching old episodes of Cinema Therapy and go on their little emotional journeys together. Mama Estela will teach Leony how to put the other kids in a headlock.”

Rosa snorted. “I guess they wouldn’t mind. Worst case scenario.”

“And you probably won’t even need that. You got this.”

_______________________________

There was a slight breeze. A welcome slight breeze, for it had been a muggy day even by La Huerta standards. Estela let her foot dangle.

Try and relax. It’s gonna be a long one.

She and Taylor sat on their porch swing-- it had been built and embellished with carvings by Homori who’d gifted it to them a year prior-- taking in the night, and resigning themselves to the anxious wait.

Rosa had been very afraid. Fair enough, Estela had thought, for childbirth was almost unimaginably painful. Rosi had never had a high pain tolerance. Estela did, and she’d found herself going to pieces in the agony that had preceded Liv’s entrance to the world. Her own instinct was to want to be near to Rosa, to help, but a plenty capable support team was doing that job. In all honesty, Estela had anticipated that Rosa would want her mothers there; she’d always needed their reassurance far more than Liv ever had, even into adulthood. Maybe it was a good thing that Rosa had other supports in place… her independence had certainly grown since Leo came along. Hell, she’d freaking blossomed.

Estela glanced down as her phone screen lit up.

‘6cm, looks like going into active labor. Starting to get a bit scary!’

“Oh, sweetheart…,” Taylor breathed. “That’s good. Good progress. Quicker than I was expecting, to be honest.” She sucked her cheek as she let Estela tap out an encouraging reply. “I’m selfish, but I miss her needing me so much.”

“You’re not selfish,” Estela said with a shrug. “You’d be selfish if you barged in, demanding she hold your hand. You can’t help your feelings, but you’re aware of them, so….”

“...so I guess I’m not making them anyone’s problem but my own. True. Well, apart from you.”

Estela looked her wife in the eyes and smiled gently. “It’s always comforting to know I’m not the only one having an internal freak-out.”

Taylor grinned. “We do our freak-outs as a team like the loved-up wives we are.”

She looked lovely out there in the moonlight, Estela thought. All full of hope and excitement, of tenderness for the frightened little girl who now existed only as a memory-- for Rosa had found her wings and soared.  Taylor was what she’d always been, a carer and protector, an inspirer and a confidant. She’d still be all of those things, but her role would change now as their children brought forth another generation. Time to be ‘grandma’.

Estela kissed her softly, heartbeat quickening at the tender caress of Taylor’s lips upon her own.

“You are never gonna not be needed,” she said in a hushed laugh. “Hermosa idiota.”

That made Taylor giggle. “I guess not.”

___________________________

Leonel jumped up and down on the springy old couch, punctuating his bounces with chanting. “We’ve… got… a… baby! We’ve… got… a… baby!”

In Homori’s arms, a golden-haired infant slumbered, oblivious to the excitement.

“Mind you don’t wake your sister.”

With an extra big bounce, Leo landed on his bottom, and grinned from ear to ear. “My baby sister! I can’t believe she’s gonna live with us now!”

“I know,” Rosa said, and she groaned as she sat down. “No more jumping, okay, sweetheart? I can barely believe she’s out in the world either.”

“She’ll get a name, right?” Leo asked. “We can’t call her ‘baby’ when she gets bigger….”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something, mijo.”

It was even slower than usual to get Leo into his pyjamas, and clean his teeth, and brush his hair. A new baby sister was a significant distraction. The baby joined the three of them in Leo’s room, sleeping through the two requisite bedtime stories, and still not stirring when her big brother gave her a very gentle kiss on the top of her head.

Eventually, though, Leo was settled, and his parents could spend some quiet time with the newest member of their happy unit.

“I guess the next challenge,” Rosa said sleepily, “what’s her name? I think it would be really nice to have ‘Luz’ as the middle after all she’s helped me out… but I’m pretty stumped on a first name. D’you think you can come up with a short-list?”

Homori’s eyes were shining with love for the small infant snuggled against his bare chest. “She should have a human name-- English or Spanish-- like her brother. It’ll be easier for her to keep her secrets if her name does not attract attention.”

Rosa frowned. He was right, but it didn’t sit well. Their little girl was to be raised by a Vaanti father, she had a right to the cultural heritage that came with that. They could maybe even get away with some Vaanti names-- it wasn’t as if humans didn’t get creative when naming their kids, no one would necessarily suspect anything….

“Or,” Homori said, picking up the vibe his wife was giving off, “she could have a Vaanti name and a human name. Maybe we could give Leo a Vaanti name too. Even if they don’t always use them, it would be kinda nice for them to have.”

“Maybe,” Rosa said, thoughtful, “you could come up with some Vaanti names, and we’ll look up human names with an equivalent meaning.”

They sat together on the bed, poring over baby name websites, and a book of names they’d gotten out from the library in The New Celestial weeks ago. Rosa and Homori were on a mission; their baby girl was going to have a name before the night was out.

“Something bright and optimistic,” Homori pondered. “I quite like ‘Tahiyya’, which represents a hopeful future. ‘Hiyya’ is ‘future’, and ‘Tah’or ‘Taa’ is something you add on the front of a word or name… like a positive thing.”

“What does Taamina’s name mean?”

Taamina was the child of a close friend, who frequently played with Leo.

“‘Mina’ is like… ‘to dance’. So, I guess like a dance of happiness.”

“That’s cute! Pity that one’s taken by a close friend.”

Homori chuckled. “We’ll find her name.”

Rosa clicked her tongue. “Okay, names meaning ‘future’….”

She searched for five minutes, then ten. “Nothing really jumping out, to be honest.”

“‘Laniira’ is the name of the first Elyyshar, who brought our people together from across the island at a time of trouble. I’m not sure of the full meaning, but ‘niir’ is ‘sunrise’ and the ‘a’ sound is feminine. Something beautiful beginning… that’s pretty nice as meanings go.”

That was pretty nice. “Like ‘dawn’ or something….” Rosa pondered. Or how about…. “What about ‘Aurora’? Our new day. Her Vaanti name could be Niira.”

Homori beamed. “That’s it! That’s her name!”

The baby began to stir and whine, woken by his excited cry.

“Oops-- I’m gonna… I’m gonna have to get the hang of being enthusiastic quietly….”

Rosa couldn’t help but laugh. “And this is the kid who slept through ‘Hurricane Leo’.”

“Hurricane Leo is no match for over-excited Daddy Mo!”

Having picked up the freshly named Aurora and begun gently bouncing her upon her arm, Rosa looked up at Homori and grinned from ear to ear. To think she once couldn’t see herself ever so much as having a family… now her family, and the love they shared, just kept growing.

Somewhere along the line, she’d gotten so lucky. And Aurora, and her whirlwind Leony, would never know fears like the ones she’d had.

_____________________________

2062

“Abuela, Abuela!” Sol cried as he ran, feet pounding on the sand.

Taylor grinned, looking up from her drink to meet her wife’s eye. “You’re wanted.”

Estela got to her feet and began limbering up. “Ready to lose, mijo?���

“’Stel! He’s only six! You’re gonna go easy, right?”

“And I’m sixty-five. Pretty damn fair if you ask me.”

Sol grasped his grandmother’s hand and led her to the firmer sand. He pointed up the beach. “To that banana tree that’s sticking out down there-- you see it?”

“I’m racing too!” Andi hollered, dropping her arepa con queso in her hurry to be included. She rarely beat her brother in a running race, but she didn’t tire of trying. Then, tagging along behind her was Leonel-- just another one of the ‘big kids’ as far as he was concerned.

“On my signal….” Raj announced, and he picked up a napkin to hold in the air. “Aaaand… let her rip!”

He dropped his arm, and the four were off… with Estela perhaps going a little easy on her grandkids.

Taylor watched with a smile on her face and in her heart. A more perfect way to spend a day she couldn’t think of; Aurora’s first birthday, and a lively picnic surrounded by loved ones. Joining the Montoya clan, Raj had flown in; he’d taken up the role of ‘cool great-uncle’ with Leo and Aurora as if he was born for no other purpose, though he had Diego as stiff competition. Michael and Conor had joined him; Michael never missed a birthday of one of his donor kids. Rosa’s close friends Georgiana and Faiyara had joined the celebration with children Niraea and Rauan in tow, and Homori’s father had trekked down from Colonnade Cove to be there to commemorate the birth of his granddaughter.

Diego, naturally, was right by Taylor’s side.

“How’s it even been a year?” he asked incredulously. “Look at her-- she’s walking. Walking, Taylor!”

“That’s all of them,” Taylor laughed. “All of the grandkids walking, all walking straight into mischief.”

“You reckon Rosa’s done?”

“Yeah, she seemed pretty certain.”

“I’m not surprised,” Diego commented. “She and Mori seem really content. Rosi always talks about all these things she’s excited to do... easier once all the baby-having’s out the way.”

“You’re not wrong. She’s happy, and she’s just growing into herself more and more.”

“Five grandkids… not a bad effort.”

“Not bad at all.”

Having sat herself in the middle of the largest picnic blanket, Aurora seemed to know she was the centre of attention. All these people around, all the hubbub that came with a party, and she took it all in her diminutive stride.

“She looks like you,” Diego noted with a laugh. “Everyone else revolving around her.”

“Hey! I know I’m not the centre of the universe!”

How could Taylor not smile? So much of the people she loved in those five children, and each of the five was something unique and precious all on their own. Little pieces of stardust, brightening their family’s world.

Sol had joined Aurora on the blanket, and was cuddling Beatriz in his lap-- even as the toddler made a bid for freedom and for the oh-so-tempting cupcakes set out on the camp table. Still out on the sand, Andi was giving Leonel ‘whizzies’, holding him under his armpits and swinging him wildly around in circles until she collapsed dizzily. And Aurora was just taking it all in; chewing on her teething ring, and watching the antics of her friends and family with quiet curiosity. Every now and then, someone-- her mom and dad, of course, had a particular knack for this-- would catch her eye and smile or pull a face, and she’d come alight with a giggle.

“You know what you’ve gotta do?” Diego prodded. “Grannies and grandkids selfie!”

It wasn’t always going to happen that they’d all be together, Liv’s and Rosa’s lives being in different places. Yeah… they should take a picture.

Estela needed little convincing, and she swiftly herded up Leo-- who rushed over to snuggle with Grandma Tay-- and Andi --who was grabbled and dangled upside down as she laughed hysterically.

“You,” Taylor gushed as she squeezed her little Leo, cuddled up on her lap. “Are. So. Huggy!”

“Hugs are good!” he declared.

Hugs are good, Taylor concurred, as birthday girl Aurora came over with wide arms to join in.

Liv held up her phone to take a picture. “Mom, you’ve got Andi-Pants the wrong way up! Didn’t they ever tell you how to correctly assemble a kid?”

The giggling, squirming Andi was eventually tamed, leaning up on one side of Estela’s lap, while Sol took the other. Perched between them, of course, was baby Bea-- a little bewildered by the bustling around, but taking it in her stride.

Over the top of Aurora’s head, Taylor caught Estela’s eye and they shared a smile. Sometimes, it was necessary to take a moment and really marvel in the beautiful thing they’d made together. The odds faced, the fight for their lives… somehow it was a million miles away now. And ‘happy ever after’ just seemed to keep on coming.

#endless summer #playchoices #estela montoya #estela x mc #liv montoya #rosita montoya #es fanfic

[mercedes-lenz]

nicht nur hat lenz eine fanfiction über deutsche literatur geschrieben (Pandaemonium Germanicum), nein, er hat goethe und sich reingeschrieben und absolut gay gemacht

H1 (= Lenz' Handschrift, erste Fassung) J.M.R. Lenz. Werke und Briefe in drei Bänden. Bd. 1. 1987

wo fängt man da an wo hört man auf ???????? es macht mich rot tbh. die fassung ist entstanden als die beiden sich gerade in straßburg kennengelernt haben. er hat im selben jahr noch ne zweite fassung gemacht und die stelle revidiert:

H2 (= Lenz' Handschrift, zweite Fassung) Jakob Michael Reinhold Lenz. Werke. Dramen Prosa Gedichte. 1992.

aber honestly ? bleiben wir zusammen. ok.

#es braucht endlich einen ship namen für die beiden #sorry an alle schoethis aber ihr werdet nie an das level rankommen auf dem lenz x goethe truther arbeiten #mit offizieller lenz x goethe fanfic #jmr lenz #goethe

[hsdreamling]

Lo conocí una noche y lo llevé a la cama 💃

#esto es para mis amores de dreamling con ñ #a quienes adoro y solo veo de lejos porque me da pena hablarles aJAVJZVAKVDA #les amo mua mua #anywasssss #esto cuenta como angst? idk #siento que parece sacado de un fanfic ajxvdkavd #dreamling #dreamling con ñ #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman #the sandman netflix

[good-beanswrites]

Added my Double drabble to Lights, Camera, Sing Your Sins! I snuck it into chapter 2 so I figured I'd make a quick post with it here :)

“Hey, stop bumping me.”

“You’re bumping me – I can’t see!”

“Just scooch over.”

“My toes!”

Mikoto looked back at the group of prisoners huddled around him, packed tightly so that they could peer over his shoulder at the monitors. His hand paused from where it had been sweeping the stylus around, rearranging his latest creation.

“It’s not that exciting guys,” he laughed. “Let me at least show you some of the finished pieces, I’m sure this is boring…” 

Not that the other pictures were that exciting, either. He pulled up the other frames he’d been busy editing. There came a chorus of oohs and ahhs, but Mikoto knew it was just out of obligation. He flicked through a few of them as quickly as he could.

It was the type of art he loved to do (with some input from Red now and then) but it didn’t really suit any of the other prisoners’ tastes. He’d heard enough questions about his field to know it wasn’t all that impressive to most people. 

Sure enough, Kazui squinted at the screen. “You made all these?” he asked. “Like, you drew them?”

“Er…in a way. I drew some of the elements, and had to do some work to make the effects look right. And the color coordination takes time too.” He scratched the back of his head. “I know it doesn’t look like much…”

When he glanced over, though, Kazui’s expression was one of awe. “No, no, you’re very talented!”

Haruka’s finger tapped the screen. “Can you go back to that one?”

Mikoto clicked back to a photo of himself sitting on one of the train benches. It was meant to depict Red, made abundantly clear by the blood spatter, colored eyes, and savior label that had been placed with much deliberation. Blue had insisted on it, though Red only agreed with the addition of quotations. Their guilty verdict had been crushing for both of them (though not wholly unexpected), so it was important to show all sides of them, now.

Although it had been one of his favorites when working on it, he suddenly wondered if his personal flair had gotten out of hand. It was hardly distinguishable as the original shot, with too many textures and additions obscuring everything.

Fuuta whistled. “Man, that looks sick. You should have done my video…”

“Mine too!” Mahiru said. “I love the bright colors you’re using in all of these. And the paper and ink just looks so crafty!”

Kotoko leaned in to get a better look. “I really like the focus on the eyes here.” 

“O-oh, thanks!” He could feel his chin lift at the commentary. “I got the idea a bit ago… it’s kind of a running thing now? I drew some of them here –” he scrolled though a few frames. “And a scribble over the face here to keep the theme going. Little ones here, a string of them like this. Heh, I drew about a thousand different eye designs to get any actually liked. Then I have these big ones, see? I’m debating on including a blue version, too, but maybe I’m going overboard. I think Jackalope might have a heart attack, seeing all this crap.” 

“He’ll get over it.” Yuno answered his joking smile with a genuine one. “I’m so glad you’re having fun with these. It’s all very… you.”

Mikoto’s gaze fell onto the last frame he’d pulled up: another messy one of Red filled with pink and blue, with the text save you repeated nearby.

“It’s both of us.”

#milgram #mikoto kayano #and technically everyones there too but they dont say much individually #using my headcanoned names of Blue and Red like in chapter 1 (in the hopes i can introduce Green in t3 🤞🤞🤞) #i tried really hard to sneak in a john reference but since this happens months before and es is the one to come up the name it didnt work #i just wanted to show mikoto finally using his art as an outlet rather than it being a career burden like double showed ;-; #and i need them to interact!!!! and look out for each other !!! #bare minimum be aware of each other!!! 😭 #im so crushed that bokukoto is still in the dark after all this #RIP deep cover delay btw -_- im so glad the animation team is taking the time they need though #fanfic #lights camera sing your sins

[concreteburialplot]

new nicholas fic coming soon … 🩵

i think this is the first time i’ve ever written straight fluff [w smut] without a single drop of angst

&i only ever write angst ??? who am i ???

Posted now -> Delicate Beginning Rush 💫

#i don’t post a lot outside of my series(es) so this is big for me #and i don’t ever write FLUFF #and this is FLUFFY #SOOO FLUFF #he just makes me so soft 😭 #anyway these pics are nick’s vibe in the story 🥰💘 #nicholas ruffilo x reader #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nick ruffilo fanfic #nick ruffilo x reader

[solaradastra]

Es ist “Die Kälte der Erde”-Zeit, Spoiler kündige ich allerdings immer vorher an. So wie diesen hier: SPOILER unterm Cut.

Adam: “Schlaf gut, Tiger.”

Leo: “Miau.”

#mein voller ernst #glaubt es ruhig #die kälte der erde spoiler #tatort saarbrücken spoiler #die kälte der erde #tatort saarbrücken #spatort #tatort #hörk #sowas von hörk #das ist fanfic pur #myedit

[amugoffandoms]

woah it's day one of milgramtober guys are you ready for my snippets

please enjoy haruka with candy corn and es, yuno, fuuta, muu, and mikoto joining him today :]

"U-um..." Haruka stares at the bowl of white, orange, and yellow triangles placed randomly on the common room table. "W-who brought this...?"

"Muu asked Es to get us something from overseas, like candy or something. Muu guesses they left it here." Muu picks up a piece and eats it.

"Pretty sure it's candy corn." Fuuta shrugs as he pops a piece of "candy corn" into his mouth. "I saw a lot of it online from people overseas."

"Oh, yeah." Yuno nods. "Some people used to give some to me."

Haruka tilts his head at the bowl. "Um... okay."

"Hey, wait. Haru, have you never had any candy corn?" Mikoto throws some candy corn into his mouth, some of it bouncing off his face.

"I've had cotton candy, is it like that...?" Haruka asks.

"Ehh, sorta..." Fuuta shrugs. "Here, just try some."

Fuuta picks up some candy corn and places it into Haruka's hand.

"If it helps, it tastes like vanilla." Yuno explains.

"Oh... vanilla... um, okay." Haruka hesitantly picks up a candy corn from his hand.

The common room door swing open, spooking everyone inside a little.

"Good afternoon, everyone."

"Suu! You scared us–" Mikoto rubs the back of his neck.

"Does anyone know where I left that bowl?"

"The bowl of candy corn...?" Muu asks hesitantly.

"Yes." Es nods. "Do you have it?"

"Ah, we were eating out of it..." Mikoto nervously laughs.

"Oh." Es walks over to Haruka and picks up the bowl near him. Glancing inside, they sigh with relief. "Good."

"Huh? What was wrong with the bowl?" Yuno blinks as she looks inside and finds nothing.

"Oh, you better not have drugged these with some sort of sleeping thing or I swear–!!" Fuuta huffs and begins pacing around.

"No, I was worried Jackalope's fur had shed into the bowl. He mentioned putting the candy corn Muu requested into the bowl earlier, so I needed to make sure there was no fur..."

"E-eh??" Haruka stares at the bowl and at the piece of candy corn he's holding.

"You'll be fine, Haruka." Es stares with the bowl still in hand.

"Um... okay. I t-trust you..." Haruka slowly places a piece of candy corn in his mouth and eats it. "O-oh...!"

"Wasn't that bad, right?" Mikoto grins.

"It's... sweet." Haruka smiles softly.

"Well, of course it is. It's candy corn!" Fuuta almost throws his hands up before Yuno gives him a look and he grumbles. "I'm glad you like it, though."

"Muu is glad, too! Haruka never seems to smile anyways."

"Hehe... yeah... I like this." Haruka nods as he picks up a couple more candy corn from his hand to eat.

"Well, I'll leave you to it, then." Es places the bowl back down and turns back to the door.

"Hey, wait, Suu!" Mikoto waves his hand.

"Hm? What is it, Mikoto?"

"Come on, try some!"

"Yeah, we haven't found out if you like this, too!" Yuno nods.

"C'mon, the Warden can't be afraid of a little piece of candy corn." Fuuta smirks.

"Fuuta!" Mikoto groans.

"Kidding, kidding!" He throws his hands up in defense.

"Fine. Since you insist." Es walks back to the table and picks up a piece of candy corn. They look at it before eating it.

All watch Es as they eat it.

"...it's fine." Es mumbles.

"Hm...? Are you sure you're not trying to spare our feelings...?" Muu asks.

"I mean it. It's okay. It's not my favorite thing I'd snack on, but I guess I wouldn't mind it." Es shrugs.

"Well, since you're here." Mikoto places a hand on Es' shoulder. "Come hang out with us!"

"What–"

"I know you have work to do, but it's good to take a break." Mikoto looks at Es.

Es looks around the table. Everyone else seems to give their approval or don't seem to care (mostly Fuuta). Haruka is the only one not looking up. "What about Haruka?"

Haruka slowly breathes before looking up. "...I think it would be o-okay..."

The Warden was nice. They were nice. They had to be because they forgave Haruka, right? So, they have to be nice.

"See, everyone's letting you hang out with us." Mikoto grins. "So, take a seat!"

"Alright, alright..." Es sighs and sits down. "What are we going to do?"

"Well, I was thinking of throwing candy corn into our mouths, but that sounds boring..." Mikoto thinks.

"We could throw it into each other's mouths as a little game. Whichever team gets enough in each other's mouth gets the last piece of desert Mahiru makes for us tomorrow." Yuno suggests.

"Oh, you're so on!" Fuuta grins. "Yuno's my partner."

"Alright then! I wish you four the best of luck." Yuno grins back.

"Fine then. Suu is my partner." Mikoto slams the table, causing Muu and Haruka to almost jump back.

"I'm sorry, what–" Es stares at Mikoto.

"Um... I guess that leaves Muu and I together." Haruka glances at Muu, who gives him a soft smile.

"Muu thinks this will be fine, don't you agree?"

Haruka grins.

"Yeah...!"

#mug draws #mug writes #milgram #milgram fanart #milgram fanfic #milgram fanfiction #haruka sakurai #sakurai haruka #milgramtober2023 #es milgram #yuno kashiki #muu kusunoki #kusunoki muu #mu kusunoki #kusunoki mu #im about yo annoy the masses with this snippet BSHDBFJHF #kayano mikoto #mikoto kayano #please enjoy my simple doodle #i cant draw like big pieces of art because theh usually take me an hour to do and ive been doing other stuff besides #milgramtober and whumptober #i hope the snippet is a good replacement for a big piece of art shdfjfu #HOW DID I FORGET TO TAG THE MAIN TAG