#and every time I open the cabinet in my bathroom it startles me

[tj-crochets]

The absolute funniest conversation I have ever had with a doctor is hands down my last visit to my dentist back in California. Over the course of the conversation, as the dentist nurse* grew progressively more bemused (and slightly horrified), the dentist said things including but not limited to "you have a tiny little bird mouth" and "if you were an animal, you'd be a fox" (the dentist nurse at this point made a "wtf" kind of noise) and the dentist hastened to clarify "in a good way! You seem clever, not like a trickster". She also said she herself would be a hummingbird. I spent the entire appointment trying desperately not to laugh while they were working on my teeth *dental hygienist??? assistant dentist????

I've got another thing to add to my list of top five funniest things doctors have said to me: My latest test results came back, and I now have a document saying I have, and I quote, "unremarkable hands"

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 10) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.0k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Background Relationships; Referenced Medical Appointments; Suggestive Comments; Mentions of Nightmares; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: After your next appointment, you buy Jake a present.

Series Master List

Master List

With your pregnancy now completely out in the open, as well as your relationship with Jake, you felt more at ease than you had since you found out that you were pregnant. 

At the beginning of your relationship with Jake, the rush of seeing him when you knew you shouldn’t was a something that you chased. And while your partnership evolved, the sense that your relationship needed to be hidden never faded. 

But now, you were enjoying this new, open phase. 

It was Saturday morning when you woke up in Jake’s bed. You slept over at his apartment a few times now and each night went smoother than the last. 

Your clothes started to appear in Jake’s closet. And you wore Jake’s sweatshirt when you were cold—the one that he gave you before that you were forced to give back. Your set of bright mugs were in the cabinet, since Jake only had one whole mug in his apartment. You had your shampoo and conditioner in Jake’s shower. And a framed picture of your ultrasound was up in the living room.

Opening your eyes slowly, you sighed when you found that Jake wasn’t there. You rested your hand on Jake’s side to find it cold. He always went out early for a morning run on the weekends. And since you didn’t hear the shower or smell coffee, you assumed that he was still out. Letting out a sigh, you rolled onto your back and rested your hand on your bump. 

“You better not be a morning person, you hear me?” you warned your unborn child. 

Getting out of bed, you walked out into the kitchen, thinking about what to make yourself for breakfast. You started towards the fridge when you saw a small paper bag on the table. Curious, you padded over and read the note on it. 

Hopefully it’s not too stale by the time that you find this. I’ll see you soon. - J

Smiling to yourself, you opened the bag and felt your stomach instantly growl when you pulled out a glazed donut. Lately every couple of days, you really craved a glazed donut. It was almost on a cycle and Jake seemed to be counting the days to know when to offer you one. 

Taking a bite of your donut, you moved to grab some yogurt and fruit to balance it out. You sat on the couch, scrolling on your phone when the door unlocked and Jake stepped inside. 

And then what you were craving most was not the donut. 

Jake chose to run shirtless with shorts that hung low on his hips as sweat slowly slid down his chest. The clack of your teeth together when you missed the last bite of your donut startled you out of your daze. Shoving the rest of the donut into your mouth sheepishly, you offered Jake an awkward smile. 

“How was your run?” you asked softly.

“Fine. I took a longer loop than usual,” Jake stated, tapping his phone to end his playlist. Pulling off his earbuds, Jake walked further into the apartment and sat on the end of the couch by your feet. “Did you just wake up?” 

“Maybe,” you replied, reaching for your morning tea. “Thanks for the donut.” 

“It’s on my route,” Jake assured you. 

He was about to stand up to go shower when he decided to stay a moment longer. Gently placing his hand over your bump, like he did every morning that you woke up together, he gave your bump a few light brushes before standing up again. Jake glanced down at your bump one last time before he turned and headed out of the room. 

With your body still warm from his proximity, you turned back to your meal. When you were done, you slowly got up from the couch. Walking into the bedroom, you started to pick out an outfit for the day. The door to the bathroom opened, but you didn’t turn around, knowing it was for the best. You kept your back to Jake as he rifled through the dresser, pulling out a pair of shorts.

“I was thinking that we should run some errands today,” you stated softly, reaching for the bottom of your shirt. 

“What do we need . . .?” 

Jake trailed off as you pulled your—his—shirt slowly over your head, revealing the expanse of your bare back. You turned slightly to the side, causing Jake to whip his head around again, knowing that he had to be careful otherwise your conversation was going to get all the more awkward. You picked up your bra from the space in front of you and continued. 

“Just some little things. And maybe unpack some more here or maybe pick up some more of my stuff. I should honestly start looking at getting maternity clothes.”

Jake finished getting dressed as you let out a curse. Turning urgently to you, Jake swallowed thickly when you spun around with just your bra and tiny sleep shorts on. Finally lifting his eyes to your face, he noted your annoyed expression. 

“What’s wrong?” he coughed out. 

“My bras don’t fit anymore. Pregnancy is just making my boobs grow,” you huffed with frustration. “I’m just spilling out of them at this point.”

“Oh,” was all Jake managed. “Well, I’ll just wait for you out in the kitchen.” Closing the door behind him, Jake let out a sigh and rubbed his face with his hand. “Fuck.”

~~~~~

Pulling up to the obstetrician office, you checked the time before reaching for your phone. You clicked on Jake’s name and put your phone on speaker. 

“Hey, you’re at the office?” Jake asked, answering the call. 

“Yeah, I just pulled in. I wanted to call you before I went in.” you stated. “How’s it going?”

“Fine. Just waiting around right now. How are you feeling?”

“It’s less scary than the first one, but I think I’ll be nervous about these things until the end.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there,” Jake apologized for the thousandth time. 

“It’s fine, Jake. You’ll be at the twenty week one, anyways. Don’t stress about it. Just focus on coming back down in one piece.” Grabbing your purse, you slid out of your car. “I’ll leave you a voicemail when I leave here.”

“Sounds good,” Jake replied, sounding a bit far off. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah, your place? I’ll pick up something after I’m done here.”

“I won’t turn down a warm meal,” Jake spoke with a smile. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

You bid your goodbyes before hanging up. Smiling to yourself, you tucked your phone into your bag before walking into your doctor’s office. 

On base, Jake moved to put his phone away in his locker. Passing some of the other Daggers, Jake paused when he saw Rooster standing in the locker room. The two men had a brief staring contest before Jake walked over to his locker. Tucking his phone into a safe spot, Jake was about to head out when Rooster broke the silence. 

“You’re not at her appointment?” Rooster asked, causing Jake to shoot him a look.

“I didn’t have a choice. Just like everyone else here today,” Jake all but snapped back at him. “You would know that if you looked beyond this stupid grudge that you keep holding.”

“It’s not a grudge, it’s an instinct,” Rooster stated, shutting his own locker door. He walked over to where Jake stood, causing the two men to have a staring contest again. “You’re a really good actor, Hangman. But I’ve seen your games before. And I know how this ends.”

Rooster shot one last look at Jake before heading out of the locker room. Jake forced himself to take a breath so that he didn’t knock Rooster’s teeth out before he headed out too. 

~~~~~

“Hey, Jake, I just got out of my appointment. Everything is normal and healthy. I set my twenty week appointment and I’ll text you the date and time so that you can request it off. And I’ll see you tonight.”

Hanging up the phone, you walked out to your car and started driving back to your apartment. Over the last week or two, you started to clean out your apartment and settle into Jake’s. You already sold some furniture and were in the process of cleaning out your closet, slowly but surely starting the new phase of your life.  

Humming to yourself, you came to a stop at a light and looked over at the stores lining the way. Your eyes landed on the baby store that Sarah Kazansky recommended to you and in your post-appointment high, you decided to stop in and browse a little. 

For research purposes.

You slowly stepped into the store, looking around with bright eyes. It was fairly large. Not a department store large but bigger than whatever the hell a boutique was. You looked through the items and you quickly found yourself in the baby clothes section. And any chance of a quick stop went out the window almost immediately. 

But you told yourself that you could only buy one onesie for now. Penny and Emma were already talking about throwing you a baby shower around the start of your third trimester. And you wanted Jake to be part of the experience. Or at least there to remind you about being reasonable with your purchases. 

Looking through the options, you browsed and thought about which onesie to buy when you saw one with a plane on it. And, of course, you had to pick that one. 

It was a light gray onesie and soft to the touch. And on the front was the simple slogan of ‘Daddy’s Co-Pilot,’ which you were hoping Jake would appreciate. Rubbing your thumb along the material, you smiled to yourself and decided to get it. Texting Jake that you had a surprise for him, you moved to make a purchase. 

~~~~~

Jake didn’t get to hear your message or read your text until about two hours later, and by that point, he just wanted to go home and flop down onto the couch. He and Rooster managed to not shoot each other down, but their arguing up in the air resulted in a long discussion with Cyclone that Jake didn’t want to relive. Grabbing his phone and his bag, Jake headed out to his truck as quickly as possible.

“Hey,” you answered his call. “You just got out?”

“Yeah, it was a long day,” Jake replied, deciding to keep the part about him and Rooster arguing to himself. “I just got out. How’d the appointment go?”

“Fine, everything was normal and healthy.”

“That’s good. Does that make you feel calmer about going into your next one?”

“Yes and no. Next one had a lot of extra tests and measurements and everything, but if everything’s looked normal and healthy so far, it should still be that way in three weeks. I’m hoping anyway.”

“You’ll both be fine,” Jake assured you. “Hey, what was that surprise that you texted me about?”

“I think you answered your own question. It’s a surprise, Jake.”

“You’re not pregnant with twins or anything that would give me a heart attack, right?”

“No, Jake, you only managed to knock me up with one baby,” you mused as Jake slowly slid into his truck with a genuine smile. “I made dinner too.”

“I’m leaving now.”

“Alright, see you in a little bit. Bye, Jake.”

“Bye.”

Jake started his truck and headed back to his apartment, a little bit of weight off his shoulders. By the time that he got home, you were standing in front of the oven. You shot him a smile and turned to greet him. Jake accepted your hug gratefully and dropped his hand down to feel the growing curve of your bump. 

“How was work?”

“Exhausting,” Jake replied quietly. 

“You look like it.”

“Thank you.”

You laughed and pulled back from the hug, though Jake’s hand lingered on your bump. Turning away from him, you walked around the kitchen and grabbed the little gift bag and brought it over. Jake took it with a questioning look and slowly pulled out the onesie. You watched as Jake unrolled it and read the simple phrase on the front. 

“Do you like it?” you asked, playing with your fingers. “If not, I can—”

“—I love it,” Jake interjected, still staring down at the onesie with an edge of awe in his tone. “I just . . . it’s so . . . small.”

“That’s the newborn size.” 

Jake grabbed the tag and flipped it over. He knew babies were small, obviously. But holding the onesie, Jake, for the first time, realized just how small your baby was going to be. And then he realized that they were even smaller right now. 

“Jake?” you called, causing him to look at you again. “Are you okay? Did something happen at work? You just seem . . . distracted.”

“I’m fine,” Jake assured you, glancing down at the onesie. “Just . . . taking it all in.” 

He rubbed his thumbs over the fabric before the two of you locked eyes again. You and Jake stood a step away from each other, staring into each other’s souls as Jake gently cradled that little onesie in his hands, with your bump well within his reach. You stared at him as he reached behind you to put the onesie back into the bag. Turning back to you, Jake offered you a genuine soft smile. 

“Thank you for the surprise.”

“Of course,” you replied softly, looking up at Jake. The two of you kept staring at each other, slowly inching closer and closer. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Why wouldn’t I like it?”

“I don’t know. Because . . .” you trailed off as Jake grew tantalizingly closer to you. “Because . . .”

The two of you stared into each other’s eyes, seeing the silent fears and insecurities hidden deep down that seemed to always come to the surface in these soft vulnerable moments. You couldn’t help but slowly reach out for Jake, resting a hand on his chest. Jake stared at you with such emotion as he wrapped his arm around your waist and rested his hand on your bump. 

“It’s stupid,” you whispered out. 

“I’m sure it’s not,” Jake replied calmly. 

You hesitated, wondering if you should really say what was on your mind and risk worrying Jake even more, or if holding it in would provide more peace in the long run for your relationship. But when Jake gently rubbed his thumb along your bump, the part of your brain that was worried about his reaction melted away. 

“Sometimes I’m just worried that I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. Gone gone.”

“Well, there’s no way that I’m willingly leaving you two,” Jake stated confidently. “And as for the—”

“—Don’t,” you interrupted, resting your hand on his cheek. “You don’t have to say anything about that. I know that you don’t have any control over it.”

Jake nodded slowly, though he looked like he wanted to say something about it. His eyes certainly did. The two of you continued to stare into each other’s souls, slowly inching closer. 

You weren’t entirely sure who made the first move, but you did know that you didn’t pull back when you felt Jake’s lips against your own. 

Your lips moved together softly, tentatively, like you were worried that you would scare each other away. Jake slowly pulled you closer as you gently trailed a hand down his chest. The two of you hadn’t kissed since you found out that you were pregnant, but you quickly fell into old habits.

Up until the timer on the oven went off, scaring the absolute shit out of you. 

Jake laughed as your grip on him tightened and he felt you jump a bit. You sighed, letting the tension leave your body as you leaned against Jake. Burying your face into his chest, you huffed. 

“You can stop laughing at me now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

~~~~~

Jake awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, sweat dripping down his forehead and chest. Sitting up with some erratic breathing, he looked over at where you were sleeping beside him, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil and asleep. Your head rested on your pillow, though your hand had fallen from Jake’s chest as he sat up. 

Jake wasn’t a stranger to nightmares. But he was a stranger to nightmares like these ones. The ones involving you. 

He’d had a hundred nightmares about being up in the air and something going wrong. But he wasn’t used to the image of you, sobbing your heart out, with a little bundle of blankets in your arms as part of that nightmare. And that terrified him more than anything else in those dreams. He’d never had something tethering him to the ground in such a way. And a stressed brain wandered. 

Would he get deployed and miss the rest of your pregnancy? Miss the birth of your child? Miss the first few months of your child’s life? What if something happened? What if he didn’t get to come home? What if he never got to meet his child? He knew you were strong and you had your family’s support, but what if the stress from that harmed you or the baby? What if you couldn’t manage financially? Would you even tell the baby about him? What if—

“Jake?” you mumbled out tiredly, half-asleep. 

You picked your head up, eyes half-closed as you reached out for him. Jake snapped back into the present and laid down, rolling over to face you. Grabbing your hand with his own, he urged you to lay back down. 

“Go back to sleep.”

If you were awake, you would have considered arguing with him about it, but sleep was quickly calling your name once again. Jake waited until your breathing evened out before he turned and laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and focusing on his breathing.

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[lotties-ashwagandha]

CLEANSED IN STILLNESS

valeria garza x reader

word count 1.2k, requested by my pickle peter @elaci

valeria gets cut by her own knife during the interrogation of a hostage, but you're there to tend to her wounds.

As you slipped through the halls of Valeria’s estate, you found peace in the silence. It was a blessing after the last few hours you’d been put through. 

A hostage had been given to Valeria by her men in the aftermath of their conflict with the Mexican Special Forces. Valeria put him in the basement, and he had been given a chance to talk of his own will, but after an hour of refusal your girlfriend had gotten impatient and things began to get messy. You were able to hear it as the man had begged for his life, and you had heard every cry of agony, every scream that cut through the tranquil stillness of the rest of the house. 

Now, silence had returned. The only noise plaguing the mansion consisted of your footsteps as you sauntered contentedly toward the kitchen. You glanced briefly down the stairs that led to the basement on your way, and an ache settled in your chest — you missed the company of your girlfriend and despised the man who had occupied her attention all day. Even if he had ended up dead, you still believed him privileged to have been her immediate focus for such a long time. 

Though she had been out of reach for a while, Valeria would be coming up from the basement soon. She had people to clean up the mess left by the interrogation so she didn’t have to. They would prepare it for the next to fall. 

You paused at the start of the next corridor. The light in the bathroom was on, and the door was left open, and you could hear items slamming about in the medicine cabinet above the sink. You jumped at the sound of something landing on tile, and a moment later Valeria’s voice filled the mansion, curses spilling out into the halls freely. 

Concern surged through you at the sight of her as you moved to the entrance to the bathroom. Blood ran down her left hand and wrist, rubbing off onto the sink as she dug through the bathroom to find something to use as a bandage. 

Valeria startled when you stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. She paused, looking down at her own injured hand with an expression akin to embarrassment. 

“What happened?” you asked, and attempted to grab her arm but she pulled away. “The man you were talking to, did he do this?”

“No,” she answered dryly. She moved her gaze back to the medicine cabinet.

You noticed her knife at the edge of the sink and took it. Blood tinged the blade, and you began to understand – Valeria was masterful with knives, but she was also prone to recklessness, and in the basement interrogating a soldier of the enemy was the perfect situation for accidental wounds. 

Valeria snatched the knife from your grasp. She put it back on the edge of the sink, giving you a sharp look. “You shouldn’t be playing with knives.” 

“Apparently, neither should you,” you said, and nodded to her hand. “Let me see it.” 

She hesitated. You knew she was embarrassed of herself for the accidental cut, and you waited patiently as she took a moment of apprehension before slowly extending her arm to you. 

You found the cut at the palm of her hand. It wasn’t deep, but it stretched the entire distance of her palm, and the blood that covered her made it look gruesome. Some of it rubbed off onto your hands as you examined the injury, painting both of you in matching crimson. 

“We need to clean it,” you said as you continued to assess the cut. “Let me help you.” 

“I don’t need any help,” she replied haughtily. “It looks worse than it is.” 

“Maybe, but you’re going to get blood everywhere. And we both know you’ll fuck it up if you try bandaging it yourself.” 

The hint of a smile crossed over her lips at that. She knew you were right, and that if she hadn’t been able to find bandaging for it she might not have fucked with it at all – so with a sigh Valeria relented, giving you a short nod. 

Gently you began to clean the cut. Though you knew it stung as you cleansed it under warm water, you could see her begin to relax. She needed this — to be cared for as exhaustion and stress and every weight she carried began to overtake her. You were content to be her release. In any way she needed you would care for her, in every way she refused to care for herself. 

As you dried the cut, you were reassured by how minor it proved it be. Valeria had been right — it wasn’t nearly as bad as it looked. Yet still you cared for her, and suppressed a smile at the slight crankiness in her expression as you glanced at her before turning to the medicine cabinet. 

“Bandages aren’t in there,” Valeria said with a huff. “I already looked. I think someone stole them.” 

You found bandaging next to the gauze, and took both of them out of the cabinet. Valeria watched with surprise, brows furrowing as if you’d done a magic trick she was trying to find the secret to. 

She was patient as you bandaged and wrapped her hand. What remained of her stress melted away and she watched you contentedly. It felt natural to be tending to her, your hands cradling hers, protection she didn’t need that you would always offer anyway. It felt more natural than breathing. You would spend an eternity watching over her, caring for her every need if it would present to her any breath of joy that you were able to give. 

She watched you with admiration as you wrapped her hand. You were too engulfed in it to notice, but love danced in her eyes as she let herself be vulnerable to your ministrations. It was no small feat to her that she allowed herself to put such trust in you. 

“Now, don’t fuck with it,” you warned when you were finished and gestured to the bandaging. 

She smiled mischievously. “You know I would never.” 

Incredulously, you shook your head. You knew her hand would be unwrapped by the time you went to bed. But you weren’t bothered, because it had made both of you happy that you’d taken care of her. 

Valeria pulled you into her arms, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. Her features illustrated contentment as she stood with you, her arms wrapped around you. Even as she pulled away to examine her hand again one of her arms was still looped around your waist. 

“Thank you for this,” she said quietly. Her gaze was still fixed on her hand. “You didn’t have to.” 

“I did,” you insisted with a small smile. “Like I said, otherwise you would have gotten blood all over our bathroom. You’ve already decimated the sink.” 

She muttered something under her breath about how the sink was fine and you were just being dramatic. You pretended not to hear it, amused by her embarrassment. 

As the two of you began to clean up the bathroom, you were already devising ways to tease her about the knife accident – the jokes you would make while she cut the ingredients for lunch would be unparalleled. 

[agi-ppangx]

💭i wished for you

bang chan x gn!reader

an: @flooo71 happy birthday once again !!❤️ here's the part two to the channie drabble, i hope you'll enjoy it<33

the boys had just finished recording a new dance practice when chan approached you. “hey, you wanna go to my place and watch some movies?” he asked you nonchalantly, sipping on his water and wiping his sweaty forehead. you tilted your head, slightly taken aback with the question. “i thought you were going to eat with the rest?” you mumbled with a confused look on your face. he chuckled at your words. “nah, i’m not really in the mood. i need some peace of mind.” you giggled at his words, knowing exactly what he meant. you loved the whole group, all of the boys being absolutely amazing, but sometimes they were just too much. “so? you, me and movies at my place?” he asked again, looking you deeply in the eyes. you nodded hesitantly, blushing like crazy.

chan and you weren’t officially together - you two were in this weird state where you were more than friends but less than lovers and it was kind of starting to bother you. not because you wanted to date the famous bang chan of stray kids, but because you two matched perfectly on every surface of life. if only there was a good moment to confess your feelings to him.

“would you mind if i took a quick shower?” chan said when you two stepped into his apartment. “yeah, it’s fine. i’ll wait here,” you responded, throwing him a small smile. “feel free to grab something to eat from the kitchen and just y’know… do whatever you want, make yourself at home, yeah?” he scratched his neck and without looking at you, he entered the bathroom, leaving you red like a tomato in the middle of his apartment. you had been there a few times before, so you knew how to navigate through the rooms. you went to the kitchen and grabbed yourself a bottle of water and some cookies. you were sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling mindlessly through your phone when suddenly you felt chan’s hand on your shoulder and you jumped at the touch. “sorry! i didn’t mean to startle you,” he giggled at the sight of your frightened state and gave you a little back hug. “oh, right! what time is it?” he suddenly asked you and you looked at your phone. “eleven past midnight. why?” his eyes widened suddenly and he muttered some curse words under his breath. he rushed to the fridge, opening it with a little too much force and taking out a big box from it, placing it on the counter. you got up, curious what it was all about. when you approached the chan, you noticed it was a cake. it couldn’t possibly be…? “what’s going on?” you asked him, watching him frantically look for something in the cabinets and drawers. “pretend you don’t see it, let me find the candles first…” he mumbled, not even looking at you. when he finally found what he was looking for, he placed the candles on the top of the cake and lit them up with a lighter. you observed him, completely dumbfounded. “alright, now-” he took the cake into his hands and turned to face you. “-happy birthday, yn.” you looked up at him with teary eyes and when he noticed it, his expression changed. “is everything okay? i know i’m like fifteen minutes late, but-” “it’s perfect. everything is perfect.” you are perfect, you wanted to add. “how did you know it was my birthday today?” he blushed at that question, lowering his head. “i may have asked your father about it…” he mumbled under his nose and his ear turned crimson red. you giggled at that, it’s ridiculous, you thought to yourself. you sat on the counter, smiling widely and chan stood between your legs, the cake still in his hands. “now quick, think of a wish and blow the candles,” he instructed you and you didn’t even have to think twice, blowing the candles in an instant. you are my dream, you thought. “wow, that was quick,” chan chuckled, finally placing the cake down. “what did you wish for?” he teased, lowering his voice a bit. your heart started beating faster. this is the moment. “you, chan. i wished for you.” with that you leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips and when you wanted to get away a bit, he cradled your face in his hands and without a word kissed you again. you didn’t comply, placing your hands on his chest. “does it mean we’re together now?” chan whispered breathlessly in between kisses. his eyes met yours and you nodded vividly, kissing him again. soon, the two of you were too lost in yourselves, completely forgetting about the movie night and the birthday cake, but in that case you couldn't care less - not when you had the best birthday present you could’ve imagined.

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[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Love Sea Novel Excerpt: Tongrak and Mahasamut's Last Time Before Bangkok (Ch 11: The Luckiest Man Alive)

"My place isn't like anything you've lived in before."

As they both walked together on the concrete bridge, Mahasamut turned to warn him, but Tongrak insisted on going. He looked into the face that met his gaze with such earnestness that he had to agree to continue walking along the wooden plank path that led to an old wooden house. Tongrak's eyes widened with curiosity as he surveyed the place.

"Want to change your mind?"

"Why would I?" Tongrak didn't understand, just staring at the guy, who laughed in response.

"Alrighty," the tall figure said, then unlocked the door and led him inside.

Right.

Tongrak muttered to himself. This was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Even the rooms at the summer camp he'd attended were better than this.

Mahasamut's house seemed more like a place to just sleep than to live. A single mattress, a small wardrobe, a storage cabinet, a broken fan, and a bathroom... that was it.

Even though the house was just this, his round eyes roamed around curiously.

"Are you looking for inspiration for a novel?" a deep voice chuckled from behind, to which Tongrak responded in his throat.

I'm just curious, that's all.

None of the characters he wrote about lived in a place like this.

"Yes. Why did you decide to volunteer [for the coral preservation group]?" Tongrak suddenly asked, turning to look at the large man who was placing his house and motorcycle keys down.

"Because I love the sea."

"That's it?"

"What other reason do I need? I love my hometown, and I love the sea. Oh, I love them enough that it got me disowned by my father."

Mahasamut narrated casually, laughing along, not overthinking it, even though the last sentence piqued Tongrak's interest.

The tall figure peeled off his sweat-soaked shirt.

"My father and I don't see eye to eye. He only thinks about catching fish to make money. He doesn't care if nature is destroyed, if the aquatic life dies, or if there will be any fish to catch in the future. He only knows he wants to catch as many as he can today- the more, the better."

"!!!"

Tongrak watched the man turn to open the wardrobe, his gaze tracing the broad back, the shoulder blades moving beautifully with every motion, while the deep voice seemed to pass through his left ear and out the right. Before his brain could catch up with what he was doing, he found himself lunging forward to grab the southern man by the neck and press his lips firmly against his.

He didn't know why, but he just... wanted to kiss.

The larger man was startled at first, but it wasn't long before solid arms wrapped around Tongrak's slender waist, pulling their bodies together until there was no space between them. The fierce lips sucked Tongrak's in return. Mahasamut nipped at his lower lip, a hot tongue flicking and then invading the warm cavern of his mouth.

Tongrak responded by parting his lips, unconcerned that clear saliva was seeping to the edge of his mouth. He just wanted to kiss Mahasamut, offer himself up, and have the other man take even more from him.

He liked this kiss.

"Haah.... Hah... Hah..."

They kissed for who knows how long, but it was long enough to leave their lips swollen and red, their breaths short and rapid, the clear saliva connecting them as they parted to gasp for air.

"Seems like luck is on my side today," a husky whisper brushed against the plump, soft lips.

And it made Tongrak press their bodies even closer.

"You're lucky beyond words," Tongrak tilted his head back, allowing Mahasamt to nuzzle into the crook of his smooth neck.

Then he whispered...

"Fuck me."

Tongrak felt the tension in the arms around him, and the large hand that caressed his hip slipped into his pants, kneading the soft flesh before fingers probed the entrance that clenched with pleasure.

"It's still swollen," Mahasamut whispered, his warm breath circling Tongrak's jawline before nibbling gently, causing a shiver from Tongrak.

"I'm ready," Tongrak confirmed.

He knew his body well enough to turn and bite the ear of the larger man.

"It'll be easy to enter, ah!"

Tongrak twitched as a long finger slipped into his tight entrance the moment he finished speaking. His hands clutched Mahasamut's shoulders firmly feeling the tension and excitement building within.

"Ah... uh."

He enjoyed the way the big man curled his finger and began to play with his entrance, pressing and slowly thrusting in and out until he was nearly driven mad.

"You're right," Mahasamut growled through clenched teeth in response.

And that made Tongrak look up at him.

Now, his heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst.

He liked the intense, focused expression on the sharp face, revealing just how aroused the man was. He wanted the dark, fiery eyes that seemed to scorch him, the lips biting down to contain overwhelming desire, and the hot body pressing against his skin, making him want to rub his bare flesh against it. He liked the large hands trying to sooth him even as they were tense. He liked the way the man tried to restrain himself from being too rough.

But...

"Do it. Go ahead."

That made him want it even more.

"Ughh!!"

As soon as he heard permission granted, the long finger that had been working to stretch him pushed in all at once to the deepest, followed by a second and third finger. A large hand on the other side pulled Tongrak's pants down to his ankles while a hot mouth claimed his provoking lips, kissing and biting until Tongrak moaned throatily.

At the same time, fair hands fumbled to remove Mahasamut's pants in a rush, eager to grasp the large, long shaft in his palm.

"W... wait a minute."

"Sorry, I can't stop now."

Tongrak had just touched the smooth hardness when Mahasamut grabbed him, turning him around to face away, pushing his upper body against a storage cabinet while kneeling down. He parted the soft flesh on both sides and pressed his lips against the enticing entrance, devouring it greedily.

The tingling pleasure that shot through Tongrak's entire body made him cry out, his eyes wide with shock.

With just a flick of Mahasamut's tongue, his body screamed that it was too much.

The big guy acted as if he were the most delicious meal, his hot tongue licking, sharp teeth nipping at soft flesh, and then invaded with his fingers, penetrating the hole. Long fingers never ceased to stimulate, deliberately pounding into the sensitive spot within until clear fluid welled up, brimming in his eyes. The vision before him blurred, with only his hips being forced to arch up, opening to an invasion that left him nearly breathless.

"Ah, ah, ha, Maha... Mahasamut, ugh!"

Tongrak listened to the wet sounds of his own violation, mingling with his moans and complaints.

"Enough... enough already... stop, ugh..." the tease stuttered because if Mahasamut didn't stop using his tongue, Tongrak would climax any minute now.

But it seemed the more he protested, the more it egged Mahasamut on as the wicked tongue probed deeper into the tight space, tormenting Tongrak, who writhed and bucked almost breathlessly.

He was close, so close... He was going to-

"Ugh!"

Tongrak jolted as the pressure inside him released, spilling his desire onto the storage cabinet. Still, he trembled even more as the hot tongue continued its assault, long fingers pressing until he moaned with a trembling voice, his legs quivering.

"Wait... don't. It's too sensitive there... Just a moment, ah... ugh."

Tongrak nearly buried his face in his own arm as the long fingers withdrew, his breath echoing throughout the small house.

His passage was burning hot, the heat reaching deep into his belly, still feeling the tongue and fingers that had been stirring him.

And then...

"Ugh!!!"

That was when Tongrak's eyes widened, his lips parting in a silent cry as the hot hardness didn't just enter, but slammed into him all at once, filling him completely, leaving him breathless and unable to scream. Tears streamed down just as he was about to protest because he'd just climaxed, but... someone had already said it was too late to stop.

"Damn it, your hole is squeezing me so hard."

"Ughhh!!!!"

Tongrak flinched as a large hand smacked against his hip before squeezing his waist, fingers pressing into the soft flesh. Then the large man thrust into him deeply, leaving him almost unable to breathe. He felt choked, he felt pain, but above all, there was an intense excitement coursing through his veins.

"Ah... ahh..."

His hips trembled, but as he tried to flee, the large hands only gripped him tighter, to thrust and bang into him again... and again.

"Ah... ahh... wait, wait, don't go there.... ahh, it's hot inside... it's tight... ahhh, right there, ohh..."

Tongrak's cries were almost heart-wrenching. He was going mad.

Why did Mahasamut know exactly where he liked it? How did he know how to thrust to make him scream? Why could he make someone like him shake uncontrollably, defenseless?

At this moment, the hot air couldn't compare to the heat of their entwined bodies. Sweat dripped and smeared across their skin, mixing with other fluids, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed around them. Pushing, pressing, thrusting, emphasizing the same spot over and over until tears streamed down and toes curled with every powerful thrust that fogged his mind.

"Fuck, you're so tight."

Amidst the blurring vision, he heard the grunted curses from the man behind him. The man who pushed his hips out as the flesh was almost completely pulled out, then yanked him back with such a forceful thrust.

"Ugh!!!... s-slow down, slow down..."

He tried to plead, but the wild beast behind him didn't even listen.

Tongrak was about to collapse.

"Ahhh!"

And then his whole body jolted as the large hand scooped up his right thigh, lifting it to make way for the hot, searing shaft to penetrate even deeper, causing Tongrak to grasp desperately at the neck of the man behind him, biting his lip in pain as the pressure in his abdomen nearly drove him mad.

Once more, Tongrak moaned loudly, receiving the relentless pounding from Mahasamut, who showed no signs of tiring easily.

"I can't stand... much longer... ugh... ahh, ahh..."

"Just a little more... I'm almost there..."

"No, no. I'm... gonna cum. I'm going to- ugh, not again. Ah, ugh!"

Tongrak's eyes widened in shock as he arched his back and pressed his face against the broad shoulder behind him, releasing a murky stream that once again soiled the storage cabinet.

He couldn't take it anymore.

Tongrak gasped for air, "Ugh, hah... ha... wait, I just finished."

"Hah... I'm sorry."

The young writer stammered out between sobs, tears streaming down his face, wishing for a moment to catch his breath. But he was too late to react to the other man who flipped him back around, scooped him up by his hips, and pushed him against the storage cabinet. A deep growl resonated in his ear, and the hot flesh invaded him to the deepest once again.

"I'm sorry."

Thrust after thrust followed.

"Oh, ah, aa, ahh!"

Even as the deep voice continued to whisper apologies, the large body relentlessly and savagely invaded, forcing Tongrak to sob and cling to the strong neck, burying his face in the broad shoulder, responding to the fierce assault that was driving him to the brink of madness.

"Kiss.... give me a kiss."

The request was met with a quick, fiery kiss, tongues sliding against each other just outside the lips, causing the clear liquid to spill down. Meanwhile, the bare bodies of both men continued to move in rhythm with Tongrak learning one thing...

This man filled him to overflowing.

---

"Where did you get all this pent-up energy from?"

"Who made you so irresistible?"

When the heated encounter came to an end, Mahasamut once again thanked his lucky stars for having such a beautiful man resting in his arms, the one who condemned his savagery and blushed madly when he turned his words back on him. He was so captivating that Mahasamut wanted to plant a kiss on those soft cheeks.

"If it were someone else, they'd probably be crying by now."

"You cried too, quite a lot."

"Tsk."

When Mahasamut pointed out the truth, the cutie gave a small protest and then turned away, his face flushed. This prompted the larger man to follow and wrap his arms around the slender waist, burying his nose in the crook of the smooth neck.

"I can't take it anymore, just so you know," Tongrak said with a weak voice.

Although Mahasamut wanted to do it again, he settled for holding the slender waist tightly.

"It looks like I've used up all my luck in life."

"Huh?"

The person in the embrace turned to look with curiosity, prompting Mahasamut to offer a smile, gently lifting his hand to stroke Tongrak's hair.

"I mean, how could someone like me ever dream that I'd have someone like you in my house, in my arms, in my bed? If I told anyone, they wouldn't believe me."

"You don't bring anyone home?"

Mahasamut liked the inquisitive look in the person's eyes because Tongrak was curious about 'him'.

"How could I bring anyone home?"

This time, Tongrak smiled broadly, then quickly suppressed the smile, turning his face away once more.

"Yeah, you're lucky. You'll never be this lucky again in your life, just so you know."

It was enough for the lucky one to press his nose forcefully into the soft cheek, teasing and playfully asking for a reward.

"You said if I did well, next time, you'd give me a blowjob."

[leighsartworks216]

On The Count Of Three

Harvey x FTM!Farmer

I've been thinking about this idea for days, but I've only just been able to write it sort of like how I want it. I'm not 100% happy with the ending but trying to expand it out made it worse so I chose the less worse option (in my mind). Slightly inspired by my fear of needles and my third-degree yearns of wanting Harvey to take care of me

Warnings: needles, injections, mention of fear of heights, anxiety, references to Harvey's ten heart event, slight hurt/comfort, semi-implied transphobia (not addressed)

Word Count: 1,002

Masterlist

AO3

Harvey washed his hands in the bathroom sink. He wasn’t even thinking about it, so second nature to nearly everything he did at work. Instead, he thought mostly about what he needed to grab from the medicine cabinet.

A bandaid, disinfectant, a fresh needle, and the bottle of testosterone. He repeated them in his head like a mantra as he dried his hands off and began grabbing each item in turn. With everything secured in his arms, he leaves the bathroom behind and heads into the bedroom. 

The farmer fidgeted anxiously as they sat on the edge of the bed, watching him intensely as he set everything aside and ripped open the disinfecting wipe.

Harvey couldn’t help but feel honored to be trusted with this. Yes, he was a doctor, but it was nearly a year after their arrival in Pelican Town that they told him about their plans for medically transitioning. They’d admitted to him later that they were afraid of the people in this small town rejecting them or worse. They were so alone in Zuzu City for so long, they’d hate to feel that way again here.

This had become a sort of ritual after that. When the prescription first came in, they’d held it in their hands, staring down at it as they sat on the exam table, like it was an alien baby they were holding. He asked if they needed help the first time, to know what to do. But it quickly became abundantly clear when he tried handing the prepped needle off to them that they couldn’t do it on their own.

As he knelt down on the rug by the bed, he looked up at them. They were looking away now, staring hard at the wall. Their hands shook in their lap, fingers tapping uneven patterns against their thighs. The cold shock of the disinfectant startled them, but they just closed their eyes and tapped another rapid pattern against their skin. He set the used wipe aside and removed the guard off the needle, drawing the proper amount of the hormone into the reservoir before setting the bottle aside.

Each sound made them more visibly anxious. He could hear them swallow thickly, hear the slight tremor in their breaths. If he was any closer, he’d hear the rapid beating of their heart against their ribcage.

He took one of their hands in his, and kissed the slightly sweaty palm with deep fondness. He thought this was one of the bravest things he’d ever seen them do. Nevermind going down into the mines, every single week they faced their fear, trusting in him to get them through it. And every single week, he did, and every week after they were ready to close their eyes, grit their teeth, and get through it again.

“It’s alright, dear, I’ve got you. Take some deep breaths now, alright?”

The first inhale was shaky. The exhale was squeezed out like somebody trying to get air out of a bag before they closed it. He waited patiently as they repeated the doctor’s orders a few more times, each subsequent one becoming smoother and easier. He hummed his approval, encouraging them to keep going.

He kissed their palm again reassuringly before setting their hand aside with a comforting squeeze. When he let go, their next exhale was choppy and nervous. There was nothing for it; the sooner he got this over with, the sooner they’d actually be able to calm down.

“Okay, ready?”

They nodded, eyes shut impossibly tight as they prepared for the sting.

“On the count of three. One… two… three.”

He slid the needle into the appropriate depth, drew some blood into the needle, and pressed down on the plunger to inject the dose. Their hands clenched into tight fists, clutching at nothing or the blanket underneath them. They remained that way for a moment after he removed the needle and clicked the guard back in place and set it safely aside. He peeled open the bandaid, removed the two pieces protecting the sticky parts, and expertly planted it over the injection site.

“All done! How are you feeling?” He took both their hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over their knuckles to smooth out their fists. They sighed deeply as they finally opened their eyes to look down at him, blinking spots from their vision.

“Exhausted,” they admitted. Harvey was no stranger to how much energy being scared ripped out of a person. He kissed the inside of their wrist. “Thank you for helping me with this. I know it’s kind of stupid.”

He squeezed their hands. “Hey, it’s not stupid. I think being scared of needles is a very justified fear.”

They huffed. “I know, it’s just… We’ve been doing this every week for how long now? I shouldn’t be so scared, but even just thinking about it…” They shuddered. “Which is dumb because it just happened, and it barely hurt at all, so why am I still so freaked out by it?”

He stood up from the ground, letting their hands go to brush some hair from their face, cupping their cheek sweetly. “You remember our first date?”

A bubbly laugh erupted from them. They didn’t expect this to be brought up again after so long. “Yeah, I remember.”

He smiled. “I was terrified of going up in that hot air balloon. But I still did, because…” He chuckles bashfully. “Well, because you were so brave, I felt like I could do it anyway, if you were there. But I’m still terrified of heights!”

“So, you’d go up in another balloon if I was there?”

“In a heartbeat. I’ll always be scared, but if you’re there, I can be a little brave. Or at least try to be.”

They grinned, leaning into his hand. “I love you.”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to their lips, mustache tickling their upper lip in an oh so familiar and pleasant way. “And I love you.”

[gladoswantscake]

Just a Scratch - Goro Majima x Reader

Summary: This wasn't the first time he came home in the middle of the night beaten up.

Warnings: Minor spoilers from Kiwami 1

Available on AO3

The outside of Kamurocho's bright neon city lights shined warmly through your bedroom curtains as you slept. Tonight was quiet. Too quiet and lonely. Tonight was one of those nights when you couldn't fall asleep. You roll over to stare at the empty spot on the other side of the bed; desolated and cold. It lacked your lover. Nighttime was when you longed for him the most. You only ever get to see him when he leaves for work and when he comes home at night. Going many hours each day without seeing him makes you yearn for his presence. A good day is when Majima comes home to you.

Of course, being a patriarch has more responsibilities and also requires him to attend to more important matters. He'd be lucky if he was able to come home before dusk. But that was rare.

You roll back over to your side to glance at the clock. Almost midnight. You'd only been in bed for nearly two hours and not a feeling of drowsiness hit you. At least he'll be home anytime now. You make an attempt to try to sleep.

Not even ten minutes in and the sound of three loud knocks erupts you from your sleep. The noise startles you as you sit up quickly, feeling your heart pacing rapidly. The continuous loud knocking begins to strike a nerve in you.

"Alright... Alright..." You shout as you sluggishly get out of bed.

You drag yourself to the front door, rubbing your face as you unlock the deadbolt and the knob. Upon opening the door stood Majima; beaten and bruised up.

What shocked you even more was his new attire: A dirty pink bodycon dress with torn fish net stockings, tousled blond wig, and press-on nails. The makeup was surprisingly well-kept on his face despite how badly wounded the rest of his body was.

You then remembered this morning before he left, he spoke to you about an idea he had in mind to lure Kiryu: If there was one thing that many men loved, it was women.

But you didn't expect Majima to come home dressed as a hostess.

"Sorry if I woke ya up. I lost my key."

You took no time to pulling him into your home. "What the hell happened to you this time?"

Majima follows you from behind, removing and tossing the pink high heels onto the floor at the front door in the process. A sly grin appears on his face. "I uh, got my butt beat again by Kiryu-chan." He follows you into the bathroom.

Ever since Kiryu got out of prison, Majima has been coming up with weird ideas.

Majima sits on the seat of the toilet. He watches as you dig through the cabinet searching for your medical supplies. It felt like a ritual to patch him up every time he came home injured. He never complained once about it. He secretly enjoyed being doctored up by you. Physical touch was a love language of his.

You set out bandages, rubbing alcohol, and pads on the sink then leaving in search for a bath towel in the bedroom.

"I thought Goromi would have been the perfect hostess to make him swoon." He removes the messy blond wig. "Almost had him too!"

"Maybe he's not into buff women." You shout from outside of your bedroom.

As Majima waits for your return, he begins to undress himself. The tight fabric of the dress was making it impossible for his fingertips to reach the zipper. Even trying to pull the dress downward didn't budge. "What a goddamn pain." He grumbles. "Who the hell makes these dresses where ya can't even get out of?!"

You quickly return to him, unzipping the dress for him revealing. Large bruises already forming on his bare back.

"Thank you, doll." He sighs in relief.

"This has to be the most uncomfortable thing I've ever worn." He removes the pink thong before wrapping a towel around his waist. "Do ya think pink looks good on me?" He jokes.

"I think it accentuates your figure." You glance up at him. A faint bruise was starting to appear on his jaw and a few scrapes scattered amongst his face.

"I'm sorry your idea didn't go as planned." You remove his eyepatch before getting started. Your hands cups both sides of his cheeks to examine the damage. You then reach for the gauze wipe then the alcohol. After lightly dousing the wipe, you cautiously dab his face.

"Ah, don't be sorry. I had fun." He winces at the feeling of the alcohol wipe stinging his cheek. "You should'ave seen Kiryu blushin'." He chuckles softly.

"So Goromi, huh?"

Majima laughs to himself. "Oh yeah. Now that you reminded me. I gotta a great story to tell ya."

----------------------

After disposing the used gauze and band aids, you return to him to observe his beaten face. The condition was slight better than it was prior.

"I'm worried for you."

"How so?"

"I'm worried that one of these nights you won't come home."

"Aw Y/N-chan..." His voice trails. His hands roam up your waist. "Don't be havin' those thoughts, besides it feels like I only took a scratch." He gives you a reassuring smile.

"I get that you enjoy fighting, but there's only so many times you can do it before something bad happens to you."

Majima sighs. His hands move to your wrists, taking them in his hands. "Darlin' I've told you many times I can't quit. It ain't no easy job. Hell, I've been a yakuza my whole life and I'm still kicking."

Majima was extremely defensive when it came to you preaching concern about his brawling habits. There was no way he was backing down something that he enjoyed doing. But with what you said was true. All the times he got into conflict, the thought of him ending up dead never crossed his mind. He had gotten an earful from you when he came home from the hospital a couple of weeks ago when one of his subordinate's accidently stabbed him. He could see why an incident like that concerned you for his safety.

"I may have some cuts and bruises, but I'm still here. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise."

"Promise?"

He pulls you into his lap. "As long as come home to see my Y/N-chan." His lips peck yours, leaving a faint lipstick stain on your lips.

Your hand runs through his messy undercut. "I'll be waiting for you in bed."

"You're not gonna join me?" He whines. "I haven't seen my Y/N-chan all day."

You took your time contemplating the idea.

"At least let me return you the favor." He purrs. "I gotta show how much I appreciate all that you've done for me."

[ereardon]

Snowed In || Friday [Jake Seresin x OC]

A Jake Seresin AU miniseries

Summary: When a massive storm shutters every airport in New York, you receive an unexpected call. Jake Seresin, the ex-boyfriend of your college roommate, is stranded at JFK with nowhere to go. Somehow you find yourself hosting Jake for a long weekend in your studio apartment. What happens when you realize that maybe your long-standing hatred for him was covering up something else? 

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Ella Finnley]

Trope: Forced proximity; enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, references to cheating, eventual smut

Wordcount: 3.2K 

Masterlist here

“And this just in. More than a foot of snow is expected in areas across the Tri-State, with Scarsdale already at seven inches and counting. LaGuardia has shut down their runway, with Newark and John F Kennedy airport soon to follow.” 

You groaned, flicking off the TV and opening the cabinets. They were predicting the worst storm in two decades and somehow all you had in the cupboard was a lifetime supply of ramen noodles and red wine. 

Outside, the snow was falling in soft clumps. You looked out the window which overlooked Fifth Avenue. Very few cars or taxis were on the road, and the people who were outside looked miserable. 

And then the phone rang. You dove for it, expected it to be your mom with yet another tidbit of news that she thought was groundbreaking, as if you didn’t already know that Diet Coke was bad for you, but the male voice on the other end startled you. 

“Ella?” 

You squinted, pulling the phone back and registering the caller ID. Jake Seresin. You groaned. “What could you possibly want, Jake?” 

“Nice to hear from you, too,” he replied and you rolled your eyes. It had been a decade since you last heard from Jake Seresin. He was just as obnoxious as you remembered. 

“Listen, Seresin, if you called just to give me shit, I didn’t need a reminder that you’re a dick. Memory serves well enough. Goodbye.” 

“El, wait!” 

You frowned. “What?” 

His voice softened. “I’m sorry to do this,” he said and you felt your stomach tightening. “But you’re the only person I know in the city.” Jake paused. “I’m stuck at JFK.” 

“Don’t eat the egg sandwich,” you said, recalling a moldy sandwich you had gotten once at the airport on the way to Berlin. “Have a good flight, Jake.” 

“Ella, I’m stranded,” he said and you groaned. “Can I stay with you? Just until the airports open back up.” 

You looked outside. In the two minutes since Jake had called, snow had started to fall faster, coating the streets and sidewalks and innocent pedestrians. 

“I’m sorry,” he said and for perhaps the first time that you had known him in almost fifteen years, Jake Seresin sounded genuine. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t my only option.” 

Jake Seresin. The last time you had seen him, he was standing in the doorway of your college apartment with a bouquet of flowers that Suzannah had grabbed and trampled on in fury. 

“Ella? Are you still there?” 

“Fine,” you said, surprising even yourself. “Fifth and 12th Street. Apartment 4B.” 

“I owe you, El.” 

“Two days, Seresin,” you replied. “Anything more and you get a hotel.” 

“I’ll see you soon.”

***

You had hated Jake Seresin for as long as you could remember. Or at least, since the first time you saw his smug face in a poli sci lecture. He was sitting in the back, drinking a cup of coffee and doodling on a notebook. At the end of class, he had come right up to you and asked if he could copy your notes. When you said no, asking why he hadn’t taken his own notes, he had called you sweetheart and shot his best grin. 

You turned on your heel and walked away. 

Two years later, your roommate Suzannah has been stupid enough to fall for his charm, and you were treated to the unfortunate experience of having to listen to the two of them having sex behind the thin walls of your apartment. More than once you had stumbled into a shirtless Jake in the bathroom, smelling like sex and acidic cologne. Once he had walked in on you naked and instead of hurrying out like a normal person, he had leered. 

You had doubled down on your hatred for him from that moment on. 

When the doorbell buzzed you sighed, peering at the small ring camera before pressing the buzzer. “Come up.” 

The minute between buzzing him in and Jake knocking on the door felt like a century. It always did. There was something so awkward about shuffling around, waiting for the door but not wanting to be too eager to open it when the knock finally came. 

Taking a deep breath, you swung the door open. 

Jake Seresin in the flesh. The same goofy, brilliant grin from a decade before. Sandy blond hair dotted with melting snowflakes, cheeks ruddy and pink from the cold. He wore a light jacket, far too light for the extreme weather, and held a duffle bag in one hand, cowboy boots soggy and wet, dripping on your doormat. 

“Jake.” 

He smiled, leaning in for a hug and you pulled back at the last second so he stumbled over the threshold. Jake righted himself. “Ella. Still hate me, I see.” 

You turned, shaking your head. The sound of the door closing was followed by the plop of Jake’s bag on the ground. “Shoes off,” you called out, and there was a clattering as he kicked off his boots. 

Jake appeared a moment later, his jacket removed, revealing a tight henley shirt and a pair of jeans. He took a look around the studio. It was surprisingly large, for New York standards. Not Sex and the City unrealistic, but nice, with an alcove to the right that held your queen sized bed, a large couch against one wall and a dining area in the center. 

The galley kitchen off the main hallway was large and the bathroom was relatively spacious for a studio. It had just been you for so long that you didn’t think twice about the size. But something about Jake in your space made you realize maybe it wasn’t as spacious as it looked to your smaller frame. He hulked in the hallway. 

“Nice place,” he said. “Been here long?” 

“Four years.” 

He tipped his head. “Always knew you were going to end up in New York, didn’t you?” 

You sighed, plopping down on one end of the couch, crossing one leg over the other. “What are you doing here, Seresin?” 

“I told you, I was stranded at the airport,” Jake replied, stepping forward and taking a seat on the chair opposite of the couch. You grimaced. His outdoor pants were touching your indoor furniture. That was the downside of having guests. If Jake could even be considered a guest. Don’t guests have to be invited? Or wanted. 

“On your way to where? Somewhere without extradition laws?” 

Jake rolled his eyes. “Ten years, Finn. Ten years and you haven’t changed.” 

“Have you?”

The words clung to the air. The elephant in the room. It didn’t matter that it had been nearly a decade since the last time you had seen Jake Seresin. 

His betrayal still stung, even if it had never been directed at you. 

“Ella,” he whispered. Outside, the sky was darkening. Without the constant bumper-to-bumper traffic that was a given on Fifth Ave, the street was uncomfortably dark. There was a dampness that chilled your bones, even from the comfort of being inside. “Please. Can we just put aside the past for the next few days?” He looked older. Small lines at the corners of his eyes. Jake Seresin had a loud, boisterous laugh, you remembered that about him. The way he could liven up a party. The way he could make you feel like you were the only person in the room. 

This time you were. 

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Finn?” he said, bringing back your nickname from college. “Truce?” 

You leaned back against the soft white couch cushion. “Fine.” 

Jake grinned. It was magnetic and you hated him for it. “Well, let’s celebrate then. Got anything to drink?” 

“Been here one minute and you need a drink already?” you asked, standing up. Jake’s eyes roamed over your leggings and sweater as you made your way into the kitchen, emerging a moment later with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Someone never got over their frat days I see.” 

Jake reached out, taking the bottle from your hands and turning it on its side. “You must be doing OK,” he said. “This is a one hundred dollar bottle of wine.” You handed him the wine opener and he undid the top easily, sliding out the cork and laying it on a stack of magazines on the marble coffee table. 

“Anything is better than that Franzia shit you used to love.” 

Jake ignored your comment, instead turning the bottle and reading the label. “I did a wine tour in Lebanon a few years ago. This was one of my favorite vineyards.”

You frowned, holding out a glass and he tipped the neck of the bottle against the thin rim, dribbling it into your glass. “So did I. That’s where I got that bottle.” You pointed to the 2015 Chateau Musar in his hand. 

“What were you doing in Lebanon?” 

“Writing a story,” you replied. “What about you?” 

“Went with a friend,” Jake said. “We met in Portugul and decided fuck it, let’s go to Lebanon.” 

“Still wildly dependable I see.” 

“I have a job, Ella. I’m an adult.” 

You laughed, tugging your knees to your chest. “Oh yeah?” 

Jake nodded, setting the bottle of wine down. You let your eyes roam over his fancy jeans, cashmere socks, shiny watch that you hadn’t noticed before. Maybe he wasn’t lying. Maybe he was doing OK for himself. 

“Fine,” you said, taking a sip of your wine. “You have a job. Slow clap. Who doesn’t?” 

Jake shook his head. “Still bitter,” he replied, tilting his glass to his lips. “Whatever happened to you and Connor Gray?” 

“Oh God,” you muttered. “Fuck no. Do you know what he’s doing now? He’s a fucking DJ in Bushwick.” You mimed gagging. “I’d rather eat my left foot than date some Chelsea-boot-wearing guy who drinks craft beer and tries to serenade me on a hot rooftop in Brooklyn on his shitty guitar.” 

Jake tipped his head back with a laugh. It filled the room. You had almost forgotten how boisterous his laugh could be. 

“What about you?” you asked. “Any poor unsuspecting women?” There was no ring on his finger, no tan line or dent to show that perhaps he was divorced instead. 

“Nope.” Jake put his glass down. “Single.”

“Really? Jake Seresin, single.” 

“It’s hard out there, Finn,” he said, his voice hitting a register you couldn’t quite place. Something between sadness and begging for understanding. 

“You were never without a date to a formal in college. Couldn’t even go out without girls throwing themselves at you.” You shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think the player in you would just shrivel up and die the minute we hit thirty.” 

“I’m still twenty nine,” Jake corrected. “And I don’t know what to tell you, El. It was fun for a while. But then I started to feel kind of gross. Like Leo DiCaprio. A new girl all the time. I couldn’t go to a single wedding without people asking about the girl who I had brought to the last one. But she was long gone.” He paused. “Couldn’t tell you the last time I saw the same girl for more than a month or three dates.”  

You frowned. Jake Seresin, a reformed manwhore? Not possible. 

He shrugged. “There, is that my dues for the night? Told you my dating life so now you owe me shelter from the storm?” 

“For now,” you said, standing up. “Interrogation can resume later. I’m hungry.” 

“Then let’s eat.” Jake looked outside. “It’s pretty shit out.” 

“Agreed.”

“What do you have for food?” 

You winced. “Honestly? I mostly eat out, so not much.” 

Jake stood up, brushing past you so closely you could feel his broad chest press against you for a second on his way toward the kitchen. “I’ll figure something out. You relax.” 

“Relax? With you in my apartment? Fat chance, Seresin.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Going to be a long weekend, isn’t it, Finn?” 

***

Jake somehow managed to make a perfectly edible dinner out of the almost-expired food in your fridge and what was left in the pantry. The two of you sat at the small two-person table you had pressed against one set of windows overlooking Fifth Ave. 

Anyone looking in might think it was a date. Even though Jake had dated Suzannah for almost a year, you two had barely spent any alone time together. That’s how you always tried to keep it with your friends’ significant others. A simple conversation here and there, usually while your friend was showering or getting ready or coming back from the store. 

Never like this. 

After dinner, Jake insisted on cleaning. As if it would make up for the countless times he had left shit in your apartment sink in college. You stood at the window, watching the snow pummel from the sky, coating the street in a thick blanket that it couldn’t shake. There was no one outside walking around. It felt apocalyptic and you cringed knowing that you still had at least a day alone with Jake and nothing to do but be in each other’s presence. 

“It’s dark in here,” Jake said, startling you. You turned as he reached for the overhead light. 

“Stop,” you said and he froze. “Lamps, dumbass. Why do men always want to use ceiling lights? Do you like being bathed in fluorescent light?” You strode over to the dresser along one wall, flicking on a candle warmer lamp and another small lamp on the far side of the room. Warm light spilled out into the room. 

“Does it matter?” Jake asked. 

“Yes.” 

Jake shook his head. “Alright, Finn. I’m all yours. What do you want to do?” 

“You mean other than throw you out in the snow on your ass?” 

Jake stepped closer. “Am I really that bad?” he whispered. 

You looked up. Clear green eyes, perfect almond tanned skin. Hair swept back in a carefree manner. You could tell why Suzannah has lost her fucking mind over him all those years ago. He really was too pretty to be true. “Maybe.” 

Jake looked around. “Well I would say I can get out of your hair for a few hours, but there’s not really many options.” He was right. Minus the alcove where your bed sat, the apartment was a pretty open floor plan. 

“Let’s just watch TV and watch the minutes tick by on the longest day known to mankind.” 

Reluctantly, you settled down onto the couch and flipped on the TV. After scrolling for a solid five minutes, Jake groaned. 

“What, Seresin?” you demanded. 

“Take longer,” he complained. 

“Fine, you do it.” You shoved the remote into his chest, trying to ignore how nice his chest felt beneath his shirt. 

Jake took the clicker and flicked through the apps before settling on a movie. 

“No,” you argued. 

He turned to you with a grin. “It’s a guilty pleasure. Humor me, Finn.” 

You grimaced as Twilight started. Jake laughed his way through the serious parts of the movie, cackling out loud at the spider monkey bit and you found yourself laughing along next to him. God, Carlisle really was hot. So was Charlie. That’s how you knew you were almost thirty. 

By the end of the movie, the two of you had shifted comfortably on the couch. You were no longer three feet apart. Instead, your feet were crossed over each other, almost precariously touching Jake’s where they sat propped up on the coffee table. 

It was the first time in years that you could remember sitting through an entire movie without some guy trying to feel you up or make a movie. 

The credits started to roll and you reached for the remote just as Jake did. You pulled your hand back like it was on fire and he handed it to you. “Sorry,” Jake said softly. His voice had grown huskier in the hour and a half since the movie started. “Your TV. Your remote.” 

“It’s fine,” you said and it was gentle. He smiled. There was something devilish about Jake Seresin’s smile. It was too perfect. You cleared your throat. “I, um, should get to bed

“Me too.” 

You stood up, clicking off the TV. The room felt darker without it, just the soft lamps illuminating small circles of light. “I’m going to shower. I’ll get you some blankets and pillows. The couch should be big enough for you.” 

“Thanks, El.” There was something so genuine about the way he said it that threw you off. Who was this stranger and what had he done with the dickwad from Stanford? “For letting me stay.” 

“See how much you like me after a night of sleeping on that,” you replied, digging in the closet near the hallway for pillows and a comforter, dumping them in Jake’s arms. “Do you, um, need to use the bathroom first?” 

“I’ll go after you.” 

In the shower, you were acutely aware that no more than twenty feet away, Jake Seresin was fiddling around in your apartment. You had spent hundreds and hundreds of hours with him at Stanford, but this was different and you both knew it. When you entered the living room, steam pummeling out of the bathroom door, Jake looked up from where he stood shirtless in the living room. “Oh, God!” you exclaimed, holding one hand up to your face. “What the fuck?” 

“Fuck, fuck, sorry!” Jake grabbed for his t-shirt on the couch, tugging it on. “OK, you’re safe. All clear.” 

“This isn’t Barcelona, Seresin,” you complained, stepping toward the dresser and sliding open a drawer, pulling out a pair of silk pajamas. “Or a rave in someone’s basement.” 

He sat down on the edge of the couch cushion. “Been that long since you’ve seen a shirtless guy, huh, El?” 

You hated that he was right. “Fuck off.” 

Jake chuckled. “Sorry, couldn’t help it.” 

“Maybe that’s why no girl wants to date you for more than a week,” you snapped. “Because you’re a dick.” 

Silence hung in the air, thick like the snow clumping on the streets outside the window. You held your breath, letting your lungs sit there and burn. Jake’s eyes haunted yours. 

You felt bad. Never had you ever expected to feel bad for Jake Seresin. Golden boy. Womanizer. Player extraordinaire. But this was obviously a sore spot and you knew it. 

He looked sad, sitting in your apartment living room in the near-dark, face drawn and quiet. An unease squeezed at your stomach. 

“Jake, I–”

Jake stood, cutting you off. “It’s fine. I’m going to use the bathroom if that’s OK.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

You watched his frame disappear down the hallway, rounding the corner into the subway tiled bathroom. As you sat down in your silk robe at the edge of your bed, the silence in the apartment, usually so comforting as an alternative to the bustle of the city outside, felt stifling. When Jake returned in the dark, flicking off the final light and settling onto the couch, you held your breath, waiting for him to say something. 

But nothing ever came. The two of you laid there, ten feet apart, separated by a wall of silence. 

You had spent ten years who knows how many miles away from Jake Seresin and never given him another thought. Why was it that ten feet now felt like a lap around the equator? 

The chill in the room wasn’t in your head and it wasn’t from the blizzard outside. You and Jake had created frost all on your own. 

Tag list [using my list from The Off-Season since it's my most up-to-date Jake list but if you're not interested in these types of fics just let me know!):

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@teacupsandtopgun @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @blue-aconite @seresinhangmanjake @eminyourjeans @shawnsblue @babyminghao @sadpetalsstuff @angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @wkndwlff @mygyn @oneelleandaneye @averyhotchner @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @rxmtoon @valkyrja-siren-blog @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @clancycucumber230 @theharddeck @redbarn1995 @shanimallina87

@memeorydotcom @joaquinwhorres @bobfloydsbabe @gretagerwigsmuse @djs8891

@blackcatdhisgf @fangirlvoice @buckysteveloki-me  @eli2447 @bellaireland1981 

[abellyfulloffriends]

Storm Shelter

It's here! I apologize for the huge delay, this story went through two rewrites because I just wasn't happy with the tone! Regardless I am so happy to finally share it with you all!

***

I remember you told me thunderstorms made you uncomfortable, while it wasn’t the worst thing for you to handle, you definitely couldn’t sleep with one around. You had also told me you couldn’t think about anything else until you knew you were safe. Every storm since then, you came to me or called me so that you could find that feeling.

Tonight, you didn’t.

It was abnormally cold for early spring, the open bedside window letting in a cold draft causing the curtains to flap in the wind. It didn’t feel right not having you here while the storm raged outside. Normally, when a storm rolled through, you would sit in my lap, or cuddle yourself to my chest. I would read to you softly to have you focus on something else.

Originally, I would have waited a little longer for you, but the storm became violent. The lashing rain sounded like rocks against the roof, and water began soaking the windowsill. Figuring closing the window would help, I stand from my chair.

I stare out the window to the street below. The storm is getting worse; the rain has completely overtaken the window, almost looking underwater. The rainwater flows through the wind, lashing at the side of the building. My shoulders are tense as the storm continues to rage.

A sudden flash of light nearly blinds me, combined with the deafening shriek of a lightning bolt searing a large crack in the sky. I grab my chest, startled. I hear you scream from the other side of the wall. Immediately after everything goes dark as the power fails. I gather myself quickly and hastily force the window shut. I turn and call out your name, attempting to hide the fact the storm is getting to me as well. Over the rumbling of thunder, I faintly hear you shout something. It’s coming from down the hall.

Under the nightstand, I retrieve my emergency lantern.

I need to find you.

***

Your scream seemed to have come from the far end of the place. I check the laundry room first, gently knocking on the door. I don’t get a response, but I decide to keep checking. You thankfully aren’t in any of the machines. You don’t seem to be in the side closet either.

Turning my search to the bathroom, I pull the shower curtains aside and look through the top cabinets. Being so small, you tend to hide in dark corners to shield yourself. After searching one side of the room, more thunder crashes outside, bright lights glowing through the foggy glass. I hear you whimper close by. I announce myself softly.

I notice the cabinet door under the sink is ajar. I tap it with my fingers and peer inside. There I finally find you, your knees up against your chest, and your hands covering your mouth. Tears stream down your cheeks, and you sob softly. Kneeling, I set the lantern next to me. The light gets your attention.

You hesitantly look up and lock eyes with me, then look away. Attempting to reassure you, I smile lightly, “Hey, it’s me, I’m here now.”

You mumble an apology, hugging your knees tighter. I hold out my hand, palm up. You pause before placing one of your hands into my fingers. You let out a shaky breath and begin to speak a little clearer. You apologize again, expressing regret. You had thought you could have handled it alone this time. You said having to admit to a bad call was tough on you.

I didn’t agree at all.

“It wasn’t a bad decision, and you don’t have to feel ashamed for it.” I move my hand further into the cabinet, “May I?” You begin unfolding yourself and grabbing onto me. I wipe your tears with my thumb.

“Do you want to go back to my room and I can read to you?” You nestle your face into my hand and nod.

***

I set you and the lantern on my nightstand, I pick up a bottle of water from the closet and sit down on the edge of the bed. At this point the storm has started to move out of the area, the thunder growing more distant and less frequent. I take a swing of the water, you seem to look in my direction and look away when I finish swallowing.

I set down the water and motion to the stack of books, figuring you’d want me to read to you. You shake your head. “No?" You shuffle your feet, hands clasped in front of you. “Well, what did you have in mind?” You gesture to my midsection. I look down and back up, slightly confused, “What are you suggesting?” You look off to the side, rubbing your arms. “Do you want to cuddle?” You look at me directly and begin to say something, but turn away again.

Then I get the memo.

“So,” I flash a toothy grin and slowly pat my stomach. “You want me to eat you?” You lock eyes with me, and smile shyly.

Every now and then you'd let me do this, something I had first suggested years ago, and ever since you knew it was safe, you always took the opportunity. “I hope you’re ready, but first-” I lean in close, whispering to you, "I just want a small taste." I drag my tongue over your face.

Your heart starts to flutter. Excited, you hold out your arms above your head. I reach down and cup you in my hands, your small body fitting snugly in my hands. I gently lift you from the nightstand, bringing you up to eye level, blowing a little air over you as I sigh. You wiggle in my grasp, barely containing yourself. I lick my lips and part them, rolling out and dropping my tongue, warm breath cascading over you. My open mouth is a clear view right down to the back of my throat.

Gingerly, you place one hand on my tongue, then the other. Your hands feel cold on the warm muscle. You exclaim how soft it is, then start rubbing your hands over my taste buds. I lift your body as you pull yourself in, extending my tongue under your torso, and releasing my grip around you, grasping you with only a single hand. I hold your lower half with my fingers as I tilt my head back. You slide in a little more.

I try not to be too greedy with you, but you don’t seem to want to wait as you attempt to squirm deeper. I lift you to my palate and let go of your legs, maneuvering my tongue under your feet. I tilt my head back and drop my tongue, letting you slide down, the thick saliva squelching as you slip. I open my throat and swallow with a resounding wet glrk, downing you like a shot. I take my hand and place it over my neck, feeling the small bulge travel past my sternum. I take a sigh as I level my head. Your trip down doesn't take long, my gullet works like a water slide, and you soon reach a stopping point. Your weight shifts as you reach your destination, squeezing through and dropping into my stomach.

You take a moment to gather yourself, running your hands through the folds of the fleshy walls, my belly growling in response. A smile creeps across your face. You attempt to find purchase to steady yourself but it’s too slick. You end up conceding and letting my belly cradle you, sinking further as the sounds of my heartbeat quicken. I slowly lay myself down, careful not to jostle you in there. Pulling the covers over me, I reach over and turn off the lantern. The storm is barely audible off in the distance. I begin massaging my stomach.

My stomach descends on you as I press down, gurgles reverberating around you. Your eyes feel heavy after tonight’s excitement, and the rhythmic breathing and heartbeat, accompanied by the occasional noise from my belly, have made you feel sleepy. You yawn lightly, stretching yourself out across the tight chamber. My belly relaxes and forms snuggly around you. You start to doze as you lay inside my stomach.

You know you’re safe, tucked away where nothing can hurt you, and you forget about the storm, everything around you feels like my presence, the feeling of isolation you felt curled up under the bathroom sink is gone, I’m the only thing on your mind now.

I place both hands protectively over you. Feeling your movements slow as you fall asleep, I close my eyes and focus on feeling fullness and weight in my stomach. I sigh deeply and relax.

“Sweet dreams.”

[takeyourcyanide]

Anguish

- Soul Eater

Notes: This has yet to be proofread. I have made references to age regression in a past fic, but I never actually wrote it. I decided to go more in depth with age regression in this fic.

Summary: Stein’s paranoia continues to bubble up until he can no longer take it.

Word count: 5 578

……

Paranoia followed Stein like his own creeping shadow, stalking him and subtly blatant in the sunlight. It sat within the recesses of his mind, never leaving him no matter how many times he attempted to soothe himself. It lurked and lingered, attacking him when he needed it the least. It was the backbone of every interaction he had with others, every word, everything. No logic or reason could ever fully diminish it.

It was a force more powerful than himself. It was himself. And he was so incredibly exhausted. He was so incredibly tired of always having one foot in everyone else’s reality, and another foot in his own. And he was tired of being forced to pretend that he didn’t.

He often wondered if it would’ve just been easier if he was one of those people without even a semblance of coherence remaining. There’d be no more battling with himself.

……

The bathroom mirror stood to taunt Stein, as did the room he scanned. The walls and the corners and the mirror itself felt almost as daunting and oddly intimidating as the menial task of showering - of which he needed to tackle. Stein was not the type to feel intimidated. Not by any person, not by anything. But after seemingly catching the floors beneath him breath from a certain angle, he felt suspicious.

The sound of Spirit wandering about in the kitchen, shutting cabinets obnoxiously loudly as he, presumably, searched for a small snack before school, startled Stein from his stupor, as a sense of dread washed over him. He was much too exhausted to deal with the chore of human interaction. He just wanted to be alone.

Stein turned back to the mirror, not missing the figure he’d seen from his peripheral vision. He, then, proceeded to glance at the shower curtain, a sigh shaking his frame. Every time he even so much as lived, he felt a presence following him, stalking him - including in the shower. He despised having to continuously turn around to check behind himself whilst simply trying to finish cleaning and rinsing his hair.

He begrudgingly trudged up to the curtain, yanking it open, half-expecting a person to be standing behind it, awaiting his arrival. He turned the handle of the faucet, sticking his hand underneath the flowing water. Once it had reached a satisfactory enough temperature, he turned on the shower, ridding himself of his comfortable clothes, and jumping in.

……

With wet hair and his clean, everyday clothes on, he opened the door, stepping out into the corridor, preparing himself for what awaited him.

“Morning, Stein,” Spirit shouted out, toast in hand, as he walked toward Stein. “You took longer than usual. Hurry up and dry your hair, I don’t wanna be late.”

Stein shot him an annoyed glare, moving to enter Spirit’s bedroom, as that’s where the blowdryer was located, along with a rectangular, hanging mirror. Spirit could be awfully vain at times, especially when it came to his precious hair.

He flipped the light-switch, grabbed the blowdryer, and grimaced at the noise it made as he dried his damp hair.

“Hey, you should really start putting heat protectant in your hair before doing that,” Spirit scolded for the thousandth time.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Stein shrugged his tired shoulders, continuing to make rounds around his head with the aforementioned blowdryer.

“It should!” Spirit playfully exclaimed. “How do you think I got these luscious locks,” he flipped his hair jokingly, smirking.

Stein rolled his eyes, a halfhearted chuckle escaping his lips as he shook his head.

“Yeah, that’s why you get all the girls, huh?” Stein snickered.

“You laugh, but it most certainly is. And my irresistible charm and amazing looks,” he teasingly replied, lifting his pointer finger as though he was making a thoughtful point.

“Sure,” Stein sarcastically said.

……

The fluorescent lighting decorating the DWMA’s hallways sparked suicidal desires within Stein as he marched to class with Spirit.

He silently wondered to himself why Spirit stayed by his side so often. Of course, he was his partners and it only makes sense, but why did he agree to partner with him in the first place? Pity? Obligations? A dare? Curiosity’s sake? What was his motive? What did he have to gain? What did he want from Stein?

“Earth to Stein,” a particularly large a hand waved in front of his face. “We’re here, let’s go in.”

Stein stood at his priestly little weapon, his red hair glimmering underneath the godawful lighting.

Was he perhaps a spy for Lord Death? A watchdog? Was he reporting his every breath to the god obediently?

A hand wrapped around his arm, tight, but not tight enough to be uncomfortable.

“Come on, dumbass,” Spirit teased, dragging him into the classroom.

“Is something wrong?” The weapon glanced at Stein as they walked up and over to their seats. He was met with a chilling silence, a chilling expression. Stein’s eyes were narrow and clearly examining his every movement.

“Dude, seriously, are you good?” He once again prodded. He seemed fine earlier. Well, to be fair, he never seemed quite “fine,” but it was “fine” enough for Stein.

“Have you hid any sort of camera or listening device in our apartment by any chance?” Stein asked, unsure of why he even did as such when he knew that even if Spirit was guilty of doing so, he would have absolutely no incentive to tell him.

“No? Why would I do that?” Spirit’s face contorted into a confused and utterly bewildered expression. He was entirely taken aback.

“To report back to Lord Death,” Stein begun smiling, as though he were simply joking. It was obvious to him that Spirit thought he was being stupid and weird again, and that it would be best to simply play it off.

“Don’t be so paranoid. I’d never do that,” he stated, sitting promptly in his seat.

“You would if Lord Death asked you to,” Stein bit back, the grin on his face doing nothing for how unsettling his tone of voice was.

Stein took his seat next to Spirit, staring intently at him.

Spirit spared a quick glance, only to ultimately face the front of the classroom, hoping to god Stein would do the same.

What was wrong with the kid?

……

The cacophonous, yet wondrous sound of the bell ringing shook the walls, promptly ending the never-ending chattering of the teacher and Stein’s classmates.

Stein would typically wait for his friends, but he, instead, rushed quickly off by himself. They were all meant to go to lunch together, but Stein could not handle the creeping feeling bubbling inside of him, festering just as his violent feelings do.

Why did he have to be this way?

He wanted to go to somewhere dark and quiet, somewhere he could be alone.

That fantasy was soon shattered by a hand tapping on his shoulder.

“Stein, where are you going?” Spirit questioned before Stein could make it out of the door. The rest of their little group was standing close by him.

“Nowhere now,” he mumbled, sounding almost sad.

……

“Come on, Spirit, tell us about Kami,” Marie pushed on.

“I saw you two practically making out a couple days ago,” Sid teased Spirit.

Spirit’s face flushed madly. He looked to be almost as red as his hair.

Stein listened to his friends go on and on over the most boring of subjects. He did, however, manage to find observing their conversation to be pleasantly entertaining.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t entertaining enough to distract him from the rambling in his head. He felt almost clouded, as though he could barely conjure up a proper thought. Well, other than “they’re lying to you,” and “there’s no point in being here. You’re not one of them. They’re only teasing you. You might as well be a caged zoo animal to them - something to take interest in and observed, but that is all.”

“Are you okay, Stein? You’ve seemed distracted all day,” Marie calls out concernedly. She was always so caring. At least she pretended to be, anyways. Stein was sure she laughed about how he probably fell for it to Spirit and Azusa and Sid and Joe whenever Stein was not present to bear witness to it.

“‘M fine,” he spoke in a hushed, hoarse, and slurred tone. He was looking through the girl as opposed to at her.

“Oh, okay…” Marie trailed off, clearly not believing him in any capacity.

Stein paid no mind to his own terrible lie, only able to wonder to himself why Spirit stopped him from simply going in his own for the lunch period.

……

By the time the school day had finished, Stein had earned himself at least a thousand curious and supposedly worried glances from his friends.

He did not believe their façade of worry. Something in him continued to scream at him how they were lying. He did not know precisely why they were, but he simply knew that they were. Perhaps they were all in it. They were all Lord Death’s spies. Perhaps they knew something he didn’t. It sure felt like it.

Stein was seated on the couch, watching Spirit as he cooked dinner for the two of them.

“Hey, Stein?” Spirit broke the silence. Stein merely let out a hum of acknowledgment.

“I’m going to invite the group over for dinner. Are you ok with that?” He asked, glancing repeatedly over at the visibly sleep-deprived male. He looked as though he might pass out at any given moment.

“You’ve never asked me if I was ok with it before. Why now?” Stein gazed with suspicion into Spirit’s blue eyes, said eyes revealing even more of that false concern.

“I don’t know.. You just.. seem a little off today is all. You’ve been even weirder than usual,” Spirit spoke with an air of sincerity, which only served to further confuse Stein. Was he honestly concerned or not? Was he just a good actor?

“It’s fine. I don’t care,” Stein looked down at his pale hands. He questioned whether or not they were real. And whether or not he was real.

Spirit jumped at the sound of harsh knocks, running towards the door.

“I need to get you guys some extra keys,” Spirit chuckled, opening the door for them and welcoming them in.

“Hey, Stein,” Marie waved in her usually friendly manner, skipping over to sit beside him.

“What are you cooking? It smells great,” Azusa asked curiously, a pleasant expression decorating her visage as she took in the intermingling smells in the air.

“Uh,” Spirit distractedly begun. “Spaghetti and garlic bread.”

“Oooh, that sounds great,” exclaimed Marie from the couch. From the corner of her eye, she examined Stein’s seemingly over-exhausted face. Dark circles painted his under-eyes, and his lips were unbelievably chapped. They appeared to be bloody in some areas. She had noticed long ago that he had an odd habit of biting them.

“That looks like it stings, Stein,” she sympathetically pouted, pointing at his ripped up lower lip.

“Huh? Oh. It’s fine,” Stein shrugged his shoulders, mumbling lethargically. He sounded just as distracted as Spirit had, despite not doing anything.

Azusa, Sid, Joe, and Nygus moved to take their seats on the sofa opposite to Marie and Stein. They were all happily conversing, laughing and smiling.

“What are you guys so giddy about?” Marie grinned, scanning the group in front of her.

“Oh, we’re just making fun of Casanova over there,” Sid tilted his head in the direction of the glaring Spirit. “Sid was telling us about how Spirit told Kami that she was ‘like the most beautiful angel he’d ever seen’,” Azusa spoke in a teasing, mocking tone of voice, placing her hand theatrically upon her chest.

“Oh, wow, Spirit, you really like this girl, huh?” Marie smirked, snickering.

“Yeah, I do, as a matter of fact. She’s great. And you have no room to talk. You fall in love with any guy who gives you the time of day,” Spirit bit right back, chuckling whilst playfully pointing out Marie’s hypocrisy.

Marie gasped in half-phony shock, yelling, “That is not true!”

She turned her head over to Stein expectantly, as he would usually chime in with his usual snarky remark. But he did not say a word. It didn’t even look as though he was paying any attention whatsoever. He was simply staring at the wall with a hollow expression on his face.

“Stein?” She said, elbowing him. “Aren’t you gonna make fun of me? Or Spirit?”

“Huh?” He whipped his head around, scanning the room. The entire group was staring at him.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Marie continued, staring into his disinterested eyes.

“Say what?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, an odd feeling he did not understand bubbling within him as he realized he did not have any sort of upper hand for once. He did not know how to react. He was failing to even mirror the group.

“Never-mind,” Marie forced her mouth into a lazy smile. She seemed to almost pity him. Stein did not want her fake pity.

“Food’s ready!” Spirit shouted excitedly. Everyone rose from their seats to get a portion. Everyone except for Stein.

……

“Stein? Are you done with your food? You hardly ate at all,” Spirit snapped his fingers in front of Stein’s face. Evidently, he had drifted off and forgot to pretend to have some semblance of an appetite.

“Wasn’t hungry. Was good, though,” Stein mumbled.

Marie stood, kindly and politely taking everyone’s plates and bowls and placing them in the sink.

“Are you sure you weren’t hungry? You didn’t eat much all day,” the weapon prodded, suspicious of the obviously lying meister.

“I don’t know,” he leaned his head onto the back of the sofa to rest.

Spirit sighed deeply, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Was he depressed? No, that couldn’t be it. That wouldn’t explain the weird paranoid question he asked him. What was bothering him?

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Even Joe began to question him. Stein wondered how much he was paid to worry.

“Yeah,” he replied, voice remaining quiet and strained.

“What do you guys wanna do? Play a game or something?” Spirit looked curiously around the room.

“We could all watch a movie, but someone doesn’t own a TV,” Sid teased.

“We can’t afford it right now. We’re saving up for it, though,” the redhead replied.

“What kind of game?” Azusa steered the conversation back to its original topic.

“Hm, I’m not sure. Stein, do you wanna choose a game?” Spirit turned the attention back to Stein. His eyes were closed as he breathed slowly in and out.

He lifted his head from the sofa, his eyes opening almost cautiously. “We could play-“

“Let me guess… Operation?” Azusa snickered, interrupting Stein.

“If it’s fun, it’s fun, Azusa,” Stein just barely smirked.

“It’s nice to see you.. sort of smile,” Marie beamed at Stein.

“We can play that, I guess,” Spirit shrugged. “Unless anyone has a better suggestion?”

“Not really,” Marie said.

“Well, it’s settled, then.”

……

“How are you so goddamn good at the game, Stein?” Marie exclaimed.

“It’s all those creepy-ass dissections,” Sid remarked.

The group packed the board game away, continuing their gleeful chatting in the process. Stein had enjoyed the game, it was visible by the focused and relatively more relaxed expression he wore, but it was also obvious that whatever was bothering him had not simply magically disappeared. Both Marie’s and Spirit’s stomachs churned with worry, both sparing knowing glances at one another. They were on the same wavelength at this point.

“Well, I’m gonna have to get going,” Joe begun, walking towards the door. “Thanks for the food. It was great!”

“Oh, yeah, us too, probably,” Sid said, referring to him and Nygus.

“Me, as well,” Azusa chimed in. “You coming, Marie?”

The three stood at the door, holding it open for Marie.

“No. I actually think I’ll stay and help clean up a bit,” she nodded.

“Oh, okay, then,” Azusa took another step forward. “Well, we’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Marie and Spirit both let out a hum of agreement, waving the rest of their group goodbye.

The moment the door shut, they stared holes into the male between them, Marie crossing her arms, and both of them preparing to interrogate him.

Stein glanced at both of them with a glint in his eyes that screamed how he was more than ready to run, his body tensing in response to what he knew they were up to.

“Stein,” Marie broke the awkward silence, distracting them all from the sound of the clock ticking above them. You could truly cut the tension in the room with a knife.

“Hm?” Stein huffed.

“What’s wrong?” She uncrossed her arms, appearing more open and friendly. Her head tilted with concern and curiosity.

“Why do you ask?” He looked her up and down, observing her every breath.

“What do you mean ‘why do you ask’? You’re my friend and I care about you,” she asked, bewildered.

“They were my friends, too, and they aren’t asking,” he crossed his arms, effectively curling in on himself. He looked similar to a turtle shrinking back inside of its shell when feeling threatened.

“Well, we’re closer,” she explained.

“Tell us, Stein,” Spirit decided to enact force upon his partner.

“Why?” Stein asked once more.

“Because we want to help you, Stein!” Spirit quietly yelled, his arms flailing in annoyance. Marie didn’t personally think Spirit’s methods were going to prove effective. She thought at least trying to be patient and trying to behave as non-threateningly as possible would prove to be the best course of action.

“No, you don’t,” Stein hissed, grimacing, and baring his teeth at the weapon.

“What are you talking about?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re just going to tell anything I tell you to Lord Death. And if not Lord Death, then everyone else! For all I know, you could be recording this conversation to show it to everyone you know - or just Lord Death! I know how you people view me!” Stein didn’t exactly seem angry, but rather baffled and cornered like a stray.

“Why the hell you do you keep going on about that shit! Why are you so paranoid?! Of course people think you’re a case study, you are one!” Spirit shouted, his eyes widening wildly.

“Spirit, stop! That’s just unnecessarily rude!” Marie yelled right back, shutting him up before he could say any worse.

“See? You don’t care! You’re tired of dealing with me, you’ve made that obvious! And of course I’m going on about that, what other motive do you have to feign concern?” Stein glared daggers into the Spirit’s soul.

“Stein, do you actually think we’re lying?” Marie softly questioned, logically trying to get to the root of the issue and not just have a shouting match.

“You say that like it’s strange,” he avoided the question.

Marie shot Spirit an “I will rip your head off and feed it to the wolves” look before he could make some mocking remark about how it was, in fact, strange.

“No, I’m just curious, Stein,” she placed her hands in her lap, gazing at him with a gentle expression.

Stein looked back and forth, at Marie, then at Spirit, at Marie, then at Spirit.

“Well, let’s come back to that. Spirit, why are you so mad over this?” Marie felt as though she was playing therapist.

“I guess I’m just worried. And tired of the random, off-the-wall questions. And frankly, I’m hurt that he seems to think I’d backstab him,” Spirit spoke with a much more hushed voice, a genuine look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Stein.”

“‘S fine,” he mumbled back. “It’s not about you.”

“But how could it not be? I guess you are sort of accusing everyone, but still,” Spirit was entirely confused.

“Please stop,” Stein tucked his head into his knees, pulling on his hair and rocking back and forth.

“What?” Spirit spoke.

“Please just stop. I don’t wanna say it. I don’t want anymore questions. Please go away. I want the dark. I want to be alone,” his voice sounded awfully hoarse again as he slurred his words together.

“I can’t stop, Stein. As your partner, it’s my job to help you,” he replied.

“So, obligation, then? That’s it, huh?” He begin pulling at his hair much harder than before. Marie grabbed onto his hands, attempting to ease Stein away from harming himself.

“Let go,” Stein looked up at her, his eyes redder as it appeared as though he might cry. “‘M not helpless. I can handle myself. Don’t take it personally, just go away.”

Marie did not budge.

“Stein, I won’t let you hurt yourself,” she declared sternly.

Stein’s movements ceased completely as he simply stared. His bottom lip jutted out in a particularly juvenile manner, and it began to quiver. His stomach twisted with paranoia, twisted with this odd feeling that he was longing for something, though he did not know what. He did not want to be vulnerable with them. They were forcing it in him. He just wanted control. He was slipping away.

Suddenly, he choked on a pitiful sob, his body shaking with fervor, as tears began to scorch his rosy cheeks.

“You’re all just like it. It won’t go away. I just want control,” he weeped, speaking in between sobs.

Spirit and Marie sat there for a brief moment, at a loss for what to do. Neither of the two had ever seen him so much as shed a tear.

Marie decided upon scratching up and down his back, playing with his hair at times, as he usually didn’t mind that. She didn’t want him to feel overstimulated by a full-on embrace.

“‘It’?” Marie prodded, hoping to god that it wouldn’t be too much for Stein, and that it wouldn’t make things even worse.

“Don’ wanna say it,” Stein once again slurred his words like a drunkard. Or, rather, a small child.

“Is it paranoia, sweetheart?” She was also hoping that her words, dripping with sappy-ness, would in some way comfort him.

His eyes widened larger than anything they’d ever seen before.

“How’d you know?” He said in the smallest, most pathetic voice. If she didn’t feel so bad for him, she’d probably find it adorable.

“Well, honey, given all the things you’ve said and done,” she trailed off, pulling him in and petting his hair.

“I keep seeing and hearing stuff. Actually, all of my senses have been covered. I don’t feel good,” he said, remaining tense underneath her touch.

“I’m so sorry, Stein,” she spoke sympathetically.

Spirit reached over, rubbing his back in hopes it would soothe him.

Stein then lowered his head, attempting to tuck it away from good sight, as he stuck his thumb in his mouth, childishly suckling on it.

Both Marie and Spirit exchanged odd glances at one another, but did not say a word about it.

“‘S all too big,” he huffed around his finger.

“I’m sure it is, dear,” she hushed him sweetly.

Marie and Spirit acknowledged his odd behavior, how out-of-character he was acting. They supposed it could be attributed to the meltdown he was having, but he was behaving awfully child-like.

“Gonna hurt me,” Stein sniffled.

“Oh, sweetie, I promise we won’t,” Marie cooed, continuing her soothing ministrations. Stein only cried harder.

His eyes were all puffy and swollen, and even his nose was red. He shoved his face into the crook of Marie’s neck, his free hand moving to grip onto her shirt. Almost immediately, she felt his tears soak through her clothing.

She began rocking him from side to side, the motion gentle and calm. His eyelids were becoming too heavy to hold open, though he desperately fought to as he sobbed.

“I wish I could make it go away for you, love,” she whispered into his hair, one arm around his waist, the other on his head. Spirit still continued to massage his back, deep in thought and deep in worry and anxiety.

“It’s okay, you can rest now. It’ll be just fine,” Marie attempted to reassure him.

Slowly but surely, the tight contracting of his muscles released, as he went limp against her. His breathing evened out, his sobbing and sniffling coming to a close.

“How did you manage to do that?” Spirit admired her abilities, simply in utter disbelief.

“What? Put him down for a nap? I’m really good with kids,” she whispered half-jokingly, smiling and chuckling.

“I can tell. You’re really soaking up being able to treat him like one and baby him, too, with those pet names and shit,” he laughed in return.

“Of course I am. But seriously, why is he acting like this? I don’t mean having a breakdown or being paranoid, but..”

“You mean sucking his thumb?”

“Yeah! I mean, I get self-soothing, but that’s just not him at all!” She quietly exclaimed. “Why don’t you look it up or something while I enjoy this while it lasts,” she giggled.

Spirit rolled his eyes, picking up his phone from off of the side table and opening Google.

……

“Hey, I found something,” Spirit announced, grabbing Marie’s attention.

“What is it?” She excitedly asked.

“It’s called ‘age regression.’ It’s pretty in line with his behavior and what happened. Since he was under a lot of stress, he involuntarily reverted to, like, a child. As in, he is in the current mindset of small child, and we’re supposed to treat him how we’d treat anybody of the age he is feeling,” he elaborated, glancing down at his phone and back up at Marie.

“How do we know how old he’s feeling?” She questioned curiously.

“I suppose we could infer based on his behaviors. Or we could ask him whenever he wakes up,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know how long that’ll be, though.”

“How long can it last?”

“Erm.. anywhere from a few minutes, to hours, to days, to… etc.”

“I hope for his sake he’s not in that state of mind at school,” she peered down at the boy worriedly.

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed.

……

Stein began to stir in Marie’s grasp, groggily groaning.

“You don’t sleep very long, do you?” Marie adoringly spoke.

He had only really slept for about an hour, which was lucky in Stein’s book.

His head still felt fuzzy and he still felt rather small. Being rocked by Marie wasn’t helping that fact.

“How old do you feel, dear?” She asked, holding back a laugh. He still had his thumb in his mouth, despite being too distraught to suck on it.

He took his finger out of his mouth, maneuvering his hand in such a way that it formed a zero.

“Aw, you’re just a baby, then, huh?” Marie cooed once more, practically pinching his cheeks. Spirit rolled his eyes and snickered at Marie’s behavior.

Stein could not process anything. It felt as though he had clouds in his head as opposed to a brain. Even despite that, there was still that damning feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He whined, shoving his finger back into his mouth, along with his head back into its rightful spot between her neck and clavicle.

“So, we treat him like an infant, then?” Marie clarified.

“Yeah, I think so,” Spirit nodded his head.

Marie’s body shook with a thoughtful and emotional sigh.

“What is it?” The weapon questioned.

“I can’t help but feel responsible for his meltdown,” she glanced down at him with a guilty expression.

“It was bound to happen, you know that, right? He was starting to crack up,” Spirit reassured her.

“Yeah, I guess. But we did push him.”

“I guess.”

Marie sifted through his hair as she rocked him, whispering a quiet apology.

“I’m sorry, Stein.”

“Yeah, me too,” Spirit said, patting him on the back.

Stein turned his head, still lying on her shoulder, but better able to see his friends.

“I guess he is pretty cute despite how weird this all is. Never thought I’d say that about him of all people,” Spirit chuckled to him, rubbing up and down Stein’s back once again. He couldn’t help it, not when he could visibly watch as Stein melted into the touch. Probably the only time he would.

“Yeah, it is kinda weird, but I’d rather he suck his thumb than start cutting into himself again,” she began. “Plus, like you said, he’s kinda cute.”

“Yeah… He’s probably going to freak out again when he feels older, though. He’ll probably think we recorded this for blackmail or something,” Spirit shook his head.

“I hope not,” Marie pouted.

A grumbling sound startled Spirit and Marie, as they looked toward Stein’s abdomen.

“Are you hungry, baby?” Marie asked him, laughing a little. Stein nodded his head.

“How are we going to feed him?” Spirit asked. “I’m not sure he’ll accept actual food like this.”

“I know this isn’t exactly feeding him, but does he still have that sports bottle? Because if he does, can’t we put milk in it?” Marie offered, squinting her eyes in thought.

“You’re seriously going to bottle feed him?” Spirit snickered, not mockingly, but out of genuine surprise.

“What else are we supposed to do?” Marie laughed.

“Well, I’ll go get it. He does still have it,” he walked off toward Stein’s bedroom.

“Thanks!”

“Yep!”

Spirit soon returned with the bottle, going into the kitchen and filling it with milk.

He handed it to Marie, Stein whining in complaint when Marie ceased her rocking motion.

“It’s okay, Stein,” she shushed him, moving the both of them to a better position for bottle feeding.

“Stein is so gonna fucking kill us when he’s back to normal,” Spirit smirked, shaking his head. Marie returned the malevolent smirk.

She gently wrapped her fingers around his thumb, pulling it from his lips. Stein pouted, glaring at her the best he could in his current state. Marie laughed, lifting the bottle and placing the tip into his mouth.

Stein happily accepted the milk, drinking slowly as he looked around the room.

After he had finished a decent portion of the bottle, he pushed it away, groaning softly before Marie could place it on the coffee table.

She moved back into her former position, rocking the boy once more.

“Do you think you could fall asleep again, love?” Marie asked Stein, observing how hard he was trying to stay awake.

“I have an idea,” Spirit grinned. He grabbed his phone, tapping on YouTube, and pulled up a video of some doctors performing a dissection on a dead tiger.

“Should we really be showing that to a baby?” Marie questioned his methods.

“First of all, it’s Stein we’re talking about. We all know he came out of the womb watching this shit, and secondly, I’ve seen him fall asleep to videos like this a lot. I wanna see if it works, even if this state,” Spirit explained, holding up the phone horizontally.

“Look who’s experimenting now,” Marie teased. “Hey, Stein, look what we have.”

Stein turned his head curiously towards whatever they wanted to show him.

He was immediately hooked.

His eyes widened with pure elation, he started to kick his feet, and a huge smile appeared on his face for a short moment.

“See? He’s even fucked up as a baby,” Spirit grinned.

“Should we curse around him still?” Marie pondered aloud.

Spirit gawked at her, rolling his eyes, and snickering.

Marie continued to rock him as he watched the little video. It was actually quite interesting from an educational point of view.

His eyelids began to fall, and the sucking on his thumb died down significantly.

“We’ve got him down again, partner,” Spirit said, quietly high-fiving Marieafter putting his phone away.

“Hopefully he can actually get some sleep,” Marie, caring as ever, wished.

“Yeah, for real, if only,” Spirit said in agreement. “Should we take him to bed?”

“Yeah, I guess so. He’s not too heavy, is he?” She asked, preparing herself to lift him.

“I don’t know. He doesn’t eat too much,” Spirit shrugged. “I can help you if you need it. He’s a light-sleeper, though, so be careful.”

Marie placed an arm underneath his legs and wrapped another around his torso, lifting him up successfully. Being that he was limp in her arms, though, Spirit made himself useful and assisted her.

Once they had arrived, Spirit lifted the covers, and Marie placed him underneath them. The two managed to tuck him in and leave without waking him up.

“Yes!” Marie quietly cheered.

They walked back to the living space, sitting next to one another on the sofa.

“What are we going to do now?” Spirit asked exasperatedly.

“What do you mean?”

“We still don’t know how to help the guy,” he threw his hands up, allowing them to fall and smack his thighs.

“Yeah, true…”

“And it’s clear he’s not going to tell us willingly,” Spirit added.

“I guess we can only offer our support. Tell him we’re here if needed,” Marie suggested.

“Seems like our only option at this point,” Spirit sighed.

There was truly no way to know for them. Stein was never an open book, after all. And it’s not as though they understood what was even happening with him.

They’d simply have to patiently wait for him to feel ready to tell them.

[personasdestinyy]

Sorrowful Love | Ch#3 | JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; All he desires is vengeance.

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: thriller, angst, love at first sight, au! sexting

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook × Sena oc!

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This story contains explicit language, graphic violence(murders, blood etc), and other mature content, If you are easily affected by such themes, it might be best to avoid reading it.

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k+

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭⇢

Sena's Pov:

It's been a whole week of non-stop hustle and bustle, and today, as I reluctantly opened my eyes at 8:00 am to start another day at work, I was greeted by a pounding headache and an achy body. It felt as if every single part of me was screaming in pain. To make matters worse, I had a strong suspicion that I was running a fever.

Realizing that going to work in such a state was out of the question, I reached for my phone on the table beside me. With a heavy heart, I composed a message to one of my colleague, explaining my deteriorating health and requesting a two-day absence. After sending the message, I placed my phone back on the table, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment.

As I sat there, tears began to well up in my eyes. The realization hit me hard - when I'm sick, it often feels like I'm all alone. The thought of reaching out to someone for help seemed daunting, as if they would only look at me with pity and sympathy. So, I kept my suffering to myself, silently battling through the pain.

I get up from bed to fetch some medicine, but as I take each step, a dull ache pulses through my body. I shuffle over to the kitchen cabinet, my hand reaching out to open it. Inside, I find the painkiller I desperately need. With a sigh of relief, I grab a tablet and then head to the refrigerator for a water bottle. I twist off the cap, taking a long sip of water before swallowing the pill. Sitting down on the kitchen stool, I cradle my chin in my hands, hoping for some relief.

After a few moments, the pain begins to subside slightly. I rise from the stool and make my way to the bathroom to freshen up. Once I'm feeling a bit more presentable, I select a sky blue crop top and a pair of blue trousers from the wardrobe. After changing, I slip on a pair of my sneakers, secure my mask in place, and grab my phone from the table along with my handbag from the dressing table.

Stepping outside, I make my way to the medical supply store to pick up some much-needed medication.

After a brisk 5-minute walk, I finally reached the pharmacy, eager to pick up my much-needed medication. As I push open the door, a mysterious figure materializes out of thin air, startling or fluttering me to the core. My heart instantly goes into overdrive, pounding against my chest like a wild animal trying to break free. I can't quite fathom why this stranger's sudden appearance has such a profound effect on me, but as he walks past me, time seems to stand still and my gaze fixates on his back.

Feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment, I gave myself gentle pats on my cheeks to regain my composure. Determined not to let my emotions get the best of me, I take a deep breath and step into the pharmacy. As I make my way towards the counter, I can't help but notice that the enigmatic stranger is already standing there. Once again, my eyes are drawn to his back, and I can't help but marvel at how it manages to send my pulse racing like a Formula 1 car.

Shaking off my fascination, I focus on my purpose and head straight for the counter, and stand right beside with this captivating stranger.

'Fuck'

My mind was supposed to be focused on my purpose, but instead, it seemed to have a mind of its own. As I stood there, waiting, I couldn't help but mentally compare my height to his. And of course, I came up short in comparison. It was as if my heart was playing tricks on me, refusing to listen to reason. I tried to ignore the rapid beating in my chest, but it was impossible.

Then, something unexpected happened. He started talking to the pharmacist right in front of me. His voice was like music to my ears, so captivating and wonderful. At that moment, I felt a surge of emotions. It was as if I was falling in love with him right then and there. My heart skipped a beat, and I couldn't help but be mesmerized by his presence.

As I continued to stare at him, I couldn't help but notice every little detail. His jawline was so perfectly chiseled, his side posture exuded confidence, and his hair was effortlessly stylish. Everything about him seemed perfect, and it made my heart flutter.

But then, he looked directly at me. It was as if time stood still, and everything around me faded into the background. At that moment, I felt a mixture of excitement and fear. Excitement because he acknowledged my presence, and fear because I was afraid of what he might be thinking of me.

"Uh, you have been staring at me for two minutes straight. May I ask you why?" he asked, his eyes filled with curiosity. It was at that moment that I realized just how long I had been lost in my thoughts, fixated on him. Panic washed over me, and I desperately searched for an excuse.

"Ahh, I'm sorry," I stammered, avoiding eye contact. "I didn't mean to... I was just... I'm sorry." I quickly turned around without purchasing medication, not daring to look at him again, and hastily made my way out of the pharmacy.

As I walked away, my heart still racing, I couldn't help but wonder what could have been. Maybe one day, fate would bring us together again..

As I finally reached my apartment, my heart continued to race, pounding in my chest for the entire five minutes it took me to get there. The adrenaline coursing through my veins made me feel both excited and anxious. Seeking some relief, I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle. The simple act of drinking the water felt like a temporary distraction from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the task, thoughts of him consumed my mind. It was as if his presence lingered in every corner of my thoughts, driving me to the brink of insanity. I couldn't understand what was happening to me. Was it love? Infatuation? Or something else entirely? All I knew was that my heart couldn't seem to calm down.

Placing my palm over my chest, I could feel the rapid thumping of my heart beneath my touch. It was beating far too quickly, as if trying to escape the confines of my ribcage. I knew I had to find a way to suppress these overwhelming emotions, at least for now. So, I took a deep breath and tried to push them aside.

‘shit’

How foolish of me? I forgot to buy the medicine, the reason I went to the pharmacy, but I came back with a fast beating heart and still aching body from fever. And there's nothing I can do now, I can't go again to the pharmacy.

‘because I'm lazy’

I made my way to the bedroom, seeking solace in the comfort of my bed. I settled down, making myself cozy amidst the soft blankets and pillows. As I did, I reached into the bag’s pocket and pulled out my phone. With a quick swipe, I unlocked the screen and opened Instagram, hoping to find some distraction in the colorful world of social media.

But as the app loaded, a sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. I had completely forgotten about the painting I had been meaning to order, one that maybe would capture the essence of my tumultuous emotions. Without wasting another second, I accessed my contact list and scrolled until I found 'jungkook' name on my contacts.

With a mix of anticipation and nervousness, I tapped on his name and then on the call icon. The phone began to ring, and with each passing second, my heart rate seemed to rise once more.

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐲 (𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝)

[naminethewriter]

One's Hometown, One's New Home

Chapter Five: A Home Full Of Memories

Masterpost | First | Previous | Next | Ao3

@tss-anxceit-week

Summary: Janus’ hometown is a usually quiet place where everyone knows everyone. So when someone new moves in, they’re usually the hottest topic of local gossip. The newcomer then comes by the library Janus works at, he can’t help but chat with him a little. Doesn’t hurt that he’s good looking as well.

Content Warnings: Blood mention, Injuries, Past Parental Death

~*~

Thankfully, Virgil let Janus help him keep his weight off of his injured foot for the short trip back to Janus’ house. It was a two-story building with a big garden that had a few apple trees Janus absolutely adored. He’d lived in this house his entire life apart from the few years he went to college, and it had been in his family’s possession even before his great-grandparents generation.

“That’s a big place for just one person,” Virgil commented as Janus unlocked the front door.

“True. And it’s a bit lonely at times, I’ll admit. But I couldn’t bear to part with it, it holds too many memories.”

“I didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

“I’ve heard that a lot for some reason.”

Janus led Virgil inside and motioned for him to take off his shoes and jacket. While Virgil was still untying the laces on his heavy boots, Janus went to dispose of his grocery bags in the kitchen. When he returned, Virgil was just getting back on his feet.

“Let’s go to the bathroom, I have a first aid kit there,” Janus offered and Virgil nodded, following behind him deeper into the house. In the hallway they passed, Virgil noticed a lot of picture frames on the wall. He could recognize Janus in a lot of them, but there was also an older woman and a pair that were probably his parents.

“You can ask about them if you’re curious.”

Virgil startled. He hadn’t even noticed he’s stopped. Before him was a picture in a slightly bigger frame than the rest that showed all four of the people he had already noticed filled most of the pictures. Janus looked about eight years old, grinning widely from his position between his parents. The older woman stood behind them.

“You don’t mind?” he asked, looking over to Janus, who stood at an open door that led to the previously mentioned bathroom.

“Well, this might take a while, so having a topic to talk about would be preferable, right?”

“Right,” Virgil murmured. He took one last look at the picture before limping over to Janus and entering the bathroom. Janus directed him to sit on the closed toilet lid before kneeling in front of him to inspect his leg.

“I think it would be best if you could take the pants off,” he said after a moment and got back on his feet. He walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a towel. “Here, to cover up. I’ll get what I need from the first aid kit while you get undressed.”

With a nod, Virgil accepted the towel and watched as Janus grabbed the metal box with a red cross on the front and left the room with it. Then he carefully peeled the pants off his leg. He gritted his teeth as the dried blood tried to keep them glued to his leg, but it wasn’t that bad compared to other wounds he’d had in the past. He called out to Janus as soon as he had the towel secured around his waist and was seated on the toilet again.

The other came back in with the metal box opened and organized for their needs. He kneeled back down at Virgil’s feet and got to work.

“Well then, thought of any questions to ask me?” Janus quipped as he cleaned off the dried blood. Virgil glanced down but quickly averted his gaze again. Not because of the blood but because of how close Janus was to him. His face flushed and he cleared his throat.

“Where is your family, if that’s not too personal a question to ask? From the pictures I would have guessed they lived here, too.”

“It’s not,” Janus reassured. “My mom technically still lives here, she’s just traveling. Backpacking in Thailand last I heard. She comes home every once in a while, but not on any regular schedule. My grandmother died a few years back, during my last year in college. She had been sick for a while, so it wasn’t surprising and I got to say goodbye to her properly. I actually inherited this house from her. And my dad…” Janus paused and took a deep breath. “My dad passed away in an accident when I was ten.”

“Oh,” Virgil breathed. “My condolences.”

Janus smiled sadly but didn’t look up.

“Thank you. It wasn’t easy but Mom did her best to console me. She and my grandma worked together to give me everything I could have wanted. I didn’t have to get a job in school and they helped me pay for college.”

They were quiet for a moment since Virgil had no idea how to respond. Instead, he opted to change topics.

“How did you know? That that wolf was me?”

“I didn’t really. Like I said, it was just intuition.”

“That’s some weird intuition you have.”

“I’m aware. Might be because of the naga blood.”

Virgil’s head shot downward, staring at Janus’ head as he bandaged up the wound. He hadn’t even noticed him clean it.

“What do you mean, naga blood?”

“My grandma used to say that we have naga blood running through our veins. Apparently one of my ancestors was a monsterfucker. There’s no proof and I’m not sure I believe it, but I do have a kind of strange sixth sense. I can tell most of the time when someone’s lying to me and I have a good sense for danger.”

“That’s the weirdest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Says the werewolf and cryptid enthusiast.”

“I’d believe in vampires or mermaids, but nagas? Half snake, half human?”

Janus looked up, cocking his eyebrow.

“Why is that so much less believable?”

“I don’t know!”

“Well, you’re the first supernatural creature I’ve met. Makes my grandmother’s stories a lot more believable.”

Virgil’s eyes widened.

“You didn’t know about werewolves until right now?! And you still approached me and let me go?! I could have killed you!”

“I know. But I felt like you wouldn’t. And you didn’t,” Janus smiled. He’d finished bandaging up the wound and put the first aid kit back together.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Again, says the werewolf.” Janus rolled his eyes. “Anyway, the wound looks a lot better than I expected after seeing your leg yesterday.”

“Well, we heal a lot faster than humans. And the wound wasn’t the problem, but I think I might have broken a bone or something. That’ll take a bit longer.”

Janus raised an eyebrow.

“Does it need to be set? Or will it grow back together right on its own?”

“On its own. I don’t really know how that works either, but apparently it snaps itself back to how it’s supposed to be.”

“I am really curious now about how you became a werewolf. It doesn’t seem like you’ve been like this from the start.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes.

“Your naga senses tell you that?” he huffed.

“Maybe,” Janus grinned, and Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll tell you under one condition. ‘Cause I’m not sure I can trust you yet.”

“Alright. Shoot.” Janus leaned against the sink, having put away the first aid kit, and watched Virgil intently.

“You’re asking me something super personal, so I want to know something personal in return.”

Janus hesitated for a moment before nodding, “Go on.”

Virgil sat up a bit straighter.

“When we first met, you said that I was like your father, coming to this town without wanting to talk about the past. I’d like to hear that story first.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Janus sighed.

“Well, I did say I’d tell you if you took me out for a drink, didn’t I?” He chuckled and Virgil could hear the sadness behind it. “Fine, but let’s move this to a more comfortable seat. Join me in the living room?”

[easypeasylindyvesey]

APRIL 2027- PART 23

I’m awoken by what I think happens to be an accidental drop of a cooking pan as it falls to the floor, making a startling loud noise. I lie frozen for a few seconds, giving my brain and body the time to process what I just heard. I hear a “Sorry!” being yelled from the kitchen.

I roll over to the other side of my bed, staring at the early evening sun shining through the sliding doors. I look at the clock on the nightstand. It reads 5:02. Damn, how long was this nap? Guess I needed the rest. I look from the curtains to the ceiling to the TV and to the closed door, where I’ll be met with the noise once I open it. I take a few more minutes to stretch and contemplate the thought of burying myself in here even further before making the hard decision of abandoning the comfort and opening the door to make my way into the kitchen, about to embrace the uncomfortable.

The sound of a sizzling pot heightens my attention. Jimmy’s cooking the chicken that was left on the counter since the early afternoon. His bed head hair has returned, his sweatshirt scrunched up and his concentration on making dinner the correct way so that he doesn’t burn the apartment down. He’s never been that much of a cook, but if someone’s able to cook basic necessities when it comes to food, then it’s not a total loss. I’m not much of a cook, either, mainly because I hate the preparation process, but I’ve started to grow into it for a little while. I’ve utilized the stovetop and oven here several times already.

He’s moving the chicken around in the pot with a plastic spatula before turning to see me creepily standing behind him. “Did I wake you earlier?” he speaks. “I didn’t realize how much of a mess my cabinets were.”

I shake my head. “No, you’re fine. Can’t sleep for too long, anyway.”

“How did you sleep?” He’s genuine when he asks that.

“Good.”

“Do you mean that?”

I stare at him. “Yes. What, you gonna interrogate me every time you think I’m lying?”

“No, of course not,” he replies. “I just want to know, that’s all.”

Yeah, okay. “What about you?”

“Pretty good,” he mumbles. “Hey, you wanna help me out? I’ve got potatoes in the pantry. They’re microwaveable, so you can just toss them in there for however long and then cut them.”

“I can gladly do that,” I boast. I make my way over to the pantry and grab the bag of potatoes from the shelf, and look on the back. They’re supposed to be cooked between 8 and 9 minutes. I settle directly in the middle for 8 minutes and 30 seconds. I think that’s enough time to diffuse the bomb that’s invisible to him.

I punch in the time on the microwave and hit the Start button. I lean back against it, looking at him continuing to cut the rest of the chicken. I’ll wait until he’s done. I don’t want to risk him cutting a finger with the knife, let alone him pointing it at me.

I want to make myself useful, but I don’t know how, so I take out 2 glasses from the top cabinet and place them on the countertop. I take the water pitcher out of the fridge and pour ourselves each a glass. For fun, I put in some ice cubes to keep it cold. He’s gonna need it.

I put the pitcher back in the fridge and walk around the island, pulling out a chair. I sit down and look at the microwave. Two minutes have passed. This is taking way too long. The silence just might kill me.

But I make a choice for it to not.

“Can we, uh, can we talk?” I say to his back.

Jimmy turns down the heat on the stove, turning around to meet my gaze. He steps aside so that he can continue to watch the chicken cook. “Yeah,” he says. “What about?”

How do I say this nicely?

“About the Uber,” I start.

“What, you didn’t like it?” He’s confused.

“No, I mean about us waiting for the Uber.”

He crosses his arms. “What happened before the Uber?”

I sigh. “Remember you told me to let you know if Uber sent a notification confirming our ride?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so when your phone went off while you were in the bathroom, I thought it was them. So, I went to go and see. Only, it wasn’t them. It was a text from Lavi. Apparently, he said that I must’ve been grateful to have you with me, and that what you had to witness was probably scary.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Why would you tell him?”

“Because he’s our coach. He deserves to know.” Really, that’s a valid reason?

“No,” I scoff. “No, he does not. Whatever happened in that room stays in there. Well, at least it was supposed to.”

“What, that’s seriously a rule?” I can’t tell if he’s joking.

“Where the fuck have you been?” I argue. “Yes, it is! I can’t even trust you now!”

“Yes, Abb, you can,” he begins. “I only did it to help you out.”

I get out of my chair and pace over to the living room area. “You did not do it to help me. You did it because you felt the need to involve yourself in something where your concern is not necessary.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I sigh even louder. “It means that everytime I do something, you have to go tell someone else. What’s the point of letting him know? He wasn’t gonna wake up in the middle of the night to come deal with this shit. God, you’re such a fucking blabbermouth, it’s insane. Did anyone ever tell you secrets? Did they even believe that you could keep them? Well, guess what? Now, this one’s out.”

“But it’s not a secret,” Jimmy says. I can sense the agitation increasing in his voice. “It didn’t have to be.”

“It could’ve been something that only both of us had to be there for!” I yell. I’m almost at my wits end. “And why the fuck did you tell everyone else?”

“I didn’t tell everyone else,” he mutters quickly. He looks up at the ceiling.

“Do not play fucking dumb with me right now, you did, Jimmy! Jesus Christ, why would you do that?!”

“I wanted to help you!”

“You’re doing anything but helping me! You’re making it so much worse!”

“Hey, I’m not the one that woke up screaming “Help me!”, okay? I took it as a sign that you were subconsciously asking for it.”

“I was screaming “Help me!” because he was being lowered into the ground while he was still alive, and all the dirt fell on top of him, and then they slammed his headstone to seal it shut. I couldn’t help him!”

“Yeah, and you wouldn’t have been able to in real life, anyway. Not even if he was bleeding out right next to you.”

Since when did he get so violent with his words? I guess this is his coping mechanism.

“Even if you both went home together that night, and if the accident still happened, and it was the same result, you would have not been able to save him, Abby. I’m telling you the truth. The only thing you would’ve been able to do is say your goodbyes while he could still hear them. And yeah, he didn’t die immediately, but you still would’ve had to prepare yourself for the worst case scenario. No one would’ve been able to help you, then. And according to you, no one can help you now.”

I move to stand in front of the TV. “I never asked for it. You just assumed that I needed it given the situation. I don’t like that you view me as some liability.”

“Is that what you think this is?”

“YES!” I yell so loud that I am sure it’s silenced the nearby apartments. The only sounds I hear are the pan on the stove and the beeping on the microwave, telling me the potatoes are ready.

“I’m not doing this again,” Jimmy announces.

“Fine, take the easy way out, then,” I snap back. “Like you always do.”

“Since when do I take the easy way out?”

I bury my face in my hands. “You are deliberately choosing to project my instances of weakness and spread them around to everyone else you know like it’s a rumor. Instead of coming to me to talk about it, you defer it off of everyone else to make sure they know so that in case they ask me about it, the first thing I won’t assume is that you told them. Yet, you still did.”

“I told you - I didn’t,” he says sternly. “I told Lavi, and then he told the rest of them.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Abby, c’mon-”

“You seriously expect me to believe that after you just lied to my face? God, you’re a fucking shit show.”

“You’re been performing like you’re in one.”

The silence creeps in again.

“Just thought I’d mention that Goody asked me how I was feeling after it happened while we were on the plane. He told me that you told everyone that I woke up screaming.”

He stares at me again, his lips folded into a frown.

“You’re a liar.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“You really thought you’d get away with it, didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t trying to get away with anything. I was just-”

“Trying to help me, said no one.”

“Are we done here?”

I laugh maniacally. “See, here we go again. Now who’s the one rushing?”

“Don’t do that.”

“As a matter of fact, I will.”

Jimmy turns around to shut off the stove. The smell of freshly cooked chicken evaporates into the air. It smells so good. I walk over to the island and take a long sip of water before his nonsense continues.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you.”

I shake my head. “Too late for that.”

“Abby, it’s not that big of a deal. Everyone was concerned about you. I swear, no one was wondering why it happened or what exactly you were panicking about. I didn’t actually tell them the reason why.”

It’s not that big of a deal.

“So, if I told everyone that you woke up screaming for no reason, you’d be fine with it?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not convinced.”

“You’d be okay with meeting up with them for the first time since it happened, and it wouldn’t occur to you that the first thought they had once they saw you is ‘Oh, hey, he had a panic attack?’ You wouldn’t care, whatsoever?”

“No.”

“So what made you think it’d be okay to tell everyone? Because it’s me?”

“Because I was worried.”

“Then you tell me that you’re worried. You don’t go around gossiping to everyone else. They could’ve gone the rest of their lives not knowing that. Why couldn’t it have just stayed between us?”

He doesn’t speak again.

“Have you ever thought to think about how I feel? How that affected me? Because it was scary. I’ve never had one before. I seriously had no idea what was going on. I thought that I was stuck in some world that I never thought I’d get out of. You have no idea what it feels like to be haunted by the same face every single waking minute of every single day. Do you?”

He looks down at his feet.

I take another long sip of water. “That’s what I thought.”

“What the hell do you want me to do, Abby? Huh? What would make you feel better?”

“Staying out of my way,” I confirm.

“I do stay out of your way.”

I laugh again. “And for my next magic trick, I present another lie!”

“What do you mean? I do.”

“Like hell you don’t! You’re always there, in my space. Next to me, in front of me, behind me, across the room. I literally feel like I’m suffocating.”

“Then if you want space, go the fuck back home.”

“You’re the one who said we shouldn’t be by ourselves,” I retort. “I took it to heart.”

“Oh, you did? Are you sure you didn’t replace your heart with Ryan’s?”

He’s just reached a whole new level of low. I want to take that knife he cut the chicken with and drag it along his skin before I impale it through him. What a fucking jerk.

I held on for as long as I could, but frustrated tears escape my eyes. I cannot believe that I have to put up with this. Out of all the men I’ve ever known, I never thought his kind and quiet persona was a lifelong mask for his insecurity.

“Are you gonna cry every time I say something to you?” Jimmy has the nerve to ask. I guess he’s always sucked at reading the room. “You’re the one telling me to communicate, yet you can’t even do it yourself.”

I’ll do him one better.

I clench my fists and release my hands, spreading my fingers apart. If I had any strength in my hands, I could wreck that baby face of his. He sure doesn’t look like a man with that, and he sure as hell doesn’t act like one.

“Well?”

“I hate you,” I mutter.

“For what? Me being honest?”

“For you being a dick.”

“I’m just telling it like it is. If anything, you’re the one not handling it properly.”

“Are you trying to gaslight me?”

“I’d never attempt to gaslight someone who hasn’t been in their right mind. That’s just wong.”

“You’re wrong.”

“About what?”

“About everything.”

“And what does that constitute?”

“Giving me a timeline on how long to grieve, showing too much emotion, being embarrassed.”

He furrows an eyebrow. “Embarrassed about what?”

“You.”

He elicits a sarcastic laugh. “You know, for what it’s worth, Abby, at this rate, you should’ve just went and died with him.”

“And you should’ve died on the way to the hospital.”

“Not before I know you’re out of here. My heart would feel so much lighter, knowing I wouldn’t have had to deal with you and your constant crying and the constant burden that you give me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that so? I’ve only been helping you, right?”

“Stop.”

“What? That’s my only use. I’m not here to make you feel better. I’m here to put up with you because he was unable to do it himself. Actually, that’s a lie. He did it for almost 2 years.”

I lift the glass cup in my right hand.

“It’s a shame he never got to 2, is it?”

I start to lightly toss it in my palm.

“Guess he wanted an easy way out.”

I throw the glass near his head, but I miss and it hits the oven and bounces off onto the floor. Then, I take his glass that he didn’t drink out of and toss all of the water into his face, watching it drip down his sweatshirt. He looks up at me, mouth agape. My face is tear-stained, beet red, both hands shaking.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Damn right I did,” I croak, my voice dry from all the times I raised my voice.

“You know what? You can go to your room.”

“Don’t talk to me like a child.”

“Isn’t that the way you’re acting right now?���

I take the knife resting on the countertop and throw it down on his socks. 

“Wow. For someone so strong, you know how to retreat real quickly when it gets bad.”

Streams of tears escape my eyes. “Shut up.”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“It’s what I always wanted you to do!” I shrill scream.

He reaches down to pick up the knife and points it at me, the blade in complete alignment with my chest. And yet I said that I was afraid of him doing that. “Consider it done.” He opens up the utensil drawer and places it back with all the other knives, shutting it close. He stares back at me, giving me the biggest death glare I’ve ever seen. He should’ve killed me when he had the chance.

I turn around and make my way out of the kitchen, walking through the door into my room, slamming the door behind me. Yeah, I did it on purpose. He’s grown enough to handle all the noise. I immediately fumble with the lock so that he has no chance of getting in here, unless he takes out a knife from the kitchen and uses it to unlock the door, or he breaks it down with his own bare hands or perhaps throwing a larger piece of furniture. I don’t think he’s gonna take that opportunity, though, as I hear another slam of a door, which I can guarantee is his own. I break into another fit of sobs, leaning my back against the wall, letting them escape without another pair of eyes judging me. He’s probably going to always see me as weak, isn’t he? Too emotional? Too sensitive? Always stuck in the same place?

With the tiniest amount of courage I have, I push myself off the wall and walk over to the edge of the bed, sitting down. I blankly stare at the TV, and then at the closet. It just occurred to me that all of the stuff I brought with me from the condo has been placed in the closet that’s closest to the bed. This one is empty.

I get up, again, and approach the closet, turning the handle. When I open it, I almost expect for something to jump out of me, but I’m met with absolutely nothing. How did I not think to spread all of my shit out? Why am I cramming everything into one space? The irony that I’m currently doing that with my emotions is what I consider to be diabolical, yet fitting. Maybe I should move some things? No, I’m not up for that right now. Although, it is pretty spacious enough for me to hide in case he comes looking for me if we have another argument like this ever again. He can’t hurt me if he can’t see me.

This was not how it was supposed to go. We were supposed to have dinner, make small talk, perhaps watch TV to distract our minds and thoughts. I don’t wanna say I’m underreacting. I will admit that I didn’t have to yell at Jimmy like that, but deep down, I think he knows I’m right. He’s not helping me get through this. In fact, he’s digging the hole a little bit deeper each day. What happened to the idea of us being there for each other? Sticking together when times got tough? It’s going to get worse before it gets better. He’s acting as if I’m the one disrupting his routine, which I guess I am. In the short time I’ve known him, I never would’ve thought he’d be so cruel and careless with his words. I’ve never seen him leave his even-tempered state. I know he didn’t yell, but I’m taking this as a buildup of what’s to come. He’s going to yell and scream and lose both his voice and his mind, and it’s going to be because of me. Heck, maybe he’ll point a knife at me again. Shifting the blame is certainly how he deals with emotions.

I leave the closet door open and make my way over to the window. I forgot that the curtains are still open from my nap. I place my hand on the door to the outdoor balcony and twist the handle, being met with the cool early evening April air. High-thin clouds have infiltrated their way across the sun, so it’s not as bright. My eyes have become dry and crusty from the tears. I look down and watch the traffic zoom right on by before I get the chance to hyperfixate on a certain car or a certain building. I see some people roaming on the sidewalk. Some have their dogs, others are going for a quick walk, and here I am, in my present role as the observer and never the partaker.

My feet make their way to stand on separate sides of the balcony railing, my hands following pursuit. I rock back and forth, wondering if I should make the choice. I mean, after all, he wouldn’t be there to catch me. He’d have to continue his streak of not being able to help. Only this time, it would’ve been out of his control. In fact, I think at this rate, he’d strongly encourage it, considering how much of a burden I am.

I look out into the sky, taking deep breaths as I watch the sun slowly start to fade away and the clouds take over. Damn, even the weather knew the change in the mood.

“Why would you do this to me?” I mutter. “Why would you leave me with him?”

Come on, Ry. I know you’re listening.

“He fucking sucks,” I continue.

Didn’t I know that already?

“Can you just, like, knock some sense into him or something?”

The wind starts to shift, my hair moving with the breeze. It feels calm, yet I’m not relaxed. Maybe it can blow the stained tear mess off my face.

I guess he heard that one.

“I can’t put up with this forever,” I tell him. “Can’t you just come back or something?”

We both know that won’t work.

“If you wanna help, you gotta make it easier on me. I feel like I’m doing all of this by myself, now more than ever because I can’t trust him. How did I ever?”

It’s true, because how did I? Prior to this, we were good friends. We’d text and go strolling through the city and talk nonsense. I never really got angry in front of him or cried or anything. He’d always do whatever he could to make my life a little bit easier and never ask for anything in return. Given what just ensued, I can ponder that maybe he does want something. I’m just not sure what.

“I miss you,” I conclude. “I hope you’re doing alright.”

And with that, I step off the balcony and walk back into my room, shutting the doors and closing the curtains. I would take a shower, but that would mean I’d have to leave, and I don’t want to risk another confrontation. Instead, I settle for a more comfortable alternative, something that could never hurt me.

My bed.

I never remade it when I got up from my nap because I would’ve just been crawling back into it anyway, so I prop up some pillows and lean my head back against them. I reach for the remote on the nightstand and turn on the TV. If this isolation is going to be the result of every argument, I just might not survive.

[imapuppy5000]

Mary’s return part 3

Probably only one part left

Rosalina belongs to @mirconreadzztuff22

Sage belongs to @theacedragon0w0

Hazel belongs to @puffymucher



The next day Vlk was out of the tower and never came in for work, the polycule obviously assuming the worst, went on a search for her. Hazel and Sage went down to the hotel and Rosalina and Velvette headed down to the fox’s old apartment. They had already scavenged the studio only to come up short.

Rosalina knocked on the door, crouched at a weird angle due to the short ceilings. There was a groan followed by a sharp, “Fvck off I’m busy!” That clearly resembled Mary’s slightly reptilian accent.

Velvette knocked louder and more aggressively, pounding on the door until finally it was opened. Mary’s hands were bloody as she glared at the two, “What do you want?! I said I'm busy!”

“Where’s Vlk?”

“She’s inside. Currently she’s got a gash in her back that won’t stop bleeding so if you’ll excuse me, I have to go deal with that.” Mary’s attempt to close the door got nowhere as Rosalina barged in and Velvette stamped on Mary’s already broken ankle, earning a curse and a cry.

The pair rushed to the bathroom and saw Vlk sitting on a stool, looking tired. She glanced at the mirror and startled. “Hey.” She said awkwardly, immediately grabbing a towel and wrapping it over herself to hide her cut. “What are y’all doing here? Oh what time is it?! Am I late?!”

“Yes, you never showed up, we were worried sick about you! What happened, let me see.” Rosalina insisted, pulling on the towel.

Vlk held tighter, blushing, “No, No it’s okay. It’s just a little scratch. Mary was just patching me up.”

Rosa looked over her, concern evident in every wrinkle.

Velvette shook her head. “Tell us what that b-ch did.”

“That b—ch did nothing, thank you very much.” Mary growled, holding onto the door frame for support. “She got into a fight at a bar and asked me to come patch her up cause I know how to suture wounds. Now if you could let me finish so she doesn’t continue to bleed out that’d be nice.” Mary shoved her way into the room and limped over, sitting on the toilet and tugging on the towel. This time Vlk let it slide off, which did hurt her partners a little.

“I didn’t want you guys to worry.” Vlk muttered, looking astray as Mary picked up where she left off. “And Mary is good at patching me up so I was just gonna have them do it and pretend it never happened.”

Rosa and Velvette glanced at each other before Velvette asked, “What were you doing at a bar, you never drink.” To which Mary laughed loudly.

“What’s so funny?” Velvette growled.

“I used to struggle to keep her out of the alcohol cabinet, no way in hell she got better about it while she was literally in hell where vices are encouraged.”

“I don’t need to drink anymore.” Vlk hissed, ears flat. “I’m on meds that help.”

“Really? The thing I tried to get you on for years?”

“Yes.” Vlk’s voice was tense. “I tried them and they worked and I’ve been on them since. You should be happy I’m not constantly depressed anymore.”

“I- I am but why didn’t you change with me?! What’s different now? You’re in hell you should be living it up like you wanted to, going out killing whoever you want, getting wasted, the whole thing. Instead you’re here getting better?”

Vlk looked at her partners and her face softened slightly before turning back to Mary. “Yes. They encourage me to get better. Unlike you who always brought out my worst flaws.”

“Your best traits.” Mary corrected. They reached over and washed their hands as Velvette asked, “So why the bar?”

“I was in a mood and looking for a fight. Emotions were high, is all. Bar fights are safest ‘cause a bouncer will stop the fight before someone dies.”

Mary hummed and nodded at that.

“Well whatever the reason, I think it’s time to go home. Everyone’s worried about you.”

“Okay. Just let me get dressed.” Vlk smiled softly and carefully made her way to the dresser.

As she was getting dressed Mary and Rosa stared at the other. “I guess that’s my cue to leave?” Mary asked, breaking eye contact and pulling a bottle out of a drawer. She popped one of the pills and put it back before grabbing a makeshift cane and trotting out of the building.

Vlk was brought home and fussed over. Her partners found a few more cuts and bruises that were hidden and a few very distinctive bite marks but didn’t ask questions. Vlk was glad for it as she doubted she could make up another lie.

She went to bed early, rubbing her arms tenderly.

“We’re not letting them get away with this, are we?” Hazel growled when Vlk had left.

“F—k no!” “Definitely not.” “No. I think it’s time we step in.”

“Good.” The hound nodded with an evil grin.

[we-are-so-close]

Ghost of You Asahi x reader; Hurt - No Comfort A/N: sorry, i'm feeling very sad and this is the only thing that came to my mind; i've been crying about it all day. not edited

The light around the room began to fade in and out; your consciousness was right in that space between awake and asleep. A light creaking startled you back to the realm of awake. You looked around to see nothing, you figured it was just the sound of the house settling. A heavy feeling sat deep in your chest as you balled yourself back up into the recliner. 

“______.” Nothing but a whisper, but it was able to pull you up right once more. This time when you opened your eyes, Asahi stood over top of you. 

“Staying up late waiting for me, again?” He softly smiled. “That’s a good way to get sick, and we can’t have that.” 

You stared at him, the heavy feeling in your chest slowly relieving itself. “I’d stay up all night waiting for you, Asahi,” you smiled back. 

“When was the last time you ate? Don’t tell me you were waiting for me,” his smile never waivered. 

“It’s not the same without you, though.”

“I know, baby. But, you’ve got to think of yourself sometimes. C’mon, let’s go make a snack.” He ushered you up and followed you into the kitchen. You got out two plates and scoured through the pantry to find something quick and easy to make. 

“Are you hungry? Do you want something?” you asked, but it was more of a formality as you were preparing something for him anyway. 

“I’ll eat later, I want to make sure you eat.” He stood in the doorway and watched you with gentle eyes as you nibbled on what you call “lazy dude’s grilled cheese”. It consists of two pieces of lightly toasted bread and cheese that you put in the microwave long enough for the cheese to melt. It’s lazy, sure, but it’s also one of your comfort meals. It comes in handy. 

“Have you had water today, my love?” 

“Asahi,” you whined. 

He continued to stand in the doorway, his eyes moving from you to the cabinet, giving a nod. You sighed heavily, but got up and poured yourself some water. Your eyes never left his as you took several big gulps. 

“There. Are you happy?” you raised your eyebrows at him. 

“You always make me happy,” he chuckled. “When was the last time you showered?”

There was a long silence. The only noise was the sound of the water running over the dishes, the first time in a few days that the pile in the sink had even been looked at. You poured nonsense designs with the soap over the dirty dishes and just let the water suds up. 

“______,” Asahi said, this time with a more serious tone to his voice. 

You shuffled the dishes in the bubbles, that heavy feeling in your chest began to return. Quietly grumbling to yourself, you said just above a whisper, “it’s been a few days.”

“A nice warm shower will make you feel better, I know you know this, baby.” His features return to the gentleness you’re so used to. 

“You’re right, my love. I don’t know where my mind’s been lately.” 

As you stared down the dark hallway, it seemed to be an endless void. A terrible feeling in your stomach began to bubble, your throat began to tighten, your legs felt like they were encased in cement. 

“Hey, you’re just a few more steps away from the bathroom. You deserve a hot shower,” you could hear him from behind you. 

“Will you stay with me?” you twiddled your fingers, feeling nervous for what seemed to be awaiting you. “Please?”

“Of course, my love.” 

Asahi was right; the warmth of the shower melted away some of the stress you had built up and relieved a lot of the tension you were holding. Every few minutes you peeked your head out of the shower to see Asahi standing in the doorway, smiling softly at you and you would smile back. Things felt peaceful at the moment. 

As nice as the shower felt, it felt even better to clean your face and brush your teeth. You kept stealing glances from Asahi, feeling a little bashful as he watched you dutifully. His eyes were full of love and warmth and it reminded you of how much you really loved him. 

“It’s time for bed, my love,” he said softly as he pushed himself off of the doorframe and made his way toward the bed. You climbed into bed and pulled the covers over you. The bed was soft and you might have fallen asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, but your eyes stayed focused on Asahi. 

“I hope you know how much I love you, ______. You mean the world to me. Please, take care of yourself better. For me for now. And then you do it for you. I know you can do it. I love you. Forever and always, babe.” The warmth of his kiss lingered on your temple, it radiated throughout your whole head. 

“Asahi, I love you more than life itself. Are you coming to bed with me?” you asked, as you snuggled under the blanket a little more. You were met with utter silence. A terrible feeling pierced your heart as you called out for Asahi again. Fighting the blankets off of you, you sat up and scanned the room in a panic. No sight of him could be found anywhere, you quickly turned on the side table lamp. 

And then the realization hit you. Asahi’s side of the bed was the same as the day he didn’t return home. You didn’t have it in you to even touch it, his pillow turned cockeyed, his blankets folded over one another in a clumped up mess. The clothes he laid out for the evening you had planned that day still sat on the end of the bed. You’d been sleeping with one of his sweaters, in hopes that the fabric could make up for what was missing. And for a while, the scent of him was enough to quell something. 

But now, the scent was gone and you were afraid that little piece of him you had left was slowly fading. Would you soon forget what he smelled like? What he sounded like? You called his phone everyday just so you could hear his voicemail, but you no longer got his voice message, you only got the automated message that said “this voicemail box is full”. After a few days of the automated message, you stopped trying. If you were honest, you had no idea where your phone was.

You tried everything you could to keep him with you, but no matter how hard you tried, you could feel him and his memories slip bit by bit. Crying yourself to sleep was the norm at this point. So, for now, that’s what you would do. You’ll cradle the sweater once more to try to get the last bit of him. And hope that it’s enough to bring him back, even if just for a moment. 

[mionie]

🅂🅄🅁🆅🄸🅅🄰🄻 🄼🄸🅂🅂🄸🄾🄽 🄸🄽 🆃🄷🄴 🅆🄾🅁🄻🄳 🄾🅵 🄿🄶🅁

Log_003

"What's wrong with you this time?" Lee's voice startled Julia from her musing. Her lips quivered up, facing him with the best smile she could muster, "'wrong with me?' Hm, I don't see anything wrong with me."

He grimaced, noting the shake in her hands as she had her meal. 

She was aware that he was doubting her. With how his stern eyes narrowed and she could have swore he was making deductions based on her actions. She lowered her hands, settling the cutleries on the plate and stood up.

Not good... I'm going insane...

Prior to her meal, as she finished her long bath, she wrapped the clean towel around her, noticing scars riddled across her 'body' and the lean muscles contracting with her every move. A body that does not belong to her. With this sight alone, she was more convinced that she transmigrated to PGR, or more suitably, possessed the Commandant right now.

A shiver ran down her arms. Even the warm bath did not help settle the anxiousness she was feeling. But more so than that, standing in the middle of the bathroom would not improve her mentality either.

She walked to the bathroom sink where a fresh set of uniform was folded on top of the counter. Unfolding the uniform, she raised it in front of her. Similar to the uniform of Commandants in the game, it was of blue material and thick to the touch. If she could recall, Simon had similar design to what she was about to wear. Setting it aside, she first wore a long-sleeved, black turtle neck shirt above her undergarments, then slipped on the blue official shirt and pants, before doning the infamous Babylonia jacket. 

Sighing, she rummaged in the cabinets for a comb and went to the full-body mirror near the door and screamed.

"Commandant!!" Voices of Lucia and Liv reached her hearing from behind the closed bathroom door, knocking endlessly in fear of something happening to her.

"I'm, I'm fine!.... I'm fine... I just... slipped...?"

"Are you sure, Commandant? Are you okay?! Liv, stand back--!"

"No! It's okay, Lucia, Liv! I'll be out in a minute... I'm still not dressed yet..." Julia's hands shakily reached for her reflection. This cannot be...

"... as you command."

She was taller than her original self, far stronger than she expected. Of course, every commandants had to undergo training in the academy. But it was not her 'body' she was shocked of, no... She was scared of her head.

Her face... has no definite features. Eyes, nose, ears, and mouth were present but they kept on changing, glitching to another feature. It also affected her hair. It keeps on glitching to other color and texture.

She fell to the side, away from the mirror and feeling her face and hair. Feeling whether they were there. She grabbed her hair that fell on her shoulders and it was auburn in color, just like her original color. It was not glitching and she checked her other body parts, whether she was glitching elsewhere. She gulped, hard. Crawling to the mirror, she closed her eyes before she would see herself once again. 

Wait, maybe I was more tired than I thought that it affected my mental stability?... Goodness, I pray so...

Slowly, she opened her eyes and she almost fainted then and there on the floor. It's real... 'this' is all real...

The same phenomenon she saw before, her facial features glitched randomly. She ran to the door, having more than enough horror of own self.

"Commandant!" Liv proceeded checking her while Lucia's blade were drawn. Dawn entered past Julia, ready to slash any intruder of the Babylonia transport terminal.

Their room door opened and came in Lee, witnessing the commotion of the female members of his team with a raised brow, "... I brought what you wanted, Commandant."

"Thank you..."

"Lee, confirm the number of individuals within the perimeter." Lucia said, emerging from the bathroom. With the fast calculation of Palefire, he also drew his guns, "36 figures along the corridor. Lucia--"

"Wait! Both of you!" Julia said from the bed with Liv tucking her in. Sighing, she motioned for them to ease down, "there is no need for that. I just slipped in the bathroom. We should use this chance to rest before going back to HQ."

They nodded and Liv and Lucia went to the pods before entering sleep mode. Lee went to the other bed and proceeded with cleaning his dual guns. Moments later, food arrived and Julia recieved it, careful not to disturb the resting constructs. She ate her meal on her bed and saw herself glitching from her reflection on the glass of water, which brought her to her current problem.

After forcefully swallowing the rather bland food, she reached for the notebook and started writing.

1. Manifest inner Commandant.

On the side, she drew a line connecting them to a bubble of the personality of the commandant based on what she remembered: caring, self-sacrificing, mischievous, hard-working, kind, strong, clever.

She paused, her eyes drifting around the room to the form of Lee cleaning and to the two sleeping constructs. She added another trait and connected it to the first phrase.

Has a harem.

"Ahem!" She coughed, hiding the snicker behind her fists then she stopped. Right, sooooooo... It would be me having a harem then?

Groaning, she rubbed her temple and scooped another food in her mouth. As a player that has a major adoration of the game, she was aware of the fanfictions written by other people, either shipping the Commandant with the constructs, or constructs paired to another construct. It was entertaining to see the various ships within the fandom and she also participated in making theories and ships. 

She glanced at Lee. For example...

Julia almost choked on her food and sat up straight. Right!

The affection stories!

The affection stories were the most important bases on her interaction with the constructs. Problem was, she was unable to grow the affection level for all the characters. She was an F2P player and it was more than fine since PGR was F2P friendly, however, because of her busy schedule her time playing the game were sometimes sacrificed, missing her daily missions for the rewards. And because of the lack of black cards for pulling characters on A-rank banner or the limited S-rank banner, sometimes for their exclusive 6-star weapons, she settled on the available characters and unlocking their affection stories.

And because of that, she would be uninformed of how the Commandant interacted with them. Or even additional data and secrets they have.

Finishing her meal, she closed her notebook and turned to Lee who was also looking at her.

She tried calming her already stressed heart and held his calculating gaze, "Lee, I will be asking you questions, and don't ask nor wonder why I'm asking you such questions."

He gave a curt reply, resuming in wiping clean the dismantled pieces, "... Shoot."

"Okay," she started, "first, Liv mentioned this before. What was my injury before and when exactly did it happen?"

He raised a brow but relplied nonetheless, "you receive many injuries everytime we have our mission."

"If that's the case, which was the one Liv was referring to?"

"It's the heavy injury on your back a week ago. You landed on your back from the fourth floor of a complex. Liv checked it and it was a 3rd degree bruise."

Really? But why is it I didn't feel any pain? I should check it in the mirror–no, scratch that out.

"... I see. Second, give me the full description of the our current assignment."

He sighed, "I don't know the full details."

"What? Why is that?"

"We were given the description of the mission, yes, but the full description was only for the Commandant to see."

Shoot, so that means this was rather secretive then?

"Then tell me what was given to you."

Lee opened his terminal in the holographic screen.

Her eyes skimmed through the document and tried to make sense of the terminologies used inside the letter. It was obvious she would be clueless about military terminologies as she was just a normal civilian back in her world. But those words aside, she could connect the pieces together. The Gray Ravens were sent to clear a specific area for the expansion of reclaimed land on Earth.

But this was on the side of her team, her side was a mystery. What's sent to me?

"This was for us. The Commandant's been given the same thing but with the additional information."

Julia's white-gray eyes looked past the screen and met Lee's, "you sound like you know something."

"I don't, but I know that this mission was specifically a secret mission. It was obvious."

"Even if you were members of the Gray Raven?"

"Right."

"Then how come they kept it a hush to you guys when they gave it to Gray Ravens?"

"We are constructs, we are liable to report based on what we witness. They can also program into our M.I.N.D. when they suspect that we were hiding something."

"So that's why then..." If the higher-ups wanted this to be kept secret, then of course the Commandant was only given the raw information.

"Also, they will hack your memories?"

"Yes. Constructs--"

"No, don't answer that," she cutted him short.

No. If I remember correctly, Gray Ravens was among the Elite squads of the Babylonia. And I don't think there should be a need to hide full details regarding the mission to them...

Everything they do in the game required the full involvement of the team. This was the first time Julia witness her construct members excluded of the whole information. Is it possible to operate effectively with them not knowing the totality of the description?

"... Thank you, Lee." 

He just went back to his task silently, allowing Julia to settle her messy thoughts peacefully. With the limited information available, she resigned herself to fate for the meeting in the following day back at Babylonia.