#i went with something based off of the sign descriptions

[kaszuma]

Oxygen is all we need | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 5 of “Certainly Yours”

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader

summary: you rarely see soshiro be breathless on the battlefield. And the one time you did, it was coerced by a sentient Numbers Weapon you had created.

warnings: NSFW explicit scenes with plot, mentions of sexual m/f activity, Fingering/handjob with Combat Suit on, Semi-public fingering/handjob, Hoshina being a little feral, slight description of gore for dissecting combat suits, mentions of injury for Hoshina, SPOILERS for Kn8 manga

wc: 7,719

–

note: Please tell me if I missed any warnings. There's kind of a lot. NSFW part was originally gonna be some soft lovemaking type of writing. But I figured I could save that for a future part. Went too feral on his Number 10 Combat Suit from reading the manga lmao. This is not proofread

–

Soshiro Hoshina, was an enigma.

He had always been that way to his peers. He was no different to you, now that you had been privy to see a small part of his life that people have yet to pry open.

Despite the laid-back persona he'd exemplify, you were always aware of the disciplined and hard working nature he hid beneath the surface of his jokes and smiles. And his everyday life only showed a fraction of this side of him that no one seems to pay attention to.

All except you of course, who had been keeping an eye on him well before the two of you started dating.

It started in the little actions he'd take. From the early hours of the morning, he'd wake up on the dot just to grab a cup of coffee before the day had turned busy. The privacy of his office had been made neat, filled with finished paperwork that he'd arranged the day before. Leaving room for him to swing his sword in the training rooms until the cool nights of the summer where even cicadas started sleeping early.

His comrades? Fast asleep in their bunks. Unaware that the Vice Captain was sweating. Recreating the battles he's faced in the wake of an emergency. Where Tachikawa's base had been left in his hands.

Every failure, every mistake, every mishaps he had allowed. He had made sure to embed the consequences deep into his body. Making a vow to never let anyone catch him off guard. Kaiju or humans included. And although it was a rare sight. Even you, his lover. Had not seen him work himself breathless.

Not once had you caught him wheezing to catch up. His hard work, hidden under people's watch.

His efforts were definitely there. But no one had been able to see his training first hand. Leaving people to chalk it up to simply talent, or the bloodline of his ancestry belonging to a family of generational Kaiju Slayers.

But his hard work, though hidden. Had not all been in vain. As he of all people knew deep down that he worked–no, strived to become better. To prove his existence in the field. And you, had strived to make it happen in the wake of Kaiju Number 10 readying itself to be weaponized upon your command.

It had been a few days since you and a team of technicians had decidedly worked on converting Kaiju no. 10 as a plausible weapon. A suit befitting for your lover to wear.

The first time you had seen its deformed body, trapped in a tank for containment. It had chilled you to the bone. When it briefly made eye contact with you. As if it knew something deep within your body that you hadn't known yet. Its one eye continuously staring at your form, in a strange admiration. Similar to how it looked to Soshiro.

Admiration was one thing. But said admiration coming from a potentially dangerous Kaiju was another. Such is the way of their line of work.

Surprisingly, anytime the tank had been registered open. You had not seen Kaiju no. 10 struggle at all in its restraints. Not at all bothered at the mere fact that its life was threatened to be converted into a weapon. The plates of armor, although mangled. Had not shown any signs of tension. And each incision you'd make was relaxed. The formation of the modified Combat Suit was simple. Unrestrained, even. To the point that it would obediently let you slice it as you wished. To shape and mold it to the combat suit you wished to make.

Hell, it even went as far as to talk you through it when you were removing the last bits of his shattered headpieces. Leaving the core and its surrounding muscle fibers intact. Beating, breathing like a heart. “So this is the one huh?” You heard it's gurgled laughter. As if you had not been cutting it open for hours by now.

Soshiro and a few soldiers were stationed right behind you. A team of other technicians and scientists assisting your movements to place the armor pieces together. The tension in the room was heavy, weapons readied in the case of an emergency. But like always, the Kaiju had all but stayed completely still. Obedient with a few laughs here and there for the hell of it.

“Even his woman is a weapons creator. I really did make the right decision to join forces with you, Swordsman.” Kaiju no. 10 had spoken. And you look over to Soshiro wearily at the way it had so easily figured out your relationship with him. It’s as if it read his mind, which both startled and irked your lover to no end.

“Shut yer’ trap. By the time she's done with you, you're as good as obedient to me.” You had seen the way Soshiro had glared at the dismembered monster. And the way his voice had lowered an octave. It made you momentarily forget that you were in a room full of people.

You purse your lips. Trying not to focus on his smooth voice. Not when you were potentially busy dealing with a Kaiju that had not been fully weaponized yet.

You had all but shook your head. No, get your mind out of the gutter.

“Stop provoking each other.” You spoke, pulling away at the last bit of veins connected to the hardened plating. "I'm trying to work here.”

You let out a sigh. Eventually taking the last muscle fiber and attaching the last bit of the Kaiju’s parts onto the mold of the suit. Its shape fully formed right besides its old carcass that had been readily discarded afterwards. The Combat Suit took ages to cut apart. With its armor far too hard to penetrate with just a scalpel alone. But somehow you and your team had managed. And all somehow went according to the blueprints you made.

The suit was the right size. The plating was sturdy, amplified with shields and wires that would support its structure. And the fact that it had an added limb for a tail. Its extension beautifully connected to the lower end of its spine that completed the look.

Number 10 had not made a single sound as it had likely died from being weaponized. Like the rest of the Kaiju before it. And you mentally pat yourself on the back for a job well done for making quick work of him.

Or at least..that's what was supposed to happen. “Wear me, swordsman. I want to fight something already.”

Huh?

“It's still speaking?” You had felt yourself be pulled back. Soshiro had wasted no time getting in front of you. Hand already on the hilt of his swords, as the weaponized Kaiju stared straight back at him. This time, instead of a mangle corpse, it had been a combat suit. Capable of speech and thought processing.

“Why is it still sentient?” He had glanced back at you. And you can see the faint traces of his still fresh bandages wrap around his lower neck, within the zipper of his jacket.

“I don't know.” You had spoken truthfully. “We've never had to weaponize a sentient Kaiju before.” You had replied. Weary of the tension in the room. Soshiro's back had all but blocked your view from the Combat Suit. And it laughed when the rest of the technicians also backed up. Cowering behind some of the soldiers who already had their guns raised. Pointed straight at the tank that held the completed weapon.

“Is it safe to use?” Soshiro asked.

“It should be. The rest of his core can't sync up to his body anymore, so I doubt he can kill anyone right now.” You explained. Not once had Soshiro looked away from the suit.

You had watched as Soshiro wearily stood straighter. This time, raising his hand so that the rest of the soldiers would lower their aimed weapons. And although they had been hesitant, they had done exactly that. With the weaponized Kaiju not reacting at all in fact.

“Well this isn't good..” He whispered. Skeptical about letting you get any closer to it as the Kaiju inside of it seemed ecstatic. Screaming praises towards you, excited that it might be worn soon. And Soshiro twitched, his smile irritated more than usual.

“It..probably needs a bit more time to adjust in the combat suit. For now, let me work on it alone.” You had suggested, seeing the skepticism of the other technicians who did not want anything to do with the suit who is very much still alive.

You had no doubt that no one wanted to work on the weapon, especially since it was still very sentient. Now in possession of solidified upgrades to strengthen its use in combat. If it was still able to formulate thoughts despite having been completely mangled as a weapon. Kaiju no. 10, now had the means to breach the combat suit's limitations. In the case it did lose control. And when you were working with an unidentified threat, there's a high chance it wouldn't hesitate to attack.

Meaning, if the higher ups wanted this weapon usable for Soshiro. Then you were the only one who'd be willing to work through the weapon’s new kinks and pieces. To stop it from getting wild and uncontrollable.

It had obediently let you work on it the first time. You were positive that it wouldn't be a problem now. Right?

“...Are you sure about this? I don't mind if it doesn't become usable ya’ know? It ain't worth risking your life like this.” He had briefly brushed a thumb to your cheek. Forgetting that there had been an audience of officers just behind them.

Though it seems Soshiro did not care much about that. More worried for your safety, in all of this.

“Calm down swordsman. I'm not interested in killing the woman who's bound to make me stronger. It'll keep things..Interesting.”

Soshiro had looked over to the tube that held the weaponized Kaiju in place. It didn't even register in your eyes when he had unsheathed one of his blades. Pointing the tip directly at the cross section on the combat suit's chest. Where the eye had been placed. “Keep talking and I'll slice you to ribbons ya’ little-”

But before he could threaten number 10, you had crossed your way over to lower his weapon. A gentle hand on his bandaged chest that had been healing for a few days now. “I will be just fine.”

“You heard him, he won't hurt me.”

“And ya’ sure about that?” He had a strained smile on his lips. Bordering frustration as he had not once moved his gaze from the suit.

“If he planned to, he would've attacked me way before I could dice him up to make armor out of him.” You had given him a small smile. Despite your own skepticism.

“I'll be fine..” You reassured him again. And silence took momentary peace in the room full of weary people. The others had not been convinced in the slightest.

Soshiro had a minute to take in your words. His hardened gaze softened momentarily as it met your pretty face. And as usual, you did not falter when you spoke confident sentences. Strong-willed and unafraid as you were. As self-confident as ever it seems, befitting for someone who worked closely on the defense force despite not being a soldier. You were troublesome indeed. But he had no doubt you'd be able to make something out of the living Kaiju he and Captain Ashiro worked so hard to kill.

He couldn't help but let out a sigh. Placing his blade back on his hip. “Fine. But, I'm staying here with you, so…”

“Get him ready, and I'll be the one to break him in for ya.”

–

It had been a few days since that incident occurred. After a few talks with command, you had been granted access to a private facility where the necessary tools and materials were given to you to fix Number 10's control over the weaponized suit. Having been quickly transferred to a private facility that no one but a select few had access to.

Surprisingly, Soshiro had done well on his promise. Leaving the Tachikawa base to stay with you on a daily basis in the case that Kaiju no. 10 would attack. Likely having already explained the situation to Captain Ashiro long before you had worked on adjusting the suit’s flaws.

Soshiro was usually a patient man. But being a Vice Captain of an entire division, you did not want to waste a second of his packed schedule when he was already so busy with his other responsibilities. So you wasted no time as you continued to limit the weapon's control over its armored body. Thoroughly eradicating its ability to disobey order from its wearer, but to no avail.

So far, all you had been able to do was to limit the monster's movements, down to a singular point which was its tail. The limb seems to have a mind of its own, and it did not bother to listen to any of you nor Soshiro's commands. Demanding that they let him battle a Kaiju to test out his new uses. And the moment Soshiro had declined. You weren't spared from Kaiju no. 10's complaining either. Constantly yapping in excitement for a battle that had yet to start.

Although it wasn't nearly as controlled as you liked, command had apparently dubbed the weaponized combat suit as usable enough for Soshiro to handle. And despite the dangers of its early prototypes, they were both given the permission to do a test run within the indoor training grounds provided near the labs.

Which is what leads you today, alone once more in an enforced room no less. Watching Soshiro step into the small pod, where wires had connected the Weaponized combat suit onto his body.

And from the control panel right next to it. You are able to grasp a few readings of his vitals. All seemed stable thus far.

“Are you sure about this? Wouldn't it be safer to have soldiers on standby for the simulation?” You had stood up from your chair. Brows scrunched the moment the combat suit had zipped closed around his body.

Your eyes had glanced over at the way his suit had all but molded to his form. The armor plating had fit distinctly to his chest. And his arms and legs had no trouble adjusting to the heavy heat of Kaiju no. 10's muscle fibers. The ones you had distinctly measured to fit his body. A combat suit made only for him in mind.

And he looked damn good in it. You thought.

“I’ll be fine sweetheart. I'm confident ya’ made it safe enough for me to wear it.” He had spoken through the standard respiratory mask he wore. And you could hear each audible breath he took in. Calm and steady unlike the buzz in your head that kept glancing down your lover's abdomen.

You had half a mind to look away. To not focus on the ridges of his plated hands. The hardened steel that covered his abs. And that damn tail on his back, that traced the ridges of his neck and spine.

Fuck.

Here he was, trusting his safety to the very core of your days worth of handiwork. And all you were thinking about is how you wished his hands were unbuttoning your blouse. And worse.

“Sure.” You stutter.

“Let's just hope it syncs up with your brain waves..” You had distracted yourself. Forcing your eyes to face the screen instead of his body. And you could see the way Soshiro had visibly slackened when he had noticed the way you had turned away from him. And this abruptness had made him frown a little. Thinking that the suit might've scared you to bits. A far cry to the actual thoughts swimming in your mind.

“Your woman here is quite talented in strengthening me. I see why you can't ignore her.” Kaiju no. 10 spoke to him. A chuckle sounding out from the small intercom he wore. Luckily you were too distracted to hear its comment.

“You show hesitation. If I had been the one in control, I'd show no restraint to your woman and take her as mine..” Soshiro had heard it's voice in his head. And flashes of their synced brain had shown him a brief future where you had pinned her under his arms. His clawed hands gripping at the plush of your thighs, and he'd carefully start to taste the droplets of slick that would caress the skin nearest your-

He shook his head.

“Quit yappin’ or I'll have you decommissioned before you can ever become useful to me.” He had stepped forward. The wires disconnecting from the skeletal structure of his armored back. And Soshiro could feel the weight of the weaponized combat suit completely engulf his body. That tail of his, which previously belonged to Kaiju no. 10. Was swinging around haphazardly, out of his control. Like it had been excited from being worn. After days of laying dormant in the table to be operated on.

But if Soshiro had to guess. It was likely this excitement had stemmed from the thoughts the Kaiju had dug up from the very back of his brain. Thoughts that he had kept for himself in the darkness of his room where no one would disturb him.

And a monster having access to that?

Shit.

He might not hear the end of it.

If only he hadn't put that image inside his head. Who would've thought that syncing his brain waves with a sentient combat suit would have him thinking sinful thoughts. In broad daylight too, where the suit could monitor every muscle and bone in his body. Each reaction recorded and documented for a report.

He had heard stories that this was a common side effect that the Weapon Numbers had. The non-sentient ones had at least some form of memory of their previous users. The difference was, number 10 was more talkative. Straightforward even. It had just been his luck that the monster somehow managed to resurface a few of his thoughts that he buried deep within the very corners of his brain.

And here he was, in a situation that made his body unbelievably breathless and hot. Alone and in front of you.

“Vital signs are okay..but your thermal readings are higher than normal.” You had spoken. Shaking away the tingling sensation you felt from seeing him in the Combat suit. More worried about his well being this time.

But Soshiro couldn't seem to look you in the eye. A strained smile seems to have overcome his features as he felt the heat travel from the pit of his stomach, all the way down to the valley between his legs.

Shit.

Now was not the right time for him to harden.

“Is everything alright?” You had walked up much closer to him. And you can see the telltale signs of breathlessness in him. Odd considering he had never been caught breathless like this. And the moment you had come closer in proximity, he took a singular step back.

Which didn't go unnoticed by you.

In actuality, he was lucky that your eyes had been focused on his face. His pants were loose, no different from the standard uniform all officers would wear. But if you looked hard enough, you might be able to see the signs of his printed heat. Carved on the fabric nearest his thighs.

“Just peachy.” He answers with a chuckle.

“He's just..a little noisy that's all.” He had cleared his throat. Feeling the familiar sensation of his erection start to throb. And another wave of uncontrollable thoughts had washed over his mind. Likely a result from No. 10 sharing its desires to him. No, rather than sharing its thoughts, it most likely resurfaced his feelings that he kept hidden from his lover.

It hadn't been that long since you had officially gotten together. Save one date or two during the rare occasion that they'd both be off-duty. But never had they been intimate in that way before. Hell, he didn't even know if you were a virgin or not.

He flinches. Suddenly feeling the shockwave of heat skim across his armored body, making him falter from his movements to back away. And he falls forward. A hand on your shoulder to steady himself before he could completely stumble.

“Soshiro!” He had heard you speak. The palm of your hand against his chest. But his mind was dazed. His name on your lips had made his pants feel awfully tight. And his ears had warmed slightly, removing the respiratory mask on his face so that he could breathe more evenly. “M’ fine..”

His tone had not been convincing. And you could feel the quick breaths he'd take to make up for the lack of oxygen that took up all the heat in his body.

Damn you, Kaiju no. 10. Soshiro could practically hear it chuckling.

“Stop lying..” You had spoken exasperatedly. “Is he talking to you right now?” You heard him give you a hum.

And such a curt reply makes you wonder. Finding it odd that Soshiro, who was normally talkative and easy-going, had all but quieted down. Your question remained unanswered as he was too busy hearing the words of the Weaponized suit in his head. Urging him forward which had left you clueless to the thoughts in his head. “Your hesitation is cowardly. Move. Or I will, swordsman.”

And he purses his lips at the thought. His head leaning against your shoulder. Hand abruptly moving to palm the small of your back to pull you much closer than before. And he gritted his teeth at Number 10's coercion. “Don't touch her.”

His growl had made you flinch. And you can see the way his fangs had showed up from the way his teeth had bared. The low baritone of his voice had been unlike him. Heavy and out of breath. But somehow the sound shot straight down your core. And it makes you gulp.

The reply had clearly not been for you. And such actions would provoke him enough to pull you closer. That and you had found it strange for him to be acting in such a way. You had assumed as much that Number 10 would be talking to him. Though exactly what they had conversed about you hadn't had a clue. Only going off in the little hints of emotions you’d find surrounding his body and face. But that had been impossible too.

Not when he had his nose buried on the crook of your neck where the scent of your subtle cologne had wafted thoroughly. Leaving a mark that made him want to do as Number 10 had desired. Or better yet, provoked him to do it.

“Soshiro..” you called softly. Running your hands through his dark hair starts to worry for both his physical and mental state. It was common knowledge that Weaponized Kaiju would put a strain on its user. And you did not want to risk his life for an early prototype that had yet to be perfected by you.

To your better judgment, you had led him to lean against the control panel. Gently letting his back hit the surface of the table. And you had slowly unwrapped yourself from him. Reaching to the keyboard which will let you issue a command to get him ejected from the Weaponized Kaiju.

But before you could reach to press a few buttons, he pulled you back. Strong hands wrapping at the softness of your waist. Gingerly pulling you back, closer to him in proximity to prevent your escape. Your spine was pressed up against his chest where you could feel the sturdiness of his suit against your shoulder. And your frown at your lover's unusual stubbornness. Not one to often find him resisting any actions you'd issue when it came to testing weaponized materials. “Soshiro, just hold still I need to-”

You flinched. Stopping your sentence midway.

The sudden feeling of his teeth sinking into the nape of your neck had overridden whatever words that wanted to leave your mouth. All but too focused on the feeling of his teeth taking a bite from the skin of your very neck.

Surprisingly, his bite had not been enough to draw blood. It was softer than you anticipated. One that oddly made you yelp in a pleased manner. And just as quickly as he marked the area, he moved to lick away at the reddened state your skin had been left in. Which you had not expected, placing a hefty hand over your lips to strangle any noises your throat attempted to make from his intimate actions.

“Soshiro, wait.” You had flinched again.

Feeling his lips trail kisses southward. Down from the nape, all the way over to the pulse point on your neck. He had hummed, giving your skin a few kitten licks. Before he immediately sank his teeth into your skin once more.

Leaving red marks that left you jolting against him. Your head leaning back to press closer against his shoulder. Likely to let his teeth sink deeper, if he wanted to. But Soshiro, even in this dazed state, remained disciplined. Rigid as he didn't let the bite intensify in fear of injuring you. His only intent was to leave ravishing red marks that proved to him that you were his. A warning to the Kaiju that threatened his place beside you.

“Mm..sorry dear. You're jus’ way too fuckin sweet.” He mumbled against your skin. His tail, which had previously been quiet, had now wrapped itself loosely against your leg. As if trying to pull you closer to Soshiro's body. The same sentiment seemed to have been shared between Kaiju No. 10 and Soshiro. And you wonder if this had been the result of their minds syncing up. The conversation they would have in their head remained a mystery to you as they worked in tandem to challenge each other further. And you had hesitantly tried to pull away despite not wanting to stop.

“We're still at work..” You had whispered out. Breathing heavily as he licked and sucked on your neck. Leaving purple marks on the wake of his careful lips. Even in this state he had been meticulous. Leaving careful bites that only ever felt ticklish and pleasant. And he pulled you closer, halting you from escaping.

He had not been rough at all in the way he had so easily painted your skin with his masterpieces. And although his grip was firm. All you needed was to push him away. To stop him from going further. But you hadn't moved a single inch away. Let alone stop him.

“I know..I just..” He breathes heavily against your jaw and ear. Taking your free hand to drag it behind you. Guiding your touch to trace the ridges of his abdomen. Reaching all the way down to the softness of his pants. And you feel the cold zipper of his clothes graze against your fingertips.

But more importantly. Something warmer had touched her fingertips. And you could feel the shape of his length under the confines of fabric. Painfully hard and tight from his size. And you feel your breath hitch the moment you had realized why exactly he had been heating up so abnormally since he wore the suit. The strangled sound of his groan had been muffled by his lips pressing thinly together. Biting back the soft sighs as he guides your warm palm to press harder against his crotch.

“Jus’ tell me to stop.” He whispered.

“Tell me you don't want this..” He breathlessly groaned. Suddenly finding relief that your hand had cupped the very place he had been craving friction from. The texture of his pants made him shiver as you had delicately traced the imprint of his hard-on. As if all but admiring the large warmth in your hand. And you realized that your body showed no signs of stopping. Giving into the inhibitions that that struggle through the restraints of your logic.

And although you couldn't face him right now, you spoke softly. Immediately in your reply. “I want this..”

Soshiro had taken a moment to glance at you. And he sees the redness of your cheeks bloom against your skin. Chest heaving just as much as he was when he had started thinking about the pleasure in his body. Number 10 had seemed to read both you and him so easily that he didn't need to hold you both in place just so something would happen. The work is already being done in place as you suddenly press yourself further into his erection.

Without warning, you start grinding your hands against him. Moving it up and down, feeling the way the fabric rolled against your palm and the traces or dampness. Ones that alluded to sticky mess he made underneath the fabric.

A hiss came from his mouth and Soshiro couldn't help but pull you closer by the hips. His enhanced hands, one that had been strengthened by the weaponized suit, would likely leave bruises on the handle of your hips. If he had been too caught up or careless in his actions.

So he faltered, moving his hand away from your body. Instead, deciding to prop itself up on the surface of the control panel they leaned on. The other hand, which had still made contact with your hips. Had caressed you hungrily upon your own touches. Holding back his urges to grab you too tightly lest he breaks your body from his strength alone. An idea likely from Kaiju no. 10 who had oddly quieted down from his actions. Whether it too can feel the effects you have on him was a mystery to him. One of which he had greedily just decided to ignore for the time being.

He'll save the lectures for later.

“Fuck-” He had sighed out. Feeling your fingers start palming him harder. Rubbing his crotch vigorously. Enough to cause him to squirm in place. His eyes had momentarily opened. Squinting around for any cameras or recording devices hidden in the training room. Luckily, there was conveniently none. Likely a result of keeping Weapons 10 a secret in the case they get infiltrated by a Kaiju.

Not that it was a problem for him. He'd wipe any footage he finds later. And everyone would be none the wiser to their endeavors.

His focus had solely fixated on the way your fingertips felt upon his crotch. His hips have grown desperate. Moving to grind against your hand to get more friction out of you. But to no avail, the fabric was in the way. And right now, his only thought was that this moment, although as pleasing to him as it did to you, had been the worst time for the both of you to start in.

He had it all planned out too.

He'd take you out on a date on his off-duty. Make you wear a pretty sundress that he could easily peel off. And focus on your pleasure for the rest of the night should he be allowed to do so.

But this had been too different from his plans. Far too risky and sudden for his liking. His pleasure had been amped, and he had felt the careful touches you'd do in order to please him. Touch and palm his dick until it was beyond the point of arousal. Make him spill an early load in the confines of a training room no less.

But he'll be damned if he doesn't please you too.

“Ngh..You too sweetheart..” He groaned. “Let me make you feel good too.” He whispered, trying to regain a sense of control when his crotch had surely been sticky and wet from all the precum that damped his own boxers.

The hand that had hesitated in gripping your hip had slid forward to your stomach. His fingers tracing down the crumpled blouse that had tucked into the standardized pencil skirt that you had worn. And time and time again, it had not failed to grab his attention in each waking moment you decided to wear the damn thing.

The way it had hugged your figure, where he'd sneak a glance at the curves of your stomach and hips. His thoughts couldn't help but darken, admiring the way you had always managed to capture his attention. Unwarranted and without warning.

He didn't hesitate to pull your skirt up. Trailing the fabric directly above your navel until it revealed the pretty underwear you wore. And his textured fingertips traced his name on the waistband of the fabric. Playing with the mere shudders you'd make upon his touches. Your hands, which had busied themselves by touching Soshiro’s crotch, had stilled for a moment. Giving him a stellar opportunity to make up for lost time. It was his turn now.

“Keep yer legs open for me sweetheart..” He had whispered out. Immediately running his hand through the valley of your clothed core. Feeling the dampness of the underwear, stain his coarse fingertips with your slick. Your inner thighs which had quivered against his light touches had glistened as a few droplets slipped past his fingers which made the skin of your thighs all the more tantalizing to watch.

He'd like to admire it more if he were being honest. He could tell number 10 had been all the same as his tail trailed up further onto your thighs. Gripping the skin to keep you in place. But right now, it wasn't the ideal setting for such a thing. Had this been a perfect world, he'd have taken you somewhere more comfortable. More private to please you. But right now, the suit isn't responding to any of his commands. And the best way to shut him and his damn urges up was to do this as quickly as possible. He'll have to make up for this at a later date. For now, all they needed was each other's touches.

“Soshiro..wait, I've never-” You threw your head back. Pausing when the hand that had moved to palm your cunt had suddenly invaded your space. His fingers had slipped past your waistband to quickly pinch at the sensitive bundle of nerves above your entrance. Your clit throbbing to meet his touches as you clenched against nothing in particular. Leaving Soshiro's own pulsating erection shuddering from your lack of touches. Far too distracted to continue your previous movements. Pinching your tender clit had made Soshiro groan in response. Feeling just how wet you had gotten for him despite only touching you just now.

“This your first time?” He whispered. Kissing you squarely on the shoulders. Trying his best to calm your nerves at the new feeling he was giving you. His hand was far too occupied at touching the quivering spot between your legs. And he starts rubbing circles with his fingers. Pressing down on the nub of your clit which made you moan and buck your hips in response.

“Shh..S’okay. Let me take care of ya.” He breathed next to your ear. “I won't enter ya..just focus on the pleasure.” He sighed out. His fingers were already making quick work of your entrance which had not wasted any more time than he should have. Weary that anyone could walk in and see them doing other things that didn't involve number 10's prototype testing.

Immediately, he didn't hesitate to run his hands through your fleshy lips. Mixing the liquids of your slick to help satisfy the itch your heat had felt. And the noises you made when you spoke his name had all but proved to encourage his touches further. Stretching your cunt wide open to make way for his fingers.

And you had all but yelped the moment his movements had made quick and distinct touches to your cunt. Your entrance trying its damndest to swallow his fingers whole that had so easily helped build up the euphoric high your core desperately chased after. But to no avail, his fingers teased. Slipping past the entrance just to help you fit his fingers in much easier. Testing out whether you can take the stretch of his fingers or not.

Despite the strain on his pants, his hand had expertly rubbed and felt your fleshy entrance. Squeezing the slick out of you as it had completely dampened his fingers and the underwear that had threatened to slip past your thighs.

The shaky moans you'd let out was followed up by a finger slowly prodding at your cunt's entrance and without warning his coarse gloved hands had invaded you without struggle. His finger easily made it past the slippery exterior he worked so hard to prep. All for this moment. “Nghh..Soshi..ro..feels good.”

“I know sweetheart. You're close right?” His own shaky breaths had replied back. His fingers suddenly pistoning in and out of your sopping wet core. Invading and reaching spots no one, not even you had reached before. And your head throws back against him. Hand immediately palming his clothed dick to encourage him further. The unfamiliar feeling of a string coiling around the pit of your stomach had formed. And it threatened to spill out from your cunt like a glass cup that had been too full.

“Mmm..let me touch you too.” You had managed to let out between sighs. Your legs are shivering at this point. And you feel your underwear slip down to pool against your ankles. No longer struggling to keep itself up against your inner thighs. Revealing the lewd scene of his fingers penetrating your cunt. You hadn't even realized he added a finger until he started moving it in a scissoring motion. And you had half a mind to give up on your endeavors to match his euphoria.

But you have always been quite a stubborn person. Even when you had carefully tiptoed around each other. You had been bold in your endeavors. And you were bolder now, more than ever.

“Shit- hold on a second..mmm..” Soshiro had felt the way your hand had reached to unzip his pants. And your palm had gradually encased his dick with the warmth of your fingers. Massaging his erection directly to feel the ridges and veins it naturally had. The tip of it was a raging red that dripped pearlescent drops of his precum. Bubbling at the slit to land on the floor below them.

And Soshiro couldn't help but groan. Imagining that it had been your cunt that had engulfed his dick in languid motions.

Number 10 didn't need to coerce him this time. Getting lost on the feeling as he bucked his hips to meet the sensations you dished out. But despite this, he did not falter in his actions at all. Completely enamored that he could touch you and feel you all at the same time. Driving his mind into a short circuit the minute his fingers managed to reach deeper into your cunt. Finding the hardened button of your g-spot that only makes your vision blurry.

“uh…ahh..I'm close. Soshiro..I'm close..” You had closed your eyes, your movements beginning to turn sloppy as you tried to keep up with his pace. And your shaky moaning had increased in volume since then.

Soshiro could feel the telltale signs of your release. Feeling your cunt squeeze onto his fingers which had been knuckle deep into you at this point. And he too lets out a shaky moan when he feels his semen drip down more steadily from his dick. Leaving the liquid dripping between your fingers and soft palms. “Me too..”

“Just..keep your voice down dear.” He spoke slowly. Burying his face unto the crook of your neck before bucking his hips wildly into your hand. Letting him control the pace in which you had massaged his dick. And he began seeing stars. Your moans had been crystal clear while his fingers stretched you open. Grinding up against your cunt whilst his thumb pressed deeply against your clit to further push you on the edge.

And without warning, you had arched your back to scream.

Soshiro hadn't realized this as you both came. The release for both of you had been so intense that he had forgotten all about Kaiju no. 10 who was still silent but active within his suit. Silently snarling and listening in on the intensity your pleasure had dictated the scene. Number 10 had not been perfected as a weapon, So it still had somewhat of a mind of its own. Able to control just a part of its tail upon being worked on for days on end.

And surprisingly, he made himself rather useful when its weaponized tail wrapped around the jaw of her mouth. Muffling your pleasured screams before you'd be found out by any passing officers outside of the training room.

Your body convulsed at the feeling.

The euphoria traveling in shockwaves as your ivory essence had pooled between your thighs and his hand. Coating it with the liquid that you had not thought you'd be able to reach without Soshiro's expertise. Luckily, his dick was much the same.

Shooting out thick semen that had stained the skin of your calf to create a messy picturesque sequence that he's sure would be number 10’s leverage for the next time they try to test him as a prototype. And that had been all Soshiro needed to know for a sigh to escape his lips. His weird suit sure had its ups and downs he supposes. But if this were to happen again, he'd rather keep you as far away from him when he's wearing this suit for the next time around.

“Sorry..” You had heard Soshiro breathe out. And you watch him in the corner of your eyes. As hair clung against the sweaty sheen of your cheek. The tail that had muffled your mouth slowly retracted upon Soshiro's command. And you could've sworn you heard a faint laughter from within the Number 10. As if he too had been satisfied by such an event.

“What for?” You had smiled. Glancing at the way your lover had breathed heavily. Taking in the steady breathes he needed after the passionate event you had both experienced. And his face had gingerly lifted up from your shoulder. A baffled look crossing his features.

“I didn't mean to attack you like that..I-” He paused. Feeling the way the Combat suit had finally cooled down. Signaling that it had been shut down. Likely because it had not been fitted for a better power source yet. So it turned off on its own before Number 10 could even make another snide comment, one of which Soshiro was sure he'd be doing just about now. Had he the actual power capacity to do so.

And he grits his teeth upon the suit slowly opening up to reveal the compression shirt he wore underneath it. Finally his control had been mostly back. With Number 10 no longer plaguing his thought process.

“Damn this Kaiju..” He whispered. Removing his fingers from your core. And you flinch upon the loss of his warmth.

“It's fine.” You shook your head.

“Was it the Kaiju giving you ideas? or was it all you?” You had asked. Suddenly it was strange that the researcher in you would surface after just touching each other so lewdly earlier. But you couldn't help but wonder. He had acted strangely upon putting on Number 10. You'd only assume they had a spoken agreement earlier when Soshiro had looked protective almost, in the way he had held you.

“Most of it..yeah..” Soshiro had admitted. Awkwardly looking away knowing that he might've crossed boundaries with you. He'd be remiss if you didn't get a little bit angry at the sudden attack. And he wouldn't blame you if you had not wanted to be anywhere near him ever again.

But you surprised him once more when you moved to kiss him on the lips. Unchanged in the way you felt when you had consented to his advances. It was partly your logic that encouraged him. It was partly your fault too for not stopping him when he asked. Now you both were held responsible in submitting a fake report that would inevitably be submitted to command. And such a kiss that spoke those very sentiments leaves him breathless, trying to catch oxygen before it could leave him panting for another.

“Good. I'd be pissed off if you told me you didn't want me at all.”

“Did’ya really think I didn't want you?” He sighed. “I just..wanted you to feel special. Unlike how I treated you before..”

And you couldn't help but smile. Knowing how hard Soshiro had likely been working a lot harder to make time for you despite the nature of their work. And that fact alone, has been enough for your cheeks to flame. His efforts have been enough for you for some time now. Unbeknownst to his better judgement.

“It's fine..just make it up to me another time.” You had spoken softly. Wrapping your arms around his neck. And he in turn hugged you just as tightly back.

“I will. I promise you I will, sweetheart.” He spoke. Leaning back in to capture your lips despite the slight fatigue the suit has done to his body. The heaviness didn't matter much to him anymore. And damn the suit if he had to beat into submission on a later date. Number 10 may have had a grip on him this time, but next time around he won't be the one dictating his desires.

He'd do it himself. Properly and in a much better setting, where he wouldn't be panting like a puppy in heat.

His breathlessness had been a rare sight indeed. But Oxygen was all he needed to kiss you breathless too.

[totheblood]

true blue. (four)

pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader

summary: ellie has a crisis

warnings: suggestive themes, drug/alcohol usage, cursing, descriptions of abusive behavior (neither ellie or reader engages in these behaviors)

a/n: MORE ELLIE JOURNALING.. this is the final part! i won't be writing any more true blue i apologize i didn't realize how emotionally taxxing this would be for me. also the ai audios are at the bottom! hope u like them THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD - I apologize. I would greatly appreciate any reblogs, comments, asks you have about this chapter. thank you for supporting me through this journey!

read the first three chapters here from the masterlist!

Ellie was on the verge of breaking down.

This pain was becoming all too familiar to her and the weight of it only grew each second she spent with you. Her fingertips had grown numb as she sat across from you in the restaurant as she wrapped them around the base of her glass. If she thought the heartbreak of Cat would take her out, she knew that the heartbreak of you would move her existence to a different plane of existence.

If she was really honest with herself, she didn’t really love Cat, but rather how Cat had made her feel. It was all-consuming, over the top, mushy love. The love you see in movies but never expect to happen to you, but it was all just words when it came down to it. The fact of the matter is, if you tell someone they’re your soulmate ten times a day they will start to believe it. 

It wasn’t oxytocin that Ellie felt around Cat, it was pure adrenaline. She was always looking to reach that high with her again as she pulled away from her, but as the rush died out and Cat continuously degraded Ellie, she found herself accepting less than she deserved or wanted. She wanted Cat to want her again, but Cat never wanted her. Cat never wanted anybody.

But it wasn’t like that with you. For starters, you didn’t tell Ellie you were in love with her on your second date. You didn’t try to convince her that she was made for you. You were just there with your sickly sweet smile and long eyelashes that made Ellie’s heart pound in her chest. You were good.

Or so she thought. 

She couldn’t quite explain why, but Ellie believed Cat. Cat was a manipulator and a bitch, but she wasn’t a liar. Plus, the way her face filled with joy at the chance to tell Ellie that her current fix hated her was too real. The sinister laugh was fucking genuine.

So here Ellie sat across from you at the dinner she had planned to ask you to be her girlfriend at, a sick rage burning in her chest. She didn’t know why she didn’t cancel but she didn’t know why she was doing a lot of things these days.

“Tell me about your day.” You spoke, breaking Ellie out of her trance.

“My day?” She questioned, eyes flicking up to you.

“Yeah, silly. Anything interesting happen?” You asked, the smile on your face stirring something evil in Ellie’s gut. You looked so fucking good today it’s almost if you knew she was planning on asking you out. 

“No.. not really. Ran into my ex actually.” She said simply, playing with the fork in her hand. She studied your face closely and watched as it slightly faltered at the mention of her ex. If she didn’t know you, she might’ve not caught it. 

“Oh, really?” You questioned, sipping your water and toying with the chain around your neck. It was a tell tale sign you were nervous. “You don’t really talk about your ex.” 

“Yeah, she was the worst so I don’t like thinking, or talking, about her all that much.” Ellie knew her tone was coming off harsh, but she didn’t care. The way your demeanor changed told her all she needed to know about you.

“Yeah… that makes sense.” You were obviously uncomfortable with how the air shifted but you were trying to keep the peace. “My day was good, I went to that thing in the Student Center. The therapy dog thing. It was so cute I almost died. Do you want to see a picture of me and the dogs?” 

“Not really.” Ellie replied, leaning back in her chair. The way your face fell would have made her put together heart break.

“D-did I do something?” Your voice was shaking a bit but your gaze remained steady. Ellie needed to leave.

“No, baby, I’m not really having the best day so I’m just going to leave.” Before you could even protest Ellie threw down three twenties, grabbed her jacket, and left. You didn’t chase after her, nor did you call that night, and Ellie knew it was sick of her, but that really bothered her. 

D: idk i don’t think pookiana would do that

E: Pookiana?? Seriously? This isn’t funny, Dina.

D: i know it’s not funny but are you really trusting cat

E: You should have seen her face when I said I ran into Cat. Plus Cat was too happy to tell me. It’s true, D.

D: well u should still talk to her about it, just abandoning her at a date is not cool

D: it’s cat behavior

E: Don’t do that.

E: I need to do something. I need to be out.

D: there’s a house party tomorrow? you could join

E: Will there be girls?

D: ellie what r u doing 

D: don’t do this don’t self destruct

E: Yes or no?

D: there are always girls 

E: I’ll be there.

The following night Ellie found herself taking several hits off her pen for courage. Deep inside she knew she wanted to be with you tonight, wrapped up in your comically large blankets watching a dumb movie or Planet Earth, but she couldn’t do that to herself. 

Plus, you hadn’t contacted her since the date and it was driving Ellie crazy. At this point she had assumed that you knew she caught onto you and had decided a fight wasn’t worth your time. So she decided not to care, an ability that seemed all too new to her.

The party was as fun as you could imagine, skins slick with sweat and the air dry and humid. Ellie was feeling adventurous and, for once in her sorry life, she didn’t stick to the side of the wall for the entirety of the night. She was socializing, laughing, and even dancing. On the outside she appeared happy and carefree.

On the inside, however, Ellie was beginning to panic. She knew escaping the reality of her life would only be a brief relief from the things that plagued her everyday mind, but she didn’t expect the high to die off so quickly. Her mind was telling her, run run run, but her feet stayed planted and her body continued to sway. 

In the dark of the party and the high still hanging over her head, she almost didn’t realize the girl dancing in front of her. She began to grind on Ellie, shaking her hips to the music and causing Ellie’s brain to short circuit. 

It felt wrong, mostly because it wasn’t you. Fuck fuck fuck, her brain rang again as it did many times before, but this time Ellie wasn’t stopping. Not only did she not stop the girl, but her own hands found her waist, holding on as Ellie pulled her in and swayed with the music. Ellie hated to admit it but she was turned on. Her touch-starved and emotionally rotting brain needed skin to skin contact to bring her back down to Earth, she needed to be held by someone. 

Unlike last time, however, she refused to find solace in crying on Dina’s lap again. No, this time she was going to find it in the lips of another. So as she danced she began to press sloppy wet kisses on the girl’s neck, making sure to take her skin in between her teeth. She was trying to elicit a response, any response that would tell her how good she was doing. And when she got that, a moan from the girl in front of her that rumbled across Ellie’s chest, she held her back to her chest and connected her lips to hers. 

It felt good, it felt foreign, and for a brief moment in time Ellie’s mind was completely silent. She wasn’t thinking about the name of the girl she was kissing. She wasn’t thinking about Cat. She wasn’t thinking of you. The only thought that consumed her at this moment was how her tongue was in a random person’s mouth and how amazing it felt. Until, she was being ripped off of the girl and met with your tear-stained face.

“What the fuck are you doing, Ellie?” You cried out, the person Ellie was just intertwined with now slinking off into a corner. The party went on, but others stopped to watch the scene you were beginning to make.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She spat, anger written all over her face. Her heart was aching in her chest at the sight of you. She wanted to reach out to you, kiss the tears off your face and tell you everything was okay, but she didn’t have it in her to do that.

“It looks like you’re cheating on me.” You fumed, eliciting a gasp from the party goers. Dina pushed past a group of people to find the two of you staring down each other. She frantically ran up in between you and Ellie, grabbing both of your arms before pulling you up the stairs and outside. 

The air outside was cold. Under the streetlights you could see the tip of Ellie’s nose turn red, but what you now noticed was the red rim around her eyes. She had been crying but it was masked by the seemingly unprovoked rage she had for you. 

“I’m not cheating on you because I’m not with you… you are not my girlfriend.” She pointed out, her anger looking more like sadness. 

“I’m not your girlfriend… but I mean something to you, right?” You pleaded, letting your tears fall freely. 

“You meant something to me. Not anymore. I’m not doing this with you. I won’t be able to survive it if it’s you.” Ellie was almost sure she wasn’t making much sense, but her head was pounding and Dina was standing on the porch staring at the two of you with her arms crossed. All Ellie wanted to do was run, but if she ran she had a feeling she would be running from you her whole life.

“What did I do? Just tell me that. I thought we were happy.” You were sobbing, but everytime you took a step towards Ellie, she took a step back.

“Did you know about me before we met?” Ellie asked with a straight face.

“Wha-” You began.

“Did you know who I was before we met? It’s a simple question.” 

“Yes… but-” You were trying to explain yourself but Ellie wasn’t having it. For some reason you confirming her suspicions hurt more than she assumed it would and she was already turning around walking back towards the house. 

“Ellie, stop! Let me explain.” You pleaded, chasing after her hot on her tracks. She whipped around to turn back to you, her speed almost knocking you off your feet.

“No, you don’t get to explain. I trusted you. I liked you. I fell for you for fucks sake. I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend after swearing that I would never let that happen and it was all what? A joke to you? This isn’t fucking funny, this is my life. And you… you made it good for so long and to know that it was all fake? I’m not coming back from this.” Ellie was speaking without thinking at this point.

“You think this is a joke to me? Are you fucking serious? When were you going to mention that we shared an ex? Huh? You want to be mad at me for what? Not liking you 2 years ago when I didn’t know you? When my ex told me she was leaving me for you? This hasn’t been some revenge plot Ellie, it was two years ago. I moved on. Did I think I was going to move on with you? No, but I did and I can’t change that, but you don’t get to treat me like this for not sharing that piece of information with you. You don’t get to reduce my love for you down to that. Down to Cat.” Your tears had stopped flowing but your eyes and face were still puffy. 

“I didn’t tell you about it because I had decided to put it- Wait… you love me?” Ellie stopped herself, not realizing what you had said. 

“What? I never said that.” You argued. 

“You just did. You said, “You don’t get to reduce my love for you down to that.” She said, mocking your voice. 

“I don’t fucking sound like that, and we are having a fight right now. Can we get back to it?” You reiterated, but something in Ellie’s eyes had shifted. It was almost like she was expecting you to be the evil thing she thought you were, but you weren’t. But as the realization that you were, once again, innocent dawned on her, so did her guilt. 

“I just… I assumed you were doing this… dating me… to get back at me. Honestly, it’s because that’s exactly what I would do. But you’re not me, and I’m sorry. I don’t think I have ever felt this way about a person in my whole life. It was already freaking me out and then Cat told me that you hated me and my mind went to the worst. I’m just… I’m sorry.” Her voice was steady but she was panicking. All you did was stare at her with your puffy eyes and red lips and all Ellie wanted to do was kiss you. Give you a bath and rub your back till you forgave her. All she felt like she was doing was causing you more pain, and she wanted it all to stop.

“I love you.” It came out of Ellie’s mouth so quickly. Almost as a plea, but she knew she meant it. She knew she meant it a while ago but the idea of it becoming real terrified her. She watched as your eyes lit up then quickly dimmed again. Suddenly there were tears in your eyes and her confession felt more like an assault.

“Don’t do that. Don’t say that to me if you don’t mean it. I’ve healed from my shit with Cat but it still hurts, this hurts. Being led on. This back and forth. If you are saying you love me you have to mean it and you have to stay.” It was you saying this that made Ellie realize just how unfair she had been to you. She knew you had healed from Cat, but it was becoming painfully obvious how much work Ellie had to do. For fucks sake you had to watch her dry hump another girl just to have this conversation. And you were still here. You hadn’t left or avoided her, but rather gave her time to breathe. This was healthy. This was good. And Ellie felt like she didn’t deserve any of it.

“I do mean it. I love you. I love all the beautiful and weird things about you. I love you and I will say that until my face turns blue. I love the fuck out of you. I know I don’t deserve you, I know this is hard but I’m trying to grow. I want to stay. I want to be there for you, but I think I need help learning how. I’m not like you, I’m not there yet, but I want to be. For you.” Ellie was fidgeting with her hands, it was obvious she was extremely nervous and expected you to reject her.

What she didn’t expect was for you to close the gap in between the both of you and press a gentle kiss to her lips. 

“I’m going to stay, but if you grind up and make out with another girl again I’m leaving. No questions asked. Okay?” You were smiling a smile that said ‘I’m fucking serious’ and that made Ellie fall a little more in love with you.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t want anyone else’s lips except yours.” She smiled leaning down to press another kiss to your lips, then your cheek, and then your neck.

“Are you guys done? Can we go back to the party?” Dina yelled from the porch, having watched the whole scene unfold. Ellie just ignored her as she pressed another gentle kiss to your neck, her arms wrapping around your waist pulling you as close as possible to her. All you could do was laugh and allow Ellie to slightly lift you off of the ground with how tight she was holding you. 

“Real classy, you guys. I’m going back in.” Dina called out one more time, not knowing you and Ellie would never make it back inside.

One Year Later…

Excerpts from Ellie’s Journal:

My girlfriend is a saint… well obviously cause she’s dating me but she did the whole last part of our project. I was totally lost that whole class but my genius girl got us an A.. She did fail her pottery class. She’s so fucking bad at that shit.

I took her to a cat cafe for her birthday… she cried so much hugging the cat’s that we got asked to leave… we got asked to leave because my girlfriend was squeezing the cats so bad and crying into their fur. The barista said she was causing them emotional distress… I gave them one star on Yelp.

She came and visited Jackson over winter break… Game night with her and Joel was a complete nightmare, they are both so competitive. I had to hold her back because she tried to physically fight Tommy… God, I love her so much.

She got me a guitar pick with her initials on it for Christmas. Told me now I had to play for her, she didn’t know that her gift was the song I wrote her. My sweet little baby cried. It was so precious.

She’s so fucking talented with her fingerhiuoiji

We’re roommates next semester… I’m never going to get any fucking sleep. It’s fine because I like the trade-off but my grades are about to plummet.

I drew her when we were sitting together in the park today. It’s just getting warm again and she’s wearing shorter skirts… I know I sound like a perv but she looks really hot is skirts… anyways, I drew her and she cried.. Again. She’s so sentimental that it makes my heart ache.

I’ve never imagined in my whole sorry life that I could be this happy with someone. It’s easy. Whoever said love was hard wasn’t in love with my girl because it is by far the easiest thing I have done in my whole life. I sleep better at night, I smile more, I feel content. She has put the stars in the sky for me. I don’t know what I was so afraid of. Love is good. She is good. I love her.

It’s our one year anniversary and I can't believe this freak hasn’t killed me or herself yet (accidentally). She got a job at Bean and brings me home ice tea every day. We’ve started reading books together and she strokes my hair when she knows I’m tired. She knows me better than I know myself. I’ve learned things about myself while being with her. She encourages me everyday to grow and to try new things. I feel like a new person, but I still feel like me. Like the me who loves this girl with her whole heart. 

ai audios:

ai audios links:

what does it look like i'm doing?

did you know who i was?

you meant something to me

wait you love me?

i love you

yea yea

[sweetracha]

Hihi!🩷<3

I've never sent an ask before and I'm a little nervous but you seem super nice and sweet!

I was wondering if you could do mommy!Jisung fic or HCs or literally anything you want, ive been reading your Felix and Minho ones and ohemgeeeeee I love it so so so much! Please don't feel pressured to do this you can totes ignore it if you want, thank youuuu😘🫶 mwah

Do I sign off with something, idk- byeee

Mommy! Han Headcannon

Warning: Mommy Dom Han, ANGST, Description of Panic Attacks (Based on my personal experience with them, they manifest differently for everyone), Little note of punishment, mostly fluffy with a hint of smut.

The mommy thing came as a complete surprise to both of you

It wasn't planned, it was discussed, it wasn't even noticed at first

While most things like these are born out of excitement and fun

This one instead came out during a terrible situation

The kitchen floor you sunk down on was cold and bit at your exposed thighs, sleep shorts did nothing to protect you.

Your shirt felt too tight like a snake slowly constricting around your throat

Your heartbeat screamed in your ears and lurched in your chest

Breathing was nauseating

The room was expanding and shrinking all at once

The bubble around you was shrinking

shrinking

shrinking

but it wouldn't pop

You poked it, hit it, screamed at it, did everything you could

it wouldn't fucking pop

You closed in on yourself, seeing the ledge and knowing you were going off

your nails sunk into your flesh as you held on for dear life

"Baby? FUCK! baby, why are you on the floor"

Han came home a bit later from the studio, fully expecting to find you waking up from your afternoon nap

When he turned the corner to set down his things there you were. White as a ghost and shaking.

Immediately he pried your hand from your arms and held them in his.

He kneeled down and hissed from the freezing tile.

"Baby, shhhh. I need you to listen. Can you hear me? It's just panic sweetheart, nothing is coming for you."

"Bubble, closing, fast"

"No, it isn't. Look I'm in the bubble, see. If I was able to get inside the bubble then the bubble isn't closing, it's getting bigger. I'm here, baby I'm here." A gentle hand cupped your face, slowly bringing your eyes to his.

Glassy eyes looked back

"Mommy is here?"

He didn't even question it, if this is what you needed then this is what he would give you

"Yes baby, mommy is here. come to mommy"

You had no memory of what happened that night and Han was afraid to approach the subject

It was a secret he kept, eating him alive

Every time he looked at you he wanted to blurt it out

All Han ever wanted to do was to be your safety, clearly Mommy was that comfort you needed

He picked at his hand and rubbed his legs raw while watching a movie one night

You could tell from his fidgeting something was wrong, his anxiety was building.

"Hannie, What's wrong baby?"

"NOTHING!. sorry nothing is wrong"

"Han...What is it"

"I can't tell you!"

"You can tell me anything, you know that. Jesus you just watched me have a full-blown panic attack last week! Speak to me"

"I need it"

"Need what"

"Mommy."

"Y-You want to call me mommy? Han that's not a bad thing-"

"No...I need to be yours, please" His eyes are now made of the same glass as yours.

Slowly Mommy Han came in and out of your lives

It was clear Mommy was saved for those special nights

Those nights when you needed a bit more love

Where he needed a bit more reassurance

Where you both needed a bit more comfort

Sex with Mommy was soft and sweet

Slow and loving

Praising with no underlying degradation

He would kiss every inch of your skin light as a feather, not to overstimulate you

Cumming wasn't always something that happened either

No, Mommy Han just needed to be there with you and to love you

This didn't mean Mommy Han went without disciplining you

But whereas others would spank, overstim, or deny

He simply scolded you. A bit of humiliation mixed in.

"So worried Mommy wasn't thinking about you that you had to go and send me that little picture hmm? I bet it eased your mind, putting your sexy body in mommy's mind but an act like that can't go unpunished can it? Now Mommy is going to call Chan and Changbin back to finish the meeting you so rudely interrupted. You my dear are going to sit on my cock like the good little thing I know you are and be quiet. Got it?"

While the meeting was long and punishing to you, Han made sure to stay as still as possible.

Han would tease, but Mommy would never.

Soon you wake up to Han slowly thrusting into you, a blank screen indicating the meeting had ended.

"Shhh pretty baby, go back to sleep. Mommy has you. Uh Uh, Mommy knows you'll be good for him and go right back to sleep, right baby? Shhhh just like that. Goodnight baby, Mommy loves you"

That last part didn't need to be said

You never doubted Mommy's love for you

Every time Han made sure you knew

Just how much Mommy adored you

The Sweetest Batch: @goblinracha @kaciidubs @channieandhisgoonsquad @comet-falls @ddyskz @jiminskies @j-onedrabbles @lixiesweetbrownie @marrivmel @caitlyn98s

[luna-writes-stuff]

Unforgiven II, Kaz Brekker

Song link

Fanfic, female! reader

Angst, but a with a tiny sprinkle of fluff

Word count:

Tw: typical soc stuff, explosions, blood/injuries, description of drowning/recovering from drowning., description of dizziness/losing consciousness, Kaz is fighting demons to save your life, Nina doing heartrender things, Kaz nearly crying, use of Y/N (I deserve hell)

Summary: You have been friends with Kaz for as long as either of you can remember. Even before all the “Ketterdam is my mother” talk and trauma. So when you get caught up in an explosion during a heist, Kaz loses his shit. He becomes an anxious wreck, doing his best to get you out of danger. And in order to do so, he has to make certain sacrifices for himself.

No - this is not a pt. 2 to anything. The song is called Unforgiven II. This fic is based off of a song.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“Lay beside me and tell me what they've done.

And speak the words I wanna hear to make my demons run.”

“Kaz, come on!” You ushered, running towards docks, Kaz short on your heels, though his pace slowed with every step he took. You knew his leg was bothering him, but at the moment, you needed to get out of this place.

It had been your casual “let’s steal something and get money for it” heist. Everything had gone exactly according to plan. Wylan’s bomb went off at time, Inej got the necklace without being noticed, Jesper was a great distraction, Matthias had been on look-out as Nina had joined Jesper in being decoy. You and Kaz had been making sure the rendezvous point remained safe. You had been in Dime Lion territory, so the risk of being caught was great. Yet, there had been no issues. That was until Jesper, not so subtly, managed to sneak a look towards you and Kaz, alerting others of your location.

So now you and Kaz were on the run. Trying to get away without getting injured or being discovered of stealing things. It had been five minutes now and you knew Kaz’ leg would no longer hold up.

“The door is locked now but it's open if you're true.

If you can understand the me then I can understand the you.”

You spared another look behind you, noticing you were no longer being followed closely. You halted your steps, simultaneously causing Kaz to stop too.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, obviously supporting all his weight on his cane.

“Where did they go?” You wondered aloud, referring to the gang members that had been so set on catching you earlier.

Now Kaz looked behind him too, noticing the empty streets.

“Something isn’t right.” He noted, making you nod in agreement.

“Lay beside me, under wicked sky.

Through black of day, dark of night, we share this, paralyzed.”

“We should keep moving, just to be safe.” You decided, now setting a normal walking pace, trying to give Kaz the opportunity to recover. As you walked past the crates and empty ships, something weird suddenly occurred to you.

“You hear that?” You whispered, holding a hand out towards Kaz to stop him.

“Hear what?” He questioned, now keeping his ears open.

“Sizzling.” You observed. “Like firework being lit.”

At those words, Kaz’ eyes widened. He looked around to find the source of the sound, but he could not bring himself to locate it.

“The door cracks open but there's no sun shining through.

Black heart scarring darker still but there's no sun shining through.

No there's no sun shining through, no there's no sun shining.”

“Bomb.” He managed out, before grabbing the loose fabric of your sleeve, tugging you with him as he ran.

You followed suit quickly, the danger of not knowing where the bomb was, making your adrenaline race. You released your sleeve from Kaz’ hold, running behind him to make sure you could drag him with you in case he’d slow down again.

In the distance, you could see the rest of the crows waiting, but they had yet to notice you and Kaz. No Dime Lions were spotted near them yet, which had been a relative good sign.

“What I've felt, what I've known.

Turn the pages, turn the stone.

Behind the door, should I open it for you?”

“Kaz, turn around!” You warned. The sound of the walking fire seemed nearer than before, alerting you of the fact you were running in the wrong direction.

“We’re only nearing it!” You explained without hesitation.

Kaz spared you a quick nod, before running along the coastline, no longer running away from the shores. You followed his every step. Your breath had started to appear colder than before, your shirt uncomfortably clinging to your back, but you knew you’d catch your breath later. Stopping now might only increase the chances of becoming injured.

“What I've felt, what I've known.

Sick and tired I stand alone.

Could you be there?

'Cause I'm the one who waits for you.

Or are you unforgiven too?”

Your attempt for cover came too late; before either of you could properly process it, a big explosion ignited only a few feet from you. You could have counted yourself lucky for not being too close to it, not having received any burning flesh. The force of the explosion - however - was something you couldn’t escape.

Before you could even realise what was happening, you were flying through the air, rocketing towards the shore lines in an inhumane speed. You could only briefly register Kaz’ body on the floor before the ice cold temperature ran over you.

Your body impacted on top the water, the weight with the added speed rapidly pulling you under. You weren’t on time for any of it. When you had already fallen, it still felt like you were flying, and when you were flying, you hadn’t even properly heard the explosion. It all happened with the blink of an eye.

“Come lay beside me, this won't hurt I swear.

She loves me not, she loves me still, but she'll never love again.”

When you finally realised you had been submerged in the freezing canal waters, you had to force your body to work again. Your limbs felt heavy, whilst your head felt lighter than it even been. An unknown weight settled on your waist as you were pushed further down.

Looking down at it, you were faced with a huge piece of wood, tearing a hole in your coat as it forced you down. In blind panic, you reached down, trying to get the wood from the coat. But the longer you fought it, the deeper you sank, and the more pressure build in your ears.

You weren’t going to go down like this - sinking because of a heist gone wrong. No, you were meant to go out in a tub of money, rolling in the debts of your enemies.

The looming threat of imminent death and hopeless made your efforts worsen, your brain cloudy, unable to think straight as you kept tugging on the coat.

“She lay beside me but she'll be there when I'm gone.

Black hearts scarring darker still, yes, she'll be there when I'm gone.

Yes, she’ll be there when I'm gone. Dead sure she'll be there?”

On the coast line, Kaz had recovered from the blow, seemingly fine, save for a handful of bruises and a loud ringing in his ears. The crows had neared him, Jesper and Inej immediately working to keep the Dime Lions at a distance. Nina looked over the edge, still seeing the waves of where you had fallen earlier.

“Shit,” she cursed, before clumsily fumbling with the ends of her dress. Wylan and Matthias looked at her in a mixture of confusion and embarrassment. She didn’t seem to notice.

For Kaz, it felt like time had frozen. You had been with him ever since you were children. You’ve known him before Ketterdam - before Dirthands. And now you were sinking to the bottom of the canal, left to your fate in a lonesome embrace.

He had lost everything he had, and always associated it with the freezing temperatures of the lakes. He remember the chilling air, the cold water and the hard bodies of the people who had died due to illness. He remembered how he fought back until he had returned to Ketterdam. To look for you.

And now he’d lose you to those same damned waters.

“What I've felt, what I've known.

Turn the pages, turn the stone.

Behind the door, should I open it for you?”

Nina took too long. Wylan and Matthias might not have noticed, but he did. A thousand thoughts and fears were swirling his mind, but there was one that stood out the most.

He was losing you.

The thought seemed so hopeless and bitter, but it was the truth. He could stand there and think about everything that had happened to him, or he could act on it. He could wait for Nina to finally get that cursed dress off, or he could jump in himself and hope his body wouldn’t fail him.

You still hadn’t resurfaced.

Swinging his coat from his shoulders quickly, he dropped the cane to the floor, before diving into the waters, not even giving him a second to think everything through.

“What I've felt, what I've known.

Sick and tired, I stand alone.

Could you be there?

'Cause I'm the one who waits for you.

Or are you unforgiven too?”

The water was more horrible than he had remembered. The cold was gnawing at his skin, the familiarity of it cutting him where it hurt most.

This is where you lost him, Kaz. You lost yourself.

In front of him, a body passed him, the face almost an exact replica of his older brother, save for the swollen structures of his face. The sight frightened him. Almost automatically, he reached out, but the figure faded in front of him.

This wasn’t real. He wasn’t there.

He needed to get out. He couldn’t get any air to begin with, but the capacity his lungs had held had started to fail him. There were too many reminders of what went wrong. This was a terrible idea.

“Lay beside me, tell me what I've done.

The door is closed so are your eyes.

But now I see the sun, now I see the sun.

Yes, now I see it.”

He had to go back up. He wouldn’t make it if he didn’t. But then, as if fate had somehow still been smiling upon his that day, a hand came into his vision. He couldn’t see it really well - everything was blurry. But this hand wasn’t swollen. And it seemed real.

Spending his last few seconds, he tugged on the arm, surprised by the sudden weight of it. When he looked down, he found the culprit hanging from your coat, your other hand still entangled at the hole.

Without a second of hesitation, he shrugged the coat off of you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he swam back up.

“What I've felt, what I've known.

Turn the pages, turn the stone.

Behind the door, should I open it for you?”

It was disgusting; the cold temperature, your limp body, the inability to breathe. It was too much. He couldn’t help but fight for his hold on you as he forced you up. His leg had been screaming at him to stop to begin with, but with your body in his arms, a whole new level of revolting coursed through him.

This was so wrong. He should never have had to hold anyone’s body to drag out of the sea again. This was cruel, even considering all that he had been through. There was some sick irony here that he hated. He knew Pekka would be laughing at it.

You didn’t make any effort to help him. He had no way of telling whether he had been dragging a dead body back up or not. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about anything. He just needed to get back up.

“What I've felt, what I've known.

So sick and tired, I stand alone.

Could you be there?

'Cause I'm the one who waits,

The one who waits for you.”

When he finally resurfaced, a huge gasp of air came from him, taking in all oxygen he could.

“Kaz!” Nina called, leaning over the docks with Matthias, reaching out for him and you. They could see the sheer panic and terror on his face. The boy swam towards the pair, handing you over to Matthias, who easily pulled you out. Nina immediately began to work on getting the water out of you, leaving her boyfriend to help Kaz get out, much to his reluctance.

He could still feel the cold touch, the unmistakable feeling of a hardened figure. He recognised it. And the second his feet met solid ground again, he fell down, breathing heavily, dragging his knees across the dock to reach you.

He could hear Nina mutter assuring words under her breath - both to you and to herself. The way you simply laid there, not noticing the mayhem happening because of you. Something about it made everything worse for him.

He was not going to lose you. Not like this.

“What I've felt, what I've known.

Turn the pages, turn the stone.

Behind the door, should I open it for you? (So I dub thee unforgiven)”

A loud cough cut through the tense air as your chest suddenly began to move. Nina was quick to place you on your side, leaving you to cough out the remainder of water, inhaling the air greedily, tears making their way over your face. An obnoxious sigh of relief came from the heartrender as Kaz quietly copied her move.

He stood up at the sight of you getting rid of all the water in your lungs, the sight amplifying everything he had just experienced. Shakily, he accepted the cane from Wylan, using it to support his weight as he watched Nina kneel over you, trying to calm you down.

He needed to be the one to do that, to make you comfortable, even if he wasn’t. But he couldn’t. He was having a hard time keeping everything together in the moment. If it hadn’t been for his cane, he would’ve fallen straight back to the floor.

“What I've felt.

What I've known.

I'll take this key and I'll bury it in you.

Because you're unforgiven too.”

You watched him from your seat as you regained your breath, no more water coming from your mouth. The feeling in your stomach was still heavy, but you had no more need to cough everything back up.

You knew who had dragged you from the canal. You blacked out a moment after that gloved hand touched yours, but you knew who it was. You saw the way he was staring back at you, furiously blinking back tears, hoping no one had noticed. You saw the way his hands were clutching that cane as if his life depended on it. He didn’t want to be there.

But he had jumped into the canal after you had fallen in. He had dragged you from the bottom back up. He had gotten you onto the dock whilst he had sworn he would never get into touch with water if he could help it. And he might not have been able to place a comforting hand on your shoulder as Nina did, but you knew what he had done.

You just nodded at him, still in shock. Of the fall, or due to the fact Kaz dived in after you - you couldn’t tell. But when the boy nodded back, you knew it was enough.

You knew he’d do it over again if he had to.

“Never free, never me.

'Cause you're unforgiven too.”

[ziggyzolch]

Your Prettiness is Seeping Through II (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Warnings: maybe bungled the medical stuff and process of being admitted, suicidal ideation, aftermath, descriptions of self harm kind of? its not like currently happening. Bulimia and what comes with it. Those r the main things I think.

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

-------the shame is manifest in my resistance------- ❅❅❅

“So they’re admitting you?”

You could feel the snow being crushed beneath your weight as you leaned back on your hands. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon and your best friend was sitting next to you on a random curb, taking the pack of cigarettes from your hand.

It was mid-winter. The city streets bustled with the cheer of festive Christmas decorations and the harmonies of carolers. It almost makes you feel better. You never cared for Christmas, or religion in general, but the joy in the little kids’ faces at the snow blanketing the streets, and the laughing of teenagers having snowball fights was cute.

It helped.

You sigh, turning towards your friend, “No, I don’t think so. Most that’ll happen is I’ll be in therapy, I guess.”

She rubs her hands together in an attempt to warm up, “I think I’d kill myself if I got caught. Kidding, you’ll be fine. Probably.”

You scoff, “Thanks,”

You snatched the pack from her hand, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

You had gotten over the fear of throat cancer a long time ago. It’s more of an expectation than a fear now. Smoking and purging at the same time kind of makes it an inevitability. The thought of death didn’t scare you. Not that you were cripplingly suicidal. You didn’t desperately want to die anymore, you just wouldn’t mind if you did. If you died from all of these habits, it was fine, great even. If not, whatever.

Passively suicidal.

Tomorrow, you’ll have your long awaited psych evaluation. You were shocked that it wasn’t the first thing they’d done. You weren’t that big of a risk anyways. A week has passed since your parents caught you, and you’d been made to take a number of medical tests to determine the severity of your bulimia, or something.

The first one was a general physical assessment, the most simple yet most uncomfortable. You had been made to wear a hospital gown, which you felt was overboard but whatever. They wouldn’t be able to admit you just based off of a BMI measurement, you were sure. You weren’t very underweight, most bulimics you knew weren’t. In fact, most of them were normal, sometimes overweight, but you just assumed it was because they were bad at it. You didn’t feel anything looking at your weight. Numbers mattered, sure, but with every binge and purge, your weight fluctuated like crazy, so you learned to just look for signs of weight loss via mirror.

She read your BMI out loud, you knew it wasn’t low enough to be a concern. You internally celebrated, until you noticed her eyes glancing down to your arm.

Shit.

Burning was your preferred method of self mutilation. Cutting was unsatisfying, messy, and a pain in the ass. Burns look disgusting when they heal though, which was the only downside. The scars are easily passable as cooking accidents and such. When they’re still healing, though, charred, blistered, and disgusting, they’re almost impossible to excuse. Your mom had caught you once, with your worst burn nonetheless. One offer of taking over the chores for the day and she was off your back, already taking her place on the sofa.

The burns weren’t fresh, not at all. Most of them were years old, but you panicked nonetheless. You’ve seen how batshit they get at any sign of self harm. You watched as she glanced towards your arm, then turned back to her clipboard, writing something down. Subtly moving your other arm behind your back, you cover up the bruises on your knuckles.

You also had to go to a dentist appointment. Last time you went, you had just gotten your braces off and permanent retainers in. You still have glue on the back of your teeth from when your top retainer broke, they had never gotten rid of it. With how often it fell off, you were glad the dentist had given up on putting in replacements.

You were more worried about this appointment than the physical assessment. You couldn’t keep food down, smiling with your eroded teeth was uncomfortable, and your breath was horrible. The dentist would definitely notice something, at the very least that you were a smoker. Your mother would hate that more than bulimia.

Honestly, despite all of these effects, you got the benefit of barely having a gag reflex. Which, now that you think about it, doesn’t really matter considering you don’t even like men.

Surprise was clear on your face when your dentist complimented you on the health of your teeth and sent you on your way.

You didn’t really know what the other tests were, something about heart arrhythmias and electrolytes. You didn’t care, you were so over it. It was all bullshit. You weren’t sad. You weren’t suicidal nor were you a danger to yourself or others. You were just bulimic, not on the brink of fucking brain collapse.

All of this was bullshit.

❅❅❅

Wanda’s senses come back one by one. Her ears pick up the soft whirring of machinery and occasional beeping of monitors. The soft footsteps of nurses and patients walking past, the opening and closing of a door as doctors enter, the scratching of their pens against their clipboard. The lingering scent of antiseptic reaches her nose, and the bitter taste in her mouth makes itself known. Her fingers pinch the stiff material of her gown, and she can feel the IV in her arm. Finally, she opens her eyes.

Waking up in the fiery depths of hell would’ve been better than where Wanda was right now. She mumbled curses under her breath as she looked around, taking in the hospital equipment around her.

“Natasha?” She croaked out when she caught sight of her friend sleeping on the hospital chair in the corner of the room. Natasha jumped up, wiping the drool off her chin and rushing towards Wanda. “Oh, thank god.” She sighed, pulling Wanda into an awkward hug.

She pulls back when she realizes Wanda wasn’t hugging her back. “How do you feel?” Wanda cringes at the pity on Natasha’s face. “Peachy.” She turns away, not stopping Natasha when she reaches to grab her hand.

The widow sighs, rubbing circles into Wanda’s hand, making her fingers twitch slightly. They sit in silence, not knowing what to say to each other. Wanda was glad Natasha had found her. She didn’t want to be found at all, but at least it was Natasha.

She was so stupid, so fucking stupid. Of course it wouldn’t have worked. She should’ve just shot herself in the head, like a man. She’d read somewhere that men have higher suicide rates because they carry it out in more extreme ways. Girls usually go for lighter, prettier deaths. Overdoses, slitting their wrists in a rose petal filled bathtub, and such. More survivable, and less of a burden for whoever cleans up after them. Men don't feel the same obligation. So what if it's more work for the cleaners? A shotgun to the head is easier for them, that's what matters. They don't think about how puffy their face would get if they hung themselves, or how awkward they'd be positioned on the ground if they jumped off a building. They don't think about the possibility of surviving afterwards and dealing with the deformity.

Pietro’s lifeless body flashes in her mind.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Wanda finally notices the iron grip she had on Natasha’s hand.

She didn’t want to talk about Pietro. Never. “What’s going to happen to me?”

Her friend looks away, “You’re suspended until you get help.”

“What! No!” Wanda sits up, snatching her hand out of Natasha’s grip, “This was the first time! Bruce tried to kill himself, why isn’t he suspended?”

“That was before he even joined.”

Wanda sighs, “So, what like, therapy for a week?”

Natasha raises her eyebrows, “Wanda, you tried to kill yourself. You need to be monitored.”

“I’m not a fucking child. Jesus, Nat!”

“It’s not up to me, Fury’s orders. Either get help or you’re fired, basically.”

“Don’t I need a psychological evaluation or some shit?”

“Wanda, you swallowed a whole bottle of whatever-the-fuck pills. I can evaluate you right now. You’re fucked in the head, babe.” Natasha attempts to joke.

She sighs in relief when Wanda huffs out a laugh, “So, you’re sending me to the loony bin?”

“Yup. It’ll be great though, perks of being an Avenger.” Natasha places a comforting hand on Wanda’s shoulder.

“How long will I be there?”

Natasha grabs Wanda’s hand that’s picking at her gown, “Until you’re better.”

The sound of a girl yelling stops their conversation.

❅❅❅

“Inpatient would be the best option…”

The ringing in your ears blocks out whatever the doctor was saying. What the fuck. You were not crazy. So what if you were bulimic. You didn’t constantly starve yourself and avoid food so you were chill, but you also were not getting fat, so you were hot. It’s like a win-win.

You’re sitting with your parents, a doctor across from you. He must be a therapist, or psychologist…psychiatrist? Potato, Tomato.

A hand on your shoulder brings you back to earth. Tears are pooling in your mothers eyes, your father is sighing into his hand. “What about my classes? My life!”

“Lower your voice. You aren’t being sent away to the fucking Alcatraz.” Your father grits out.

The doctor chimes in, “I’m sure you’ll be able to do your school work, most institutions let you have books and supervised computer time.”

You push your mothers hand off your shoulder. “Why are you doing this to me?”

She scoffs, “Me? Why are you doing this to yourself!”

“You can’t make me!” Passersby can hear your voice through the closed door of the office.

It was true, they couldn’t really. You were a legal adult, they couldn’t make you do shit. Your mother pinches the bridge of her nose before turning to your father expectedly. You look back and forth between them with an eyebrow raised.

“We won’t support you anymore if you don’t do this.” He finally pushes out.

“What? As if you’ve ever supported-”

Oh. Financially. College and such. Housing and such. Food…and such.

You’re not that level of adult, yet.

“What the fuck-”

“Language!”

“No! What the actual fuck! I’m not sick!”

Your father’s face contorts in anger, “Did you not hear a single word the doctor said? Your potassium levels, electrolytes, and heart are all fucked! You could have a heart attack!” He takes a breath,

“You are killing yourself.”

“What?” You don’t know what to say. Why is your heart beating so fast?

You let out a frustrated shriek, getting up to leave. They don’t know what they’re saying. You storm out of the office, narrowly avoiding passing nurses and stretchers, trying to ignore the sense of dread building within you.

Heart attacks were a lame death. You could imagine how stupid you'd look; jaw wide open, leaning back in your desk chair, clutching at your chest. The door to your room is always locked, so your parents wouldn’t care to check for a while. They’d just assume you were isolating yourself.

Stiffening up in that position, rotting and decomposing. So lame, so ugly.

It didn’t scare you.

Your head ricocheting off a wall interrupts your spiral.

Natasha winces, peaking over the door to find you on the floor, rubbing your head. Wanda had asked her to check what was going on, and you happened to be passing by at the same time she opened the door. You push yourself off the floor before Natasha could help you up. Black spots appear in your vision and you start swaying. You must’ve stood up too fast.

Natasha holds you up as you fall into her for a second, before you regain your bearings.

“Get off me!”

She lets go immediately, raising an eyebrow when you double-take at the sight of Wanda.

‘She’s so skinny.’

Wanda looks up at you, confused when she takes you in. You could’ve been the same weight as her, if not a little more. She doesn’t read people's thoughts if she can help it, but yours were so loud. You blush when she makes eye contact with you, turning and stomping away.

Your footsteps fade as Natasha closes the door, making her way back to Wanda. The widow smiles at Wanda, poking her side, “I think she has a crush on you.” Wanda’s eyes widen, “No way; she said I was skinny.” Natasha tilts her head, “Like in a disgusted way?” The witch looks down at her hands.

She assumed it was envy at first, but you didn’t look like you weighed significantly more than her. Nor was it disgust, based off of how you looked at her.

“Not…really. I don’t know.”

Natasha sighs, “Well, it doesn't matter. We’ll fatten you up in no time.”

She winces at Wanda’s obviously forced laugh.

She didn’t like being skinny, but it was an effect of her depression. It wouldn’t be that easy to reverse. The only reason she was open to this treatment was so that she could go back to work. She’ll just pretend to get better, go back, and work until she can’t take it anymore. Next time, she’ll use a gun. Actually, would she subconsciously stop the bullet with her powers? The pills almost killed her, maybe she’d just lock her door next time. She could pick up smoking, maybe that’d be like a backup. A slow, eventual death could be happening in the background while she found short term options. Multitasker.

“What’re you thinking about?”

Wanda is taken out of her reverie as Natasha pokes at her stomach again. She smiles, shaking her head and curling up into the bed. The older redhead pats her shoulder, “The squad’s going to visit before you leave. Just thought I’d give you a heads up.”

Wanda groans, she didn’t need any more people up her ass.

She stiffens at the sound of sniffling, looking up when she feels her shoulder dampen.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

Natasha leans over her frame, hair masking her face. The brunette stammers, racking her brain for a reply. She’d never seen Natasha so emotional. It was like hearing Steve use slang.

She sighs, curling further into herself and ignoring Natasha. She wishes she could reassure her. Tell her that even the thought of trying again made her nauseous, but she couldn��t. She couldn’t live the rest of her life seeing her brother's corpse every time she blinks.

Living with the memory of Pietro’s death for the rest of her life was worse than any torture she’d ever endured.

She ignores the flashing images as her eyes drift close, falling asleep to the sound of Natasha’s sniffling.

❅❅❅

A/N: I lowk regret writing in in second person but yolo. reply to this post if u wanna get tagged in the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed!

Tags: @mathxa @nikkinss

[pjmparadise]

3:23 am (don’t go, stay) Pt 1 || JJK

Pairing: jungkook x f! original character

Word count: 12.1k

Genre(s): fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, slight angst if you squint; neighbor au, pre-debut Jungkook au, pre-debut au, comic book artist Jungkook au, apartment au, neighbor au

Warnings: cursing, mentions of jungkook’s penis (yeah yeah... he sleeps naked ofc), brief injury (jk hurts himself bc he’s a dork); descriptions of anxiety and fear (jungkook is scared for a sec, oops); nudity mentions, jungkook is a little horny (what can I say....), jungkook gets a hard on lol; he’s also down bad pathetic crushing and is super clumsy, and brief mentions of home robberies (lol this feels random, but it isn’t I swear), very heavily dialogue based

Audience: 18+ (minors, DNI!)

Summary: Jungkook has had a couple of awkward run-ins with his pretty upstairs neighbor, who he may or may not be secretly pining over, and one night, she pays him an unexpected visit.

“My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”

“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”

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A/N: WOOO! my first jungkook fic!! We recently got his birth time, and thus this title was born lol! I’ve been working on this baby for a few months now, and it’s finally finished!! After a long time of contemplating, i decided to make our female character an original character, and i know it’s kind of a rare thing in the community, but i felt it worked best with my story. It’s been a bumpy ride with this one since it’s my first lengthy fic (over 12k words... sheesh!) that will be a part of a short series. I’m very excited and a little nervous, but if you’re here, I’m glad to have you here. Thank you for giving my work a shot <3 (ps. italics indicate jungkook’s inner thoughts as well as flashbacks)

a big thank you to my lovely beta’s: @cherrysoulth @the-boy-meets-evil​ and @jeonjcngkook​ you’ve all helped me shape my fic and have been so helpful, and I am so so grateful. truly. seriously. thank you for brainstorming with me, for reading my work, and for being so sweet and so supportive.

a special thank you to @itaeewon​ for the lovely banner! I love it so so much &lt;3

Jungkook is awake to hear the sound of a muffled thud nearby.

His bedroom is dark and silent save for the alarm clock resting on a bedside table flashing bright red numbers at him. ‘It’s late, it’s late, you should be asleep,’ the time says. Jungkook shuts his eyes, groaning and rubbing a hand over his face. “I know, fuck, I know,” he mutters. He’s fully naked, lying on his back, eyes wide open and boring into the ceiling, blanket kicked off to the side, and arms folded behind his neck–still remembering a phone conversation with Namjoon earlier in the day.

“So she walked toward the elevator as it closed, and you didn’t open it for her?” Namjoon scoffs over the phone, shaking his head and clicking his tongue to show he’s disappointed. He knows Jungkook froze, Jungkook already told him he wanted to reach out and push the button for her, but Namjoon asked again anyway—he likes to give him a hard time. “Every time you see this girl, things just kind of go wrong. I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a sigh. “I’ve noticed too. Is it a sign? Should I give up?” In his apartment, he sat curled up on his couch, his chin on his kneecaps. He’s fallen silent in thought.

“No, nothing like that. Maybe she didn’t get to see it was you, so she thinks it was someone else, or maybe she doesn't even think about it anymore. You know, like things that happen in your day you forget about later unless something reminds you of it?”

“Yes!” Jungkook relaxed, falling back against the couch with a hand over his forehead. “That probably is what’s going on. She went on with her day; other things have to happen, right?”

Namjoon was quiet. In his apartment, he was opening mail and reading over a proposal he was meant to sign soon. A project he hasn’t mentioned to anyone else, Namjoon folds the letter and sets it aside. “Sorry, yes. Yes, don’t worry too much. It will ruin your day. I mean that. Sorry for the pause. I just opened some mail.”

“Ah, okay. Well, you’re right.” Jungkook rose from his seat then. “Namjoon-hyung?”

Namjoon nodded even though he couldn’t be seen. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. I don’t know if I say that enough, but you’re always helping and guiding me when I don’t even realize I need it.”

“Thank you, Jungkook. Finish your comic tonight, and submit it tomorrow. I know you’ll place in the contest and do well. You haven’t scrapped it have you?”

Jungkook sighed. Rubbing his eyelids, walking distractedly around his living room, he spoke with his eyes closed. “I have it. I finished it; I just don’t feel too good about posting it, even with the pseudonym; it feels like too much. Too much with what we already have going on as a group even. We’re trying to do something together, and the comic stuff is just… I don’t know. I don’t want it to distract me.”

Namjoon was on his back patio, leaning over the railing and looking out at the park across from him. “Jungkook, I’m going to tell you something and think about it however you want to. I respect your life, but I think—and these are just my opinions. I think you doubt yourself too often and need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.” Namjoon folds his arms over the railing, leaning his body against it. “No rush, bro. At all. The music we’re trying to pursue, it’s not going anywhere, you know?”

Jungkook nodded from his living room.

“Like, okay, look.” Namjoon fixed his gaze on a flock of birds rising from the trees. “The guys, we all have our passions. Yoongi with his piano, Jimin is passionate about his dancing, Taehyung with his instruments, Jin and his gaming, and Hoseok he’s been designing his own clothes lately; with me, you know I like poetry and painting, but we all share music. That is for the team, for a part of us, but we each have so many parts. You like art and storytelling; your comics are so cool, bro. You love watching Taehyung practice the trumpet, and Jimin dance after practice. We like to see you pursue your other dreams too.  Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.”

Jungkook almost cried. He stopped pacing. His heart was racing; it was all he had heard momentarily. If Namjoon were there in front of him, he’d hug him. Maybe he’d even cry. “Ah, Namjoon-hyung…” he swallowed hard at the saliva in his throat, blushing. ‘Namjoon always knows what to say,’ he thought. “I will think about it. I will set an alarm, just in case. I’ll decide in the morning, you know it’s my style to do that the day of. If I think about it now, it will be like this all day, and I’ll stress too much.”

“Good, then. Just think about it.” Namjoon smiled.

Jungkook lies motionless with his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, mouthing along to Namjoon’s words. “We like to see you pursue your other dreams too.  Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.” He sighs. How could he not worry about the guys? He’s twenty-five. Most idols start out much younger, and the mandatory enlistment is already so near for his hyungs. It’s bad timing, is all. My comic book can wait.

He wants to sleep, so he turns over, laying flat on his stomach, facing his wall. Resting his full body weight on his flaccid penis is slightly uncomfortable, but he ignores it. It’s the type of restless night that he has no chance up against, and even with his eyes closed, he feels painfully awake. Jungkook is thinking of her again—her pretty smile, the pink sundress she wore in the elevator, her ability to look him in the eyes and not shy away—and it’s almost like she's here, in the same room with him. He pictures the sundress again, the way it clung to her frame, highlighting every curve. Man, I want her. He shifts his hips around, surprising himself with a massive erection.

The thud strikes again suddenly, and he sits up, alarmed. Shit, is that here? Like outside my apartment? Jungkook squints in the darkness, bringing a hand to the nightstand to fetch his glasses. Any sign of arousal is now extinguished.

“Bam?” He calls out in a sluggish voice.  The clock beside him flashes bright red numbers at him. 3:23. “Ah, shit,” Jungkook mumbles, turning the clock away. A sound he can’t distinguish comes from his left, directly outside his bedroom. “It’s like home alone,” he says to no one.

Jungkook rests his head against the wall, the texture cold against his feverish face. He can hear the sound of a muffled conversation. “Shit, that’s right here, right outside,” he mumbles, stepping back. He reaches over mechanically to switch on the lamp beside him.

Now, Jungkook is painfully aware of his nakedness and frenetically searches for bottoms to change into. He’s thinking about how his legs don’t feel like his own as he walks to the chair by the door, where he sees basketball shorts. It’s like sleepwalking. Even though he’s awake, Jungkook feels as though he might’ve actually fallen asleep, and this is some strange anxiety dream he’s creating to cope with his qualms about submitting his comic. Still, he goes along with it, quietly changing into the shorts, walking out into his living room, and ducking his head when he passes the glass patio door.

Cursing under his breath, annoyed at himself for forgetting to throw on a shirt, Jungkook shakes his head at himself. I don't want to fight an intruder shirtless and commando in basketball shorts, damn... A part of him feels a rush of adrenaline as he crouches behind a potted plant and, chewing on his lower lip, fantasizes about a robbery gone wrong, one where he puts his boxing skills to the test—the other part of him wants this to be a dream, a sign from the universe that he ought to submit his comic. I’ll fucking do it if I survive this.

Jungkook stays like that for a while until he hears a sound again. Rising from his crouched position, he walks toward the back patio window, pulling back the curtain to peer out. He feels a tightness in his chest, and his hands tremble slightly. A shameful part of him is relieved that he’s alone and no one is around to see how shaken up he is.

He whistles quietly, calling to Bam, forgetting his brother is watching over him tonight. Craning his neck, he glances around his balcony patio and sees nothing. “Bam, come here,” his whispering is frantic. He whistles again, patting his leg lightly. Nothing. You’re okay. It’s nothing. It’s probably the cats again tipping over the plants. Just fix it tomorrow. Now, go back to bed. You need it. Jungkook is about to whistle once more when he remembers. His eyebrows knit together; shaking his head, he places his fingertips on his eyelids, murmuring a lamented, “Ah.”

Thinking better of it, he draws the curtain back again and sighs with relief before taking note of a figure crouched behind a chair with a hand shooting up to rub their head. Panic washes over him. His inner monologue consists of a string of every curse word he can think of as he ducks out of view. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s a person. If he’d been scared earlier, now he’s downright petrified.

Desperate, he begins to look around the room for a weapon. Anything. Jungkook stands still, breathing in heavy gulps of air, cradling his head as he adjusts his vision to the darkness of the living room. ‘Can’t even turn a fucking light on,’ he thinks as he drops to the ground and crawls around his living room. His home’s silence unsettles him. Jungkook can hear the nothingness aside from his ragged breathing, so he pinches the skin on his arm and hisses at the sharp pain. Okay, real life it is. His bare knees skid against the hard flooring, and his clammy palms slip beneath him; his heart is thudding hard and fast, the blood pooling between his ears. He’s scowling, chewing his lower lip, his chest heaving as he fumbles a hand under the couch; he fingers a cold object and remembers what it is. Aha! He comes up with a golf club Taehyung left behind a few nights ago. I love you, Taehyung!

Jungkook grips the golf club until his knuckles take on a pale color. Having a weapon gives him a newfound sense of security, and like before, he’s fantasizing about kicking someone’s ass. “You come to my house at three in the morning? My house?” he says as he walks through his living room, rolling his shoulders.

He draws the curtain again, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness; he sees the figure facing away from him and hunching over, a phone glowing against their face. He can call the police, and he almost wants to, but to avoid the drama of a police visit at three in the morning, he decides against it. Imagine the guys find out I called the police? He shudders at the thought. The stranger looks small anyway.

Jungkook reaches for the doorknob and pulls back the door. It’s a lot chillier than he’d anticipated. He folds his arms over his bare chest instantly, the skin covered in goosebumps—his teeth chatter of their own accord.

“Don't move!” He raises the golf club in a mid-swing position, ready to strike. The person shifts around, holding up the hand with the phone. “I said, ‘Don’t move’!” He sounds ridiculous, but he doesn't care. In the shadows, he watches the phone’s glow shut off. “I called the police, so don’t try anything. They’re on the way.” His voice doesn't even sound like his own. He takes a few steps toward the stranger, his grip tightening around the golf club. His heart feels heavy in his chest.

It’s hard to make out the features of this person, but they rise, walk toward the dim light spilling from the neighbor’s window, and he can see them now. The stranger looks straight at him, and he’s met with wide eyes staring at him. She’s standing, squinting at him with a hand on her hip, and she smiles wide. Damn! If this were an animation, she’d have a halo effect.

Jungkook has seen her a total of seven times—he can’t help it; he likes to keep track of these things. It’s his upstairs neighbor, their interactions before tonight being brief and in passing (the most recent engraved in his mind and tormenting him), and he’s thought of her tirelessly and has fantasized about a time they should meet, and things go well for a change.

Jungkook doesn't know her name, but he could recognize those beautiful dark eyes anywhere. He’s looking into them now, his body anchored, mouth turning into sawdust.

She’s talking to him; he’s just not listening. Not really. He can't grasp the reality that it’s actually her, and she’s standing on his patio, and she looks so beautiful. Should he be thinking that?

Her long black hair is in a loose ponytail, her eyebrows arch as her deep dark eyes blink at him, and her lips move. “Please tell me you didn't really call the cops,” she says, bursting through his trance.

Damn, I sounded so stupid! Jungkook blushes. He hopes she can’t tell from where she stands.

“I was trying to call my friend; I swear I was not snooping or breaking in.” She smiles, but her voice sounds worried. Her eyebrows furrow like she’s trying to read him. “Honest,” she says in a small voice as she leans on the railing and raises her hand with the cell phone for emphasis.

She’s wearing a dark gray sweatshirt twice her size and sandals with white socks, and he can’t tell if she’s wearing shorts or if the sweatshirt is all. He can feel his face reddening just from the possibility of her nakedness underneath the sweatshirt, so he decides not to focus on that.

Jungkook rubs the nape of his neck, abashed. The cold air surrounds him, and he folds his arms across his chest, remembering his exposed chest. His empty threat echoes and bounces around in his head, and he looks away from her. “I didn't call the cops, sorry. I didn't know what else to say. It’s what they say in movies.”

“You would be right anyway; this is your patio.” She laughs a little at that, and his heart rate picks up. She pushes herself away from the railing, smiling, and walks toward him with an outstretched hand. Her nail polish is glittery, and he doesn't notice, but this small detail makes him smile. “I’m Rei. I live upstairs. Maybe you’ve seen me before.” There’s a coy look on her face as she says this, and it makes him nervous.

So her name is Rei!!! Fireworks set off, exploding behind Jungkook’s wide eyes.

“Huh, maybe,” Jungkook lies. He shakes her hand slowly, his hand enveloping hers entirely, the contact sending a warm shock through his body.

“Maybe a few days ago,” she says, with a finger to her chin, like she’s thinking over something. “Oh, yes, have I seen you on the elevator?”

“The elevator?” He feigns innocence as he tongues his lip ring anxiously. “That’s strange. Every day is a blur for me.”

“For me, too,” she replies. She’s almost smirking, watching Jungkook lie. He can tell she’s caught him. “You just look sooo familiar.”

“That’s a first.” Still, he denies it.

“Maybe you just look like someone I’ve seen,” she says, looking into his eyes as if searching for something she placed there. “You have one of those faces, you know?”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows, lips parted to speak, but nothing comes out. 

Is she flirting with me or giving me a hard time? DAMN!

“I have an ordinary face?” Jungkook wonders after a moment.

“Either that or my memory is failing me,” she says, sighing and shaking her head. “Which do you think it is?”

“I don't have an ordinary face,” Jungkook says in a small voice, “I have piercings on my face.”

“That’s true…” she’s watching the ground and suddenly looks into his eyes again. She holds his stare unblinking, and then her lips pull back into a big smile showing off cute bunny teeth. Just like me. “I’ve always had a good memory; I was just kidding.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, blushing.

He can smell her perfume when a cold breeze blows past him, carrying her real-life presence and enveloping him in it. It’s sweet and mixed with a scent of detergent he recognizes, and he’s watching how strands of her hair float beside her face. She’s so cute. Damnnnn.

“You should open the door for the ladies,” Rei says, raising an eyebrow, and stepping closer, she says, “Just harmless advice. Stranger .”

“I will consider that,” he replies, avoiding her fixed stare, attempting to ignore how she’s riled him up with a loud clearing of his throat. But his chest is on fire, his heart thudding hard against his rib cage at her closeness. “My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”

“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”

She laughs, and he internally swoons. If he were a cartoon, his heart would burst out of his chest in comical dramatic thuds, his pupils heart-shaped.

“I’m kidding. I know I’m giving you a hard time when I’m on your patio at three in the morning, but I can explain why I’m here,” Rei mimics Jungkook’s movements by crossing her arms across her chest, her lower lip trembling, “but can I come in? It’s cold out, and I'm in the worst attire for this weather.” She gestures vaguely at her exposed legs, and Jungkook’s stare lingers before she notices—so he responds with a nod as he gestures for her to follow him inside. “Though you might have me beat. You came out here without a shirt, damn.”

Leading the way, he blushes at her comment and gives his head a light shake. She’s so talkative! Yoongi was right about her.

With a dreamy air about him, he remembers Namjoon’s words. Except now, all he remembers is: “You need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.”

Inside, Jungkook excuses himself to his room to change into a shirt. He reaches for his glasses beside his bed and goes to the closet. “Shirt, shirt, shirt,” he mutters as his hands sift through empty hangers. When was the last time he did laundry? He groans. “Shirt?” he reaches to pick up a heap of white clothing in the deep corner of the closet. He brings the shirt to his nose, sniffs, and walks back into the room, raising an eyebrow and nodding with approval. His hands are shaky as he maneuvers his head through a t-shirt sleeve in a panicked rush. He yanks the shirt off again, the t-shirt now inside out and knotted up in his grip; he groans as his fingers work the fabric. What if she’s gone when I go back out there? Agh, what if I’m dreaming all of this up, and lack of sleep is finally getting to me?

Rei’s voice comes through the walls, and though this is their first official meeting, he knows she’s smiling as she calls out to him. “You okay in there?”

Smoothing out the wrinkles on the shirt, he glances at his reflection behind the bedroom door before stepping out, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. “I’m okay; all is OK. Sorry.” He offers her a thumbs up and a big goofy grin that makes her laugh.

“Did you go on a hike without me?” She asks from her seat on his couch. She rests her face on her palm, looking up at him as he walks past toward the kitchen.

“Hike? I just put the shirt on; it was fighting me, though.”

“No, I meant,” she shakes her head, laughing. “I meant that as a while for changing into a shirt. Bad joke, sorry.”

“Ah,” Jungkook says.

“You’re wearing glasses,” she comments, her eyes looking over his face.

“I am,” he says, glancing her way.

It looks like she wants to say something else but doesn't.

He raises his eyebrows, nodding and tonguing the inside of his cheek. It doesn't happen often, but he doesn't know what to say. He walks into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. “Do you drink tea?” He wonders as he fills a kettle with water and sets it to boil.

Rei nods, stretching her legs before her and craning her neck back to look up at the ceiling. “Chamomile or whatever you have, I’m not picky.” She points a finger above her head, motioning for him to look. “Those are stars. Is this wallpaper? It looks pretty. Is it glow-in-the-dark?”

Jungkook is in the kitchen, his eyes watching how her finger moves in a swift motion of the length of the ceiling. He thinks about how her hand felt in his grip and wishes he’d been more present. “It’s… I don’t know, actually. It’s not a wallpaper; it’s carved into the ceiling, and yes, it glows but not like the bright green; it’s softer.” He looks at her, and she scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. “Want to see?”

She twists her body to look at him, her smile so big he can’t help but return the affection. “Yes. Show me.”

“Grab the remote beside you; turn off the lights with it.”

She clicks the lights off, and the gasp she lets out makes his heart flutter in his chest. Aside from the hard thudding in his chest, the only sounds nearby are the buzzing of the refrigerator, the ice machine rolling out handfuls of freshly carved-out cubes, and the bubbling water in the kettle. Jungkook doesn't dare disturb the quiet; he’s leaning against the kitchen table, wanting her to stay. He looks for her in the dark, his eyes finding her silhouette on the couch, his lips pulling back into a smile. She’s better than in his daydreams; she smells sweet and of detergent, and she feels like a real person just like him, so near but out of his reach. And here, in the same room as him, so close to him, Jungkook realizes she could’ve left by now but hasn’t.

“I’d love it if I had this on my ceiling,” Rei pouts, “want to trade?” She clicks the lights back on, and Jungkook blinks, slowly adjusting to the brightness.

He pretends to mull it over, humming and tonguing his cheek. He puts on his best-thinking face. “No way, but you can come over and look at the stars when it's overcast or raining outside.” He walks toward the stove, where the water boils in the kettle. With his back turned to her, he’s hiding his blushing face as he sets two cups out before him.

“I think that sounds nice,” she replies, surprising him. “So what, I walk outside sometime, see a gray sky, and come downstairs to see you? ‘Hey, neighbor, can I see the stars?’ and you say, ‘Come in, I’ve just made cocoa, would you like some?’ and I say, ‘Thank you, are you sure?’ and then you say, ‘Sure’ except I never leave because I like the stars so much and you don’t know how to tell me I should go home.”

“Oh, that’s a good conversation. Is that what you’d like me to make? I like hot cocoa,” Jungkook says, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “You think I'd want you to leave?”

“Well, if I were here all the time….” she looks at him through her lashes, and he catches her eyes and raises an eyebrow at her, a playful smirk on his lips. And she shakes her head, laughing. “Do you mean it, though?”

“About you coming to see the stars whenever you’d like?” Jungkook asks, leaning against the kitchen island. She nods at him in two slow motions of her head. “Yes, I mean it.”

“The skies are unusually gray these days, aren’t they?”

“I’ve noticed that too,” he says, opening the fridge. He grabs a box of cherries and shuts the door with his elbow. “But no rain.”

“Exactly, I told my friend Kimi; she lives with me upstairs and is almost a sister to me, except we have different parents. Well, I told her, ‘Haven't you noticed how it looks like it’s going to rain every day, but it never does?’ and she says, ‘Rei, it rains. It just happens to be when you’re asleep,’ and can you believe it? I woke up yesterday, and it was early, not like tonight, but early for me, and I looked outside my window, and there was dew sticking to the glass, and it was all sweaty when I touched the windowpane, and I realized she was right, it rained during the night, and I just missed it. Isn't that something so lame?”

“Huh,” Jungkook says, chewing on a cherry and offering the box to her. She shakes her head no and mouths a ‘Thank you’ to him. “So we’re off asleep and just missing the rain, so it always works out that we’re missing out on something during the day. It’s always like that. Kimi sees the rain, and you’re off sleeping, but you probably get to see other things I miss when I’m taking a nap and on and on.”

“That’s true. But I thought about catching it tonight. When I went to bed hours ago, I kept thinking about the rain and wondering if I stayed up, I might see it, and it wouldn’t just feel like I kept missing it and living the same gray day.”

“It’s like Santa Claus,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose as he tongues a cherry stem in his mouth, “waiting up all night for him to show up just for you to see your dad dressed up as Santa and realize he’s been putting the presents down there for years.”

Rei laughs at this and covers her face with her hands like she’s protecting her laugh from anything sharp. “Your dad did that? For real?”

Jungkook scrunches his eyebrows and pinches his nose bridge, and with a tone of feigned affliction, he says, “Yeah, he did. I knew the truth before a lot of my classmates.”

“How old were you? When he ruined Santa Claus. Do you remember a thing like that, like how old you were?” She rests her chin on her palm like she’s weighing her head. He thinks she looks cute like that but doesn’t say anything.

“I don't know exactly, but I was in the third year of school,” Jungkook says, suddenly thinking back on his infancy. He chews his lower lip when the answer suddenly comes to him, and he remembers the conversation he had with the guys a while back. They’d all taunted Seokjin when they found out Seokjin didn't know the truth about Santa until he was thirteen. “I was seven. I can't believe I remembered that. I was seven….” His mouth hangs open, and he remembers what he wore when he first saw his dad hunched over behind the tree with a gift in hand— a white flannel pajama set and his mother’s slippers. Where has this memory been hiding?  “Damn.”

“I was six,” she says, smiling. “My childhood was ruined a year before yours. Or wait, are we the same age? I just assumed we were.” She laughs again, bringing a hand up to her face to hide her smile.

“I assumed the same thing,” Jungkook admits, feeling his cheeks redden. “I’m twenty-five.”

“Oh wow,” she says, almost to herself. “Me too.”

He doesn't know what else to do but clear his throat and nod.  He never imagined getting this far (whatever that means). He’ll struggle to explain this later when Namjoon asks—Jungkook knows he’ll ask.

The kettle begins to whistle, and he’s reaching for the two coffee mugs as she says something behind him he doesn't catch. And he turns his head over his shoulder and nods at her. “What happened? Sorry, I didn't catch that.”

“I said, ‘You don't have to do that for me.’” She turns her head away as she says this, her long hair cascading along her profile, hiding her.

“I have a visitor,” he says, turning over to look at her with a grin. “I have good manners.”

“Oh, sure, manners,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him like a friend he’s known for years. “Is that my tea? It smells amazing.”

“It is, but it’s hot, so let’s leave it here.” Jungkook offers her a tight-lipped smile, shyly making his way toward her. “Mind if I sit next to you?”

“No, not at all; come, sit.” She pats the spot beside her and scoots over to make room for him. “Thank you for the tea and for letting me in. I know it’s late.”

Jungkook glances at the clock on the kitchen stove. 3:55. “It’s not that late. I was awake anyway, so I didn’t mind.” He’s toying with his lip ring again. “Why were you out there anyway?”

It’s been some time since Jungkook’s been this close to a girl. He feels his heart thudding away in his chest, her presence stirring up a desire that’s been dormant. Loose strands of hair frame her face, and his eyes follow her movements as she brushes the strands away. She looks embarrassed, her cheeks reddening. Still, he finds her so cute. “Truth?”

“Yes.” He scrunches his nose when he smiles at her.

“I locked myself out of my apartment. Before bed, I stepped out into my patio for a smoke and to read more of my book. I was also trying to test my rain suspicions to see if I could catch it while it happened. So, I’m out there romanticizing my life, pretending I’m in a movie; you know how we act when we’re alone and suddenly want to be poetic?” She looks at Jungkook, and he nods lightly. “That was me, except I got cold right away and said, ‘Oh fuck this, I’m going to bed,’ and that’s when I realized I’d locked the back door, and I was so mad I almost cried.” She places her fingertips against her forehead, continuing her recounting. “So, of course, I get the idea of calling a locksmith, but they’re closed; I don’t know what people should do if they need help during the night.”

“Most people sleep, I think.”

She clicks her tongue. “Right, some people do, but you and I are not those people, right?” She draws an imaginary line with her forefinger from her chest toward him. He nods and feigns oblivious as his leg brushes against her bare thigh as she shifts in her seat. “So, not only is every locksmith not available, but my service is horrible, so I am standing on my tiptoes trying to get a bar, and my phone slips. My heart almost burst.” She brings a hand to her chest for visual effect, and his eyes watch her chest as it rises and falls with each breath. He’s smiling at her—a wide smile that hurts his cheeks. “If it weren’t for your patio, my phone would be shattered to hell on the ground. I look over my balcony, and for the first time, I notice how close our balconies are.” Rei presses her hands over her thighs, leaning forward in her seat and fixing her eyes on the glass patio door across from her. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I don’t go out there much. Anyway, I’m rambling. I noticed I could jump directly into your patio because there’s a mattress out there, and well….” She makes a motion with her hands that says: ‘ Ya know?’

“You weren’t scared of jumping? The balconies are close, but we’re still six stories up.” Jungkook rests his hands on his knees, fully invested in this story; his eyes never leave her. She forms a tight line with her lips and gives him a serious look that makes him laugh. “Ok, so you were scared.”

“I was scared! But there’s a mattress out there, you know,” she says in a small voice. She’s blushing and scratching at the side of her nose to avoid his eyes.

Jungkook notices this and clicks his tongue, leaning back in his seat.  “So it was not an accident, then?” He raises an eyebrow at her, sucking his teeth in feigned disapproval.

The truth is, he’s not mad about it; he wants her here. He almost feels like he is in a dream.

“Not entirely. Don’t ask me how I thought about returning to my place after retrieving my phone because I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Oh, there’s a mattress out there. You could’ve just slept there; no big deal,” Jungkook says with a laugh. Rei brings a hand to her face to hide behind, making a groaning sound. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to laugh at you. I just don't know what to think— this has never happened before.”

“And it won’t happen again; let’s hope.” She laughs, and it’s different from before; it sounds deeper like she reached into herself and decided to really show him. And Jungkook likes the sound of her laugh but does not comment. She moves a few strands of hair from her face and rests her cheek on her hand, leaning on the couch's armrest. It’s slowly dawning on Jungkook how badly he wants her. What am I supposed to do with her this close to me? Damn. “So, what’s your name? You didn’t say when I told you mine.”

He rises from the couch, remembering their tea.

“Jeon Jungkook,” he says as he pours the tea, “I guess I forgot to introduce myself. Huh.”

Rei’s looking at him with her chin in her hand and a serious look on her face as he’s walking toward her with an outstretched hand in offering. “It’s chamomile,” Jungkook announces.

“Jeon Jungkook,” She repeats with a light smile. “I like it. I don’t know any other Jungkooks.”

“Yeah? I’ve had this name for a long time. I like it too.”

She takes the cup and brings it to her face, inhaling the scent and shivering, and says, “Thank you again. This tea smells sweet. It reminds me of this tea my grandmother used to make my sister and me when we were kids. She would put a little bit of honey, the real kind, and peppermint leaves; it was….” She sighs longingly. “I miss that tea; this smells like home.”

Sitting beside her, he takes a sip of tea, his gaze on her unmoving. Her lips part as she blows gently, the steam rising from the cup in lazy strokes. Jungkook’s heartbeat quickens when she matches his stare with her deep dark eyes that seem to look for something in his.

“This tea has honey, but I doubt it’s the real kind you mentioned, but I still think it’s good.” He clears his throat, looking away as he adjusts his glasses on his nose bridge.

“I like your glasses. I wanted to say that earlier,” Rei comments, taking a sip of her tea, “I don't know why I didn't say anything.” She moves around in her seat, tucking her legs beneath her, then asks, “Can I wear them? Are they prescription?”

“They’re just reading glasses. You can wear them. I put them on sometimes just because they suit me,” he pulls his glasses off, wipes the lenses on his shirt, and hands them over.

“Ah, so you like how they look on you,” she says, her eyes gleaming as she takes the glasses from him and sets them on her face. “How do they look?”

If he were a cartoon character from one of his comics, he’d have melted into a puddle, exploded like dynamite, turned into stardust, and returned to his original self. Except, she’s a real person just like he is, flesh and blood and so beautiful, and he’s off in space being reborn.

“Look at me,” he motions for her to turn his way. She looks straight at him, wearing his glasses and blushing at his attention. She begins to unfold in front of him, her playful demeanor softening. “You look pretty. If they weren't my prescription, I would give them to you.”

“Here, they’re hurting my eyes,” she says, laughing. She removes the glasses and starts rubbing her eyes with closed fists. “You’re sweet, though. I couldn't take a guy’s glasses. How will he go on drinking his tea and letting me in to watch the stars?”

Jungkook feels a warmth spread in his chest. God, how is she real? He runs his fingers through his long hair and coughs once, then again. His nerves are getting to him. She’s too close to him, her bare thigh soft against his leg. He begins to count backward in his head.

“Were you really awake already, or did I wake you?” She asks him all of a sudden. Her eyes stay on him as if waiting for him to say something else.

“You don’t believe me? I was awake. Swear.” He raises his free hand at his side.

She appears to mull that over for a bit, bringing her cup of tea to her lips but not taking a sip. “What were you doing?”

Jungkook is silent, and she sits unmoving until he speaks.

What was I doing? Besides dreading another deadline? Thinking about a comic I might not submit or thinking about not having a shot in hell with a girl like you? Images of the times they’ve run into each other flick by in his head like a slow PowerPoint slide. The registration office, desolate stairwells, crowded evacuations, elevators closing, Rei standing in front of him in a summer dress with a strange look on her face; Rei on his back patio, hunched over with a phone near her face; Rei in his apartment, on his couch, next to him. He feels the adam’s apple in his throat rising and falling. He’s been quiet for who knows how long.

“Thinking, I guess.” He breathes out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I don’t know why I took so long to say that. It sounded boring in my head, so I had to think if there was something else I forgot about.”

“That is pretty boring, just thinking. But that’s life, though, isn’t it? Kind of boring sometimes.”

Jungkook nods, blushing and avoiding looking at her. What if she can read minds? He straightens his posture and runs his fingers through his hair again, his eyes fixed on the ceiling of carved-out stars. It’s OK. It’s OK. She’s still here.

The living room is almost dead silent. Jungkook notices how Rei sips her tea and looks over the area. It’s neat, for the most part. Bam’s toys lay scattered near the laundry room entrance, along with some of Jungkook’s dirty socks the dog likes to chew on, and Bam’s food bowls are resting up against the wall beside his doghouse. The potted plants Namjoon gifted Jungkook are still alive and pop against the beige coloring of the walls in front of them. The TV is massive, his Playstation console resting on its side. Her eyes find the corner shelf where Jungkook’s Marvel figurines are on display behind glass doors, and she turns to look at him with a sparkle in her wide eyes. “Are those yours?” She gestures with her thumb. He nods, chewing his lower lip anxiously. “Can I look?” She rises from her seat when he motions for her to go on. Like standing in a museum, she silently peers into the display with her hands clasped behind her back.

“I just got that case a few days ago when I got that plant next to you,” Jungkook remarks, joining her.

“I remember,” she says distractedly.

“You remember?” His eyebrows raise, and he looks at her fixedly, bringing a fingernail to his mouth. He scrunches his eyebrows, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers; he remembers, too.

He’d bumped into Rei on his way upstairs, both arms holding the bonsai trees obstructing his view, taking long strides up the stairs, chanting to himself and grunting in rhythm. He was on the 50th stair.

“Hey!” A voice shouted at him. “What the hell?”

Jerking to the side of the staircase, flattening against it, Jungkook jumped at this voice. “Sorry! You’re okay?”

The voice struck him as familiar, but mostly, he was surprised he wasn't alone on the staircase. The person laughed a lively laugh, and he felt his chest tighten. He lowered the plants, meeting her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said, shaking her head. She grinned at him, and his heart gave a squeeze. “These things happen. I should take the elevator next time.”

“The plants, I mean. You walked past me going up the stairs and hit me on the head with it.” She glances to her right, catching his eyes briefly. He groans, nodding lightly. She continues, voicing their shared memory, “You were carrying two pots of plants that day and lost your balance or something like that.”

He nods with his eyes closed, his eyebrows drawn close together as he tongues his cheek. “I remember, too,” he opens his eyes to look over at her as he continues, “sorry again. My friend told me not to do that, and I didn’t listen.”

A Spiderman figurine holds her attention, and she’s smiling. He feels his cheeks burn at her sincere gesture. She pretends not to notice and says, “You like running into me like that, then?”

“Like how? It was an accident,” Jungkook says, standing beside her and stretching his arms behind his head.

“Riiiiight,” she says, smirking. “Accident.”

“I didn’t know you were in the stairwell. No one takes the stairs,” Jungkook counters, his voice taking on a defensive edge.

“I take the stairs, I like the exercise, and it’s less embarrassing for me,” She admits. “Running in front of people just looks so stupid. I get too worked up about it and think people are just laughing at me, and they might be, but this way, I can do it in private.”

“Running across the street when cars let you pass is very embarrassing for no reason,” Jungkook says with a laugh. “And okay, fair. I took the stairs that time just because the wait for the elevator was so long. I didn’t mean to hit you that time either.”

“Jungkook, we have to stop meeting like this.” She gives her head a light shake and looks down at her hands. She picks at the glitter on her nails distractedly. “So many accidents. We’re too clumsy.”

“I know what you mean. Namjoon told me to leave one of the plants in the lobby, but I was too impatient. I’m like that sometimes.” He can’t seem to stop blushing.

But Jungkook has to agree. There have been too many accidents in their run-ins with each other, and he remembers each encounter with extreme detail.

Jungkook saw her for the first time when he moved in and face-planted into her back as she stood by the entrance of the registration office. But it didn't happen right away, at least.

The office was big and bustling with sounds. Jungkook walked in, asked out loud if there was a line, and someone nearby replied that yes, there was a line, and he was right at the tail of it. He bounced on the heels of his feet, humming a melody to himself, tapping his fingers against the sides of his legs. A TV across from him played a K-Pop music video of a group he’d never heard of. Beneath the TV was a table with a Terra Kaffe espresso machine accompanied by a spread of dan-pat bbang, songpyeon, bingsu, and reusable cups. His stomach grumbled, but he kept still, willing himself to look away.

Rei stood in line, a foot or two in front of Jungkook, sporting her hair pulled back, secured neatly with a clip the shape of a butterfly. She wore casual clothing: a black long-sleeve sweatshirt, baggy pants, and white Nike shoes. She had earbuds in, and he could hear the muffled sounds of a guitar, and though he did not fully understand why, he smiled.

“Next in line, please,” a woman behind a glass window called out, taking an uninspired sip of her iced coffee as she waved a hand toward her. “Come on, next in line.”

Jungkook wore a black t-shirt, navy plaid bottoms, and socks with slides, though standing there, he began to regret his attire. His eyes looked over the office, and mentally, he tallied the number of girls he spotted. Nine. He felt his cheeks warming up, his neck growing hot, and when he looked over to his right, a girl waved at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He blushed, nodding at her. Why hadn’t he worn something nicer?

He was adjusting his sock, balancing on his right leg, when a dog ran past him, toppling him over. He hopped on his right leg, his arms flailing at his sides, and his face instantly smashed into Rei’s back. If he had a chance to do it over, he wouldn’t have cried out so loud. Even now, months later, he cringes at the memory. He’d turned away, cupping his aching nose after she whipped her head over her shoulder at the sudden impact. Their eyes met briefly, her pupils dark and wide; she mouthed something to him, his ears ringing, all of the sounds around him muddled into incoherence.

“I’m so sorry. Excuse me,” Jungkook mumbled, turning at his heel and speed-walking past a group of girls that giggled when he passed them.

Jungkook thought about her all day after that first day. While he unpacked, walked Bam, and cooked for himself later in the evening. She was pretty, sure, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t break apart and understand— it was new and brought on a strange sensation and desire to know her. He didn't know it then, but he’d see so much of her it would become nearly impossible not to think of her.

And here they are, five months later.

“You agree, don't you?” Rei prods. “Maybe you’re the clumsy one, Jungkook. I was just standing there.” She says that like she knows what he’s thinking. That first day they saw each other. She’s thought of it too.

He swoons at the sound of his name escaping her lips again. “Jungkook,” he mouths, taking it in—not wanting to forget how it sounds when she says it.

She turns on her heel, returning to the couch and fetching her phone from between the cushions. Her backside faces Jungkook, and he shyly lowers his gaze when he catches a glimpse of her ass in shorts that do a poor job of hiding anything. “I’m impatient too, as you know now,” she offers, looking down at her phone, her face illuminated with the screen's glow. She reads something and has a serious look on her face. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?”

He squints at the clock on the stove. 4:27. “Yeah, I guess so,” he replies, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Your figures are cool, by the way. They look like the real deal. Are they?”

He nods silently, tonguing his lip ring. Jungkook watches her with a gut-wrenching desire to step forward and take her face into his hands and kiss her.

“You’re a Marvel geek. I'm guessing,” she says, staring down at the ground. It’s like she’s suddenly shy. Her voice is quieter. “I like some of the movies. I saw the new Spider-man with my friends last week. I’m late, I know.”

“I have Disney plus,” Jungkook says, his eyes looking her over. “And I’m not trying to say anything like the ramen stuff, you know, all that stuff people say to each other recently to get together. It’s a real offer.”

Rei laughs, bringing a hand to cover her face. “So you don't want to get together?” She looks at him with a deep intensity in her eyes and smiles coyly, making Jungkook swallow hard.

“I said that, didn't I? That’s not what I meant. It’s just that nowadays, words have different meanings. Let me rephrase-”

She takes a step closer to him, and his chest feels ablaze. She’s so close he can smell the fragrance of her clothing much clearer than before. We use the same detergent.

“I’d like to come by sometime,” she says, her eyes lingering on his hands holding his cup, “for a movie, no ramen.” Now she smiles warmly and takes a step back.

She likes doing this to me. It’s torture.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? You seem nice. I don’t think you’d be a freak, right?”

“Right,” he says, nodding.

“I know we’re technically strangers, but you have a good vibe,” she says, shrugging. “I show up here so late, and you serve me tea. You’re a nice guy.”

“Am I?”

“I think so. Are you?” She quirks up an eyebrow, twitching her lips between a smile and a laugh.

Jungkook smiles at her. He feels his cheeks growing warm. “I am. I don’t know why I challenged you about it.”

“Because you like to flirt with me, I think,” she retorts, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I’m just a nice guy,” he says as he places his palms  against the kitchen counter for balance, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.” She glances at her phone screen, reading the time, and Jungkook does the same with the time on the kitchen stove. She's going to leave. I can feel it.

“I guess I should get going…”. Rei looks apologetic for some reason. A pink shade colors her cheeks, and she brings a hand to her forehead and lets out a deep breath as she says, “Kinda hot in here, no?”

Jungkook wants to tell her she doesn't have to go and that he doesn't want her to, but he only offers her a timid smile and looks away, nodding in agreement. “A little. I’ve been feeling it too,” he says, looking at her and catching her eyes.

Should I move now? Is it now? My move? Will she kiss me back?

Still, he brings his cup of tea to his lips as she stores her phone in the pocket of her hoodie, and she pauses as if remembering something. “And why is there a mattress outside?”

He’s drinking his tea and begins to choke. Coughing, his chest on fire, and his throat closing in, Jungkook rushes to double over his sink, and she’s standing behind him with a wrought-up look.

“Are you okay?” She steps closer to him, lightly touching his arm.

Jungkook coughs, clearing his throat; he can feel the blood rushing to his face as his eyes instinctively shed tears. The feeling of her touch on his arm feels like fire. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. The uh, the mattress?” He looks toward his patio, a panicked look in his eyes behind the tear-stained glasses. He pauses, looking down at the floor. “I have them all over, so I can nap when I feel like it.”

She throws her head back and laughs, not taking him seriously until silence hangs between them. She raises an eyebrow. “Wait, really?” With that, her phone goes off in her pocket, and she reaches for it. “Sorry, one sec.”

He leaves her to talk on the phone with whoever and walks over to pick up Bam’s toys and dirty socks to throw in a hamper. Jungkook can hear the muffled phone conversation a room over, so he hums a song. She speaks in a hushed voice, but he hears his name mentioned.

He coughs before he reappears in the kitchen.

She’s humming to herself, lingering by the door, and his heart squeezes. ‘Don’t go,’ he wants to say. ‘Stay.’

“I should go…” she says, not budging from where she stands, chewing her lower lip, looking at Jungkook through full eyelashes. Almost as if waiting for him to interject, and him, not knowing how to.

“If you want,” Jungkook says. He swallows hard at a lump in his throat. The plead to have her stay pushed down into his chest.

DAMN!! 

A look he can’t decipher takes over her face, and then the next moment, she’s smiling at him, reaching for the doorknob just as he does. They share an embarrassed exchange of looks when their hands touch, and he shakes his head, an anxious chuckle escaping him. His face feels warm as he pulls the door open for her. Rei steps out into the hallway, turns over her shoulder, and raises her hand to wave at him slowly.

Again, he yearns to kiss her and again lacks the courage.

“Bye, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight, Rei,” he replies, leaning on the doorframe, his heart sinking into his stomach.

The next day, Jungkook is cooking for himself. He submitted his comic in the morning and has endlessly replayed last night’s events in his head.

“I should’ve kissed her,” he says to Bam.

Jungkook’s phone pings a few times and is followed by a call. He answers, distracted as he serves himself bibimmyeon and pork belly. He props the phone between his chin and ear, tilting his head comically as he walks back and forward to the table, setting down a steaming bowl of sticky rice. “‘Ey, Namjoon-hyung!…” He drags the chair out from underneath and settles in front of his plate. Jungkook reaches over the table, yanks a paper towel, grabs his chopsticks, and begins digging into the rice. “Wait,” he glances at the clock on the wall. 6:47. “It’s almost seven,” Jungkook says, confused. “Your meeting with the record executive started at six… it ended that quickly?”

Namjoon smiles. “The meeting was quick. I have really good news.” He pauses for effect. He’s in the studio, eyeing the email on screen. “Hold on,” he says, placing the phone on the desk and turning the speaker on.

 Jungkook is chewing his cheek, the chopsticks loosening in his grip. He lets the silence exist for a few seconds, then he rubs the back of his hair, leaning back in his chair, his spare hand fisted over his mouth. “What?” He grumbles into his fist.

“He liked my demo. He had some comments about it but said it would do well. He said everyone else liked it; whatever that means, we’re in. He said we can come in for a group meeting where we introduce the guys, and that way, we can all talk about what we want to do going forward.”

Jungkook is speechless; they’re in. All seven of them. He can’t believe it. He stares wide-eyed at Bam, who tilts his head quizzically. “No way. No way. Is this for real?” Jungkook’s heart is thudding so hard he can see it beneath his shirt.

“I swear, Jungkook. It is.”

“Do the guys know?” Once more, Jungkook meets the eyes of his dog, and he’s smiling so hard he feels his nose scrunch.

“Some of them do, yeah. I was with Jimin earlier.”

“Yoongi,” Jungkook says, bringing his palm over his forehead. Smiling with his eyes crinkling, he feeds himself rice. “Yoongi will be so happy. We all are, you know but him .” Jungkook makes a sound with his teeth. “He’ll be so proud of all of us.”

“I know, I know. Yoongi hasn’t slept well since we first submitted our demos, and when I mentioned I had a meeting with an executive, he grabbed his jacket and took off to the studio. I don’t know what he’s been doing when he comes in, but I know he might cry.”

“I might cry too,” Jungkook admits in a hushed voice.

Namjoon wipes at his eyes, and a silence hangs between them. They’re both sniveling on the receiving end. After Jungkook clears his throat and allows himself another sniffle, he starts eating again.

“What did you make?”

“I have a lot of rice left. I made bibimmyeon and pork belly, but I have some noodles, too, if you want me to make them. Come and eat with me if you’re free. Let’s celebrate.”

“Can I leave my bike outside?” Namjoon asks. Namjoon shuts off the shared laptop in the studio, grabs his puffer jacket and the book he’s been reading, heads over, and flips off the light switch. His phone remains on speaker as he locks the door and shoots a glance down the hallway. From a distance, Yoongi does a quick two-finger salute in passing. Namjoon’s heart gives a squeeze.

Jungkook thinks it over. He’s never seen anyone leave a bike outside. “I don't know, honestly. Bring it to my apartment; it’ll be fine. I have something to tell you, by the way,” he says, referring to the previous night.

“Just saw Yoongi,” Namjoon says, jingling the keys on his finger and making his way out of the building. “I have to tell him, but I think he’s already in his studio locked up. You know how he gets.”

“He won’t let you in,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose and stifling a laugh through a mouthful of steak.

“Exactly. And what is it? I’m bringing my bike, I thought about leaving it chained, but it’ll stress me out.”

“He’s almost done with his demos, Hobi said the other day,” Jungkook replies. “But it’s about her, bro. You won’t believe me.”

Namjoon laughs through the phone. “Mystery-neighbor-crush her, you mean?”

“Neighbor stuff, am I that annoying? Don't answer that. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you; just come in because I have to wash Bam.”

“All right, bro, give me twenty, and I’ll be there.”

Jungkook is sitting across from Namjoon, who raises an eyebrow at him as he chews on his steak. “So she came in here,” he swallows his bite and continues, “was on that couch?” he signals with his chopsticks, “and she went home after that?”

Jungkook nods. The moment he’s been dreading: admitting he chickened out. He’s not proud of himself and debates whether to omit a few things.

“Yeah, what else could’ve happened?” He takes a drink of his water, avoiding Namjoon’s gaze.

“So many things, bro. But, the very least that should have happened is that you got her number or something like that. Did you ask?”

Jungkook is quiet. His cheeks are flushing with heat. He’s chuckling at himself, remembering how he clammed up around her.

“You just let her leave, right? She walked out, thanked you, and you probably made her a tea she didn't drink.” Namjoon is laughing when Jungkook groans and shakes a fist above his head. “Ah, Jungkook!”

“I know!” Jungkook shakes his head. “But I got a name. I got a name; that’s something, isn't it?”

“Well?”

“It’s Rei. I don’t know where she’s from and all that, but that name just suits her, doesn't it?”

“It does, it does. But come on, bro! This girl lives so close!  For starters, she stuck around. She could've just left after explaining herself. Instead, she sat down right where you’re sitting and stayed .” Namjoon feeds himself rice as he shakes his head and continues while he chews, “She looked at you the last time we evacuated; I saw her. And how many times have you bumped into her already? She probably thinks you’re out to get her.”

“I know. I kept thinking the same. I thought: ‘She could've left by now, but she hasn’t. I don’t know, hyung, I just froze. I just kept nodding; it was so stupid.” Jungkook closes his eyes and places his fingertips over his eyelids, shaking his head in lament.

“Not stupid, bro,” Namjoon offers, swallowing his bite. “I’ve seen her around too, and she’s really pretty, but it’s a weird sensation when she’s nearby; it’s like her beauty is different. I don't mean it like I want her now, nothing like that, but it sort of feels like I am stuck too. Like, what can I say right now?”

Jungkook nods, understanding the sentiment. “It knocks the wind out of me sometimes when I see her,” he says, reaching for a napkin. “I wanted to say so much more, but I couldn't. It was different being close to her like we were. This girl is killing me, Namjoon-hyung. You said she looked at me?”

Namjoon smiles warmly. “She did, at the evacuation a week ago. Was it a week now?” He wipes at his mouth and looks at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook nods at him. “Well, a week ago, I went out last and caught her looking your way. She had her hand like this,” he brings his hand up to shield his eyes against nothing, “and she was smiling. She didn't see me noticing.”

Jungkook scoots closer. He rests his chin on Namjoon’s knee, looking straight at him until he’s cross-eyed. “At me?” he asks, loving that this happened.

Namjoon shakes his leg free and takes a sip of his water. “I think she likes you. She was looking at you the same way I’ve seen you look at her,” Namjoon reaches for his phone, checks a text, and continues, “so she would’ve been into you. Did she flirt with you?”

Jungkook mulls it over. He doesn't want to read too much into it, but he thinks she did flirt. “I could be wrong, and I’d hate to be wrong,” he says, “but I feel like she was into me, like, actually into me, and I thought about kissing her. Would that have been too forward?”

“Hmm,” Namjoon says as he chews his food. “Maybe. I have to see you two in action, to say. I think you can trust your gut, and if you felt that way, maybe she was giving you those vibes on purpose, you know? Sometimes girls are so forward that it's confusing. Like, ‘am I reading this wrong?’ When the whole time there was only one way to read it.” He gives his head a light shake.

“She was talkative like Yoongi predicted.”

“Oh, was she now?” Namjoon looks surprised. “I sided with Jimin when he said she seemed shy and kind of mean. Not mean, but you know the mean look girls have that makes them look kind of cool?”

Jungkook nods with a mouthful of steak.

“That’s actually interesting that she was talkative. That’s good. I think you’d do bad to get with a shy chick again.”

Jungkook once dated a girl in high school he didn't know how to talk to, and when he meant to break things off, he’d just ignored her for the entire year. She was too shy, too quiet, too reserved. He was everything else but.

“I agree with you on that,” Jungkook says honestly. “Back to Rei, she’s even prettier up close, hyung. I thought I was in a dream, that sounds so cheesy, but it’s true.”

“It was, what, four in the morning?”

“Three. Close to four.”

“Exactly. I would think that's a dream too. Seems like it. Are you sure you’re not messing with me?” Namjoon elbows Jungkook lightly.

“I want her. Is that so pathetic?”

“A little bit,” Namjoon teases, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to a slight pinch. “Like this tiny little space right here is where you live.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he walks into the kitchen for a beer.

“Honestly, Jungkook, I think she likes you back. Pass me the rice. Want some of the steaks?” He shows Jungkook his bowl, and Jungkook accepts, opening his mouth to be fed. “You can feed yourself.”

“Ah,” Jungkook says, mouth agape. “Just one piece.”

Namjoon is feeding Jungkook rice when the doorbell rings. The two exchange bewildered looks, and Jungkook shuffles from the ground, sliding on the flooring with his socks as he peers through the peephole. He falls to the ground as if shot, crouching with a deathly look about him.

Namjoon shifts in his seat on the floor and, stretching his neck, asks Jungkook who it is. Over and over, quietly, he’s asking who’s at the door.

Jungkook doesn't answer until Namjoon stands. He shoots a hand up to grab Namjoon’s sleeve, motioning him to crouch beside him. Whispering, he says, “It’s Rei; what do I do?”

“Get up!”

“I can't. I can't. I don't know what she wants. What if she knows?”

“Knows what? Get up; I’m opening the door in 3, 2,...”

Jungkook stands. He can feel his heart beating viciously, and his hands are sweating. He glares at Namjoon, raising his hand and motioning for a cutthroat. “I’ll kill you,” he mouths as his friend walks away.

Jungkook peers into the peephole and sees her turning away. He pulls back the door quickly, causing her to turn around. She smiles, and he wants her all over again. His relaxed demeanor vanished. “Hey, what’s going on?” are his first words.

Rei laughs, and he can feel himself blushing. He drops his head when he remembers Namjoon is a witness.

“Hey, neighbor,” she says, smiling the same coy smile she lent him last night. She pulls a paper from her pocket, extends it to him, and says, “It’s an invite to my birthday party this weekend; if you don't have any plans, I thought it would be nice to hang out and see you again. I’ll have friends over, and of course, you can bring yours.”

A party? Wait, see me again?? “I will be there. This weekend. I’ll make an appearance.” He stops talking when she laughs. He can feel the blood boiling on his face. What the hell is going on with him? “Sorry, yes, I mean, thank you.” Jungkook can feel Namjoon’s burning gaze behind him—he can picture how his friend stifles a laugh into his fist.

“No problem. Who’s that?” She points inside the apartment.

Namjoon waves when Jungkook turns around to see him standing behind him, a smirk tugging at his lips. Jungkook widens his eyes at him, mouthing for him to stop laughing. Stepping aside for his friend’s introduction, Jungkook signals toward his friend with a swift movement of his hand. “Namjoon, this is Rei. Rei, this is Namjoon, a good friend and gifter of bonsai trees.”

“I’ve seen you, no?” she talks to Namjoon, who nods, flexing his pointer finger, indicating that she has. He’s chewing cheese puffs, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow at him, silently questioning him: ‘Where did you get those?’ His stare says.

“At the evacuation, I was there.”

“Ah, yes, you had bright green hair like a highlighter pen then.”

He laughs. “That was me, yeah! You were with that girl, the…one with the red hair in pigtails.”

“Ah. That’s right! You have a good memory.” She sounds impressed.

Jungkook tongues his cheek, shaking his head beside them unnoticed.

“You too, you too. Cheese puff?” Namjoon offers a bag of cheese puffs.

“You’re tempting me, but I will have to decline. I just had lunch.”

“Your friend, the one with the pigtails, will she be at this party?”

Namjoon is nervous, but he plays it off well. Only Jungkook can tell.

“I think she can be there,” Rei replies, her eyes shifty and full lips pursing. She seems to think it over, anxiously looking at Jungkook and chewing on her lower lip. It’s as though she’s waiting for Jungkook to glance her way. Only Namjoon is seeing this.

Jungkook is annoyed. They’re talking so easily. He shifts uncomfortably, his fingers gripping the door. He watches how Namjoon chuckles and how she timidly looks down at her hands. The glittery nail polish made his heart feel like a stone in his chest. He wants to interject. But how?

“I’m sure the guys will be free this weekend too; we might celebrate our little accomplishment here sometime soon, so Jungkook can tell you about that and invite you when the time comes, right, Jungkook?”

Jungkook only nods. That’s all he seems to be capable of when she’s around. He feels so strange around her. He feels the same way each time, like he’s coming down with something suddenly. Didn’t it just get so hot out here with the door open like this? He wonders. Is anyone else sweating?

Their voices continue around him. He nods a few times when the conversation shifts toward him, but he feels lightheaded. He wants her so badly.

He doesn’t mean to, but he clears his throat, turning the conversation around him to a simmer.

“So, Jungkook, Namjoon told me he’d come this weekend and bring your other friends. There’s a theme, by the way.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “It’s fairytale-themed!” She raises her arms above her head like a big reveal and holds her pose, awaiting their reaction.

Namjoon laughs, turning away; he says: “I’ll give it good thought! Thank you for the invite, Rei!”

“And you?” She looks at Jungkook.

“Me?” Jungkook swallows hard at a lump in his throat. His brain seems to forget how to form sentences when she’s around.

“Yes, you. Do you have any ideas, JK?” she smiles, lopsided.

Is she flirting with me? Here? Namjoon-hyung! Come back!

“I have to rewatch all of my favorite fairytale movies to have an idea,” he says, bringing a hand to his head. He feels the heat emitting from his forehead. “I’m kidding. I think something cool like Dracula.”

“Is that a fairytale?” She laughs.

“Define a fairytale. Isn’t it just make-believe?”

“You don’t think vampires are real?” She raises an eyebrow at him, but he can tell she’s intentionally giving him a hard time. Her smile is surfacing and betraying her.

“I do, actually. Ah, okay. Give me time. I’ll think of something. What about you? Who are you going as?”

She pretends to think it over even though she already has an idea. “I won’t say; you’ll have to see.”

He’s fully leaning against the doorframe, his foot slipping under him, and he almost falls over. He mutters something to himself, and she’s biting back a laugh. “You want tea or something before you go? If you’re not busy.”

“Ah, I want to say yes, but my friends are upstairs; I just stopped by real quick but thank you.”

He nods. “That’s okay, next time.”

“I’ll catch you two later,” she says, waving.

She turns to walk away, and Jungkook doesn't know what takes over him, but he shouts after her: “Thank you!”

He’s too embarrassed to see if she turns around. He closes the door immediately.

He doesn't even want to look at Namjoon. He stands facing the door for a while, his head hanging low, eyebrows scrunched up in physical anguish. He chews his lip and winces at himself, remembering.

“I said that out loud,” Jungkook says, incredulous with himself.

“You said that out loud,” Namjoon reiterates from somewhere in the room.

Sighing, Jungkook turns over, and flinches at a grape Namjoon tosses at him. His nose scrunching, he catches another grape mid-air and chews noisily. “She wants to know me properly,” he says, with a dreamy air.

“So be her prince charming,” Namjoon jokes, plopping down on his couch, busy on his phone.

“So I will be,” Jungkook says, tilting his head back to look up at his ceiling. She’s up there, walking around, talking to her friends, and he’s beneath her, dreaming of the weekend. “What day is it?”

“Wednesday.”

“Let’s go; I need an outfit.”

“Now?”

“Now, get up! Get up!”

“Let me finish my grapes; I just washed them,” Namjoon whines, still not glancing from his phone’s screen.

“Okay, but after, we’ll go.” Jungkook walks into his room, grabs his glasses, and steps back out.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Jungkook nods, biting the corner of his lip distractedly. “Oh, I’m serious.” He reaches for the car keys on the table beside him. “I’ve never been more serious.”

And he is. He’s never been more serious about anything else. He wants Rei, but he wants her to want him, too. He can’t help but feel as though his luck is turning out.

taglist: @vsualitae​

A/N: thank you for being here! I hope those that looked forward to the full first chapter have enjoyed this! It's my first lengthy fic, as I've already stated, so any feedback is greatly appreciated! reblogs, comments, and anything that lets me know you've enjoyed this will make me the happiest writer :') I appreciate you for giving my work a shot <3 Let me know if you'd like a second part, what you liked, etc. I'd love to hear from you, reader >.< until next time!!

[strawbeerossi]

I seen that you write angst and I have an idea to share with you because of some personal things that I went through with my own family.

Do you think you can write something about fem!reader and Spencer finding out that one of their children has leukemia? Maybe with death involved to show how intricate this situation can affect families? I know it’s a very loaded topic so I completely understand if you don’t wanna do it but I think you’d master the topic beautifully based off of your angst writing. ❤️

I hope you’re doing alright today, Tay

First off, I’m so sorry for your loss, lovebug. I hope I do this justice and thank you for trusting me with this topic. My DMs are open if you ever need to talk. 🩵

And I'm good today, thank you, honey.

Vilomah: Bereaved Parents

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After their son succumbs to his illness, the Reid parents have to navigate the grieving process together along with the team who are there to help.

Content Warning: Child death, leukemia, details about a hospital stay, extreme grief after loss, a child’s funeral, parental grief, mentions struggles with eating, spousal argument, lots of tears, descriptions of feeling empty and depression, the team is there for the Reids, spousal comfort, hurt/comfort.

Word Count: 3.3K

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I cried like a baby writing this. I hope I captured what you were looking for anon.

“Memories saturate my heart and the story of you spills from my eyes.” – Grace Andren

There were many horrors that Spencer faced in his line of work; murderers, rapists, cannibals, the lot of it. He was also faced with grief more often than not, losing Maeve and Gideon being the two most notable times where he was forced to face the fact that everybody dies at some point, no matter who they are. 

That wasn’t enough to prepare him for the cruelest thing life had to throw at him. Benjamin was diagnosed with leukemia when he was just two months shy of four-years-old, more specifically it was Chronic Myeloid Leukemia. 

The first few months were seemingly okay. He was responding well with the treatment, his little body growing stronger with each passing day. There were plenty of ice cream days to celebrate whenever Ben could function as good as he could before the cancer. Not to mention all the gifts his aunt Penelope would send.

There was hope, so much hope that Y/N and Spencer didn’t let the thoughts of losing their son loom over their head.

That was until he got sick again, this time much worse. It happened suddenly, Ben went from eating some fruit snacks and watching a movie to losing consciousness and growing pale. Spencer never thought he could get home faster than what he did when he got the phone call. Emily sent him home immediately after hearing the news, telling him to get home to his family and that she would check in.

The next few weeks were spent in the hospital, the bright lights being harsh on the eyes of the sore eyes of the Reid parents. Y/N didn’t sleep but for a few hours a night, any small movement or sound from Ben or his machines waking her up. Spencer had grown to not sleep for that long, surviving off maybe an hour a night and ten cups of coffee to push forward the following morning.

However, the suffocating realization of the inevitable was starting to soak in. Spencer wanted nothing more than for his son to make a recovery but as a man of science, that hope dissipated as he noticed the signs. People got better before death, so whenever Ben was showing all the signs of surging, it was enough to kill Spencer.

Even after they had a conversation with their doctor, the woman telling them that surging typically happens one to two days before death, it was like Y/N wouldn’t take that. She would say that he was fine, that he was healing. 

It was denial. 

The day they lost him was the hardest of them all. The air was suffocating that morning, there being a bitter winter chill. Spencer had gone to work, as usual. There was a case, one about a man who was killing women who resembled his birth mother after she rejected him from her life. He was distracted, like any father on the verge of losing his child would be.

He knew he shouldn’t have gone to work but he was losing his mind, being overwhelmed with the knowledge of the inevitable. He liked to think that if he and Y/N didn’t discuss it, it wasn’t real. As a man of science, he knew the risks of believing something like that.

Still, he gave himself false hope. 

However, his heart stopped beating for a split second as he could feel his phone buzzing, the world freezing around him as he couldn’t hear the others around him. He knew what this call was. It took JJ shaking Spencer’s shoulders to snap him out of his thoughts. “I have to go.” 

Making it to the hospital, he dreaded going inside. However, he was running through the hospital doors not bothering to check in at the front desk as he was going as fast as his legs could carry him to reach his son’s hospital room. 

Judging by the heart wrenching screams of agony from his wife on the other side of the door, Spencer knew what to expect as his shaking hand was opening the hospital door. The sight of his wife cradling their son was enough to make him drop to his knees. 

The nurses and doctors looked at the small family, feeling the sting of heartache as they’d gotten to know the Reid’s over the past year.

Spencer’s legs were like jelly, the tears cascading his face being enough where he was sure he could fill up the hospital room in tears, enough to drown in. They were able to stay as long as they wanted to, even if it was hours later. 

“Do you have his blanket?” Y/N asked, voice raw from the screaming and uncontrollable sobbing from before. “I don’t want him to get cold..” She whispered, looking at their son who looked like he was sleeping against his father’s chest. “In the bag.” The words were shaky, the father keeping his son close while letting his forehead rest against Benjamin’s smaller one.

After they were laying the little boy down again, Y/N was slowly putting the blanket over the child before she was leaning down to kiss his forehead, which had begun to grow cold from the hours his parents took to say goodbye. The parents clung to one another as they were being forced to walk out of the hospital. 

After that, their life lost all its color. Waking up to an alarm rather than to a happy little boy jumping on their bed just wasn’t the same. There was no laughter in the house, no warmth. The atmosphere was just as cold as the weather outside. No matter how many days that Penelope came over with baskets filled with small goodies to try and lift their spirits, or how Luke would come by to check in and bring food over that the two parents just couldn’t stomach.

The day of the funeral was when every ounce of denial was fizzing away. Next came anger. Y/N was moving a bit slow, honestly not wanting to rush and be greeted with the sad looks of their friends and family. Spencer was ready twenty minutes prior, wanting to rush the grieving process and just accept everything immediately, even if it was impossible.

“Please hurry up.” His voice was laced with irritation, making wife look up from her shoes as she was playing with the strap. “I am hurrying..” She spoke softly, a frown on her face as she slowly got the shoes on. “You don’t have to have an attitude, by the way.” 

That was the start of something ugly.

“Well, you don’t have to take thirty years and expect Benji to walk through the door.” The words were deep cutting, very uncharacteristic of the loving man she married.The words had his wife stunned in place, her mouth falling open. “You don’t have to be an asshole and keep reminding me of where we are going.” She spat, moving to brush her hair back before standing.

“You can’t keep acting like things are going to change. He’s gone, Y/N. No matter how bad we want him back, we will never get him back.” They were growing angry at one another at the wrong time. Before the yelling could start, there was a soft knock on the door. With a soft sigh, Spencer was turning around and heading to the sound of the soft knocking. 

The sight behind the door was enough to make his heart clench. There was Derek, the man offering a sad smile. “Hey, kid. I came to pick you two up. How’s the missus doing?” He asked, chuckling as Spencer was rushing to tightly hug his best friend, his hand slowly patting the younger male’s back. “Hi Derek.” Y/N offered a weak smile once she was closing the bedroom door. 

“Hey mama.” His voice was soft and careful, heading over to wrap his arms around the woman before kissing her cheek. “I was thinking that after everything, we could all go out to lunch.” He wasn’t stupid, he could tell that the two parents were neglecting themselves, he’d talked to the team. 

This was a sensitive time, so he understood. However, he wasn’t going to sit idly by either. He’d be damned if he let them both slowly waste away. Benjamin sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted that. 

“I don’t know, Derek. I don’t think I can deal with everyone looking at us with pity. You know how many people have told me that they hugged their babies tighter because of this situation? It hurts. Not nearly as helpful as people think..” The woman spoke while slowly rubbing her face.

“It’ll just be us. The team, our family.” He attempted to coax both parents, the two not being able to get out of it in the end.

The three eventually made it to the graveyard where they were confronting the one thing that they didn’t want to face. The Reids were approaching the plot that they’d purchased for the family, Y/N having to collect herself at the sight of the coffin waiting by the open plot. 

“There you two are,” Penelope looked like she’d been sobbing already, her arms wrapping tightly around both parents. That was where the floodgates broke, both of them tightly clutching onto the blonde enough to suffocate her. 

The ceremony was beautiful, despite the flood of tears and pain deep in the chests of all that were closest to the child who they were laying to rest. It was something honorable, Benji even having his uncle Aaron there to say a final goodbye. Even surrounded by love, there was still an emptiness, a void that would never be filled. 

What came next made things worse, the parents having to say goodbye as soon as the casket was being lowered in its plot, Y/N and Spencer wrapped up in one another’s embrace while their hands were clutching each other’s clothing. The wife was letting her head rest against her husband’s shoulder, their tears soaking one another’s clothes and hair.

It was just them now, with the ghost of their sweet angel who would keep a watchful eye over his parents, whether they knew it or not.

Dave was approaching the parents, his hand resting on Spencer’s shoulder as he cleared his throat to catch their attention. “I want you both to know that I will be here for you both, always.” David Rossi, the father of the team, it seemed. As well as being uncle Dave to all the kids, Benji included. 

“I heard that you two agreed to come to lunch.” He spoke softly, eliciting a small smile from Y/N. “We are.” She said softly, truly unable to say no to him. “We are having it in my backyard. Why don’t you two ride with me?” He suggested, making both Spencer and his wife look at one another.

They weren't getting out of this, so they complied and followed behind David.

The only problem was that so many amazing things happened in that backyard, Benji’s baby shower being one of them.

“Baby Reid is getting so big,” JJ gushed, her hand on Y/N’s swollen bump as the woman laughed in content. “Isn’t he? He’s also been kicking the hell out of my ribs, I feel like he's punishing me.” Y/N joked.

Finding out that she was pregnant was the best thing that ever happened. Of course, there were jokes of Spencer and Y/N not even waiting a year after they got married before she was already pregnant.

It was funny, really. Spencer was highly convinced that the baby was conceived on the first week of their honeymoon, the two being a little too into that talk while they were in the middle of sex, the filthy words of her being swollen with his baby becoming literal.

Diana was thrilled the moment that she saw her son and his wife on one of their visits, the woman being more thrilled at the prospect of her little Spencer having a child of his own. She would say that she knew before they even told her. 

“Mothers always know, Spencer. We are animals, we can feel things.” Were her exact words, something that she said Y/N would understand one day.

“Bella!” David smiled, the term of endearment being a newer one that he used for Y/N after the pregnancy, something about how she looked gorgeous because she was glowing. It was sweet, she had to admit it. “Hi, David.” Y/N grinned, her arms wrapping around the older man in a hug before she was pulling away. “You and Penelope did a beautiful job, by the way!”

Almost as if she were summoned, the bubbly blonde was hurrying over to flash a smile. “There you are my gorgeous girl! How are you feeling?” She asked, her hand cautiously rubbing her baby bump once Y/N gave her the okay.

“I’m doing good, actually. This boy is gonna be the death of me though. I was craving dirt the other day.” Her nose crinkled. “Weirdness. However, this baby is a Reid so that’ll explain it better than anything else.” Penelope joked. 

“It’s actually more normal than you might think. One theory links pica cravings to iron deficiencies. Another theory suggests these cravings develop as an adaptive response to the way the immune system changes during pregnancy.” Spencer smiled while letting his arms wrap around his wife from behind, his lips pressing a kiss to her cheek before his hands were coming underneath the heavy bump, lifting it up gently to take some of the pain from his wife’s back.

It was enough to make the woman sigh of relief as her head was tilted back against his shoulder. “You are such a lifesaver.” She breathed while briefly closing her eyes. 

Spencer was attentive and loving, paying attention to her much more after the pregnancy was discovered.

This was a dream.

This was a nightmare, the memories rushing back to Y/N as she was walking into the backyard where all those sweet memories lived. It was emotionally draining, so much so that her hand was reaching aimlessly for Spencer’s.

As soon as her husband realized what she was doing, he was slowly approaching his wife and letting his hand tightly grip onto hers. He didn’t realize how bad they needed this, to have a reminder that they still had each other. He figured it was implied but this made a bit of weight lift off his chest. 

“I know it may be a bit hard to laugh right now,” Penelope began as she was offering a smile. “But I know how much Benji used to love having dinner with all of us, no matter where we went.” She began, making a soft, sad smile spreading across Y/N’s face. 

“So, I figured that I would honor one of my favorite godson’s in the best way possible. Instead of boring adult food, I made extra sure to get the best of the best.” Being a four-year-old, Benjamin was just as picky as the next kid. 

“Don’t tell me,” Spencer began, looking over as she was happily showing off the meal she had catered. It consisted of all the essential food groups of a young child; chicken nuggets, macaroni and cheese, and french fries. 

Hank, Michael, Henry, the Simmons children and Jack were all over the idea of that. The adults, though, couldn’t help the soft laughter. “Benji would definitely approve.” Y/N offered a soft smile, shaking her head fondly. “Even up until the end, he had to have his nuggets.” Spencer added, a few tears springing up in his eyes at the pleasant memory, even in the darkest time of their lives.

“I don’t want that..” Benjamin wrinkled his nose as he was pushing away the soup that the hospital was giving him, making Spencer look up from his book. “It’s good for you, Benji. Try it.” He urged on, a smile as he put the book down after finding his bookmark. 

“Daddy, no. It’s yucky. It smells yucky.” He continued on, the four year old running the spoon through the bowl.

Like his mother, he was dramatic about it, gagging at the mere thought of eating what he was given. “I want chicken nuggets.” He whined out, now looking at his mother, who was sighing in content. 

“Take a few bites and try it! If you try it and you don’t like it, I’ll go get you some nuggets. Sounds fair?” She asked, keeping the stern tone yet offering a sweet smile, knowing damn well that he’d get his way in the end anyway. Even if he liked the soup.

“I’ll try it but I might be sick, mama.” He warned, looking at the broth with vegetables before he was taking a good amount on the spoon.

He eyed it over before pushing it into his mouth. Both parents couldn’t help the laughter falling from their lips as Benji pulled a face, looking offended he was even made to try it.

“Blegh! Nasty!” The animated child was pushing the tray table away as Y/N was already getting up to grab her keys. “I’m going! I’m going! Make sure that you watch your daddy, you know he likes getting into too much trouble.” 

As everyone had a plate in front of them, everyone was looking at the Reids, expectant of them to get up. Derek was the one who was already making two plates before placing them down in front of the two. “There you are pretty boy and pretty girl, no need to get up.” He knew what he was doing.

Even with the lack of appetite, Y/N was slowly picking up her fork before collecting a bit of the mac and cheese on her fork, slowly moving to push the fork in her mouth. She didn’t realize just how hungry she was before that bite. Of course, barely eating for two weeks would do that to you.

Spencer seemed to be on the same page, the two unknowingly eating like they hadn’t eaten in years. The group said nothing about it, although they shared collective glances and their eyes were glistening over with relief. 

They were eating enough to actually keep themselves alive, to keep themselves from falling ill and being stuck in the hospital being fed through IVs. After all they went through, they didn’t need to be in another hospital for a long time.

The rest of the day was spent with their family rather than them being locked up at home, real smiles gracing their features for the first time in forever. Being together in a quiet home was taking a huge hit at their mental health. 

This was what they needed. Their full support system. 

It was later on in the evening before Y/N and Spencer had gotten home, the two ordering takeout for dinner whenever they arrived at home. The wife was looking over the picture of their family that she had hanging up in the kitchen, a soft smile on her face. He looked so peaceful today, didn’t he?” She asked, her voice soft.

“No more pain, no more weakness.. Just peaceful.” Spencer added on, looking up from his hands. “Y/N.. I’m sorry about what I said earlier. It was horrible to say,” He said as his wife was offering a gentle smile. “I understand. It’s hard right now but.. Spencer, I love you. With every fiber of my being. Please remember that.”

It was what he needed to hear, his head nodding. “I know. I love you so much, baby. Thank you. I’m here for you, even if you just need to cry and be taken care of.” The taller man was standing up before heading over to tightly hug his wife. “You’re so strong. So fucking strong.” He spoke softly while kissing the top of her head. 

All they needed to power through this together was each other, they would make it through this for Benji over all else. It was what he would've wanted , their love to persevere. 

[yourmomwhitediamond]

Could I please request Rosie with a girlfriend who has a seizure in the middle of tea time? I had one yesterday and hit my head on the counter. Thankfully, I didn't bite my tongue for once.

Of course. I'm so sorry you had one, I'm guessing it was a tonic-clonic. I hope you recover soon. Make sure to get lots of sleep. Sending you my love x

Since I don't know what your warning signs or symptoms are (if you get any) before a seizure I'll base the build-up to the seizure on mine. I'd also like to say I haven't gone into depth with the description of the seizure itself. Please let me know if you'd like me to rewrite it because of this.

Includes: epilepsy/tonic clonic seizure, cannibalism and slight mention of death.

Tea time with Rosie was going as wonderful as ever, gossiping over your meal of several limbs. The main focus of the conversation was Susan and how she was being as irritating as ever. Everything was going smoothly.

Then you paused in the middle of raising food to your mouth, the dreaded feeling of a seizure coming. For a second you waited and rapidly blinked your eyes, praying it was a false alarm that would pass, but it didn't. You couldn't focus on Rosie's voice or features. Everything started to morph and distort. Her words repeated over and over in your mind like deja vu. It was as if you were caught in a reoccurring nightmare every time. Tears already threatened to spill as you felt it growing worse by the second. Muttering 'no' under your breath repeatedly

Rosie went silent at the sound of your food clattering against the plate and your murmer,"Darling?"

You covered your ears, signalling her to be silent and scrunched your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to stop the tricks your eyes were playing on you. The feeling of your head swirling forced a whimper from your throat. You were terrified. Every seizure felt like it was the last moment of your life.

You didn't want this to happen. You never wanted it to.

You heard Rosie's steps echo in your head and then the sudden feeling of her hands on your shoulder that made you flinch. She knew physical contact was out of the question in moments like this, but you needed to be guided elsewhere before it got worse. There was no chance she would leave you in that seat where you could fall and hit your head. That had happened in the past, with your first seizure. Any further injury during the seizure would cause more pain, she wanted to avoid that at all costs.

She laid you on your left side and went off to grab something to put under your head. By the time she had returned your small focal seizure had escalated into a tonic clonic. Her heart ached at the sight. Rosie could never get used to this, and neither could you. When she had settled your head on the pillow she had gone to fetch she knelt beside you. That's all she could do. Sit and watch your body stiffen and your limbs jerk while your eyes roll back and your lips turn blue. She so desperately wanted to cradle you in her arms and whisper that all would be well as she ran her fingers through your hair.

Even when you woke she couldn't do that. She would have to wait until you had calmed and fallen asleep, unless your stomach decided otherwise. It was unlikely you'd be sick, but the chance of it happening wasn't zero.

When you did come around and come to terms with what happened tears pricked at your eyes. The migraine had already started to settle in at the back of your eyes and so had the pain of inner cheeks from the gnashing. Thankfully, not your tongue this time.

Then you forgot it all. Your mind went blank but Rosie knew what was coming.

"What happened?" You asked in a daze, lifting your head then feeling the aching in your body.

"You've had a seizure, my sweet"

Your head flopped back as Rosie's words sunk and that process repeated a couple more times. You'd stare off momentarily, forgetting everything that had occurred, ask Rosie what had happened, and have a little cry. This part would determine how much the seizure had affected you, and with how many times this action repeated she gathered it would take you some time to fully recover. Perhaps a day or two at the least.

Once everything slipped from your mind one last time and you fell asleep Rosie moved you. With a hand under your legs and the second behind your back, she carried you to the bedroom making sure your limp head rested on her shoulder.

Only you were set down safely on the bed did she change you into some nightwear, the most embarrassing process of the seizures in your opinion. Yes, Rosie is your girlfriend and she had seen your body before, but that didn't make it any less humiliating. She handled you as like fine china or a porcelain doll, despite knowing not a single noise or movement would wake you. She tucked you into bed moving the few stray strands of hair behind your ear and pressed her lips against your temple.

Despite not wanting to leave your side she had to go clear the table and fetch the pain relief medication you'd be needing in the morning. She was quick to do those things and return to you.

At first, she sat in a chair facing the bed, reading whilst she watched over you, but she later decided she couldn't let you lay there alone with no comfort, so she got herself ready for bed. There was no reason she couldn't get some shuteye beside you, it was neither late nor early, therefore the perfect time to settle down for the night.

With herself changed for sleeping and your medication and drink on the bedside table, she snuggled up to you. She was the big spoon, as per usual. Her arms found purchase around your stomach and her face buried into your neck. She sighed, relieved you were still with her, and shut her eyes to join you in sleep.

For anyone who doesn't understand the description I have given for the seizure. Most of the time there is a lot of teeth grinding (in tonic-clonic/grand mals), resulting in the person's tongue and inner cheeks being bitten (sometimes causing bleeding). Around the lips will go blue, but that doesn't mean they're choking (unless they aren't on their side), so don't put your fingers in their mouth otherwise you'll get yourself hurt. You shouldn't restrain the twitching/jerking, try to wake them, move them during the seizure (unless absolutely necessary) or give them any food and drink until they have fully come around. Always lay the person on their side, in the recovery position. If they get to the five minute mark call an ambulance. SUDEP isn't common but can happen (research says 1 in 1000 people with epilepsy will die). Seizures aren't just about flashing lights and body jerking. There are different triggers and so many more types of seizures, each are different in their own way. They are embarrassing for the person and rob them of their freedom and independence. Please do your research.

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Identity Pt 7

Part (7) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Yuh know... there are chapters that are just so much harder to write because I elected to keep Doc unnamed... I'm standing by that decision, but that doesn't mean I won't bitch about it on occasion

Warnings: Flashbacks/PTSD, description of torture, loads of angst, reference to gore, profanity, self-deprecating thoughts

WC: 3,926

“So much for keeping that squad of yours off my back.”

He’d already removed his helmet before I’d entered, yet my gaze still settled blindly on the dark transparasteel shielded beneath the extended ridge of his visor, attention absently noting how clearly the burnt orange reflected atop the polished surface of his pale desk, and I found myself remembering the immaculate attire boasted by those at the gala, how carefully the droids had been prepared for display, void of even a scuff of dust, yet Cody had made no effort to hide the marks left upon him by war.

So much of that brilliant orange had been worn and chipped away that the rays of light adorning his chestplate were nearly unrecognizable absent the memory of how clearly they once shone. Even the base white yielded to the grey of raw composite below from constant wear and abuse. He could have it repainted or replaced, could elect for a separate set entirely to keep pristine for these moments between battles, but he stood before me with no thought wasted toward such excess. He’d earned every scar carved into flesh and armor alike, and he wore them with neither pride nor shame but with the simple acceptance that they were a part of him.

My chest hitched at the belated realization that he’d spoken, that I’d been silent long enough to prompt him to call my name with a hesitant concern, brows drawing slightly together as his head ducked slightly to study me with eyes that I knew had seen the death of thousands of brothers yet still held such kindness. I gave a quick nod, tongue slipping over my lips in preparation for a response I hadn’t yet thought of.

“I think Wolffe has more to worry about from them than you do.” I offered, body shifting back to attention as though it might make up for how heavily my voice fell in something far closer to a mutter than a proper reply. Drawing in a quick breath, I tried to force some composure over myself, determined to dispel the commander’s worries.

“The initial stage of the mission went smoothly – I met with the contact and acquired the datachip, and reported a significant portion of the Separatist defenses to Commander Wolffe through the comm in the bracelet.” Cody didn’t move as I spoke, arms relaxed at his sides, gaze still focused on me, and I found myself wondering if he was searching for any sign that I’d been compromised; that I was damaged beyond further use to the GAR and unfit to return to my unit, and that thought was enough to send my heart racing, nerves lighting with fresh anxiety until my fingers tensed with the need to fidget.

“You’re not on trial here.” He murmured suddenly, and I froze, unsure if I felt caught – trapped – or if I could allow myself a taste of comfort offered in the gentleness of his voice, the softness of his eyes. Still, I cursed the way my breath threatened to shake. “I’ve seen soldiers with more years on the battlefield than you break from that kind of torture… It’s okay to struggle with what happened.” I wanted to turn away, to hide from everything he saw when he looked at me in that moment, and I was almost shocked at the anger that warmed my chest, unsure if it stemmed from some want to prove him wrong or simply from needing to prove to myself that it hadn’t broken me.

“I appreciate that, Commander. All the same…” I knew he gleaned no reassurance from the mediated determination forced into words spoken with far more strength than I felt, but pushed myself to continue regardless. “After the exchange, I continued patrolling. A woman took notice of me.” My lips twitched into the beginnings of a scowl at my ignorance in that moment but refused to let myself stop. “I’m afraid I never got her name, but I later learned that she was the one who orchestrated the gala; that she… handpicked each of the members in attendance.” I knew Wolffe’s report would have detailed all of this; that nothing I’d told him offered new insight, but such was the nature of debriefing: hearing the same story told from different mouths in search of any sign variation, for the smallest detail that might have only been noticed by accident in the hopes that it could reveal something profound.

“She asked me to dance. I attempted to decline but came to the conclusion that doing so might draw too much attention. Afterwards, the speaker was introduced – the same woman who’d approached me. She insisted I accompany her to the podium, which I now understand was her way of keeping me from leaving. Her speech had barely started when an explosion blew out the back wall.” The scent of ozone and burnt hair lingered beneath the subtle staleness of the ship’s recycled air.

“I understand you sustained some injuries from that explosion.” He prompted after a moment’s pause, and I gave another quick nod.

“Suspected concussion, some burns and bruises.” The brief, itemized response left me absent any emotion, thoughts sifting through the snips I could only barely remember; bodies undoubtedly void of life beside those vying to escape still burning debris; screams reverberating throughout a ceiling designed to echo music not the sounds of agony filling that elaborate hall. “Maybe a dozen guards surrounded the speaker. I couldn’t see her status, but she must have been alert enough to talk. One of them approached me. I was too disoriented to move, and they sedated me.”

I didn’t notice that he’d moved until he called my name, eyes flicking back up to find him now seated in the chair behind his desk, and part of me recognized exactly what he was doing; wanted to snap at him for thinking I needed such a rote example of physical de-escalation, shout my insult at his hope that some ancient part of my brain would recognize his laxed stance and find enough comfort in it that I might mimic him, but I could feel how quickly my heart raced, noted the stiff movement of my chest around too-shallow breaths, and I knew why he’d felt the need to try.

My gaze dropped to the chair beside me, hand hesitantly shifting to rest atop the pale plastoid. I imagined myself pulling it out enough to slip into the seat, thought of what posture might be most appropriate when finding oneself across from one of the highest ranking members of the GAR, and then I remembered how my body had strained against the reclined seat in that filthy cell, robbed of leverage and hope and autonomy, and I quietly let my hand return to my side.

“I’m not sure how long I was unconscious.” I continued as though nothing had happened, pointedly forcing my attention back to him. “I was restrained when I woke up. A man was already attempting to interrogate me. I-” My voice caught, jaw freezing at the memory of his callused fingers gripping me hard enough for the bone to ache. Breath fleeing lightly parted lips in a huff, I couldn’t keep myself from turning away once more, studying walls not tarnished with dirt and blood and all manner of nightmares.

“He wanted to know who was responsible for the explosion, then asked general things about me: my name, where I’m from.”

“What did you tell him?” I didn’t even try to look at him again, though I couldn’t dismiss my reluctant gratitude at how quietly he spoke, how free his voice was of any judgement or disappointment. My head shook before I could form an actual answer.

“I didn’t… I didn’t say anything.” The words felt weird as they dragged up my throat, as though my body was going through the motions of speech before my mind could anticipate the sensation of anything other than the burn of frigid water. “Then he put a cloth over my head.” I didn’t want to hear it. “Turned on a… spigot or… I don’t know – I couldn’t see where the water came from.” But my lips kept moving despite how my chest threatened to lock around what precious air filled my lungs. “He didn’t… It wouldn’t stop.” I remembered not being able to tell up from down as that icy liquid poured over me, remembered that first rush of true panic.

Again, Cody called my name, but that earlier softness was gone, replaced with something firmer, commanding, and it was just enough to rip my attention away from the deafening sound of crashing water. He wasn’t sitting anymore, stance rigid, hand clasped about the corner of his desk as though he’d paused midway to me.

“I want you to take a slow breath and tell me where we are.” He ordered, and only then did I realize how quickly my diaphragm bucked with rushed gasps. Shame sent heat up my neck and across my cheeks as I caught my lip between my teeth in an effort to force some control back over myself. Still, it took several seconds before I could bring myself to speak, breathing only just quieting.

“The Negotiator.” I answered roughly, unable to hide the annoyance in my voice, the disdain for my own weakness, but he drew no attention to either as he visibly eased the tension from his stance.

“Good.” There was no trace of condescension in that murmured word, and something about that left me feeling even more defeated, shoulders innately trying to tuck into my chest. “We’ll stop there for now. Take a day. Tend your injuries. We can finish this later.” My teeth ground against the violent rebuke sitting atop my tongue, mind balking at the thought of delaying this, of trying to walk away with that impending conversation looming over me.

“I’m fine. We can finish this now.” I stated firmly, expression pinched into something I hoped illustrated my determination rather than my fear. He didn’t respond for several, long seconds, but finally yielded with a slow exhale before motioning me to continue. I had to swallow back the stiffness in my throat, resettle the weight between my feet to convince my back to straighten.

“I was rendered unconscious.” Empty words, carefully void of all trace of emotion lest they cripple me. “The cloth was still over my eyes when I came to. The man immediately attempted to question me again – asking my name, who I worked with.” My head flinched at the ghost of water droplets hitting my forehead. “He repeatedly demanded I tell him who ordered the attack and who the primary target was.”

“Did you tell him about Commander Wolffe’s presence there?” Again, his voice fell into a gentle whisper, tiptoeing around the edge of pushing me too far, and part of me tried to remember that I should have rebelled against being coddled like that, but I merely shook my head in reply. “What did you tell him?” He asked softly. Something shouted at me to remain silent – to say nothing lest I reveal everything.

“I don’t know.” I muttered, faltering thoughts straining to remember who I was speaking with despite the rancid scent of filth filling the room that was somehow too light and too dark at the same time. “I… I said I didn’t know.” I clarified, neck seizing as I tried to swallow against the sudden dryness of my mouth. “And he’d… every time I did, he’d…” I choked around an attempt to clear my throat, eyelids straining to blink away the memory of that black fabric trapping me in utter darkness. “He’d pull the mask back down and… he’d wait until I was just about to pass out before turning the water off.” Something about my voice sounded wrong… drawn too thin… like my lungs were being stretched, squeezed.

“Did you tell him anything about the GAR’s involvement? Or the contact you were sent to meet with?” Again, I merely shook my head, unsure if my eyes were closed or if I’d feel that harsh fabric upon drawing my fingers over my face, and the sensation of cloth against my skin ruined me.

In an instant, my torso curled forward, hand clawing at my hair to rip away that wretched sack, my other arm thrashing against whatever held it trapped to my chest in sharp, desperate jerks that sent agony tearing through the joint. I couldn’t understand that the cloth I’d felt was from my own glove, that my arm was held fast by a split rather than those cruel restraints; that the frigid liquid soaking into my blacks was sweat as panic ripped all memory of thought from my mind.

The depth of familiarity that should have accompanied the voice echoing around me was muted beneath how violently my heart slammed against my ribs, the wheezed keening of frantic breaths stolen in what little time I knew lingered before that putrid water would again fill my lungs.

Something touched my arm, and my body reacted in a feral rush of terror, legs snapping out to launch myself away with enough force to nearly rip that coveted air from me at the powerful impact of my back slamming into the wall, and still I felt myself straining to escape, to vanish, feet pressing into the front of my boots until my toes ached.

“…otiator… safe…” Snips of words that held no meaning echoed amidst demands screaming from the shadows, questions I couldn’t answer laced between an icy guilt of knowing I was no better than the man torturing me.

“…eed you t…”

I couldn’t tell who was screaming, stomach churning at the scent of flesh burnt by blaster fire and explosions, and I sobbed at the knowledge that nothing I could do would get the bleeding to stop in time, that I deserved the hatred in his eyes in that first moment that understanding dawned on him even as his life slipped through my fingers.

“…member where… not…”

The shriek of my pistol morphed into his cries, and I realized I’d never bothered to note where his fingers had fallen, only felt the relief of watching him tumble closer and closer to breaking, to telling me what I needed to know, and I felt sickened at the certainty that the man in that cell had felt that same exhilaration granted by what self-deception promised us that fault lie only with the one refusing to answer our questions… how easy it was to believe that our cruelty was justified…

My body shied from a touch I should have known without thought, deaf to gentle words and blind to the concern darkening eyes I’d found comfort in so many times before. In that moment, however, I couldn’t remember the safety once so inherent to his presence, nerves screaming with a terror I had no hope of freeing myself from. He didn’t shy in the face of my panic, touch following me with a quiet persistence untainted by the impatient indifference that had left my jaw bruised and tugged so roughly at the sack clinging to my face between shouted questions, and, for that reason only, I found myself hesitating.

Trembling violently against a chill that no longer sank into my bones from fabric left soaked by hours of torture, I found myself again trying to find something beyond the memory of that almost perfect darkness, wide eyes darting all around for some glimpse of a reality that was lost to me.

“…d… don’t kn… I… I don’t know…” Was that my voice?

“Shh, just look at me, Doc.” Something swept carefully along the ridge of my cheekbone, and I felt myself flinch sharply away even as my mind longed to cling to the tenderness of that touch.

“N… I-I d…” Ruined, broken fragments of pleading words that I knew would bring me no relief stammered from lips shaking too violently to attempt real speech. Someone called my name, and I felt myself sob at the fleeting warmth laced through a smoky voice I so desperately wanted to remember.

“Just look at me, cyare… I’m right here…” I could feel the heat of his words washing over my cheek. There was no lingering stench of stale beer nor rancid sweat, no overwhelming taste of copper from old blood, and that didn’t make sense amidst the certainty of what nightmares engulfed me. “Good… that’s good…” He murmured, fingers shifting ever so slightly through my hair, and I couldn’t fight the shiver that swept down my spine. “I want you to try to breathe with me, Doc… nice and slow…” Was I looking at him? I couldn’t tell. My head swam, vision too blurry to make out more than churning colors… but… even that was different, brighter than the devouring darkness that had robbed me of all sense of self.

I vaguely understood that I was still pinning myself against the wall, fingers tangled into my hair as though it might keep that mask from blinding me again, that I’d slid down so far as to nearly be curled in a ball against the corner; that the man speaking so gently to me had lowered himself onto a knee at my side, callused hands delicate in how he cradled my face between them, how he wordlessly wiped away the line of tears falling from my eyes, and I somehow noted the slow rise of shoulders broadened by that familiar, dark armor illustrating his own mediated breaths.

“Come on, Doc… breathe.” It wasn’t a command. He was begging me. There was a whisper of logic reminding me of the dangers of hyperventilating – the way that imbalance of oxygen and carbon dioxide impairs cognitive function, how it increases blood pH and causes systemic upheaval; remembered that he could hear how quickly my heart was racing, smell the adrenaline flooding my veins. My hand tentatively shifted, fingertips just skimming the thick tendons lining his wrist, and I saw how quickly he stilled at my touch.

“H… Hunter?” I could barely whisper his name, only then realizing my eyes had locked onto his, and the way his body sank with a relief that should have left me ashamed only worked to further drive away dreams that I knew would haunt me for years to come. In that moment, though, I allowed myself to focus only on the man before me as his hand trailed lightly through my hair.

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s me.” He sighed, shifting his weight thoughtlessly in silent invitation, and I needed no further incentive, feet scrambling even as my legs folded uselessly beneath me, hand abandoning his wrist in favor of darting toward him for my arm to lock around the back of his neck in an effort to drag me closer. He didn’t hesitate, embrace instantly drawing me flush against his chest, and I sobbed at the familiar earthiness of his scent.

“I’ve got you, cyare… I’ve got you.” Another shiver tore through me at the warmth of his words fluttering atop my scalp, and I pressed myself harder against him because of it, the hand still trapped by that splint latching uselessly about the lip of his armor. “Alright… Just breathe, Doc… You’re alright…” How could I not melt into his touch at the softness in his voice, air fleeing me in a shuttered huff before forcing some steadiness into the next inhale, if only to hear the quiet “Good” whisper past his lips once more.

He made no effort to rush me as that panic gradually quelled, moving only to ease me closer against him as he leaned back to unfurl his leg, and I tried to ignore the static prickling up my own legs at nerves reawakened by the subtle change. I wondered if he was listening to the gradual slowing of my heart, if he was torn between the want to ask endless questions I was too frightened to answer or if he was too busy pushing back plumes of anger that the mission had clearly gone so wrong, forcing him to pick up the pieces… and then I felt that shame.

Body tensing, I couldn’t help but pull away from him slightly, head falling to my chest as my teeth burred into my lip. I could see his attention shift, gaze studying me expectantly though he kept purposefully silent. Cheeks warming as understanding finally dawned on me, as I realized just how deeply I’d broken and where, I stole only a quick glance around us, half expecting to find Cody watching with arms crossed about his chest and a knowing darkness in his eyes, but I saw no one else in the room.

“Cody’s outside with Wolffe.” Hunter explained quietly, and my brows drew together in confusion.

“Wolffe?” I asked, voice still too unsteady to keep from breaking.

“Cody called us both. I just got here first.” He explained, thumb absently dancing against my back. I took a moment to make sense of his words before a tiny huff of laughter escaped me, and my arms instantly tightened around him once more, but this time the gesture was driven by an affection I couldn’t bring myself to try to explain. I knew how far away the hanger was; could guess how much time had passed since I’d said my farewells to my old Commander, and I didn’t doubt just how hard Hunter had pushed himself if he reached me before Wolffe could.

At that, he paused slightly before returning the embrace. While that brief note of mirth was a desperately needed reprieve, it quickly ceded in light of the still wretched truth evident in the very need that had brought him so swiftly to me. I’d crumbled beneath the weight of all the horrors I’d done in those past weeks, beneath the horrors that had been done to me. There was no hiding from that truth; no means of denying the display of devastation and fear that had overcome me in front of the damn Marshall Commander himself… and a new fear brought back the ghostly chill that was so eager to whisper through my chest.

“Is… is Cody going to…” I couldn’t finish, my tentative grasp on control already threatening to cave at the mere thought of being discharged from the GAR because of this. It took him a moment to understand what I was asking, but then he answered me absent hesitation or doubt.

“No.” He leaned back just enough to meet my eyes, hand cupping the back of my head to keep my gaze turned toward him that I might see the conviction fueling his words. “He knows things have been… hard lately… and then this… but he’s leaving that decision up to me, and I’m not ready to let you go yet… Not unless that’s what you want.” He added, head ducking down slightly in an unspoken question. Unable to even try to respond, I quickly shook my head, overwhelmed by a relief I hadn’t begun to let myself hope for. He let out a carefully slowed breath before pulling me against him once more, and I finally managed to feel the stretch of air filling my lungs, the warmth of a safety somehow still untouched by a lifetime of terror, and I knew I would never be able to find the words to tell him just how much he meant to me, how desperately I needed him, so I merely hugged him harder.

Next Chapter

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[penofpenguin]

Here's a kinda dark and confusing request:

How would Adeuce, Leona, and Jamil react to their fem s/o revealing that she was an orphan who was used as a test subject for experiments before escaping to become an undercover assassin?

Absolutely!! I didn't know if you wanted Adeuce together or not so I wrote them separately. You can read it as a throuple tho, just seperated by banners :)

Content Warnings: Themes of death, Mentions of human testing, Ace being inconsiderate at first.

Their s/o is an orphan who was used as a test subject, then escaped to become an undercover assassin.

Ace x F!Reader, Deuce x F!Reader, Leona x F!Reader, Jamil x F! Reader

"Ok...so Ace...I need to tell you something."

"Huh?"

And so, you told him your crippling dark past. HE'D. ASK. SO. MANY. QUESTIONS.

"Wait wait...how did you end up in the lab?"

"What chemicals did they put in you?"

"Is this why you're so crazy in love with me?"

"How did you escape again. No, you know what, start again I lost track."

He really doesn't mean to hurt you but Ace is inconsiderate and can't read the mood.

But in the end, he'd actually understand it all. He may be a bit scared that you were an assassin but you are his s/o, and he still loves you.

Once you're done, he holds your hand and just looks away. Like hell he'll completely show you his soft side.

"You sure went through alot. Come here and maybe you'll feel better," (its his way of asking for a hug)

Once you hug him...trust me you'll feel so much better. He gives you a comforting hug and simply coddles you in his arms, letting you know you're safe.

Will he show you his almost teary and sad face in front of you? No. He won't let go of you until his tears are gone and you're feeling better.

Ace isn't the best at comfort, but he'll do his best. He'll buy you something from the canteen or do something else to make you a bit more happier.

But if it isn't comfort that you were looking for, and just wanted to let him know since you trust him enough, he'll let go of you in an instant and ask you if you're for real rn.

Here comes a bunch of butterfly kisses because he's genuinely happy you trusted him enough. (also because he thinks you're so cool) :)

he may still be a tad bit intimidated by the fact that you killed people but it's nothing compared to floyd am i right

"Hey...you're ok right? Is something on your mind?"

Blue egg boy should be focusing on his homework but he couldn't help but look at you in worry. YOU'RE HIS S/O.

So you tell him. Good decision! He listens carefully and is actually sympathetic at sight, unlike Ace.

During the test subject part, he starts crying. HE STARTS CRYING. ITS NOT EVEN HIS PAST.

But seeing his beloved s/o go through that much hurt him. He cries. YOU need to comfort him, not the opposite way 😭

But once you tell him you're an assassin, he freezes.

More than Ace, Deuce is more intimidated. He needs to let it sink in. Ofc he doesn't hate you, but he's genuinely scared. Those lovely hands helping him with homework killed people???

However, after putting himself in your shoes, he finally continues feeling deeply sorry for you. You had to survive and it's not your fault.

He kisses you and tells you he loves you no matter what. Holds you close to let you know you're protected and nobody could ever hurt you like that.......his magic history homework on the table....forgotten

Deuce starts growing this huge rage for those people who used you as a test subject. He draws them (based off of your description) with a crayon on a piece of paper and rips it apart.

until somebody comes into that room and is confused asf.

"Leona...I think I should tell you this."

snore

Oh you thought he'd be listening? Shake him and tell him it's serious. It works 👍

"You're lucky you're my queen."

We all know Leona respects women. He's listening.

Once you tell him everything, Leona just quietly nods throughout your tragic backstory. However, his tail does loosely wrap itself around you, as a sign of comfort.

Leona's mature unlike the previous two walnuts. He knows it's hard for you to tell him this. It would be hard for anyone.

He doesn't bat an eye, all the way until you're done.

Once you do finish, he pulls you into his embrace and you two lay down on the matress you were sitting on.

"I'm here. I won't let anybody harm you."

Leona is surprisingly not bad at comfort. He's one to rather give advice, but what advice can he give here apart from telling you to move on and look towards the future? (with him *wink wink*)

Leona's very intrigued by the fact that you're an undercover assassin. He sees you as a confident girlboss and he really likes that. In fact, it may as well made him like you even more.

Additionally, he actually predicted a tragic backstory, simply by your actions. It's a very 'Leona' thing to do, considering the fact that he's observant.

He reassures you multiple times that you're safer and you're in better hands now (literally).

Leona may not understand your pain, but he's very willing to help you get over it, even if he may not express it.

"Are you alright?"

Another very observant man. He noticed your expression as soon as he entered the room and it worried him.

When it comes to you, Jamil cares alot. So, once you told him to take a seat and that you trust him enough to say this, he makes sure to put every distraction away.

If Kalim getting in the middle is a concern, don't worry, he already locked Kalim in Kalim's room with a bunch of food and music.

While you're undergoing the process of telling him everything, he holds you tightly, holding you tighter at any major critical points of your past.

He listens carefully and clearly. No he doesn't care that people died because of you. You didn't choose this and you had no choice.

Once you're done, he asks you if you want to eat anything or if there's anything he can do to calm you down and cool your thoughts.

He's good at comfort, since he's done it for Kalim.

Cooks something for you, even if you insist on not troubling him. The arab urge to make sure your loved ones are fed properly 😭

Man praises you on how brave you were to deal with all that.

Jamil may seem very calm on the outside, but on the inside, he's mixed with emotions. Sadness on how you were treated, and anger in those scientists who used you as a lab rat.

Once you're out of sight, he stabs a random vegetable or the chopping board in anger.

To lighten the mood, he jokes around lightly, saying that Kalim would cry and yell "jamilll" in your situation.

Don't be so mean to Kalim, Jamil >:(

Jamil would notice some changes in your behavior towards him, seeing you two are more closer perhaps. It genuinely makes him happy that you don't see him as a shadow to Kalim.

He's glad that you told him, 1. you're his s/o and 2. he's considered more special than kalim since he knows a trusted secret kalim doesn't.

I hope this was ok!! I'm brushing up on my writing skills since it's been a while so sorry if this is weird :')

Hope you enjoyed!! Have a nice day 💖

- Madeline 🐧

[bomberqueen17]

switchplate covers update/tutorial

So the thing to keep in mind with this is that we gotta see how well the wear. A switchplate cover is a pretty high-traffic thing, and subject to a lot of wear. If these get too dingy I'm absolutely going to have to go buy fancy ceramic ones or something.

But. That said. Here is my final result, and below the cut is how I did this, partly because I want to remember how it worked LOL.

[Image description: A combo lightswitch/outlet with a black three-prong plug plugged into it, set into a white subway tile wall with a wooden breadboard leaned against it. The plate cover is painted with a mottled effect to look like a turquoise gemstone, complete with inset glitter to mimic the pyrite inclusions found in some raw turquoise.]

A better view of the glitter:

[Image description: Another turquoise-painted outlet faceplate on the background of a rumpled white dropcloth, my fingers visible tilting it toward the light so the flake glitter catches the light from the window.]

So I searched up for tutorials and found a few, each of which was like "can't believe nobody else has done this"; I'm sharing the most helpful one here. What was thee very most helpful thing, though, was the writer's pointing out that many different configurations of turquoise exist, so you can just pick a reference image and build off that. I did not in the end come very close to my reference, but decided instead to make it look sick as hell. LOL. I was just having too much fun doing whatever I wanted. So these are not super realistic! But then you wouldn't... make an outlet faceplate out of real turquoise, so I felt like I wasn't fooling anyone. Anyway--

How To Paint Faux Turquoise.

So the first thing I did was find some very fine-grit sandpaper (I think I got 320? I found a mostly used-up sheet of it in the basement and just used the unused edge from where it had been fastened around a block, LOL) and went over the whole front surface of each plate I was going to paint, and then I washed them with dishsoap and hot water and dried them with a dish towel, because I figured finger grease, hand dirt, and sanding dust would keep the paint from sticking. I started with white plastic ones, the kind you get for up to a dollar at the hardware store.

Then I got a plastic container lid, put dollops of various of my paint samples in it, dug out the craft paints I got cleaning out Auntie's basement and the sole tube of acrylics (Mars black) I could still find from the last time I did any painting, and went to town. The first couple, I did the pale shades and let them dry and came back to add the darker marbling. But then I was like, these are latex/acrylic, you don't have to build them in layers? So I just did the rest of them with all the shading in more or less one pass.

Acrylic art paint and latex housepaint are both water-based, so there's no conflict with using them intermingled. I've combined them before, I used to do a lot of sign painting and it works fine. Housepaint's runnier, idk. Don't mix oils and latex, is the thing to keep in mind; they just don't stick to each other real well.

I went to the art supply store to get some water-based varnish, because all i had was polyurethane and that's oil-based. It'd probably work as a topcoat but I was worried and the internet's advice conflicted. I wanted to go get better glitter anyway, so I did. I happen to live near Hyatt's All Things Creative, so I take every excuse I can get to go there.

I bought some sick-ass glitter (over in the resin pouring section, hell yes), and puzzled thru the various offerings. (@sassaffrassa's advice proved invaluable on this thank u.) I got just-- "Gloss varnish acrylic medium", the Hyatt's brand, for four dollars and sixty-nine (nice) cents, and then because I was feeling spendy, I also bought Krylon spray-on glossy varnish. Belt and suspenders, y'know? Also to make the brush strokes less obvious.

The critical thing, though, about the gloss varnish, is that it says right on the bottle that you can either incorporate it into the paint as a medium to enhance the sheen, OR brush it over the finished work as a protective coating. Dries absolutely clear. So I knew, THIS is how I'm attaching the glitter. I'd been thinking like, mod podge? elmer's glue? mix it into the paint? No.

[image description: the gloss varnish bottle. It is this product. The relevant text says "can be used either as a medium to enhance the sheen levels of acrylic paint or as an over-varnish on finished artwork to provide a non-tacky, protective gloss coating".]

So I carefully got open the little bottle of glitter (no sneezing! it was "white gold flake" style and cost eight bucks for like half a gram. to my knowledge it's not actually made of gold but it was priced like it was) and painted little fine patches of gloss varnish onto the spots I wanted glittered, and then used tweezers to apply glitter just in those spots, and mooshed them around with the little varnish-covered brush until they stuck where I wanted them. (I put them on the darkest bits of the veining, because that was what my source image looked like, mostly. I wanted to be really liberal but then I thought, no, a little pop of glitter is more exciting actually. Still not sure, but it does look good so. They say measure that shit with your heart but I went light because I figured I could add more later, and then I didn't.)

Then I came back at the end and painted more gloss varnish just over the glitter, just to make sure it was all really stuck down and wouldn't flake off with wear.

Let that dry for a couple hours, then used a larger brush to spread gloss varnish as evenly as possible over the entirety of each plate. It did leave visible brush strokes, which I didn't mind. The art shop guy suggested using a really soft brush to minimize that, and I was like "yah sure ok" but then, well, I didn't, I just used the brush I had.)

But then I let that dry overnight, and in the morning I put the plates all in my giant overspray cardboard box, and gave them each a liberal coating of the spray varnish. (Yes of course I have a giant cardboard box I keep in my basement to spray paint things in. I know it says use in a well-ventilated space but what I do, see, is I do that and then I leave the room, which is almost as good. LOL it's 24F and snowing I'm not doing it outside.)

That bottle says two hours until handling on it, so I left it two hours, and then I put up the plates that were in spots where the painting was done or wasn't happening, hence my example image being against a tiled wall.

The screwdriver immediately scratched the first one a little bit, but not super obviously. But I kind of would expect a screwdriver to scratch just about anything, so that doesn't mean much.

I won't guarantee how well these'll hold up but if you were interested in doing something like that, there's how it worked. (Hi, future me, you're welcome for writing it down lol.)

I'm sort of sorry for no more process pictures but honestly most of it was following whimsy and doing what I felt like and kind of drawing on what I hadn't realized was a lot lot lot of hours of past paint-handling in my life, so pictures wouldn't help anyone else recreate this. But it did remind me that I love to paint and should do that more. So, I'll try, I guess.

[matchsumu]

'tis the damn season

description: you and Atsumu revisit old feelings whenever he comes to your hometown (based on 'tis the damn season by taylor swift) paring: miya atsumu x reader genre: angst

Atsumu knew it was wrong.

He knew that he was just making things worse by stirring up old feelings again. But that didn't stop him from driving to your house late in the night.

The storm made it hard to see, and the windshield wipers on his mother's truck swung rapidly to clear off the rain.

Atsumu was lying to himself if he said he hadn't been thinking about you ever since he told his mother he'd be coming home for the equinox this autumn.

She hummed. "Make any other plans here for the weekend?"

He hated the fact that everyone else knew too.

Thunder crashed loudly as he turned onto the dirt road that your little cottage rested on.

You were a school teacher now.

At least that's what his mother told him, unprovoked. You taught elementary education in the same school that you had both attended when you were young.

When you were young.

Sometimes he had caught himself thinking about those days. Times like these, more specifically.

You were a cute kid, with a big smile that you'd grow beautifully into.

It was always perfect to him.

The porch lights were on and he wasted no time to park and hurry to the front door.

He was kicking mud up, but he didn't care about the mess. He would care in a few weeks, when he would catch a glimpse at the muck on his shoes and feel the stain on his heart ache.

He took a deep breath before knocking.

Just this weekend.

Just this last time.

You opened the door in a fluffy robe holding a cup of tea.

"Hi," Atsumu said, hating the way his voice sounded.

"Hi," you replied softly.

That voice. He missed it dearly. It just felt right, an accent similar to his own. He missed hearing all the nice things you used to say to him. Everything felt right again when he was with you.

He could never admit this to anyone-- even himself-- but when volleyball got hard, and the critics wrote filth about him, he imagined he was with you. And for that moment, he would let himself pretend that everything was okay again.

Just this weekend.

You offered him tea, and he politely declined.

The two of you made small talk as you were sitting in your living room, him on the couch and you in an armchair.

"Have you spoken to any of your old high school teammates-- besides Osamu of course," you joked a little awkwardly and he laughed good-naturedly.

"No, I haven't," he paused wondering if he really wanted to know the answer, "have you?"

You hesitated before nodding. "I had lunch with Shinsuke recently. He has been helping out at the school."

Your response hurt, and he was angry at himself for feeling that way. He had no claim to you anymore. Besides you could call it even, since he himself had a few casual flings.

Even if he only went to bed with them to try and forget the way your skin felt against his.

"That's wonderful," Atsumu said, trying his best to mean it.

Hours passed as the two of you continued to chat, and the conversation slowly turned natural again, like it used to be.

He didn't know when it happened but you were sitting next to each other on the couch now, knees touching.

You didn't flinch when Atsumu slipped and called you 'babe'. And he took that as a sign to slide his hand up your robe and kiss you deeply.

Just this weekend.

Just this last time.

You both knew he was leaving again. It didn't matter if you begged him to stay or if he asked you to wait for him.

You'd stay in bed together the whole day tomorrow and when you'd drift off sometime midday, Atsumu would force himself to leave your warm embrace and head back to Osaka.

He'd leave a polite note wishing you well, even though he knew he was the reason why you weren't.

Atsumu knew that the ache in your heart was caused by his own ache for something more. Unfortunately he was a selfish man with dreams that were worth more to him than yours.

At least he had the fairness to break his own heart as well.

This way, you could at least call it even.

[louisisalarrie]

Hello! After seeing articles about Louis denying the Larry rumors once again, I wanted to share a "receipt" - although it is pretty short. The details might not be very clear as it was from the summer of 2018 (maybe August?) ... I tried looking for photos of me from the exact day, but couldn't find any - although I vividly remember that it was very hot so definitely late summer! Anyways ...

Basically I was visiting London that summer from late July to early August and was sitting on a bench with my mom in the park. I was not a big Harry fan but I did know Sign of the Times and a few others - also, he definitely wasn't the level of fame he is now where people are constantly recognizing him. He caught my eye because I liked his outfit and obviously I thought he was attractive. From my memory, he was wearing an all white outfit, with white vans, and those cute paper boy hats he used to wear. He was also wearing sunglasses which was part of the reason I didn't recognize him at first.

He was walking with two other guys - one was wearing jeans, a blue (I think) shirt, and also sunglasses ... and the other was also wearing jeans, a white shirt and a hat (more of a baseball cap - unlike Harry's).

From the direction they passed by Harry was closest to me and then it went the baseball cap guy, then the blue shirt guy, standing next to him (but from my view on the side they were directly behind him). As a result, I couldn't see the others that well. However, I guess I was staring at Harry for more than a normal amount of time because then the baseball cap guy leaned forward and looked at me (kind of a "back off" intimidating look haha) - and I saw that he was holding Harry's hand - and in my head I was like "Harry Styles is gay?"

So when I got back to my hotel I looked up "Harry Styles boyfriend" and came across Larry and then realized that it was Louis (which I did know was from 1D despite me not being a huge fan) ... and I fell down the Larry rabbit hole. However, with school the past few years I kind of backed away from all of it.

Being delusional, I love to think that Louis thought I was pretty and viewed me as "competition" haha ... which of course I think Harry is attractive, but Harry looked like he was in his own little world and was very smiley and giggly (and did that screech laugh he does when he finds something really funny - so cute!) They were all walking pretty quickly and I looked away awkwardly after Louis looked at me (because to be honest I was kind of scared haha) - so that is all.

Anyways, I just thought that our fandom needed a lift due to Louis "denial" haha. So unless something has changed, (which I don't think it has), Harry was very in love in 2018 - and based off of Harry's House, still is.

Hopefully I made some people's days better! :)

I looooooove this!!! Thank you for sharing, anon!!! Much appreciated. A looooot of receipts (and also just their interactions) show that Louis is quite protective and possessive, and also a chance he didn’t want you seeing them hold hands.

Was it any chance this day? Because that’s very sweet if it was!!! Matches the outfit description pretty well, and was early august!!

[glitchyk]

The missing children —

Mainly based around Kay’s POV

Tw implied murder/death, there are no images but there is explained death along with the implicated brutal murder of children.

I didn’t want to make it too descriptive…

Kept it short and sweet, enjoy this small snippet of how I imagine the party went over

——

Music. The music could be heard in the background of the pizzeria, the only other noises being excited children, and the idle chatter of adults. Games playing, and the parties of children being the most loud. Katherine sat at the table and watched a few other kids run by, playing happily, some were watching the animatronics. Divory was arguing with rabid, one of them saying Chika looked like a man while the other said it didn’t, Milo was playing an arcade came nearby, I’d seen Divory playing it just moments before… perhaps they gave up on it due to difficulty. Ark was with the adults, slightly cling to one of them as they scanned the pizzeria. It was their birthday, yet it already looked like they had a bad feeling.

Katherine looked out the window of the pizzeria, seeing a ‘missing’ sign for someone she knew, she frowned, seeing the kid her age on the paper, one hand idly flicked the string keeping her party hat on. She got up, this didn’t feel right, worrying so much, she was a child yet tended to overthink oh so damn often.

She wandered around the pizzeria, going slightly away from where the party was being held. She hummed softly as she heard the sound of the puppet’s music box, though, she always preferred calling it the marionette… that sounded better, at least, to her.

…there was an “out of order” sticker on the side of the puppet’s box, she frowned a bit more, the marionette was always one of her favorites, it seemed like an interesting animatronic. Before she could get closer, Bixell, her aunt, could be seen.

“Kat, you shouldn’t be around here… the puppet needs prepares.” Bixell said, though she shoulder more… tired. “Just…. Go okay along with your friends.

“…They’re gonna find Mosh, right?” Katherine asked, looking up at the adult, who paused for a moment.. and than looked over at her again.

“..Yeah. It will just take a bit..” Bixell ruffled Katherine’s hair and tried to speak in a lighter tone, “Now be gone, you gremlin.”

Katherine still had that frown on her face, but slowly nodded, but still wandered around, nowhere near the main party. She could hear the soft clunking of animatronic steps nearby, in the corner of her eye— foxy! Ooohhh.. she always liked foxy, maybe it’s because he did something different than the band, and he wandered at times? Katherine hasn’t gotten the time to ask her uncle and aunt about why foxy seems to act odd like a few other animatronics, maybe she’ll ask after the party.

Katherine hummed as she followed the large fox-like animatronic, she hopped from white tile to white tile, playing as if when she stepped on a different color or the black tiles, that she would ‘lose’.

Katherine followed around the animatronic for a bit, eventually it went back to pirates cove, and she saw her friends there again. Rabid and Milo were not at the table, Ark was off somewhere, and Divory was playing that fruit game again.

Katherine looked around, “Hello?” She called out, it was their little cousin’s birthday today.. they felt a bit concerned at Ark not being around. They soon found the slightly smaller child hiding under a table, clinging to their usual toy.

“Hey… are you alright?” Katherine asked quietly, Ark shook their head quickly. The adults were around much now, leaving the kids unattended… so it makes Ark felt unease. After all… their older brother and his friends were here.

“No…” Ark murmured, Katherine looked around and went under the table with Ark, who looked away.

“..Do you wanna join the others?” Another shake of the head. “…Do you want me to hang out here a bit?” Another shake of the head, it was clear that Ark wanted to be left alone. Katherine sighed, “Alright… I’ll check on you later though, alright?” was all she said before emerging from under the table, she looked around, the ‘big kids’ didn’t notice anything, yet… Divory was gone? Huh.

Divory’s gone.. so is Springbonnie. Huh…

Katherine walked around for a bit, peaking nearby the stage and wandering the arcade, “Dia?” No sign of the shades wearing child. “Diiiaaaaaa? Divory??” She paused as she waked by where the storage rooms were, hearing what sounded like a strangled cough..? What?

She knew that was the parts and services room, her parent, and her aunt and uncle, would sometimes let her wander while they worked. Katherine could feel her stomach drop, sounded like something breaking.. but it was distant. It wasn’t distant, those rooms were just more resilient to sound.

“Ivory..? Are you okay…?” Katherine murmured, slowly approaching the room, whispering. She knew they could get in trouble in they were there, and it sounded like someone was hurt… every step felt colder.. fuck… fuck.. she knew she shouldn’t have come to this damn party.

They took a small breath, they knew they should just get an adult, someone could be hurt, bit… if no one’s hurt, they could just get in trouble. She pulled a key out of her pocket, one she’d swiped last time she went to mess with spare parts in parts and services, she didn’t even think for a moment as to why Dia would be in there when the room’s locked. The small key slid into the lock, gently turning with a soft click at it unlocking, the handle slowly turned, and she pushed the door open..

Her eyes widened as she saw what was inside. Oh god… it was bloody, it wasn’t just Divory. While Katherine had gone searching for them, the others had too.. getting lured in, by him. It didn’t help that as she opened the door she saw the swift moment of his axe striking one of her friends right in the throat, cutting their head off of their body, just like their other limbs, a shriek of terror could be heard from Rabid nearby, as Milo was cowering in a corner. One bloody scream left Divory as they were struck, Milo made brief eye contact with Katherine, who could already see all the blood pooling on the floor…

Rabid also saw Katherine, she struggled as she was grabbed by the neck, face turning white as rabid licked her legs, the suit wearing assailant didn’t budge, “LET ME GO— Katy-!” Katherine felt everything go cold as her nickname was said, the assailant looked over at the open door, Milo got the nerve to make another attempt to fight off the guy.

“Put her down!” Katherine didn’t know what she was doing, but she ran. She ran from the door, or at least, attempted to, she needed to get an adult.

“Oh no you don’t you brat.” A familiar voice said with a snarl, reaching out and practically yanking the girl into the room. Their other hand tightened on rabid, who was sobbing slightly and trying to free themselves, feeling their air being cut off as the assailant strangled them.

It wasn’t too long before another crack could be heard, the sobs from rabid halting as their body was dropped to the floor. He looked at the child kicking at him and trying to get him off their friends, he let go of Katherine’s leg for a moment, she quickly got up— unfortunately only in time to see as the crazed man hacked his ace right onto the front of the other child’s face. Grabbing them by the head as they screamed, trying to get free as they cried for help, another sickening crack could be heard as the man practically cut off the child’s face.

Katherine was frozen and shaking as she stood there, parts of her soaked in her own friends blood, she didn’t notice, but Milo and Divory had gotten a few decent hits on their attacker, leaving him partially bruised or with small springlock cuts, but.. that didn’t do much to save any of them.

“Look who’s all alone.” He taunted, the worst thing was that bun wasn’t even dead, Katherine could hear their barely alive sobs and gasps for air. It was one of the smaller rooms.. they could smell blood all over, barely even paying attention to the animatronic parts nearby as she made another attempt to run. They felt a pain jolt through their leg as the same hatchet walked at them, not severing anything like with the others, but cutting through and making the child fall pathetically as an arm went to cradle the damaged limb.

Tears formed in their eyes as they made eye contact with the man through the suit, another swift slice aimed to their face, they tried to move their arm up in a defensive manner, forgetting it wouldn’t help much, as now they had giant gashes in two appendages. They could only hear a comment about them making it more difficult, before everything went black, and red. Their right eye socket bled heavily, everything became blurry through the tears and darkness, they could only struggled out as they made the definitely realization. “U-Uncle Nerfy-“

CRACK.

.

.

.

Everything went to black. Oh and they weren’t even aware of the bloodshed happening in the birthday child’s party. Everything hurt, everything was dark…

Katherine looked around, she didn’t know where she was. She looked down at her form, and she was… transparent..? Slightly..? Her head hurt… she couldn’t remember exactly what happened before everything went black, just pain.

She looked around the bloodied empty room. She sat there… for who knows how long… before someone else emerged.

Another ghost, a child with a slightly luminescent green wrist band. They seemed familiar…

The other ghost child held out what seemed to be a gift.

“A gift?”

“Yes… a gift. For you. You are… lost.” A slightly taller ghost child would say, looking down at the newer spirit.

The younger’s brow furrowed, “…I’m not lost… I’m… waiting.”

The other tilted their head, “For what?”

“…I’m not sure.” The younger murmured, “I’m waiting… for them. They’ll find me.. and if they don’t.. I’ll stay here.”

“You can’t stay here forever.” The older ghost said, though they understood.. they knew the younger would only be disappointed if they waited

The younger looked to the side, gently hugging their legs closer as their transparent figure rested against the wall, “Maybe. But I’d… rather. I don’t deserve a present, anyways.. I’ve done nothing. I’ll wait, for them to come back..”

The slightly taller ghost would set down the ghostly gift in their hand, sitting next to Kay, “…I’ll wait with you, then.”

The pieces hadn’t all come together yet… Kay had the pieces, so did the others, they just couldn’t put them together… along with the confusion and lack of memory of death..

——

Hehe… just a thing I wrote for @vexation-816’s Fnaf au (since he gave us a list of characters a while back) and I came up with.. hehe…

Characters present.

Vex as Micheal Afton

@ark-fork as Golden Freddy/The crying child

@moshieee as the puppet/Charlie Emily

@dia-smthidk as Chika/suisie

@rabid-mercenary16 as Gabriel/Freddy

@bunnybunnsowo as Jeremy/Bonnie

@ner5y as William Afton

@bixell-pixell as Henry Emily

[thealiencaptian]

We’ll Meet Again

- - Carwood Lipton / OFC

description: Vivian Wells, an Army nurse is stationed with Easy Company as they invade Europe. Put within the makeshift aid station in Carentan, she meets a soldier who seems to consume her mind.

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

an: this is so badly not edited and 101% probably not true to the true battle.... oops:.. idk if I wanna make this a series, but yk yall can eat this for now. If it becomes a series I will NOT write smut bc I am an asexual minor and I don't like consuming that type of content

!!!! THIS IS ALLL BASED ON THE MEDIA REPRESENTATION. THIS IS NOT TO BE DISRESPECTFUL TO THE VETERANS WHO FOUGHT. BE RESPONSIBLE !!!!

warnings: war - not proof read (we die like my sanity, ok?) - read like a drama script in speech cus I'm a speech kid.

THE bullets that flew through the sky always ended up with a cry from a soldier. Vivian could sense the pain a few seconds before it even registered in the man's head, running towards the shout for a medic. She always made quick work of the job, her hands gentle but confident with every movement. There was no time to waste on an active battleground.

Vivian talked softly everytime she was met with the same sight – a boy sobbing for his mother, begging not to die. “Hey, hey it’s okay. You’re not going to die..” The words were nothing short of an empty promise yet her voice comforted the stranger she might never see again.

The ending was always varied. Being a medic you never knew what was to come, you just hoped for the best but it was never that. This was war, afterall. In a war, you were always covered in the blood of something. You didn't know if it was yours, the person next to you, or the enemies. This mainly applied to Vivian and the rest of the field nurses. Their white uniforms stained with the deep red they’d never be able to get out of the suffocating material.

Vivian got the man onto a stretcher, calling over some other soldiers to carry him back to the aid station to get better treatment. She watched him panic subconsciously, her heart breaking slightly at the sight she witnessed so often. If she was able to, she would have cured everyone's pain – mentally and physically. She watched so many people, including nurses, struggle on the daily with issues untalked about. It was like everyone was afraid of talking about how they were feeling– the freight of opening up and losing the person you suddenly became close to because of similar feelings towards the war. It was a constant cycle of worrying.

It was cold, it always had been. The battle had been won, yet it never felt like we won it. The grayness of the exploded buildings, the blood splattered on the ground of soldiers both Allied and not, the dim light of a cigarette from an exhausted man reflecting off broken glass in the night sky, the blue sign indicating where we were– somewhere in Normandy. It was a somber sight, soldiers mourning the loss of the killed and the ones who were wounded that may not even make it back to join them again in the fight against evil. Vivian stood there, watching the scene. The sun was blending into the ground, the sunset becoming the night. It was a terrifying yet beautiful mess.

She stood there watching the sunset for a few moments before turning away and returning to the aid station that was now moved into an old but large building. The stench of the building was horrid. There were barely any showers available at any time in a situation such as this, men and women alike went weeks without showering due to the lack of. It was like walking through a grocery store after the power went out and all the meat had expired. Vivian ignored the funk and carried on with her tasks – attending to the men in the makeshift infirmary.

“Nurse Wells!” Someone calls for her, “We need you over Here!”

Her head flicks up at the sound, apologizing to the soldier she was talking to before scurrying over to the call. It was a Sergeant, and the situation was mostly under control so Vivian was rather confused why she was called over here.

“What's wrong-” Vivian said, being cut off.

“Take care of him, Viv, we have other people to care for.” Nurse Brown had spoken over Vivian before quickly running towards a bleeding out soldier. She huffed slightly, they had always not cared enough about her and gave her people who just didn't want aid – Vivian could tell this man was the same way as well.

“Where are you hit, Sergeant?” She asked, looking up to his face and scanning it. There was a pretty nasty gash on his otherwise uninjured face. “Nevermind, stupid question.”

She grabbed her gauze, pressing it to the wound to hopefully stop the bleeding. It wasn’t deep to where it was spitting out blood, just needed some help. Vivian grabbed her cleaning agent and cleaned the wound, moving her eyes from the injury to his eyes when he pulled back a bit.

“Sorry.” He muttered, leaning forward and letting her finish cleaning the wound on his face. She eventually finished the job, stitching it up with precision. She gave a once over on his body, checking for any other injuries. Seemingly, they had a male medic patch up the wound in his inner thigh. She didn’t second guess their decisions, just making sure it was cleaned properly and treated like it should have.

Vivian stood there for a moment, thinking about what she was going to say while she was cleaning up the area from the blood and medical supplies for the next patient to sit where he was. “You’re free to go, Sergeant. Take it easy, yeah? Come back in a few days to get those stitches removed.”

Her initial impression of the Sergeant was wrong. He was quite kind about the whole situation even while being the one injured. “Yes ma’am.” He responded. “I’ll see you then, Ms. Wells.”

AND he was respectful? That was unexpected. Some men were rather disrespectful. Vivian nodded goodbye to him, noting his name on the sheet on the table. C. Carwood Lipton.

Lipton disappeared back into the world, taking it easy as she had suggested – more like… commanded. Vivian tended to have a large commanding presence on pure accident. There was something about that nurse that made him pause his steps for a moment, debating on turning back and asking her some other question about it. Lipton decided against it, letting her live her life as it was. It was none of his business to get to know a nurse in a war, anyways. There was the looming warning of death hung over their heads all the time.

She went back to tending to the wounded, letting herself comfort the dying men with false smiles – wanting them to believe they’d be okay, not wanting them to go out sobbing for someone like their mother that they’d never meet again. Half the men she watched die weren't even allowed to drink legally in the United States– it was painful. Vivian turned away from the dying man, her eyes moving to the figure leaving the aid station.

She watched Lipton leave. She felt like he was slipping out of her hands without even understanding why. Yet, at that moment, she knew they’d meet again soon.

[gotjacobian]

Travel journal-type posting, just describing some of the stuff I've gotten to do in Japan.

Day 1: Got off the plane, got through passport control and customs with minimum issues (I fucked up my entry date bc time zones and had to hold up the line while I fixed it whoops). Took the subway to Yokohama, also screwed that up because I was hopped up on benadryl and still only managed to sleep for 2 hours at a time max on the plane. Unscrewed it up with the help of a very patient attendant, made it to the hotel. I bought takoyaki and a highball from a place across the street from the hotel, which reminded me that I don’t actually like takoyaki. It’s too mushy. Then passed out.

Day 2: This was my full day in Yokohama before the conference. I beelined for a 7-11 to get the canned coffee I like and can only get here (and some pastries), then went to a park by the baseball stadium to eat it. Then I took off to try and at least see the (closed :( ) gundam factory exhibit. There was a triathalon in the way, so I spent awhile wandering through parks to get around it and get close enough for a picture. There were tons of beautiful gardens, and lots of people taking photos of their costumed dogs there? Like, 3 dog photoshoots for every presumed child/romantic partner photoshoot. They all seemed very happy to chill in the flowers and get fussed over.

In general Yokohama is really well suited to my kind of travel wandering - going along the harbor coast takes you through a couple different gorgeous parks and past a few museums, and also gives you a great view of the water. I ended up going into the doll museum, and immediately learned I had vastly overestimated the amount of english they’d have on the exhibits based on their website. I speak basically no Japanese, so used an image translate app a lot. That’s wasn’t an option the last time I was in Japan in 2019 - it was really useful! I drained my battery using it on basically every single plaque in the museum. The style of the exhibit captions felt different than I’d expect from a US museum. They were often more anecdotes from an artist or curator than they were descriptions. I’m curious to what extent that was cultural or was something lost in translation? The translations I got definitely weren’t perfect, and seemed to get worse the more anecdotal or conversational the material was.

The exhibit that attracted me to the doll museum was called “Why do we create objects that look like humans?”. It had exhibits of historical dolls and sculptures, as well as installations from modern artist and dollmakers. A lot of it touched on an inherent alienation in recreating the human in the nonhuman, and the ways all depictions of the human form are exaggerated in ways we sort after the fact into “beautiful” or “grotesque.” I liked it, but honestly wanted it to be more like, embodiment philosophy-y. Very much a me problem.

On the way back, I stopped by Yokohama’s Chinatown. I feel like it was much more of a tourist attraction than the equivalent in Boston or SF - lots of street food stands and people hawking specific restaurants or palm-reading services. Lots of panda-themed merch. It was VERY crowded. I bought a single pork bun for lunch, wandered through a few stores, and then ditched to try and find somewhere calmer.

A friend recommended that I check out Kaganecho, the arts district about a half an hour walk along the canal from where I was staying, so I went that way. I immediately saw a lot of signs advertising an “Art Bazaar” that was supposed to be happening in the area. There were people wandering around with tickets and brochures. It took me an hour to figure out how to get one - I was saved by stumbling on a performance piece that was part of the exhibit, a woman playing a song by hitting a series of bowls with wooden mallets, that just happened to be scheduled right then. It was right under the train line, so you got the loud rumbling drowning her out every few minutes, and also the ambient city sounds of bikes and children and wind under her playing. When she finished, I stalked some people who were watching with me and finally found the office that could sell me a ticket.

The “art bazaar” is a yearly exhibition in a series of apartments converted into studios in the few blocks around a particular train station. You’re given a ticket and a map where some of the buildings were marked. You wander around to find them, go in, and there’s Art there. I’ll probably post separately about this, honestly. It was one of the coolest gallery experiences I’ve ever had. The theme of the exhibits was “The world through no art”, and a lot of the material directly engaged with the history of the area - a neighborhood that housed a lot of bars, brothels, etc starting from the US occupation in the city post WWII, which were forcibly evicted in the 2000s, then later replaced with the studios as part of a city initiative to ‘rejuvenate’ the area. I went to every single exhibit that was open and stayed until I was about to pass out from the combination of walking and art feelings. I chickened out of going to a restaurant alone when I was already exhausted, and instead grabbed a katsu sandwich from 7-11 to eat in my hotel room.

Day 3: Start of the conference. It was raining horribly, and I have big fears about walking in the rain with my laptop, so I skipped the first couple hours until it calmed enough that I felt okay buying and using an umbrella. The conference was in this giant exhibition hall on a peninsula in the city that was all fancy hotels, shopping centers, and an amusement park. My maps app kept trying to get me to walk THROUGH the amusement park to get there, which was a kind of ominous experience when it was empty and raining. I met with some friends and labmates, we got Singaporean food for lunch (chicken and rice), and went to some of the afternoon talks. There was a welcome banquet where a guy performed with Kendamas (japanese toy/prop with a wooden ball attached to a wooden thing with cups and a spike). He did a bunch of poi tricks with them, and seemed to be having the time of his life. They also opened the expo, where I discovered they did at least have the gundam head from the gundam factory exhibit left over (still cannot believe they would close it a month before the robotics conference). Me and one of my former labmates got dinner at a katsu place that claimed to be the oldest in the city. We had to split from the group to get it, since there weren’t any vegetarian options there, but it was really good. I discovered that my hotel is like 1/10th as fancy as any of the other conference hotels, idk what happened. Very jealous of the main venue hotel people who had a room overlooking the harbor.

Day 4: Got there in the morning, did some conference stuff. We got sushi for lunch in this giant mall right next to the venue. I ditched for half an hour in the afternoon to wander through a different park by the harbor, which was also very pretty. All the greenery is very green and the water is very blue. I took another break to try and work some on my paper, since I feel bad for not doing more of that, but finding a place with decent wifi is hard. I meet back up with my labmates to get dinner, at a nearby ramen place with vegan options. I got their signature yuzu shio ramen, which was good, but I still prefer the pork-based styles.

Day 5: Is the day I’m helping present. I go to my coauthor’s presentation and then stand with him at the poster session, and get to talk to a few people. I’m surprised how fast the paper comes back to me, even though I haven’t really thought about it for at least a year at this point. I get lunch with another labmate at a milk-themed restaurant in the mall. I’m weirdly charmed that in Japan, “milk” is a flavor? And that there are prefectures proud of their local milk? The restaurant has both western-style food with cheese or cream as ingredients, and a milk and cheese bar where you can get bread, spreadable cheese, and toppings. I run back to the hotel before the conference banquet, get lost in the other hotel the banquet is in, finally arrive and realize all my labmates are either ditching or got a different banquet venue, so I sit with a very nice person from the university of edinburgh I met at the poster earlier that day. I talk about firespinning and mugs because I’m incapable of not doing so. Every one of the venues has a different style of food and performance - ours performance is actually a lion dance, which is notably… not japanese, put on by students from a school in the local chinatown. It’s still really impressive, especially given that they did it between the tables people were eating at. Like, I’ve attempted to be a base for a cheerleading toss once, and it was hard for 3 people to hold one up - these performers were jumping on each other’s shoulders the whole time, while puppeting the giant lion. They kept having it pretend to eat the heads of the people it walked past, it was a good time.

I spend an hour or two that night on my Quest, which is that I saw some kind of peach jelly drink in exactly one vending machine early in the trip and didn’t buy it. Now I want it, so I’ve been wandering through the city inspecting vending machines to try and find it again. Tonight I wander up and down this shopping center street that has a lot of them, in the rain, but no dice. I buy peach flavored ice cream at the 7-11 instead and reaffirm my mission.

Day 6: I wake up feeling bad, in both a stress and a physical way. I stay at the hotel and work on my paper, then go to a nearby cafe and try to work on my paper, but they don’t have wifi. I go back and end up sleeping, which I feel bad about, but probably needed - I can get disconnected from my own tiredness levels when I’m doing extended crunch time for a project, and I’m trying to be more aware of that. I don’t go to any of the conference stuff, but do leave at one point to get the local kind of ramen from a place I saw recommended online. The style is called ie-kei, and is an emulsified mix of pork broth and shoyu with chicken oil, served with pork, seaweed, short noodles, and spinach on top. I redeem myself by ordering and eating in the restaurant alone. It’s good in a comfort food way. I go back to the hotel and alternate working and sleeping, and end up skipping dinner with my labmates because I still feel gross.

Day 7: I feel better when I wake up, but have already committed to skipping this day of the conference because I’m going to Osaka. I find another cafe that actually has wifi, and eat there to do some work in the morning. Tangent - people really go nuts for the egg salad sandwiches here, and I don’t get it. I tried one and thought it was tasteless and had that bad cooked egg yolk texture. Super not for me.

I check out of the hotel and take the subway to Tokyo station. I get there an hour early because I forgot when my train was, so wander around the station for a while. It is SO crowded and there are SO MANY stores selling train bento, souvenirs, boxes of desserts to give as gifts, etc, and every single one has a designated salesperson shouting into the void. It is the most sensory-overloading, maze-like place I have been in my entire life. I take great pride in managing to eventually actually find the internet-recommended places to get ekibento for the train. I buy one with more traditional food, and one kids one that comes in a fake JR train freight container, because I really want the fake freight container. I also get an apple-custard pastry and a crepe with cream and melon ball topping. And then I am exhausted, and still too early for my train, so I stand by the platform and am extremely confused when someone asks me for directions (correctly assigned english-speaking person who knows where the ekibento are at the tokyo shinkansen station, I guess).

I do get on the train eventually, and eat one of the bento (I save the second because I am worried the person sitting next to me is gonna judge me for eating 2 bento, one of which is definitely meant for children, but I will eat it eventually). I said I was gonna do work but instead I’m writing this and watching out the window of the train. I feel like everyone has their travel fixation - my grandparents laugh about how when my mom and brother would go on trips as kids, they’d get disposable cameras. And when they developed the photos, all of them were of ponds, lakes, coastlines, because they grew up in the west texas desert. I grew up in the flat, flat Texas plains, and now I’m like that about mountains. This train goes straight through them, and right past Mt Fuji. It gets to me how distinctive the landscape in japan is - I’ve looked at a lot of traditional japanese art as like, a precursor to modern styles in comics, because I find it interesting. And I feel like I looked at some elements of that style - atmospheric perspective, depth through stacking flat layers of scenery, the specific abstract-seeming way Mt Fuji gets drawn - and assumed it was entirely an artistic choice. But like… Mt Fuji just looks like that. The landscape just looks like that, with the fog and the layered mountains. The green is such a specific shade of green, and the blue is a specific shade of blue, and the buildings are all such a particular faded palette in a way I feel like must make Japan instantly recognizable on geoguessr, a game I am very bad at. I love looking at the cities and buildings, too - I wish I knew the words to describe the specifics of the style and design. I feel like I'm getting increasing city architecture obsessed these days, despite not having that language. Getting to see it is the bit of travel that really makes me feel like I'm experiencing something I couldn't anywhere else. I'm gonna find my hotel in Osaka once I get there, hunt down some food, then will probably try and do some more work before bed. Then tomorrow, in theory, Osaka castle and whatever else seems compelling.