#so they both wore jackets/hoodies instead :)

[chisfics]

two gay senior citizens going on a date after finally reconciling their decades of unresolved (sexual) tension

[leclerc-hs]

lucky pt. 2 - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: in which you and your childhood best friend, are most definitely in love, but it's too complicated (or is it?) Warnings: most french edited by @softtdaisy (shoutout to her!!), SMUT, angst, 18+, not proofread Word Count: 2,695 Author's Note: I absolutely loved writing this!! I know I said I would wait for the poll to end but I think we can just do bonus scenes in the future if wanted!! xoxo PART 1 BONUS

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Imbécile,” Idiot. Arthur throws a piece of his balled-up napkin, hitting you right in the face. “Maman wants you there, pas d’excuses.” No excuses.

It had been almost two weeks since you and Charles last spoke. The both of you far too stubborn to bring up the argument you last had. Instead, you ignored the problem at hand. By not seeing each other. Sunday dinner at Pascale’s was a weekly occurrence. One that you failed to attend last week, and it was shame on you if you missed another because of Charles.

You release a heavy sigh, acknowledging that you’re about to yield and head over to Pascale’s. After all, it’s not entirely her fault that her son seems to be obvlious to certain things. 

“Il est fou amoureux de toi!” He is in love with you! Arthur exclaims softly as he notices your eyes won’t stray from the icy window of the café you are both seated in. You felt your throat tighten at the phrase.

“Ce n’est pas grave, Arthur,” It doesn’t matter. It didn’t matter. Him being in love with you wasn’t always enough, or so you thought. He could barely commit to his ex-girlfriend. Could he commit to you? You couldn’t handle losing him if it didn’t work out. It was a recipe for disaster to begin with.

The two of you didn’t realize how dark it was already getting. Meaning you were for sure late to Pascale’s.

“Tu viendras avec moi?” Will you come with me?

“Bien sur.” Of course. You couldn’t not go. One, because you knew nothing but seeing Pascale will put a smile on your face. Two, Arthur wouldn’t let you leave this café without dragging you to his Maman’s first. 

It was a short drive from the café to Pascale’s place. The limited size of the principality made the journey quick, allowing you to take in the charming scenery along the way. As you approached Pascale’s home, a smile graced your lips at the sight of the festive decorations adorning the steps.

Pascale’s touch was evident in the small Christmas trees, their lights casting a warm glow that sparkled beside the front door. The holiday spirit infused the air, creating a sense of coziness and anticipation. 

The warmth of Pascale’s home enveloped you as Arthur swung the door open. His hand gently found its place on the small of your back, guiding you inside with a gesture that spoke of familiarity and care.

He assisted you in shedding the layers of clothes you wore. Your scarf and jacket were in his hands, swiftly finding their place on the nearby coat rack. Amidst the exchange, laughter bubbled up, a spontaneous reaction to the slightly comical struggle Arthur faced in unraveling the scarf from your neck.

The sound of shared laughter echoed through the entrance and into the home, allowing the others to become alert of your presence.

“Que se passe t’il?” What’s going on? You felt your laugh stop almost instantly.

Charles’ question hung in the air, and for a moment you were caught off guard. The warmth of Pascale’s cozy home surrounded you, but the sudden seriousness in his tone made you pause. You looked into his eyes, searching for any hints of the playful banter that usually characterized your interactions.

He stood not too far away, a soft white hoodie and a casual pair of jeans on. You felt your heart clench with want. You missed him. You wanted to hug him and never let go.

“Rien, juste une journée un peu folle,” Nothing, just a bit of a crazy day. You replied with a sheepish smile. Your attempt to brush off the question with a casual response didn’t escape Charles notice. He studied your face for a moment, trying to decipher your emotions. 

Arthur, sensing some tension, guided you towards the living room and past Charles. As you both settled into the inviting cushions, the crackling sounds from the fireplace filled the room with a soothing rhythm.

Pascale entered the room carrying two glasses of wine. “Ma fille,” My girl she says, a term of endearment feeling much like a warm embrace to you. Pascale handed you one of the glasses with a tender smile, sealing the gesture with a gentle kiss on your cheek. 

Charles’s unease didn’t go unnoticed as he took a seat on the sofa across from you and Arthur. The atmosphere seemed charged with tension, and Pascale’s seemingly casual question carried a weight that went beyond mere curiosity.

“Est-ce que tu vois quelqu’un?” Are you seeing anybody? Pascale asked, her tone gentle but perceptive. The question, on the surface, appeared to be a routine inquiry about your romantic life. However, the underlying context hinted at a concern born out of a missed dinner and deviation from the usual routine. 

The atmosphere in the room shifted as you became acutely aware of Charles’s intense gaze beside Pascale. Seated on the couch, his eyes bore into you with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the very core of your being. His eyes, like embers, conveyed a myriad of emotions – curiosity, intensity, and perhaps a touch of scrutiny. 

“Maman, laisse-la tranquille,” Leave her alone. Arthur speaks before you can. A sense of relief filling you up as you take a large gulp of the red wine in your glass.

Pascale scrunches her eyes at Arthur, poised to deliver a retort that only she knows. However, before any words escape her lips, the timer in the kitchen interrupts the moment. “Arthur, viens m’aider.” Come help me. Arthur gives you a sympathetic look before leaving the room following Pascale. 

Lost in thought, your gaze fixates on the flickering flames within the fireplace. The dancing firelight casts shadows that capture your attention, creating a mesmerizing display that seems more captivating than acknowledging a brooding Charles, seated across from you.

“Tu ne peux pas m’ignorer éternellement,” You can’t ignore me forever. His voice interrupts your train of thought, gently pulling you back into the present moment.

The solitary sentence prompts an immediate eye roll from you. How dare he? How dare he pretend that you’re the only one at fault?

“Ne lève pas les yeux au ciel en me regardant,” Don’t roll your eyes at me. The atmosphere shifted as he rose from his seat on the couch, undoubtedly making his way to occupy the now vacant spot beside you. However, the nature of his touch became more intimate than you anticipated. His hands ventured onto your thigh, traveling higher than the boundaries of a typical friendship would permit. 

In a disconcerting turn of events, his other hand gripped your jaw, redirecting your gaze to meet his. The sudden change in physical proximity and the assertiveness of his actions left palpable tension in the air.

“Vas y,” Make me. You provoked him deliberately, seeking to burrow beneath his skin, much like he had already done under yours.

“Viens chez moi.” Come home with me. It wasn’t posed as a question; rather, it was a firm demand – one you were aware you would yield to. You didn’t need to articulate your response; he could discern it just by the slow flicker of your eyes to his. Without another word, you withdrew your chin from his hands and stood up, making your way into the kitchen, and leaving him behind. 

“Nous avons des choses à discuter.” We have more to discuss. You hear him say loud enough for you to hear but low enough for no one else to hear before you cross into the threshold of the kitchen. 

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Discuss.

You laughed mentally at the word. You and Charles were indisputably not engaging in anything resembling a discussion, that much was certain. Unless you consider the dirty phrases, he’s whispering in your ear a discussion.

“Tu es tellement sexy,” You’re so hot. Charles moans into your mouth as he pushes you onto his unmade bed, falling with you in the process. Both of your clothes were long gone— strewn along the pathway you took from his front door to his bed. “Faite pour moi, putain.” Fucking made for me.

He didn’t know where to look, darting from your thighs to your lips to your unforgettable eyes. His jaw flexed as he let out a soft growl deep in his chest as his finger hooked into the band of your delicate silk panties and ripped them from your body. “Je t’en achèterai advantage.” I’ll buy you more. 

He was so impatient. Couldn’t even wait until he tossed your panties to the side before his mouth was on your center. You gasped as his lips enveloped your sensitive clit and getting a full taste of you. He moaned, dipping his tongue inside of you.

You really believed you could die right here and now. He pulled away momentarily just to look at you, glistening and moaning beneath him. It was a sight he wanted to burn in his memory forever. 

“Tu me rends fou." You drive me insane.

You couldn’t stop moaning. You wanted to tell him that he was the one who drove you insane. That the feeling was more than mutual. But you were incoherent with pleasure. Incapable of words.

He curved two fingers inside of you, almost instantly rubbing your g-spot. “Yeah?” He edged you on. His words alone pushing you to the threshold of your orgasm. “Tu aimes ça?” You like that?

His words were nearly as perilous as his touch. He was smirking above you like the cocky motherfucker he was. You felt delusional as his fingers stroked your g-spot continuously that when he flipped you over and pulled you up to your knees, you let out a shriek of surprise. 

You felt your orgasm closing in as he refused to let up on the assault of your clit. Your orgasm came so fast, you couldn’t even warn Charles before you were trembling all over his fingers.

“Oui, soak me.” Your orgasm was explosive, you could feel your legs shaking. Before you could even recover from the last orgasm, Charles was bringing his fingers that were coated in you to his mouth.

“J'ai vraiment besoin de toi,” I really need you. You muttered softly. The confession so raw. It made Charles heart clench with need to ravish you completely. To ruin you for anybody else.

His grip on your hips tightened as he slipped himself inside of you, eliciting a loud groan. “Mon dieu,”My God.  He moaned. “Tu me fais me sentir si bien,” You make me feel so good.

Your pussy clenched tightly around him at his words. His breaths were jagged and heavy in your ear as he took you harder and harder. 

“Ma salope,” My slut. He groaned, bottoming himself out. “My lucky.”

He could tell that you were there already again, the way you were squeezing him so tight and the clench of your hands trying to support you on the mattress. 

“C’est si bien que ça?,” Is it that nice? “Gonna come for me?”

You did. Your eyes wet with tears from the intensity as his hands squeezed your hips, leaving bruises. He didn’t stop the assault on your pussy, kept pounding into you. He was ruthless.

He threw his head back with a string of curses before pressing soft kisses to your back. He didn’t bother to pull out. He wanted you full of him. In all ways, shapes, and forms. He was selfish. You were thankfully on the pill. He held himself there for a few moments before pulling out and rolling you over to your back so you could face him. He buried his face into your neck, leaving small gentle kisses as you both caught your breath. 

Eventually Charles was able to find the strength to stand and clean you up, pressing a warm cloth to your center as he peppered small kisses to the inside of your thighs. You felt your heart flutter as he tossed the cloth into the hamper and joined you back in the bed, pulling you into his chest under the covers.

You could feel his mind was running a million miles a minute as he traced small circles on your skin. He wanted to ask if you went on any other dates. But he couldn’t handle if you said yes. 

“Qu’est-ce que tu as en tête?” What’s on your mind? You asked.

You were preparing for yet another fight. There was no escaping it any longer. The only sound that filled the air was both of your breathing.

“Je veux que tu sois mienne.” I want you to be mine. As you lay on his chest, you sensed his heartbeat quickening. In response, a soft laugh escaped you, uncertain of how to reply. The weight of your reaction hung heavy in the air, adding more pressure. 

You had to put a stop to this. You felt the panic constricting your throat. You couldn’t continue down this path with him. As you tried to sit up and distance yourself from Charles, his hand swiftly seized your arm, compelling you back towards him. He was determined to make you stay, refusing to let you escape from this conversation any longer.

“Non, arête de fuir le sujet,” No, stop running away from it. He insisted, urging you to stop evading it.  “Il sait déjà que tu m’aimes,” I already know that you love me. He declared, his words rushing out of him uncontrollably. It was as if he couldn’t halt the flow, a sense of panic palpable in his voice. 

You loved him; it wasn’t a secret. Fear held you back. The thought of losing him permanently if things didn’t work out was too daunting. So, you’ve tried to maintain a distance, but it was futile. It was as if he had become your vital source of oxygen – indispensable. You found yourself inextricably linked; your souls entwined. 

“Je ne veux pas te perdre!” I don’t want to lose you. You felt the words rush out of your mouth in a frenzy. His touch, his stare, this conversation was all too much to handle. 

“Je t’aime!” I love you! He repeated it over and over. He wouldn’t stop. You could see the anger forming in his face with each proclamation he made. He was angry. Why wouldn’t you listen? Why wouldn’t you believe him?

“Je suis bien avec toi!” I feel good when I’m with you!

“Tu me plait!” You make me happy!

“J’ai envie de t’embrasser!” I want to kiss you!

“Sans toi, je ne suis rien!” Without you, I am nothing!

“Tu es l’amour de ma vie!” You’re the love of my life!

“Je veux passer ma vie avec toi!” I want to spend my life with you!

“Mon dieu, I even breathe better when I’m with you.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, but he persisted, like a broken record playing an urgent message. His need for you to understand was palpable. He laid bare his soul, expressing that if it wasn’t for you, it would be no one. The pain in his chest mirrored the intensity of his emotions.

His hands held you tightly, rendering you incapable of moving. He needed you close. In response, you brought your hands to his face, swiftly pressing your lips against his.

You felt him grab your face during the kiss, his thumbs brushing the tears from your eyes in the process. 

“You’re mine. My lucky,” he broke the kiss. “You’ve always been mine.”

Your gazes locked, and you held each other’s eyes for an extended moment, as if attempting to decipher the entirety of each other’s thoughts through this intense connection.

“Oui?” He asked softly, seeking confirmation. He needed to hear you say you were his, a moment he had been waiting for his entire life.  He knew he had you now. But he wanted your words.

You recognized there was no longer an option to escape. You belonged to him, and it wasn’t up for discussion. He possessed your heart and soul entirely. You knew that you needed to take a risk. A risk for him. 

You nodded your head slowly, “Oui.”

TAG LIST: @harrysdimple05 @rachyroo-99 @rana030

[polakina]

when you wear their clothes

call of duty headcanons #9

hc masterlist // masterlist

so writing a book is harder than i thought...like a full fucking novel. how do people do this?

rating: explicit

-

loves it

loves it every. fucking. time.

usually finds you in his shirt when he gets home from a long few weeks at work away from you

its always his favourite shirt

an old rock band tee he used to wear when he was younger and could never bring himself to get rid of

it hugged your thighs and rested just above your knees

he adored the fact that you wore his clothes

he adored it even more when he pulled it out of the wardrobe and it smelled of you

often times he couldn't help himself around you when you wore that shirt

loved to fuck you in that shirt

bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in the fabric that smelled only of your perfume when he thrusted into you

lost all sense of subtlety when he noticed you didn't wear anything underneath it

oh how he knew you loved to tease him

bending over to collect the laundry off the floor, teasing him as he caught a glimpse of what was shielded between your legs

you often found yourself bent over the closest surface whenever you did that, his hands roaming over your ass, pushing the long fabric up your body, the tee bunching against the center of your spine

"wearing my clothes around the house, hmm love? god i fucking love it when you do that"

"god you look so fucking good in my shirts"

looks forward to coming home and seeing you in his clothes

its what makes him drive just that tiny bit faster to reach the driveway

forgot how to breathe the first time you wore his hoodie around the house

you were absentmindedly humming to yourself, watering the various plants and tidying the bookshelves

he always found it cute how you had to push the sleeves up your arms because they were too long

loved pulling the hood over your head and chuckling when the edge of the hood reached your nose

sometimes, when putting laundry away in the set of drawers, he'd pull that hoodie out and press his nose against the fabric, inhaling deeply to fill his nose when your scent

he found himself so aroused, so turned on when you wore his clothes

he couldn't understand why

but just as quick as he'd seen those clothes on you, they were on the floor even faster

"you should wear my clothes more often, darling"

"you've got no fucking idea how much it turns me on seeing you dressed like that"

he'd fuck you until he ran out of breath, until sweat dripped down his brows

after that one time, you always found that hoodie in your drawer instead of his, always freshly washed and folded along with your clothes

had always dreamed of this moment

he'd recently bought a new denim jacket with a fur lining for the colder months

you both liked going for walks into the nearby town during autumn and winter, to get coffee in your joint favourite cafe and catch up

but when he couldn't find his jacket , he turned to you, his heart jumping when he saw it covering your body

smiles softly every time you say "i'll just get my jacket" and walk out in that denim jacket of his

the very definition of 'what's mine is yours' and loves it

leaves it out for you by the front door on purpose so you'll grab it on the way out of the house

you like to wear it when you go out to drink because it keeps you warm when you go out for a smoke

once he's got a few drinks in him, anything's on the table

and you know it

which is exactly why you do it

being in a public setting makes him just that much bolder

his hands find his way under that jacket, pushing your dress up over your ass, the tail of the jacket just covering what could be a very explicit scene for some passersby

"fuck, lass, the things you do to me. bet you can feel it, yeah?"

"aw baby, you're cold? don't worry, i'll warm you right up. you just keep my jacket on and you'll be fine, sweetheart"

you guys are a similar size in clothes, which he secretly loves but also hates

one time you saw him wearing your hoodie and couldn't stop laughing about it for hours because he didn't even realise

was very careful picking out his clothes after that

but if you wear his? god, he doesn't know how to act. or what to say

it started out with small things

the occasional shirt, the odd jumper

but when you came downstairs one night wearing his pajamas, he couldn't stop smiling

"what you doing there, babe? is that why it took you so long upstairs? finding my clothes, huh?"

plaid, red and black pajama pants with a matching sleep shirt

he loved that look on you. a little baggy but a perfect fit

made for you

"come here, babe" he'd coax you over

he loved feeling his clothes on your skin, seeing the swell of your breasts between the collar of the shirt

"babe, you look so damn good right now"

he'd make you ride him while you wore his clothes, just pulling the pants down enough to slide his cock into you with ease

you found a lot more of his clothes lying around for convenience rather than your own, which you could never seem to locate

[fuxuannie]

Omgomgomg I READ YOUR CAELUS FIC HEADCANNONS I REQUESTED AND AJDHWIXHEU

Its so good holy

Ahem

If I may

Can I trouble you for a headcannons with Gepard, Blade and Caelus when their s/o steals and wears their clothes?

Also can I become an anon here 👉👈 if yes i wanna be Caelus simp anon >:)

* pairing(s) : various hsr x reader

* prompt : request

* authors note : THIS IS SO CUTE AYIEEEE 😭😭 i luv this i love this enrnmejree,, and blades is a little sadder because i have personal experience /j

CAELUS frowns as he looks through his closet, but his black jacket was nowhere in sight. There's no way that it would be anywhere but inside the small hotel room, but clearly it wasn't. The last time he remembers wearing it was when he visited your room, so maybe he had somehow left it in there?

He hums as he leaves, walking towards your room that was right next to his. To no ones surprise, Caelus tends to forget to knock. And you can imagine his surprise as you're staring in the mirror with glistening eyes and his jacket over your shoulders. "Pretty.." He hears you chuckle, your back turned to the mirror as your head turned around to see the design from the back.

When you turn back, you notice Caelus leaning by the doorframe with an amused smile and crossed arms. "Seems as if the wearer is much much prettier."

You blink a few times, pull his hoodie up over your head and immediately turn around to hide your face in your hands. "Aaaaaaa.. How long have you been standing there?" You asked, footsteps approaching you from behind as his arms wrap around your waist. "For a while." He hums, chuckling at your fluster as you both stood there in a comforting silence.

GEPARD always noticed how you stared at his uniform / armor in utter confusion, how he survives in something seemingly so heavy with how much he fights and moves.

So once he caught you in his room, staring at the mirror with a baffled expression as you messily wore his armor. "Soft.." You say, but your expression gives off 'How the fuck is it comfortable.' vibes.

A smile forms at his lips, amused at your confusion as he watches you do a small 360° only to realize how easy it was to move in what you thought was an inconvenient choice to look good in the battlefield. "I told you." You jolt in surprise at the voice in the room, not realizing he had already caught you. "Well.. curiosity got the best of me.." You say sheepishly, embarrassed that you've been caught red handed.

"So? Comfortable?"

"Very."

"I know, now take it off so I can go to work."

":("

With how busy BLADE is, it's no surprise how his mind is clouded with saddened thoughts whenever he comes back to you asleep alone in a shared bed.

One day, late at night, it's the usual when he comes home. Theres a dish left out for him as you knew well he rarely ate, clothes cleanly folded on the couch for him to change into and the house painfully silent instead of hearing the comfort of your laughter.

He eats the food, changes his clothes and turns off the lights you left on for him as he walks towards your bedroom. Once he closes the door, his eyes adjusted to the darkness as he notices how you cling onto a pillow, a stinging pain to his chest at the sight.

He walks to his side of the bed, about to sneak into bed when he notices something unfamiliar. Your clothes seemed.. different, it could've been the darkness, but once his fingers graze the fabric he could no doubt assume you were wearing his coat.

Blade's chest feels heavy, to a point its weight is impossible to bear, he pulls you by the waist to make you as close as possible to him. He'll whisper small apologies as you sleep, kissing your head and if he could promise that he'd stay here forever, he would. But he can't, so he'll settle for this moment for now until there is a day he can.

[gothicminxx]

Satosugu x afab! Reader

Word count: 5.2K

CW: Angst with comfort, mentions of blood, major character death, polyamory, mentions of established relationship with Gojo, pet names (angel, pretty girl, my girl, sweet girl, etc.), instead of Y/N Name will be used instead, all around sad af

Part 2 here

Summary: Has a connection to the movie JJK 0, similar but not quite.

I think of Satosugu and I sob.

Hope you enjoy!

Twilight arrived over the horizon, painting the sky of soft purples mixed with pink and blue. Mountain tops capped off with sheets of white that sparkled underneath the setting sun. Silence loomed overhead with the subtle sounds of a breeze, the air crisp with a harsh bite. The grass is glacial from the previous snowfall a few hours ago.

But the world was covered in darkness as the giant hand that pertained to Satoru lay flatly over your eyes, sitting in between his legs on a rock. A habit that he had formed in recent years to mollify the bitter head of anxiety that crippled your body. When the thoughts began to race and the hammering of your heart refused to disperse from your side, Satoru placed his hand over your eyes. The rasp of his voice tickled your ear as he requested you focus, following his deep breaths, and hushed praises for succeeding. When the dark silence consumed the crevices of your brain it pacified the cavernous void that Suguru left behind. The reason for every apprehensive thought that consumed the confinements of your brain. A gaping hole resided in the depths of your pumping heart, one he had overfilled before-- a spilling pool of red wine: warm, gentle, and welcoming, the essence of pertaining to two lovers.

Satoru shared the absence of light with you simply by covering your eyes. He wore blindfolds to protect his six eyes, to keep the core of his energy balanced so as to not fatigue himself, he experienced the bliss of darkness daily listening to the calmness of his breath, the steadiness of his heart, and the sounds of his surroundings. It was peaceful when things seemed to spiral out of control, tensions at an all time high giving Satoru that moment to ease his mind. It was the only thing he could think to do to alleviate the strain of life that gnawed at you constantly like a tender cut of meat.

The coolness of this year's harsh winter stung your cheeks, penetrating at the surface to numb your whole face. You placed your hands on top of Satoru’s, holding it in place to increase the darkness, focusing on the environment you found yourself in. Snow that the wind carried tickled your skin, dampening it slightly as the flakes melted. The comfort of your puffy jacket and beanie kept you toasty to endure the frozen conditions, but in this very moment the cold brought you solace as you embraced the blackness. You could feel the warmth of Satoru’s chest radiate into your back like a warm blanket, the breeze that blew on the side of your face howled softly, swooshing of powdered snowflakes followed. The plateau you and Satoru sat in was desolate of noise, it calmed the erratic beat of your heart and soothed the harrowing thoughts in your mind.

Since Suguru’s impetuous departure from the both of you things had been difficult, words left unsaid with various questions that had gone unanswered. An empty spot on the bed that used to belong to him had now turned cold and desperately clung onto his scent, you and Satoru had found yourselves leaving that space open, as if he’d ever walk through the front door again and reclaim the life he once had. His hoodies still hung up in the closet, his toothbrush still had a spot in the holder, boxes of his favorite tea littered the cabinet-- you preferred coffee, and Satoru liked soda. Suguru’s things were left untouched in your home, things he left behind, and things you and Satoru held onto tightly; protecting the last bit of residue on those items.

Satoru snaked his free arm around, pressing his palm flatly against your abdomen, fingertips caressing the polyester fabric of the puffer jacket that adorned your frame. He gently removed his hand from your eyes as he felt you relax in his hold, leaning forward to rest his chin against your shoulder. The world had come back into your view, the sky had become a darker shade of blue accompanied by a few stars that twinkled. The sun had fully hid behind the snowy mountain range taking away the last bit of warmth it had offered in the winter months. Satoru had insisted on taking you far from the city today despite the ice on the roads, the sunken bags underneath your eyes had prompted worry that he could not ignore. You were the only thing keeping him sane since Suguru had left, Satoru had grown petrified of losing you too. He could sense the ugly cloud of melancholy looming over your head, the way you slouched at the kitchen table-- barely touching the food on your plate, a frown etched on your lips, and tears left to dry on your cheeks. The way you stared at Suguru’s spot in bed wearing one of his hoodies, the yearning and agony you felt all too evident to him that he had to get you away from home for a few hours.

He had always been better at tucking away his emotions so as to not worry you. But Satoru felt the same agony, the cavernous hole in his heart that felt as though a knife had stabbed through and ripped a chunk out. The bile that burned the back of his throat and left a bitter taste that it didn’t matter how many times he brushed his teeth; it remained. That each time he smelled Jasmine or cedar wood he immediately burst into tears, teeth piercing his bottom lip as he tried to mollify the dreary emotions that raked his body. Oftentimes he found himself wearing Suguru’s clothes, wrapping his arms around his own body and pretending as though it was Suguru comforting him. Satoru grieved the relationship that once was, in silence, wanting to be strong for you, the most precious thing in his life. You needed Satoru more than anything in moments where you barely found the strength to get out of bed. When anxiety consumed you like the last meal on earth, he had to be strong for you.

Placing a kiss to your cold cheek Satoru hummed, “You calm now, angel?” He held you tighter in his embrace, shutting his eyes to engrave every curve of your body, the warmth you provided as you sat in between his legs, and your scent. The trepidation he felt of losing you too was one that made him lose his appetite.

Leaning your head back on his shoulder, your eyes followed the depth of the night sky, each star glimmering like a diamond. With the darkness the cold in the plateau stung your face, your nose runny and icy to the touch, but you could only focus on Satoru’s arms, “Yes, shutting out the world always seems to help,” A small smile reached your lips, “Thank you.”

Intertwining your gloved hands together he brought the back to his lips placing a kiss there making your heart flutter. Since Suguru deserted his lovers, through the agony and stabbing wound in one's heart, you still had Satoru. The six eyes refused to leave your side even for a moment, clinging onto you as a sort of life support.

The anguish was evident in his cerulean eyes, deep purple bags had found their home under his eyes, hidden under a blindfold so as to not worry his students— to worry you. Even if a part of his heart clung onto the memory of Suguru, the rest was yours. Glowing sun of warmth that caressed his cheek, holding him tightly to always feel the ardor of your heart. Lulling the anxiety he felt with lingering kisses, fingers tangled in snowy white tuffs, and the sound of your sweet voice covered in honey— speaking saccharine words.

Even if he tried to hide from you, keeping his emotions tucked away in a metal safe— you knew, of course you saw right through him. Having the privilege of meeting Satoru Gojo years ago meant understanding every single emotion he felt. A strong intuition to sense when something was off, he never truly spoke about it, only on the rare occasion of dawn drawing near, his eyes half lidded, and voice coaxed of sleep that he spoke— tired of the torment of a racing mind. You would hold him tightly in your arms, resting your chin on his hair as he sobbed into your chest, allowing his emotions to ripple like a waterfall. He was yours, you wanted to be there as much as he was there for you.

His giant hand cupped your cheek, leading your lips to his. The kiss was gentle, slow, and filled with love, Satoru’s tongue was warm as it found yours, eager to taste more of you to have more of you— he couldn’t get enough. He held you tight, pressing against your abdomen as it bunched up the polyester fabric in between his fingers. His thumb caressing your cheekbone, kissing you was a piece of heaven; Satoru’s sanctuary. The way his lips connected to yours reminded him that you were perfect for him in every sense of the way. That you were still here with him.

Satoru pulled away, resting his forehead against yours to catch his breath. His eyes remained closed but a goofy smile was ever present, his heart thudding loudly he truly believed you could hear it, light pink dusted his pale skin, “My girl. Mine.” He murmured, attaching his lips to yours once more.

It was moments like these that you truly cherished, engraving his every word into your brain like a chanted prayer. Satoru was here to stay, he could not imagine parting from you; it wasn’t possible.

Together you grieved Suguru, the fallen angel that had big aspirations of changing the world for the better. Ideals that you could not see eye to eye on, the raven haired man swore up and down it was a world for his lovers. Even if it seemed selfish at the time he would burn down the entire world for you and Satoru. If it had meant taking the life of the innocent— the weak, for those he loved, he’d do it over and over again. But the question had always remained: Would either of you do the same?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The sun blazed down on the asphalt in a persistent manner, the heat waves radiated off of the dark pavement that burned the soles of shoes. Summer was unforgiving this year, humid and sickly that shade did little to provide an escape. The metal bleachers burned to the touch from constant heat smacking against them, the grass seemed as the only comforting place to sit underneath a Japanese cedar tree. Strands of green sticking to your thighs that you regretted wearing a skirt, almost.

First grade Jujutsu students practiced their combat skill in the enormous field, sweat dripping down their faces after an hour of intense training. The new student Yuta Okkotsu showed promise— improving his cursed energy little by little. Satoru had taken a liking to him, a powerful curse that followed him around— killing those that harmed him without a second glance. Your husband had a soft spot for teenagers that had a tough life, a man that could come off as arrogant had a huge heart. A few weeks ago Satoru had come to you, announcing he would be pleading Yuta’s case to avoid an execution even if it meant losing his job. You could never argue with him, standing next to him as you petitioned for the young boy as well.

Training had gone as any other day, students complaining about the heat but refusing to go inside— each competitive. Satoru stood with Yaga on the far end of the field coaching Maki and Yuta, while you and Shoko sat under a tree watching over Toge and Panda. The smell of tobacco wafted into your nostrils as Shoko lit up another cigarette, stating it would help with her irritation as she wiped sweat from her brow. Your fingers found the roots of grass to slowly pick at it, a distraction from the unbearable heat that made your body feel as if it would combust into flames.

Leaning back on your elbows you sighed loudly, throwing your head back further into the shade to look at the intricate leaves— hiding from the wretched sun. “How much longer are we going to torture the students in this goddamn heat?” Shoko groaned beside you.

“‘Dunno, until one of us drives Yaga up the wall with our complaining.” You chuckled, “Knowing Satoru I’d say soon.”

Due to Satoru being born in the winter season the six eyes preferred the cold and icy snow over the blistering heat. He thrived at the first snowfall, dragging you out of the warmth of your cozy bed to admire the sheet of white. His long legs would race to the backyard without the proper clothing to handle the freezing temperatures, slender fingers grabbing a handful of snow to feel the cool softness on his flesh. He’d spend a few hours outside admiring it with childlike wonder, you would oftentimes fight him to come inside as if he were a husky— stubborn and flourishing in the snow. It wouldn’t surprise you if your husband was currently throwing a fit about the sweltering heat to Yaga.

Booming voices ricocheted from the trees in the field, snapping you out of your thoughts. Shoko’s ears perched giving you a confused glance as she licked her finger to put out her cigarette, “What could that be?” She wondered.

Together you stood, requesting Toge and Panda to follow along in case it happened to be something serious. Sweat decorated your brow as the impending heat found you, raising the temperature within the confinements of your body. In the distance a large bird bigger than a human flapped its wings, the radiant golden color catching in the sun, throwing its head back to emit a loud squawk from its enormous beak. Bodies of students surrounded the creature, tuffs of milky white hair came into view as his tall lanky figure pushed past bodies. From where you walked you could see the tension in his shoulders, jaw clenched, and fists white-- something was wrong.

The length of your legs began to take lager hurried strides, loud pounding rang in your ears from the erratic beating of your heart. Heads turned as you drew closer, wandering eyes with a look of confusion stared back at you, “Satoru, long time no see!” A silky voice called, sweet like honey, a soft melody to listen to. A voice that closed up your throat, heart dropping to the depths of your stomach, eyes stinging with ocean water because it had been so long since you had heard it. The voice that comforted you when a tough day crossed your path, made you laugh until you cried, talked you through it in moments of ecstasy, and spoke sweet nothings to you.

As you pushed your way into the circle Satoru stood taut, a white blindfold covered his cerulean eyes, expression hard to read but his tight jaw spoke for him. You followed his gaze, time had frozen still as long raven hair met your eyes, glistening in the light of the sun. A smile adorned his features as he greeted Satoru with an arm around Yuta’s shoulder, he had yet to notice you. It had been nearly a decade since you had seen the familiar face, had him in close radius. “Suguru?” Your voice barely above a whisper, cracking pathetically towards the end.

His attention drifted towards you, “Name, it’s been a while.” The smile he wore faded the moment brown eyes truly caught a glimpse of you, the sight nearly broke his heart. You looked on the verge of tears, the yearning to run into his arms was evident as your hand blindly reached out-- but you held back, taking a hold of Satoru’s sleeve too paralyzed to move. The white haired man placed a protective arm on your waist as if to challenge Suguru to take a step further to either of you. But in truth Satoru would break down if given the opportunity, trying his best to remain strong, to come off as intimidating to the man that ripped his heart open; you both knew this.

“Step away from those kids right now, Suguru.” Satoru’s voice held a stern edge, the man in front of him was the only one that could affect the usual confident demeanor he had.

Suguru held back a smirk as he slowly removed his arm from Yuta, “ I heard the first years were quite special, it seems you still have an eye for talent, Satoru.”

Your gaze was fixed on the raven haired man, it felt like a sick joke, one that your mind deemed fit as a punishment for past mistakes you had once made. He looked different than before, his hair was much longer, reaching his waist. The purple eye bags and look of misery that had become a part of him almost a decade ago had disappeared, his skin practically glowing, he looked happier-- cockier than the man you once knew. You wanted to be as calm as Satoru, to appear stoic and un-bothered but the air felt heavy, the lump in your throat had formed so thick that it was nearly impossible to swallow back. For a decade you still found yourself grieving his sudden departure, the closure he had refused to give you and Satoru, leaving nothing behind but memories and a freezing empty spot in bed. “What are you doing here?” You asked, voice hostile yet the sense of longing was still there.

He tore his gaze from Satoru avoiding your watery eyes over to his entourage, “I came to declare war,” Suguru put it simply, “Five days from now I’ll be in Kyoto, I hope to see you all there.”

“A war?” Shoko scoffed, “Your ideals truly have gone to your head.”

“I’m simply creating a better world.” Suguru’s words left a bitter taste in your mouth, like rusty metal that had sat out in the sun long forgotten for an extended period of time. He no longer sounded like himself, his voice remained velvety and yet, the disconnect of the man he used to be was immense. It had brought you back to the time you were once a student, noticing his distant demeanor with hazy eyes that he looked unrecognizable. He closed in on himself, shutting you and Satoru out. Most nights had been spent sleeping on the couch or too wired as he stayed up an entire night frantically scribbling gibberish in his journal-- ideas to cleanse the world of the weak. He refused the assistance of the comforting arms of his lovers, rejecting their words of reassurance. Suguru had lost a drastic amount of weight, the churning of his stomach accompanied by a burning in his throat that kept him away from consuming food. He had become a shell of himself until one day his radio silence became permanent; leaving his lovers to fend for themselves without another word.

Only for him to return months later in the crowded square of downtown Tokyo claiming that it was all for his lovers. The world he was creating was the perfect one for those he cared about, asking to accompany him in the journey of discovering it together, only to be met by your tears and Satoru’s anger. It was the irreparable end of a relationship.

Biting your bottom lip harshly, you could taste the tang of metallic blood on your tongue, holding Satoru’s sleeve tighter, only for the milky haired man to search for your hand to intertwine your fingers-- squeezing it tightly, he could feel your agony, resentment, and pining. Focusing on his features, you wanted to burn them into your memory, hold them close to your heart because you would be damned if you forgot his face, “I think it’s time for you to go, Suguru.” You muttered, digging your nails into the palm of your hand imprinting crescent moons in the flesh; fighting back the tears that threatened to spill as you urged the man that still owned half of your heart to go.

Silence loomed overhead as Suguru processed the words that escaped your lips; soft that he almost missed them, how desperately he wanted to ignore them to take you and Satoru in his arms and make things better. The version of him you had known before was gone, that man was no longer a part of who he truly was, the weak and strong simply could not co-exist. Why couldn’t either of you understand that for his own selfish reasons, this was all for you? He turned on his heel, sauntering over to the enormous bird, only turning his head enough to catch a glimpse of the two people he adored the most, “I’ll see you in Kyoto. Until next time.” With that the creature expanded its wings, descending in the air with the man that still held onto your hearts.

Satoru watched as the massive bird disappeared into nothingness, the stitches in his heart that had once existed ripped open-- crimson blood gushing out, the ache unbearable. Holding your smaller hand tightly he began to walk toward the direction of his classroom, a small sob escaped your lips before you tried your best to hide it but he had heard it. The tall man stopped, only to see your pretty face covered in fat tears with quivering lips as you tried to fight off dramatic sobs. “Oh, my sweet girl.” Satoru cooed, bending down to envelope you in his arms. His large hand cupped the back of your head, stroking your hair as he held you tightly. He buried his nose in your hair, a small tear falling from his own eye but he was quick to wipe it.

“I- I miss him,‘Toru,” You choked out,“So much.”

“Me too, angel, me too.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩

Dark gray clouds covered the sky, leaving Kyoto in complete darkness. The sounds of war engulfed the city with crumbling buildings, destroyed vehicles, and thick clouds of smoke from small fires that had started. The perfect distraction Suguru had created to get to Yuta, it hadn’t registered in your minds that it had been his plan to get everyone away from the vicinity of Jujutsu High School.

You stood in a medical building to assist in healing those injured alongside Shoko, gifted the same ability of reversed curse technique with the upper hand of bringing those back from the dead on rare occasions. A skill you had spent most of your life trying to achieve, it had only been possible with the help of Tengen and Satoru. The consequences of cheating death had yet to show themselves to you, bringing back countless from watery graves— a draining task that consumed most of your cursed energy for a few days, it wasn’t used often.

Crouching over a severely injured fourth grade student the grand glass door of the building opened, as footsteps scrambled to deliver another injured student you felt the familiar cursed energy of your husband. “I have to go back to Jujutsu High, he set this whole thing up. Suguru is after Yuta.” He stated, gritting his teeth.

“I’m coming with you.” The urgency in your voice was hard to miss.

Satoru could only shake his head, holding his hand up to stop you from coming any closer to him, “No, it’s too dangerous, Name. Stay here and treat the wounded.”

He was always overprotective of you, your safety had always been the six eyes priority only growing ten fold the moment Suguru abandoned the both of you. You understood, but at the same time you weren’t weak, classified as a special grade two weeks after attending school. Training day in and day out when it came to combat, craving to be as perfect as Satoru and Suguru— the two strongest sorcerers. “I don’t care! I’m going with you and that’s final.” You had always been stubborn, constantly standing your ground and refusing any form of rejection when it came to proving yourself. It was a trait Satoru adored about you, but oftentimes it drove him crazy with worry, he knew you were strong but you were the last person he had besides Megumi.

Determination painted your features, clenching your fists at your side to show Satoru you weren’t going to give up. He couldn’t argue with his beautiful wife, especially with the way you looked at him as if you would follow him to the ends of the Earth. “So stubborn.” He huffed, taking your hand before teleporting the both of you to Jujutsu High.

It was silent the moment you arrived on campus grounds the smell of burnt wood wafted in the air as you walked hand in hand. A knot formed in your gut as if it were signaling you that something had gone terribly wrong, it made you tighten your hold on Satoru’s hand. The silence was deafening as the residue of a previous battle remained in the air and grubble of buildings.

Turning the corner of vacant buildings, you could see a figure in the distance covered in crimson liquid, missing a limb, long raven hair a disheveled mess as his signature bun had come undone, “You guys are late as usual.” Suguru weakly chuckled, clutching his side.

“The students in Kyoto were under your control?” Satoru asked, though he held no confusion, you both knew the answer.

Suguru leaned back on a cement wall letting out a ragged breath, “Yes, they all were.”

Letting go of Satoru’s hand you couldn’t care less about the things Suguru had done, the misery he caused when he disappeared, or even those he hurt. Your vision became blurry with tears as you took in his condition, bloodied and bruised as he struggled to maintain a steady breath. You could not bear to listen to much more, this time you had allowed yourself to run to Suguru as you had longed since seeing him on school grounds five days ago. Not giving Satoru a moment to think as he watches your figure bolt for the raven haired man.

Kneeling in front of him your arms wrapped around his neck bringing his body close to yours, without hesitation he wrapped his arm around your waist burying his bloodied face in your neck. The smell of jasmine and cedarwood welcomed you, the scent that had always belonged to him, the one that caused a sob to escape your lips. “You idiot.” You cried into his hair, clutching him tightly, afraid to let go and discover that he was a figment of your imagination.

You were warm, skin silky soft— he had forgotten how good it felt to have you in his arms, if he was being honest with himself he had forgotten your scent, how sweet and delicate it was. “There’s my sweet girl.” Suguru croaked, after a decade of pushing away the hurt he caused himself for leaving, was finally flooding out. Trembling as he hugged you tightly, burning your scent, curves, and hair into his memory. A treasure he’d lock up and guard with his entire being.

“I can fix it, let me fix it… let me heal you.” You begged, cupping his cheeks, blood staining your hands.

“Name, you can’t.” Satoru whispered, tilting his head down.

“What?! No, I'm going to fix h-“

Before you could finish your sentence Suguru took your hand, placing a kiss to the back of it, “It’s for the best, angel.”

You shook your head frantically, sobbing loudly as you looked between Satoru and Suguru, begging to not allow it to end this way. Burying your face in Suguru’s neck, closing your eyes as if to wish to wake up from this nightmare. To wake in your huge bed with them on either side of you, each wrapped around you as they slept soundly. The harsh cold breeze flowing in through your window as it snowed outside, dreading the moment Satoru woke up because he’d drag the two of you outside. Wanting a life back that once was, when Suguru was content with the things he had, when the two of you were enough for him, just one more time.

Suguru grabbed your hand, swaying your two bodies together. Noticing the rays of sunshine bouncing off of a rather large diamond on your finger nearly blinding him, he took a moment to admire it, chuckling bitterly as a wave of jealousy flooded over him. “My love’s got married.” Suguru could only blame himself for abandoning you both, envious he wouldn’t be able to share the Gojo last name with the both of you. A part of him was truly happy for you two, moving on after his selfish act. It wouldn’t have been fair to request either of you to remain stagnant.

“In October two years ago.” Satoru smiled sadly, twiddling with the diamond band on his ring finger. Proud to call you his wife, to be the one to take care of you and cherish moments spent together. It hurt that Suguru couldn’t be a part of it.

“I can fix you… then… then we can try to mend everything. Sugu please.” You choked.

But the decision had been made for you, the conclusion that Suguru was on death’s doorstep had become destiny in the moment. Your pleas and cries went unanswered even if it pained both of the men to cause such agony for you. In the end Suguru no longer had the ability to change, too stuck in his ideals to let them go. “I still love you.” You weeped.

Suguru’s heart sank at your words, even after the crimes he had commited and the torture he had put you through your emotions remained in tact, “I love you too.” The raven haired man kisses your temple, “and I love you, ‘Toru.”

A few tears had finally escaped his cerulean eyes, “I love you too… I’m sorry.”

A flash of purple came into your peripheral vision, the ringing in your ears was painful. Time had slowed as Suguru’s muscular body fell limp in your arms, the look of horror on your face was one that Satoru would remember forever. A loud scream erupted from your lungs that it felt as though they’d rip open at the seams, oxygen became impossible to inhale as you wailed out to the sky clutching his lifeless body in your arms. “No! No, ‘Toru… no. Suguru please,” The only thing you could muster was to beg and wail, preparing to use the entirety of your cursed energy to bring back your dead lover.

But Satoru pulled you away before you could do anything, holding your flailing body in his arms as he howled alongside you. He would hold onto this guilt for the rest of his life, ripping Suguru away from your lives as he meant nothing when he was everything would tear him to shreds. Suguru had perished by his own hands, he felt like a monster. All he could do was throw you over his shoulder and listen to the heart wrenching wails that left you as he dragged you away from Suguru.

He’d never forgive himself.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[pablitogavii]

Arguance

Summary:

Warnings: angst to fluff (happy end I promise :)

"You're being impossible right now!!" Pablo was screaming as we stood across from each other in our shared apartment just screaming at each other for the past fifteen minutes.

"Me!? I'm being fucking impossible right now!? Who was late to date night!? Again!" you said really annoyed that you had to wait for him for a whole hour all dolled up and ready to go and not the first time too.

"I was training! I told you already! And you're acting like I was fucking some other girl! You're so freaking complicated!" he said and I was fuming mad that he was gaslighting me when he was clearly the one who messed up. But God forbids Pablo Gavi apologizes!

"Well then go and find an easy girl!" you screamed clearly not meaning it but he was done wit this argument grabbing his jacket from the couch when you said that.

"Maybe I will do just that!" he said leaving the apartment and you shocked as you started taking off the dress and heels you wore for tonight tossing them into the closet angrily. What an asshole!

Pablo called Pedri the moment he got into his car asking him to meet at the bar which the boy agreed knowing it must have been something serious if Pablo wanted to spend date night with him instead.

"I fucking love her man! And I know I was late...and not first time too..but..but I do love her..and I know I'm a horrible boyfriend..alright..I get it!" I was talking more to myself after the fourth whiskey and Pedri told the bartender not to give me any more tonight.

"It was just an argument, hermano..it's normal for a relationship..and you will have many more together..but you love each other, so let me take you home to your girl huh?" Pedri helped him stand up and walk to the car but when he opened the passenger seat door Pablo stopped turning to tell him something.

"She's going to leave my pathetic ass hermano.." Pablo said with tears collecting in his eyes..he knew he fucked up with that last sentence obviously not meaning it at all. He didn't want an easy girl..hell he didn't want any girl that wasn't you!

"No, she won't..come on, get in!" Pedri spoke trying to get him inside but Pablo still wouldn't budge.

"I said I was gonna find an easy girl.."Pablo said looking guilty at his friend who only chuckled.

"She knows you just as well as I and we both know how obsessed you are with your girlfriend..I am sure she didn't take it serious..now come on! Let's go home!" Pedri said finally getting Pablo into the car and driving him home.

When they knocked on the door, you were already half asleep on the sofa determined not to go to bed until Pablo makes it back home. Part of you wanted to yell in his face and other part just wanted to hug him and know he was safe. No matter what, you still loved him..you always will.

"I'm leaving him with you..my job here is done" Pedri said as you helped Pablo into the apartment. He was clearly wasted and smelled strongly of whiskey.

"Thanks for driving him" you said before Pedri left and you locked the door walking towards the bathroom.

"Let's take a shower..you stink!" you said taking off his hoodie while he just leaned onto the sink watching you take care of him. He was in awe and had nothing left to say..he was too drunk to apologize now and what if it was too late?

"Only if you take it with me.." he spoke and you looked up at him knowing it would take too long to change his mind so you took your clothes off getting into the shower with him.

"Here is the body wash" you say pouring some into his hands and your own as you rubbed it into his skin trying your best to remain mad and cold. He needed to know what he said hurt your feelings.

"Is that your body wash?" he said and you nodded being to lazy to grab his from the other side.

"Now I smell like you!" he giggled and fought an urge to laugh as well but instead you helped him wash off the body was ready to step out but he pulled you back.

"I'm a big cabrón....biggest cabrón in the world!" he spoke raising your chin up about to kiss you but you moved away making him kiss your cheek instead.

"P..please...just one more time..please" he half moaned turning your head around and when his lips captured your you couldn't help your hands going to his hair and deepening the kiss while his roamed your body. You pulled away suddenly.

"I'm sorry.." he said and you sighed feeling your head hurt as you stepped out and helped him dry out before wearing some boxers to bed.

"It's late..we should sleep Pablo" you said helping him lay down before going to your side and slipping under the covers as well. Uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"I'm sorry amor..." Pablo broke the silence not able to fall asleep without holding you like always terrified that he will never get to hold you like that again.

"We should talk in the morning..when I'm not so tired..and you're not so drunk" you answered and he nodded knowing you were right. You turned your back to him trying to sleep but neither of you could sleep like this. It felt wrong..foreign..awful to be so close and not be able to touch.

"Please..can I hold you..I won't do anything else..I promise..I just need to hold you to fall asleep" Pablo moved closer whispering to you and you nodded your head feeling his strong arm wrap around your middle and pull you back against him. And you fell asleep like that.

The next morning, you were in the kitchen making some breakfast when you heard him groaning as he walked form the bedroom. Yeah, whiskey hangovers are the wrost!

He came closer hugging you from behind and you sighed turning off the stove before turning around in his hold to look into his eyes.

"I left you a pill at the nightstand, you take it??" you asked moving his hair from his forehead and he nodded looking down at your lips longingly. You could tell he wanted to kiss you badly without him having to say it out loud.

"How did finding an easier girl go??" you said hearing him sigh and look down while his figners drew invisible shaped on your hips.

"You know I didn't mean that amor..I was stupid and angry..and I went to the bar with Pedri basically crying over you for hours..I know it's pathetic..but if you leave me..I..." he started to mumble nonsense when you went on your tip toes and kissed him lips to shut him up and that took him by surprise.

"You won't get rid of me that easily Gavira.." you whisper into his lips and he hugs you tightly resting his face into your neck and leaving a few wet kisses on your skin.

"Thank God! I'm sorry..so sorry amor..for being late for date night..and for everything I said afterwards" he said while holding you and you ran your fingers through his hair soothingly.

"It's alright cariño..I was a little harsh too..you were training and I was very needy" you said realizing your own part in the argument but Pablo shook his head kissing the top of your head lovingly.

"You're not needy..you just missed me and I missed you...believe me I did..and I promise for the next date night to surprise you with something you'll love very much" Pablo spoke and you smiled nodding your head and laying your head on his chest.

"Mm I hope it's something I will REALLY love.." you smirked while your hand went to his abs and he took the hint smirking to himself.

"I can give you that right now preciosa.."he whispered into your ear as his hands went to your ass and he squeezed making you giggle and kiss him back passionately. He raised you in his arms carrying you back to the bedroom when you realized.

"What about breakfast cariño??" you said when he laid you on bed and tarted pulling down your pajama shorts.

"My breakfast is served princesa.." he smirked and you blushed bright red closing your eyes in pleasure as he started kissing up your thighs..;)

I hope you like the story :)

[hobbit-historian]

Prompt: “you’re shivering. Here, take my jacket.”

Character: Simon “Ghost” Riley

Warnings: none really, fluffy, tooth rotting sweetness. Not as proof read as it should be.

Y/N sat outside, feet dangling over the edge of the balcony, eyes to the sky. She sighed. Night time seemed to be the only time for peace lately. Mission after mission she had gone on with the 141st.

Price had extended the invite a couple months ago.

She had said yes.

Never would she have imagined that it would’ve kept her this busy. But for the time she lost she gained a family much tighter than she had ever expected.

So when she took a minute to catch her breath and stargaze, it’s no wonder that one found her outside.

“Stars talkin to ya, lovie?”

Y/N clicked her tongue. “They stopped talking as soon as you got here, Ghost.”

She lowered her gaze from the heavens but didn’t turn to look behind her - if Ghost didn’t have his balaclava on, she didn’t want to invade his privacy. From day one, even while they had been fighting, she had respected his privacy. It wouldn’t change now.

The balcony quivered as Ghost traipsed across it. It shuddered ever so slightly as he sat next to her. Y/N kept her gaze on her feet. She smiled; they were clad in only a pair of fuzzy blue socks.

“Look at me, Y/N. Tell me what they say.”

Slowly, her gaze crept up to Ghost’s. He wore his traditional black hoodie and skull mask. His brown eyes were calm, steady.

Y/N felt her shoulders relax. She needn’t worry about making sure she didn’t accidentally see Ghost’s face.

Once their eyes clicked, a tingle shot up Y/N’s spine.

She tore her gaze away quickly, wondering if Ghost had felt that too.

“They don’t say anything. They’re quiet. Unlike the rest of the 141st.”

Ghost let out a chuckle. “Tell me about it,” he grumbled. “Nobody shuts up around this place.” He shot a glance at Y/N. “You’re included in that.”

She feigned hurt, placing a hand over her heart. “Simon Riley. Why I never. One would assume that I talked nonstop with that kind of talk.”

He said nothing, but the corners of his eyes wrinkled.

“I see that smile, Ghostie. Looks good on you.”

Ghost snorted. “Don’t call me that.”

Y/N shoved his shoulder. “Shut up. You know you like it.”

Both sat in a comfortable silence as they turned their gaze up towards the stars. Y/N breathed in deeply. She could feel the starlight shining down on her. She drank it in, breathed it out.

Inhale,

Exhale.

In,

Out.

Ghost shifted next to her, but Y/N let him be.

She was focused on the stars and the peace they offered. Y/N closed her eyes but kept her face turned up. As her breathing slowed, she could feel her heartbeat strengthen. This, this is what she needed.

A wind sprang up and swept her hair across her face, but she paid no mind to it. She focused instead on the leaves rustling in the trees and the grass whispering beneath her.

But as the wind continued, it picked up intensity. It brought a shiver to her skin.

She cracked her eyes open and looked down at her treacherous skin. Goosebumps pocked her arms.

Y/N tried to shove that off and focus back on the stars, but the cold was seeping deeper into her.

The shivering didn’t stop.

“You’re shivering.”

Leave it to Ghost to state the obvious.

“Yes, L.T. I am.”

She finally swung her gaze away from the stars around to face her friend.

He was already staring at her.

Not at her eyes, but down at her arm, which was still trembling.

Her eyes remained fixed on his face, however.

At how soft his gaze was.

At how worried he seemed to be at her shivering.

At how his hands twitched as he restrained himself from taking her arms in his hands to try and share his warmth.

“Simon?” She whispered his name, his government name strange on her lips.

“Look forward, Y/N.”

She did as he asked, confused.

Ghost stood, hovering just behind her. There was a rustling noise and then something big, black, and heavy landed in her lap.

“Here. Take my jacket.”

She stared, astonished.

“Simon, I…”

“Stay out here, enjoy the quiet. You can give it back in the morning.” With that, he walked off, the balcony conveying each step he took.

She knew he was gone when the wood was finally silent and the silence felt heavy.

Y/N looked down at the hoodie in her hands. There was a lingering warmth from Ghost. She slipped it on, unsurprised when it swallowed her up.

Y/N inhaled.

It smelled like Simon, clove and sandalwood and cinnamon.

A smile crept on her lips as she looked back up at the stars. She leaned back until her back was resting flat on the balcony.

Inhale, exhale.

In, out.

Peace.

And warmth.

“Thanks Simon,” she muttered as she closed her eyes and breathed in the night.

She could’ve sworn she heard a gruff “you’re welcome,” but maybe that was the breeze through the trees instead

[bubuslutty]

feeding the needy

pairing: moon knight & fem!reader (platonic)

word count: 1.4k

summary: marc is leaving and wants to feed/take care of reader (he doesn't know how to do it like a normal person)

a/n: could be read as a standalone + dear anon, this is for you <3

Today was just like any other day. It was around 4 in the evening and Darling had to walk and take the train and underground to get home. It was also cloudy and wet, the wind blowing tiny droplets of water all over her face when she walked, she didn't know whether that could really be considered rain or not. She didn't even take an umbrella out, probably for the best because she has broken 3 umbrellas so far due to the shitty windy weather. 

She wasn't even wearing a jacket either, because it wasn't particularly cold, in fact, she was sweating under her hoodie. Both the train and underground were very loud, making her ears ring, and because she hated going on public transport with her ears naked, she wore her headphones and blared her music of choice in retaliation. She'd rather suffer from loud music rather than the screeching of the underground and the train. 

By the time she got to her apartment building, her clothes were wet and extremely warm at the same time due to her body heat, her backpack was wet and she prayed the water hadn't seeped inside where her laptop and textbook were. The lift to the flat smelled like bleach, like someone attempted to mop in it, but couldn't get that underlying smell of cigarettes, rust and piss. At least, they tried. The lights were flickering when she got to her floor and walked straight to her door with her keys in her hand. Darling froze when she noticed the plastic bag by her door, one she didn't remember putting out. 

It was a Tesco shopping bag, and when she leaned down and flipped one of the sides open, she was met with a random selection of groceries, like milk, tea, cucumbers, dish soap, sugar, syrup, and other random items. She looked around the empty dim corridor, nobody was there but her. She didn't even order anything online, she's never got her groceries delivered to her place, either. 

She should ask Marc and the boys if they knew something about it. 

Darling grabbed the bag in her other hand and knocked on Steven's door, she heard a few shuffles inside and a voice, “Come in!” She rolled her eyes and pushed the door open, she told them multiple times to lock the door like normal people do, but instead, Marc said something about easy escape, which didn't make sense because a bad guy could come in through his “easy escape” plus there was a window and they can fly??? Whatever.

Closing the door behind her, and locking it, she placed the Tesco bag and her wet backpack on the floor while trying to untie her shoes and talk at the same time, “I found a bag full of groceries in front of my door, did you see anyone– What are you doing?” She said when she realised what they were doing; packing.

Her keys were chucked on the kitchen counter without looking and she walked inside the flat, leaving her wet shoes and bags on the floor by the front door. Darling looked at the opened gym bag on the bed and the clothes all spread out on it. She also quickly noticed the tilt of the man's mouth, the hair pushed back from his forehead and the shirt he was wearing, “Marc, what the hell are you doing?” 

“Packing,” He said without looking up. “I'm leaving for Paris for a couple of days.”

Darling stared at him with her mouth open, “Why?”

“For a job, it shouldn't take long.” 

“Oh,” Darling said and he finally looked up at her, “You look like a rat who crawled up from the sewers.” 

Darling glared at him, “The weather was shit, asshole. And why didn't you tell me you were leaving sooner? Wait– When are you leaving? When are you coming back? “ She quickly asked, trying not to worry or freak out because what if he gets attacked or dies or what if someone shows up looking for him when he isn't there and they hurt her or what if-

“Hey,” Marc placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, frowning with worry. “I'm leaving tomorrow morning and coming back in 2 days.”

“Oh, okay.” Darling nodded, “You said it was for a job…Is it Moon Knight stuff or… “

“No, but maybe Moon Knight will be needed, I hope not, but can't be too sure.” He hummed, rolling t-shirts and shoving them neatly in the bag, military style.

“I've never been to Paris…” Darling mumbled, watching him work in a well-practised manner, hypnotising her in the satisfying way everything looked neat and fit exactly where he wanted it to.

“I'll get you a postcard and a stamp.” He said. 

“Really?” She smiled looking up.

“Just feed Gus. Steven left instructions in a sticky note on the tank.” He said, nodding his head towards the bubbling tank. Her eyes found the tank and swept the flat, landing at the front door and the mysterious grocery bag.

“Oh yeah, do you have any idea about the bag I found in front of my door?” She asked, pointing at it. 

“Emptied out the fridge so things don't go bad.” He explained and Darling was confused. “You're coming back in 2 days, though?”

Marc's hands froze over a pair of socks, his ears turning a little red, “Payment for feeding Gus, then.”

Darling squinted her eyes at the man, not entirely believing him. “Okay… But you are coming back in 2 days, right?”

“That's what I said.” He finally zipped his bag shut and placed it on one of the many tables around Steven's flat. “Because yesterday I had a dream a black dog bit me in the ass. Or a fox, a black one. I don't remember. It had big ears tho-” 

Marc let out a laugh in disbelief, “What does that have to do anything with me?”

“Don't you believe in omens, signs and shit?” 

Marc thought about it for a second and shrugged, “No, not really.”

Darling’s shoulders slumped, “Dude, you're literally Khonshu’s Avatar! And you literally came back from the dead… “

“So?” 

Darling scowled and crossed her arms over her chest, “If anything happens to me or to you, I'm calling Layla AND DuChamp.”

Marc glared at her, “You don't need to bother them, nothing will happen.” 

“Uhm, yeah, okay, sure,” Darling said sarcastically, every time Marc said nothing would happen, something did happen, like that one time he tried to fix her sink instead of calling a professional to do it, and they both ended up drenched from head to toe, trying to explain to the neighbours that nobody was getting murdered but a pipe just burst.

It's not the same as a life-threatening scenario, because the closest Darling has come close to death or danger is when she catches Marc bleeding out in his flat alone in the middle of the night, trying to stitch himself up when Khonshu decides to be a bitch and not heal him immediately, as some sort of cruel punishment. So she ends up cradling his body as much as she can in her clumsy arms, trying her best to wipe away the evidence of his violence and vengeance from his skin.

After Marc finishes packing and tells Darling about all the ways she can protect and save herself if anything is to happen. At the end of the day, she ended up tucked in her bed, a towel wrapped around her wet hair, watching YouTube videos on her laptop. At some point, Darling felt a little peckish and remembered that Marc had given her a full bag of groceries she hadn't even put away yet. So she hurried out of bed to put the milk in the fridge and all the rest where they belonged so they wouldn't get bad. The last item that had to be put away was a small yellow box, with 4 egg custard tarts in it. Darling slowly smiled, warmth and happiness washing over her.

They were the same tarts that were hated by Marc and Jake, because they were too sweet, and “Why the hell would egg be a flavour?”. And Steven just didn't eat them, obviously, because he's vegan. 

Instead of Marc being normal and telling her he bought them for her. He tried to lie and say they were his. Darling laughed in her empty flat and took out a spoon, putting the rest in the fridge and sitting down at the table with one tart. She dug her spoon in the soft yellow middle and scooped it up, wrapping her lips around the sweetness of it. It was delicious and outside the window, the moon was high and bright in the sky. 

[soggyriceee]

helloooo, how are you doing?? i was wondering if you could write a sort of sequel for the fic where price makes reader use the safe word where he is worried he's gonna hurt her again. If you can't its okay though <3 have a nice day/evening wtv byyye <3333

im fine | Captain Price

summary: your feeling needy and begin to try and get Price to touch you, but he cant bring himself to it

warning: female!reader, office sex, praise, oral(f!recieving), needy Price, sir kink

thank you anon for your request, I hope you enjoy <33

it had been about a month since you and Price last had sex. and it was draining you. everything he did felt like a tease to you. he got something on the top of the fridge for you? instantly wet. or he leaned down to hear you speak better? you could drop to your knees and suck him dry then and there. but as much as you yearned for him and his touch, he never initiated anything.

and you knew it was because of the last time you both had sex. he could shake the image of your limp body, your tears. the blood on your body from his own doing. he felt like he had failed you and swore to never let his own needs and lust control him like that again.

but you also never really initiated anything. you would give him small hints, like rubbing your arse onto him when you guys would cuddle. or wearing purposefully tight clothing, or his clothing. all of those things would usually turn him on and make him fuck you then and there. but he did nothing. nothing broke him. he was genuinely scared and worried to touch you. but you had enough. you needed to feel him inside you again.

so, when Price came home from shopping, you had an idea. he almost always goes into his office around the time you began to make dinner, working on paperwork and preparing for whatever mission was coming up, if any. so instead of cooking, you decided you'd seduce him into fucking you. or at least eating your pussy. anything.

" hi my love. I got mostly everything on the list. they were out of the jasmine rice so I got regular old rice. is that okay?" he asked, his accent booming into the kitchen. you turned to him and nodded, taking a second to bask in his handsomeness. he wore a black leather jacket, black pants and his black military boots. on top of his head was a black beanie, adding onto the whole black look. it made your pussy clench immediately, seeing the way he dressed do well in casual clothes.

"love?" he called out, realizing you were starring at him like some sort of meal. you shook your head, smiling up at him. " yes thats fine." you said softly before turning back to place the last dish in the dishwasher. he chuckled softly before walking over, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "ill be in my office." he said before making his way out the kitchen.

when you confirmed he had entered his office, you moved quickly into your shared room, applying a bit of lotion and some perfume to your skin. you wanted to smell perfect for him, seeing as it was one of his turn ons. he loved the perfume you had, especially if it was one he bought for you. so you pulled out your sexiest scent, his favorite scent, Christian Dior. he got it for you on Christmas and you definetly scolded him for spending so much on a small perfume bottle. but you loved it just as much and wore it every night you both had something planned.

you walked over to your mirror, pulling off the large hoodie you had on. underneath was your new pair of black stockings, a pink ribbon on each side of your hip. your underwear matched, black lace as was your bra. you ordered it a week or two back and now that it was finally in, you could go through with your plan.

you cleaned your throat, turning your body a bit to the side to see how your body looked before giving yourself a small smile before grabbing a plain white shirt to cover your upper half. fixing yourself for the umpteenth time, you made your way out into the hallway, and towards his office.

it was a bit nerve wrecking, you had to admit. you were never one to take charge and initiate anything. not this direct at least. it was almost always Price. you had no clue what to do if he did accept and wanted you to top him, or if this doesn’t go as planned and you just embarrass yourself. would this ruin your relationship? or help it? you were sure he was just as needy for you as you were for him. especially with all the subtle teasing you’ve been doing. so why wouldn’t he be?

you were so caught up in the what ifs, you hadn’t realized you were standing directly in front of his office door. you looked at the door, your hand on the knob as you began to re think to yourself if this was a good idea or not. but then, your ears picked up on some noise from inside. like, squelching?

you slowly opened the door, peeking only your head in. your jaw opened in awe when your eyes landed on Price. his bent over figure, head tossed to the side with his eyes closed, mouth slightly agape. he let out the software moans, a few whimpers as his hips moved into what looked like the desk. but that’s when your eyes made out the small curve of an arse, a surprisingly small one at that. “f-fuck love.. g’nna cum soon.. so close” he groaned, moving his hips faster

you quickly realized in his hand was a sex toy. a fleshlight. your hand came over your mouth, the impact of skin to skin loud enough to catch Price’s attention. his eyes shot open, meeting yours immediately. you wanted to cry, confused as to why he was using a toy instead of the real thing. for a moment you thought it was because he simply wasn’t sexually attracted to you anymore.

“l-lovie i-“ he stopped, throwing the toy on the floor and pulling his pants up. but you were already heading out the door, clenching your jaw to hold back the tears. “wait, wait.” his arm reached out from his office in perfect timing to grip onto your wrist, pulling you back inside. but the tears were already dropping one by one from your eyes.

“please listen to me i-“ “are you no longer attracted to me.” you blurted out, your voice trembling from the tears. he remained silent before sighing, rubbing his hands down his face. “i knew that was a bad idea” he mumbled to himself before looking down at you. you couldn’t meet his gaze, you were to hurt and set on you not being up to his standards anymore.

“ i do. i find you so fucking beautiful my love. but i.. i’m scared.” he admitted, taking your hands in his. you looked up at him, confusion more than anger on your face. “ i’m scared of hurting you again. of making you get to the point where you can’t even take care of yourself. it hurt me to see you like that.. i remind myself every time of what i did to you that night whenever i feel like pulling you to the side and fucking you. i bought the doll as a distraction. i’m sorry my love.. i should’ve gone to you.” he said, looking down at you with pleading eyes.

for a moment you remained silent. you had no clue what you were supposed to say to that. you were happy it wasn’t because he didn’t see you as attractive. but also sad that he’s to scared of himself, if hurting you to satisfy his own needs. Price had always put you first no matter what. for once you just wished he’d put himself first too.

“John I.. I’m fine. it was a one time thing. that will never happen again, okay? you got carried away one night it doesn’t dictate our sex life for the rest of our relationship.” you finally said, walking closer into him. he reached out and pulled you into his chest, kissing the top of your head. “ i just can’t see you like that again my love.” he whispered, gripping onto you tighter.

you both stayed like this for a moment until you pulled away, looking up at him. “i got all.. dressed up for you.” you did a small spin, looking back at him to see a smile on his face, his wrinkles at the corner of his eyes making you smile. “i see.. you smell so good too.” he said softly, eyeing you up and down. you giggled and nodded, looking down. “yea i put on the perfume you like. i was hoping it would get you in the mood.” you said softly, your eyes staring at his abdomen.

he was silent for a moment before taking a step closer to you. he grabbed your hand, placing a soft kiss at the top. “what if it’s working?” he asked, looking down at you. a blush was quick to appear across your face, a small giggle leaving you. he smiled down before pulling you over to his desk. he sat in his chair, pulling you down onto his lap. your thighs sat at either side of his lap, your hands on his shoulders.

his hand slid to the side of your face, pulling you into him for a kiss. it was passionate from the start, his tongue sliding in your mouth, sucking your tongue gently before pulling away, making moves to your neck. you gasped softly, tilting your head to the side more as his teeth nibbled at your skin, kissing or licking the same spot. “j-john” you whispered, pulling away from him.

his eyes moved up to yours, worry on his face. “are you okay? did i do anything?” he asked quickly, eyes darting across your face. you smiled and shook your head. “i just.. want to know if this is really what you want..” you said, “if this is what your comfortable doing.” his face and body relaxed, a soft breath coming from his lips. “ yes, my love. this is what i want.. i’ve been craving you for so long.” he said, eyes drifting down your body.

you blushed, looking away from him. “missed touching you like this, feeling your body pressed against mine.” his hips grabbed the curve of your hips, pulling you closer into his chest. your cunt rested perfectly above his bulge, his hips pressing up just a bit. “missed touching you, making you feel good.” his lips found their way back to your neck, his nose breathing in your scent. “fuck.. missed smelling you.” his hips again pressed up into your pussy, a small moan leaving his lips.

your pussy gripped around nothing, yearning for his dick to fill it up. you felt your own wetness every time you shifted in his lap, only making you want him more. his hands worked up the shirt you had on, stopping at the bra. his lips detached from your neck, looking at his hands under your shirt. “is this a new set?” he asked, looking you up and down again. he was so focused on making sure you knew he still was attracted to you, he hadn’t realized the new set you had on.

you smiled and nodded, lifting the shirt for him. he licked his lips quickly before his hands gripped your bra, pulling the cups down. your boobs jumped out, your nipples already hard for him. “so fucking perfect.” he whispered, cupping one in his hand. he leaned forward, taking the other one in his mouth. his tongue traced a circle over your nipple, a soft breathy moan leaving your lips. you hands found the back of his head, your fingers rubbing through his brown hair.

he gently pulled your nipple with his teeth, his hips bucking forward. your head fell back, back arching in his lap as his mouth and fingers worked wonders on your nipples. but he was eager for something other than just your boobs.

“princess..” he mumbled into your chest before pulling away, a string of saliva connecting his lips back to your nipple. “need you to sit on my desk for me. can you do that?” he whispered, his eyes meeting yours. you didn’t hesitate to nod, practically jumping onto the wooden desk. he chuckled as he watched your eager self rest onto his desk, your legs spreading apart.

“missed getting your pussy eaten that much huh?” he joked, dropping to his knees. his hands found the backs of your knees, holding them firmly. “my fingers don’t do enough for me anymore.” you responded, your hands cupping your exposed boob. “i know baby.. but i’m gonna take care of you now, okay?” he said, kissing your inner thigh

you watched as his face disappeared between your legs, his lips pressing a kiss each time he moved closer up to your pussy. his hands remained right behind your knees, pulling you closer into his face. when he got to your cunt, he took one hand and pulled your panties to the side, allowing his nose to press into your clit, a gasp leaving your lips. he chuckled before pressing his lips to your pussy, his tongue moving slowly up between your folds, then back down.

your head fell back as you listened to him suck and lick your cunt. collecting every drop of wetness that came from you. his tongue pressed into your hole slowly, only to drag it back out just as slow. you could tell immediately he was being more gentle with you, more cautious. usually he’d have his fingers in you while his tongue sucked into your clit, fucking his fingers into your hole fast and desperately.

but now, his tongue was doing all the work, giving you soft licks up and down your slit or slow thrusts in and out your hole. you needed more. you needed him to fuck you like he never will be able to again.

you pulled the back of his head gently, whining for his attention. he looked up at you, his nose already shiny with your slick and his own saliva. “are you okay, am i being to rough?” he asked, the grip on your back knees loosening. “no.. if anything your not being rough enough. are you sure you want to do this?” you asked, looking down at him with a serious, stern look.

he sighed before leaning back on the heels of his feet. “i do my love but i can’t put you back in that position. it hurt me and scared me to see you like that. and i know it hurt and scared you even more.” his eyes drifted from your eyes to your knees. you smiled and took his hand, gripping it gently. “it won’t get to that point, i promise. i want to have our regular old sex back.” you said, looking down at him.

his eyes drifted back up to yours, reading your face. “i will be okay. i promise.” his eyes drifted down to your pussy before looking back up at you. “okay.” he nodded before scooting back closer to you. his lips immediately went for your clit, sucking it into his mouth. his ring and middle finger found your home, slowly sliding inside. you gasped above him, your eyes crossing from the double pleasure you just felt.

one hand went back to the back of his head, the other pressing flat in his desk to hold you up. “f-fuck John.. just like that~” you whined, moving your hips against his face. he groaned between your thighs before his fingers moved faster, his tongue circling your clit to match the pace of his fingers. “fuck your so wet” he mumbled against your pussy, scissoring his fingers inside you.

of course, with this amount of pleasure he was giving your pussy, your stomach began to knot and you knew you were close. “j-john i’m c..close” you whined, your thighs pressing harder on either side of his face. “cum on my face baby i know you can do it.. come on” he encouraged, looking up at you as he continued to abuse your pussy.

the sounds were sinful. he was licking and slurping your cunt so well, small groans leaving his own lips every so often. your hand remained on the back of his head, your hips moving in desperation on his face. “that’s it baby.. fuck yourself on my face.” he said, sticking his tongue out into your cunt.

you whined, gripping his hair more. your legs twitched beside him and soon after, the knot in your stomach came undone. your cum completely covered his tongue, some of his dripping down his chin. “fuck yes baby just like that.. fuck” he groaned, pulling you closer into his face.

his tongue lapped up all your cum, the slurping sound filling the room once again. your body gently shook above him, your chest rising and falling quickly. “j-john~” you moaned softly, slowly resting on his desk. his tongue made slow movements up and down your cunt, his head moving in small circles around your clit, following his tongue.

your eyes fluttered close as your came over your high, chest rising and falling slowly. he slowly got to his feet, looking down at you. “tired already?” he asked, patting your hip. you shook your head, peeking your eyes open. “not even a tiny bit.”

he chuckled before leaning down, pressing a kiss to your lips. your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer into you. “need you to fuck me.” you breathed against his lips, looking into his eyes through your lashes. he smiled down at you before he pushed himself up and off you. his hands made quick movements to undo his belt, dropping his pants to his ankles. his hands spread your legs open, your shiny cunt the first thing he sees.

he licked his lips, a small smile spreading on his lips. he grabbed the base of his dick, slapping it on your covered cunt. your fingers dipped down, pulling your drenched panties to the side. again, his tip slapped against your cunt. he watched as your lips ever so slightly shook with each slap he gave them before pressing his tip between your folds. you looked down, watching him play with your pussy. “john..” you whined impatiently, swinging your legs. he chuckled, shaking his head softly.

“so impatient aren’t we?” he said, replacing your hand with his. you smiled with anticipation, watching as his hips slowly moved forward, feeling his tip push into you. a gasp left the both of you simultaneously, a quick glance shared between you both. it was the first time in a month you’d felt something full you up, and he’d felt something real and authentic.

he pushed deeper inside you, stretching your kissy out perfectly around his dick. he groaned, one hand slamming beside your head, the other on your hip. “raise those legs baby come on. wanna fuck into you deep.” he breathed out, nodding towards your legs. instantly you raised them, pressing them to your chest as best you could.

his head fell back, his adams apple bouncing up for a moment. “you .. are you tight.” he groaned, pulling his hips back slowly. he wanted you to feel every inch of him, and he wanted to feel every inch of your warmth. your head fell back, your hands gripping onto his biceps. when he bottomed out inside you, he remained still for a moment.

“feel okay?” he asked, looking down at you. you nodded your head lazily, looking up at him through your lashes. “please.. fuck me.” you whispered, clenching around him. he groaned at the sudden tightness around his length, his head falling to the side. he slid out of you and pushed back inside, finding a pace and rhythm for your you both.

your back laid flat on his desk, your head slightly hanging off the edge. he took your legs and rested them on his shoulders, quickly placing his hands back on your hips. he picked up the speed of his thrusts slowly, hitting deeper inside you with each one. “fuck y-your so deep sir.. feels so good” you cried out, your hands finding the edge of his desk to hold onto.

one thing about John was he loved it when you called him sir. he loved when he had some sort of power over you. not to the point he was controlling of course, but when you’d give up into him, give him complete control and power. man he loved it. “i bet you do love. this pussy so wet for me.” he moaned, gripping your hips harder.

your body jerked up with each thrust he gave, his tip hitting your cervix each time. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth falling open. “ look at you, so fucking pretty. feel like cumming already.” he groaned, watching as your face twisted in pleasure. your eyes landed onto his above you, giving him the most innocent look you could manage to make. “feel too good sir.. so sensitive.” you whined, clenching around him again.

another thing John loved. when you made that cute little face. nothing made him cum faster than that. “fuck love.. don’t l-look at me like that.” he groaned, looking away from you quickly. but your whimpers and moans were everything but helpful in helping him hold back his orgasm. your pussy was still sensitive to touch from your previous orgasm, his pounding only made it more sensitive.

his fingers bruised your sides for sure, but you didn’t care. in fact you loved it. you wanted him to mark you up like he always does. and you were more than happy he was finally becoming okay with having you guys’ normal, rough sex.

“sir your s-so big.. fuck i cant take it.” you whined, arching your back off his desk. you were teasing him at this point, hoping to get him to cum first. he never came before you did, never. “i’m a gentleman, my love.” you remember him saying the first night you both hooked up. and he kept to his word. he never finished before you. not until tonight.

“c-come on love don’t s-say that.” he groaned, his head dropping. you smirked, up at him, giving him your doe eyes. “but you s-so big. feel so full.” his hips moved quicker, his nails digging into your hips. “baby please..” he whimpered out, trying to stop himself from cumming. “ need you to fill me up sir.. please.” you begged, clenching around him again.

his breath picked up, his hips slowing. “not gonna cum before you do.” he growled, looking down at you.

but you had different plans.

you looked up at him, your hands wrapping around his shoulders to pull him down. your lips latched onto his neck, biting and sucking his skin. another one of his weaknesses. “my god baby.. stop-fuck-stop doing this to me.” he whined, fucking into your faster. he couldn’t maintain the slow pace, he needed to cum.

your arms wrapped around him, your legs wrapping around his hips. “cum in me sir.. need you to cum in me.” you whispered in his ear, clenching around him again. his breathing picked up again, arms wrapping around your waist. “my god love.. gonna make me cum.” he groaned, slamming into you.

his desk began to scrape against the floor, your body jerking up with each thrust he gave you. just as he was about to cum, your second orgasm began to build up. “fuck keep going sir, please. so close.” you cried out, removing your lips from his neck.

“fuck baby- can’t hold it.” he moaned, his head digging into your neck. his legs gave out slightly, his orgasm rushing over him. he chanted your name into your neck quietly, pulling you into his chest. “f-fuck” he growled, slamming into you deeper.

his body laid on top of yours, his hips still moving to get you to your end. “come on baby cum for me.. wanna feel you cum on my dick.” he whispered, hands still on your hips.

your hands found their way back to the edge of the desk, lifting your hips up to feel him deeper. “right there sir - please” you cried out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. he raised his body, watching you squirm beneath him. his hand found it’s way to your lower stomach, pressing down on it. “ so deep inside you, so deep in this pussy.” he moaned, watching you with hooded eyes.

with the pressure of his hand and the force of each thrust, your high cane and went very quickly. he moaned as your cum completely coated his dick, watching your body shake. “f-fuck John” you cried out, legs gripping his neck. “that’s it baby just like that.. just like fucking that.” he moaned, thrusting gently into you.

as he rode out your high, your eyes looked up at him. his eyes were already on yours, a soft smile on his lips. “how are you feeling?” he asked, taking your hand to press a kiss on your palm. “good. really really good.” you smiled.

he nodded before looking down, watching himself pull out. you both moaned quietly at the feeling, a small pop sound coming from your cunt as he pulled out fully. “i’ll clean you up and we can cook together.” he said, pulling his pants up from his ankles. nodding, you watched him walk away, preparing to clean you up. you were happy that you were finally able to get Price back to his old self. so much so, you could stop from pulling him back between your legs again when he came back, begging him for a round two.

you both ended up eating dinner very, very late that night.

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

TMC Home Sweet Home AU: Barotrauma

Adam Murray and Jonah Marshall take a call about a possible cat spirit inhabiting a Home in Mandela. However, Adam begins to become...strangely fascinated with the House itself.

TW: Blood/gore/body horror, toxic friendships, manipulation, mild drug use, possession, violence.

Notes: HSH VOLUME 2!!! This one is. longer than the prologue, being close to 15′400 words long, so. a long read. However, I believe that it’s worth the read, so. hope you enjoy!

@anotherr-side

January 12th, 2009. 2 PM

 Adam was already tired of driving.

He stared forward at the frosty road in front of him, his blue eyes blank and devoid of emotion. An hour-long drive between their base in Bythorne has never felt so long, yet with every second Adam could feel his soul dying from boredom. The music on the radio only helped somewhat at making the drive less tedious, though only barely. He recognized most of the songs as ones he’s heard before, with a few of them feeling like cheese graters being used on his ears due to how many times they’ve played on the radio. Despite wanting to shut the radio off however, Adam hated the silence more. He’d take shitty, overused music over pure, all-encompassing silence any time.

Adam wore a black hoodie over his thin body, its hood pulled up over his head and partially covering his pale brown, curly hair. Three bold yellow letters, “BPS”, were on the left side of his chest, along as across his back. His cold, pale hands grasped onto the steering wheel, the cool air of winter making him wish he remembered to bring his gloves instead of leaving them on the dresser. He had a silver lip ring, along with black chain-link earrings, partially covered by his hood. Along with the missing gloves, Adam began to wish he wore normal jeans, instead of the ripped jeans he normally wore. He glanced towards Jonah, who was sleeping in the passenger seat, seeing he had thought ahead, wearing both a white sweatshirt and a black leather jacket to keep him warm.

Jonah was leaned against the window with his arms crossed in front of him, snoring quietly as faint, muffled music came from the Walkman’s headphones over his ears. His silver hair had its original black roots visible, it being pressed down by his headphones. He had tanned skin, his cheeks becoming red from the cold air. He had a silver nose ring, along with more earrings that were covered by the headphones. He wore simple jeans and red high-top shoes over his thin legs, which were crossed in front of him. He looked pretty deep in sleep, though at least it meant he wouldn’t bother Adam with dull jokes and “totally real” stories.

Adam sighed deeply, staring forward and through the windshield, seeing the white snow on the sides of the roads and the grey road. He was beginning to think of how tired he was of seeing nothing but snow-covered fields and trees until he saw something on the side of the road. It was a frost covered green sign, it’s lettering visible enough to read “Welcome to Mandela Cty. WI!”

“Fucking finally…” Adam muttered under his breath. He turned towards Jonah for a second before focusing back on the road, all before smacking Jonah’s arm with the back of his hand. “Wake up, Jackass, we’re here.”

Jonah was startled awake, sliding his headphones off before staring at Adam with a half-awake stare, all before rubbing his eyes. “Dude…how long was I out?”

“Since we left.”

“Oh. Cool.” Jonah stretched his arms, sighing as he looked outside his window. “So…how much longer ‘till we get there?”

“Less than 20 minutes, probably.” Adam said. “By the way…you got money for gas?”

“…huh?”

“We’re running low on gas, do you have money?” Adam asked again with a tinge of impatience.

Jonah remained silent.

“…Jonah.”

“Okay fine, fuck.” Jonah groaned, pulling out a few dollar bills from his pants pocket. “I got 15 bucks.”

“15?” Adam questioned. “You literally only have 15 on you?”

“Yeah.”

“For fucks sake.” Adam stated. “You were supposed to save that.”

“Hey, get off my back, why does it even matter?” Jonah responded.

“Let me guess, you spent the rest on fucking weed didn’t you.” Adam stated.

Jonah didn’t respond, looking away for a second.

“…You did?!” Adam questioned.

“…You…want any?” Jonah grabbed the backpack sitting by his foot, unzipping it slightly.

Adam responded with a tired, exasperated sigh. “Jonah I swear to God, I’m going to murder you one day.”

“Look man, shit’s stressful at times.” Jonah defended.

“If we get pulled over, I’m going to throw you under a bus.”

“Look man, since when did you care anyway?” Jonah asked. “It’s my money.”

“Yeah, sure, your money. Money that was supposed to go to the group, but you took for yourself.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” Jonah stated, an air of frustration coming from him as he stared at Adam.

“Whatever dude, just…we’ll figure that shit out after this, okay?”

Jonah sighed, looking out of the window as they drove into town. “…Alrighty.”

Adam felt his mood lighten when they finally made it to town, pulling over into the first gas station they saw. Adam parked next to one of the gas pumps, seeing Jonah immediately hop out of the van, Adam lagging behind before exiting the vehicle too. He stretched his thin and lanky arms and legs before walking around the car to see Jonah leaning against the side of the van, partially covering the lazily written “BPS” logo spray-painted in black on the white metal. “Hey…how much money…do you really need for gas?” Jonah asked as Adam took out some of his money, along with the 15 dollars Jonah gave him. Adam simply looked back at him with a confused gaze.

“Probably…twenty? Twenty-five?” He said, looking down at the cash in his hands, adding up to around 35 dollars.

“So why’d you need my money?”

“I’m not letting you skimp out on paying for gas again.”

“Hm.” Jonah looked away, shuddering slightly due to the cold. He glanced back at Adam, seeing that he was unfazed by the chill, frosty air, even though he was wearing less. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Yeah, it’s fucking freezing.” Adam stated, brushing past Jonah to start refueling the van.

“…You don’t act like it.”

“What, you want me to shake or something?” Adam forced a shudder. “It doesn’t bother me as much, what else do you want me to say?”

Jonah looked towards the convenience store next to the fuel pumps, seeing that it was open before looking at Adam. “You mind giving me back ten bucks?”

“…For…?”

“Look, if we’re staying for three days, we better get some snacks.” Jonah held out his hand. “Ten bucks and I’ll get us some chips.”

Adam stared at his hand before rolling his eyes, reluctantly slapping the rest of the money in his hand onto Jonah’s. “I swear dude, don’t buy anything stupid. Snacks, and that’s it.”

“Fine, fuck.” Jonah said as he backed away before turning to walk to the store. “Jeez…”

Adam stared at the gas pump in his hand, waiting until it was done before returning it to its base and grabbing his receipt, promptly crumpling it into a ball and throwing it to the side. He sighed, leaning against the passenger side door before crossing his arms in front of him. He leaned his head back, the back of his skull hitting the window with a soft thunk before he closed his eyes. He felt the wind blowing across his pale face, snowflakes getting stuck in his hair as he stood still, waiting for Jonah to return with the snacks.

“Hey, Adam.”

“Hmm?” Adam opened his eyes, looking to his right where he heard Jonah’s voice, expecting him to be back to either ask him for something, or bother him for more money. He blinked a few times, confused at the sight of nothing but a snow-covered parking lot and the store. He furrowed his brows, turning to his left only to see more of the same, seeing the road where the scarce car would pass by. He stared on in a concerned confusion, feeling as if someone was watching him even though no one was there, even causing the hair on his neck to stand on edge. He stared forward, only to see something in his peripheral vision, his eyes widening slightly. He could see half of a head peeking out from the back of the van, causing him to snap his attention towards his right again, stepping away as he saw nothing there. He stared at it, his dull blue eyes not blinking once until he heard something again.

“Hey, Adam.”

He turned towards the store, seeing Jonah carrying a bag of various snacks in his arms. “…Adam?”

“Hey…” Adam muttered.

“You alright, dude?” Jonah asked as he slid the van’s side door open, throwing in the bag of food. “You look kinda—”

“I’m fine.” Adam said, avoiding eye contact before turning around to walk around the van. “Let’s get going. We have a job to do.”

Adam remained silent as he drove through town, remembering the turns he was supposed to make, and the address the caller stated as he traversed through Mandela. Jonah was also strangely silent; holding his head up with his hand as he boredly stared out his window as he listened to the music from his headphones. Adam glanced at the street sign on one of the corners of the intersection he found himself in: Wisteria Avenue. Adam pulled over to the side of the road, parking right outside of the neighborhood, seeing that it was gated off and locked with a chain. Jonah stared at it before looking back towards Adam. “…So?”

“Well, the house is in there I’m pretty sure.” Adam stated. “It’s the same street that lady told us to go to.”

“Well, do…we have bolt cutters?” Jonah asked.

“I think we do, in the back.” Adam unbuckled his seat belt, opening his door and opening the side door. He looked around the messy van, pushing over bags and camera equipment before grabbing the pair of bolt cutters that was buried under it all. As Adam approached the gate to break the lock, Jonah remained in the van, listening as the song playing from his old Walkman began to fade out. The next song was going to be an old 90’s pop song; he knew that for certain. He had listened to that tape for years, ever since he bought it when he was a teen. However, when it began playing, it didn’t start with plucky synths or drums. It began with an electric guitar, the audio quality of which being oddly worse than the rest of the songs on the cassette.

Jonah’s brows furrowed as he listened closely, not even paying attention to Adam’s struggles with the bolt cutter as he heard the 80’s rock song playing on his headphones. The guitar and drums continued before the lyrics began.

“Like the wind…”

He couldn’t make out the rest, it sounding vaguely like the singer was speaking English, yet…not quite right. He never even heard of the song before, knowing it was never in any of his cassettes. Was he remembering it wrong? Did he accidentally skip this song every time he’s listened to this cassette? Why couldn’t he make out the lyrics? It sounded like a song his mind came up with to be background music in a dream of his, only barely remembering it when he woke up, yet there he was, listening to it clear as day. His confusion grew until Adam opened the driver’s side door, entering the van before tossing the bolt cutter into the back of the van. Adam looked towards Jonah, appearing confused before he started speaking.

“What’s up with you?” He asked, noticing Jonah’s strange expression.

“Uh…” Jonah took off his headphones, handing them over to Adam. “You know this song?”

Adam placed the headphones over his ears, listening intently for a few moments before sighing. “Some…generic 80’s song?” He said. “…It’s over anyway; it just went to the next song.”

“N-No, like…I’ve never had that song on this tape.” Jonah said as Adam returned the headphones.

“So?”

“So…don’t you think that’s weird?”

“I don’t know dude.” Adam said. “The gates open so…guess we should get going.”

The entire neighborhood was completely barren as they slowly drove down the cracked road, the eerie silence making Jonah’s hair stand on end. It felt as though it was soulless, devoid of all life, with every single house on the street being dark and dead, long since abandoned. Jonah wanted to start small talk, asking Adam about how he felt about everything, though his throat felt tight for a reason he didn’t know. He looked down at the Walkman and the headphones with it that sat on his lap, quietly shoving them into his backpack.

“I’m surprised.” Adam stated. “Normally you’d be chickening out by now.”

“…I…no, I’m not a coward.” Jonah responded. “Besides…nothing’s even happened yet.”

Adam scoffed slightly. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

Jonah looked at Adam, him only returning a passing glance. “No.” Jonah lied. “I’m not, actually.”

“Sure.” Adam looked down the road before glancing back at Jonah. “334, right?”

“Huh?”

“The house number.”

“Oh…yeah, I…think so.”

“Then…” Adam stopped the vehicle on the side of the road. “We’re here.”

They pulled into the driveway, the very sight of the house making a pit form in their stomachs. It was an average looking home, albeit empty, having a garage with red outer walls, a large window on the right side of the house leading into the living room, surrounded by beige bricks, and a black roof. It only had one floor, and looked like a medium-sized home. Cracks formed across small parts of the driveway, and thin roots from plants were scaling less than halfway up some of the outer walls, reaching towards the living room window. It looked painfully normal, so why did it feel so wrong?

Either way, Jonah hoped the three days would go by quickly.

 Day One, 2:45 PM

 Adam slid open the van’s side door, rummaging through their gear before grabbing three cameras, lightly tossing them to Jonah, who nearly dropped one of them as soon as they were all in his arms. “Put those around the house.” Adam stated. “I can set up the computer out here so we can get a live feed.”

Jonah glanced towards the house, staring at it before looking back at Adam, who was crawling into the back of the van with a laptop in hand. “Dude…can…you go do this?” Jonah asked sheepishly.

Adam glared at him with tired eyes.

“You serious?”

“Dude, come on, you’ll know where to put them—”

“I can tell you over the radio.” Adam stated. “Don’t be such a baby; I got a good feeling about this place.”

“I-I just don’t kn—”

“FINE.” Adam hopped out of the van before grabbing the cameras out of Jonah’s arms, all before grasping a bag with the cameras’ tripods in them. “I’ll go do it. You set up the computer.”

Jonah remained in stunned silence as Adam approached the house, all before Jonah sighed deeply and hesitantly sat on the edge of the van’s floor, grabbing the laptop as he watched Adam disappear behind the front door. He pulled his foot up to rest on his opposite knee, turning on his laptop before letting out a breath. “‘Don’t be such a baby’ he says.” Jonah mocked under his breath. “Acting like I’m the stupid one here.” He crossed his arms, his breath clouding up in the cold air in front of him. He stared at the laptop’s screen, waiting for the cameras to connect.

The first thing Adam noticed when he walked into the House was the silence. It felt eerie, yet serene, the calm yet stagnant air making Adam feel happy that he was no longer in the cold. He turned to his right, seeing the living room, with the couch rested against the wall, with a coffee table and an old analog television resting upon it. Adam couldn’t help but feel strange seeing such a device, considering they were banned when he was little. However, after hearing faint clacking and ticking from the opposite wall, he forgot how strange it was to see the Television, his attention now focusing on the grandfather clock standing tall across from it.

It nearly touched the already decently tall ceiling, making Adam guess that it was around nine feet tall from its clawed base to the wooden wings right above its clock face. Its golden pendulum swayed from behind the glass, and its black hands twitched as it kept with the time. It looked old as hell; something a grandpa would have in his house. Adam stared at the clock face with bored eyes, all before kneeling on the carpeted ground, placing his bag of tripods and the cameras onto the floor in front of him.

He found himself whistling as he attached the cameras to the tripods; a song he wasn’t familiar with, figuring his mind was simply making it up to fill the odd silence within the Home. He set up the first camera, flicking it on as he pointed it towards the living room. Jonah saw the camera appear in the feed as Adam did so, giving it a passing glance as he dug through his backpack, grabbing a lighter that was buried in the gear as he leaned against the inner wall of the van. Adam saw the light gleam from the small light of the camera, standing up and grabbing the other cameras off of the ground as he walked out of the living room, the ticking of the clock continuing as he passed through the house.

He found himself in the kitchen, seeing the floor’s tiles were stained, with a substance Adam wasn’t able to identify. The counters appeared decently clean however, with everything seemingly untouched, yet still appearing to be used at the same time. It was as if the family that used to live there never left. It felt so familiar, as if he had been there before despite never seeing the house in his life. He knew it wasn’t anywhere close to how he vaguely remembered his own house looking from his foggy childhood, yet somehow it felt just as Homey. After shaking off the thought, Adam pushed forward, realizing he still had more to look at in the old House.

Adam stared at the back hallway in front of him, seeing one door to the right and one dead ahead; it felt oddly short for a hallway, especially considering that there seemed to be more room than needed for it. He looked up at the left wall, seeing a strange dark splotch near the top corner, assuming it to be water damage before he placed a camera down at the entrance of the hallway, pointing it towards the one door to the right. He looked through the doorway, seeing that it was a bedroom of some kind, with a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room and a closet to the right of it. Nothing of interest so far. Not even a sign of the cat they came there for aside from the empty pet bed he saw next to the clock. What a great waste of time.

Adam passed through the House with an annoyed expression, his jaw clenched as he thought of how stupid it was that he was setting up cameras for an empty House, just in case he saw a ghost cat. Was the lady on the phone a compete nutcase? As he thought to himself he glanced to the other side of the living room, eyes widening slightly. There was a door next to the hallway leading to the kitchen, with an upright piano right beside it, along with a few bookshelves. The door however caught Adam’s attention, despite it looking like every other white, boring door in the House. He placed the final camera, pointing it towards the door before he walked towards it.

He placed a hand on the doorknob, attempting to open it to no avail; locked. The metal was strangely warm, despite the air being cool within the room. It smelled strangely sour near the door as well, making Adam back away and shake his head, taking one glance back at the clock before turning towards the front door.

Something hit his head.

Adam felt something be dropped onto his head before falling in his peripheral vision, landing on the carpet with a soft thud. Adam placed his hand on his hood-covered head before looking down to see what had fell, assuming it to be a piece of the ceiling from the age of the building. However, instead he saw a rusted metal key, sticking out from the shaggy carpet. Adam crouched down, lightly grabbing it with a few of his fingers. He stared at it, turning it around in his hand. Its edges appeared to have been dulled, and whatever was written on it has long since worn away. Adam stood up, staring at the strangely misshapen key as a face peered at him halfway from the hallway behind him. A key? Why would a key be stuck in the roof? He shoved it into his hoodie pocket, deciding to grab his camera from the van and head back in; Jonah better have set the camera system up, otherwise he was getting his ass kicked.

 When he made his way outside, Adam was greeted with smoke coming out of the back of the van, sighing when he approached it. He found the source of the smoke; Jonah smoking a joint with the laptop beside him. “You got it working?” Adam asked, trying to ignore the smell.

“Uh, yeah, look.” Jonah pushed the computer towards Adam as he crawled into the van, sitting down as he stared at the camera feeds in front of him.

“Okay, good. You are making sure it’s recording, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” Jonah coughed. “Should be all ready to go.”

Adam nodded before turning around grabbing the camera he saw peeking out from underneath their makeshift bedding. “I’m gonna go back in and get some pics, alright?” Adam stated. “Keep an eye on the cameras, and…” He stared at Jonah, who was coughing smoke out. “…Don’t get high out of your mind alright? We need to be focused for this shit.”

“Aye aye, shitface.”

Adam didn’t respond with anything more than an eye roll as he crawled out of the van, shutting the door behind him.

Adam snapped a photo of the back hallway, more specifically the large, off-colored blotch in the wallpaper. He looked at the photo on the camera’s screen before turning towards the door in front of him. He stared at the closed door before reaching towards the door knob, though once again, it didn’t budge. In fact, it didn’t even move a millimeter, as if it and the door it was attached to was one complete thing. He sighed in disappointment before grabbing the radio attached to his belt before turning it on. “Another locked door.” He stated.

“…Really?” Jonah asked, his voice partially cloaked by the static of the radio. “Couldn’t you just. Kick it down or something?”

“I’m not gonna bust down a random lady’s door.” Adam stated.

“Alright. Your loss then.”

Adam turned around, walking out of the hallway and back through the House, finding himself in the living room once again. He looked at his camera, cycling through the multiple photos of the house he took before looking towards the piano in the corner, holding the camera up to his eye, lining the picture up, and taking a picture.

Click.

GONG.

GONG.

GONG.

GONG.

The sound of the Clock’s bells made Adam swing around in shock to look at it, his eyes staring at it before he let out his breath. “It’s four already?” He asked himself when he saw the time. “Ugh.” Adam looked at the photo of the piano, letting out an annoyed groan when he saw that it was blurry from the sudden motion. He turned towards the piano once again, though when he held up the camera, he paused. He stood still as he slowly lowered the camera, turning back towards the grandfather clock as he heard its quiet ticks. He glanced at the digital camera in his hands before pointing it towards the clock.

Click.

 11:23 PM

That night, Adam laid across the floor of the van, with a thin layer of blankets and a pillow being the only padding between him and the cold metal. He stared up at the roof of the van, the orange light from above shining down on him. He smoked a cigarette as he listened to Jonah laugh at his own jokes and stories, leaning back in the passenger side seat with his legs propped up on the dashboard. As he spoke the retelling of a story he overheard, he began speaking in a more sinister tone, as if he was telling a campfire story.

“Like…it’s so hard to remember but I’m pretty sure after that, the dude just…up and disappeared.” Jonah said. “Gone like the wind. Who knows, maybe he’s still out there somewhere, ready to kill again…”

“You are…the worst storyteller…ever.” Adam stated. “That is not at all what happened, and you know it.”

“Well, how did it go then, genius?” Jonah asked. “The dude went crazy, murdered this other dude then fucking vanished. Sounds like some ghost story people tell their kids to make them not go into the woods at night.”

“Yeah, but there’s gotta be more to it than that, right?” Adam said, taking a hit from his cigarette. “People don’t just…go insane randomly.”

“Yeah but…that guy did.” Jonah smiled lightheartedly, despite the unease in his eyes when he looked back at Adam.

“Mhmm. You can think that.” Adam put out his cigarette on the metal wall of the van before resting his hands on his stomach.

Jonah stared at the house in front of him, it barely visible through the nightly darkness and the snow gathering on the windshield. He felt a pit in his gut as he stared at the front door, all before looking through the rearview mirror, towards Adam. “…Wasn’t…this house the one that dude went insane in?” Jonah asked pensively. “Or…one like it? What if that’s the reason this neighborhood was closed off?”

“You aren’t seriously scared of some ghost story, are you?” Adam smirked. “It’s an empty house, bro. I looked through every part I could; there was nothing there.”

“Yeah…I…guess.”

There was silence for a moment, the quiet only making the pressure in Jonah’s chest all the more noticeable. He leaned back in his seat, brows furrowing as he rubbed the lapel of his leather jacket.

“Why did you even take this job?”

Jonah glanced at the rearview mirror, seeing that Adam was sitting up, pushing away the empty pizza box that was next to him. He looked directly at Jonah through the mirror, his expression mostly blank, yet with an air of annoyance.

“I…why do you ask?” Jonah questioned.

“You’ve been bitching and whining since we got here.” Adam stated. “If you’re so scared of ghosts, then why did you decide to join a ghost hunting group?”

Jonah remained silent, the question hanging in the air like a foul stench.

“At the very least, you could take this shit seriously, you know—”

“I do.”

Adam’s eyes widened ever so slightly before turning into a skeptical glare. “Right. So your definition of ‘taking things seriously’ is sitting in the van, smoking weed, and acting like a complete wuss?” Adam questioned. “I’ve been doing all the work while you goof off.”

“Look man, I just…I don’t like this shit.” Jonah stated, looking towards the house. “Something just does…not feel right here. Like. I looked at the footage and…despite nothing being super wrong, it just feels…off. Weird.”

“Look, we’re only gonna be here for three days, alright?” Adam stated. “Then, we’re out of here and we never have to look for a stupid ghost cat ever again. Besides, tomorrow, the real shit’s gonna happen.”

“…I don’t…Adam.” Jonah rubbed his shoulders. “I don’t wanna tell you what to do but…don’t you think you should be more…careful?”

Adam remained silent, his hard glare slightly waning.

“You just…run in as if nothings…wrong.” Jonah choked out, as if he was scared to say what he was trying to say. “You’ve acted so…shitty the whole trip, and now you’re just…ignoring the clearly weird feeling about this place?”

“Look, it’s not my fault that you refuse to do your job.” Adam stated. “I’m just trying to do mine.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, your wuss of a friend has a point?” Jonah replied. “…I don’t like this place…and something tells me even you feel that something’s up here, but you refuse to even acknowledge it.”

“Yeah. I do.” Adam said. “But that’s what makes this more interesting. Who knows what’s going on with this place?”

Jonah stared at his feet before he sighed. “Could you at least…be…careful?” Jonah said quietly. “I’m…scared…for you.”

Adam’s brows furrowed, though his hard gaze felt less uncaring. “…why?”

“…You know…I just…” Jonah paused. “Don’t want you to get yourself killed for nothing.”

“I…I won’t.” Adam said softly. “Look, hey, if it makes you feel better, I’ll bring in my camcorder tomorrow, and film everything. That way you know exactly what’s going on and how there’s literally nothing in there.”

Jonah remained silent before turning around, seeing Adam in the eye instead of through the mirror. “Just…make this trip quick.” Jonah said.

“I will.” Adam said. “I’ll look for the stupid cat tomorrow, and if nothing happens we’ll…just fucking leave. If you so insist.”

“Really?”

“Sure.” Adam stated with a partial eye-roll. “Now go to sleep, we have shit to do tomorrow.”

“Yeah…I’ll…try.” Jonah sighed as Adam laid back down, all before he flipped the light off.

 ??:??

Adam awoke to the sound of static.

He was lying on his side on the cold metal floor of the van, his lukewarm breath clouding the freezing air in front of his face as he looked around, his eyes gleaming in the dark. He sat up, noticing a faint blue light shining through the windshield. He groggily looked through the glass, brows furrowing when he saw the light in the distance. Where the driveway and garage would have been was instead a long hallway, doors lining both of the walls. It was completely dark, aside from the pale blue light coming from down the hall.

Adam silently and carefully slid open the side door, stepping onto the wooden floor before stumbling in front of the van, looking back to see that it was halfway through the wall behind it, connected by thin tendrils that morphed with the wallpaper behind it. His shadow covered most of it, towering over it and flickering with the static behind him. Adam turned towards the light, eyes fixed on what the light came from: an old analog television. It was playing static, the sound of which filling the hallway, along with the sound of faint ticking in the distance. Adam didn’t call for help, or say anything at all, instead inching closer to the television as his thin fingers twitched by his side.

He stared at the television with wide eyes, pupils contracting from the light. His breathing was shallow, barely audible over the static. He looked forward at the area around the television, seeing that it was made of flesh, fusing with the wallpaper and wooden flooring, and making the ground wet and soft around it. He stared at it, lightly running his hand down the wall and pulling it back to see the mucus left on his fingers.

He paused when he heard something from the hall behind him, turning towards the darkness that seemed to stretch on forever as he listened past the increasingly loud ticking and static in his ears. Screaming; it sounded like someone was yelling something he couldn’t make out. The voice appeared reversed and faint, like a record playing the wrong way.  It sounded half furious, half pained, though as much as he tried, Adam couldn’t make out any words. However, he could finally find his own.

“Hello?”

The static stopped.

His voice echoed back at him as the faint screaming faded away. Adam stared into the void, as if he was awaiting something. Silence was all that greeted him, the faint ticking he heard in the distance feeling like pin pricks in his ears. He swallowed hard, taking a step forward before stopping, seeing something in the dark; two white dots. Eyes, along with the faint outline of a featureless face, staring back at him. Adam and the figure he could barely make out in the distance remained silent until it’s choked, unused voice began to speak.

“Who are you?”

 Adam awoke in a cold sweat, face down on something that was not the floor of the van he fell asleep in. His eyes flicked open, seeing that he was on top of concrete, looking up to see the front door of the House, with his arm laying right in front of it. He felt snow on his back, legs, and head, as if he had been there for a while, unmoving. He stood up, brushing the white snow off of his black hoodie as he stared at the door with a bewildered expression that soon became blank. Something finally happened. He needed to tell Jonah.

 Day Two, 10:15 AM

 “And you don’t think that’s…weird?”

Jonah rustled the bag of chips in his hand as he stared at Adam, who was staring at the camcorder in his hands as he fiddled with it.

“Yeah, I do.” Adam stated. “That’s what makes it interesting. I’ve never sleepwalked, yet…I think something here made me do it.”

“…How would you…be able to tell?” Jonah asked as he put a chip in his mouth. “I mean…could’ve just been a random thing that happened.”

“Yeah, but…dude, I never remember my dreams.” Adam had a faint smile on his face as he looked at Jonah, placing his camcorder into his black backpack. “But…it felt so real. There’s something up with this place, I know it.”

Jonah paused, worriedly staring at Adam before sighing. “That’s…the problem.” He muttered under his breath.

“Look, I’ll be back in like…an hour or so.” Adam said as he slid the side door open. “Keep an eye on the cameras, alright?”

“…Yeah.” Jonah glanced away. “Yeah I will.”

Adam’s smirk faded slightly when he saw Jonah staring blankly at nothing in particular, crawling out of the van before closing the door. Adam stared at the frost-covered driveway before sighing and holding his head up and walking towards the front door, throwing his backpack over his shoulder with a huff.

He swung open the front door, looking around the now familiar living room before closing the door behind him. The clock ticked quietly, its pendulum swinging from behind the glass, the rest of the living room and Adam walking around the home reflecting off of it. Adam’s boots pressed down the shaggy carpet as he walked around, all as he rummaged through his backpack, grabbing the camcorder and turning it on.

Jonah sat down in the back of the van, grabbing the old laptop before turning it on. He was greeted to the camera feed still on, seeing Adam wandering the living room from one of the cameras before picking up his radio. “Adam, you hear me?”

Adam’s radio sounded from his belt, all before he removed it and responded. “Loud and clear. You see me?” Adam turned towards the tripod facing him.

“Yep. Certainly can.” Jonah said as he watched Adam walk closer to the camera and kneel down in front of it to look into the lens. “You’re…as ugly as ever.”

“Hey, well fuck you too, dude.” Adam flipped the camera off briefly with a slight scoff. Adam stood up, turning back towards the living room, his eyes grazing over the clock before he turned towards the rest of the house.

Jonah looked towards the cameras, seeing the living room: boring, with an old ass clock, analog TV and some furniture. A locked door: a weird camera angle, considering it was most likely nothing but a closet or something. And the finally, the back hallway: a boring bedroom and another locked door. Jonah wondered what was going through Adam’s head to make him choose those of all places to place the cameras, but he supposed it didn’t matter. Besides, best case scenario, Adam was just going to get bored and leave. Jonah sighed, hoping that it would be the scenario that played out.

Adam walked into the kitchen, his camera filming the dusty counters and dining room table. Or, at least he remembered it being dusty and unused. When he stared at the counters, he noticed, that they were…pristine. The counter was organized, with everything on top of it being neatly placed. The dining room table had a small candle holder in the middle of it, along with small table dressing around it. It was as if someone was preparing for a fancy dinner, for a house party perhaps. Adam held the radio up to his mouth as he filmed, all before speaking. “Hey, Jonah, the kitchen’s clean.”

“…Yeah? What do you mean?” Jonah asked.

“Like…it’s clean, as if someone just deep cleaned the place.” Adam elaborated. “…Smells…like…soap.”

Jonah remained silent, brows furrowing as he swallowed a lump in his throat. “…Y-You don’t think…maybe the woman cleaned like…right before we got here?”

“It was covered in dust when I was in here yesterday.”

Jonah felt a brief sinking in his chest. “…Alright…just…be careful, alright?”

“I will.” Adam lowered the radio, his own brows furrowed as he stared at nothing in particular.

Jonah stared at the camera feeds, leaning back until his head lightly hit the side of the van. The pressure in his chest was ever present, a looming dread creeping into his mind. He glanced to the side, seeing his own backpack, searching through it before grabbing a small paper bag, along with rolling paper as he waited for his radio to sound again. Maybe if he smoked for a second, he would relax enough to focus; after all, isn’t that what Adam wanted him to do? As he looked away to roll another joint, the camera feed flickered slightly, the back hallway camera shutting off as he remained oblivious.

Adam walked around filming as he got a grasp of the layout within the House. He wandered in and out of rooms and halls, filming everything that even remotely piqued his interest. He remained silent, sighing slightly when he found himself back in the living room despite swearing he was just in one of the bedrooms. He must’ve remembered it wrong, he thought. He turned towards a door to his right, seeing the camera pointed towards it. He stared at it for a moment before reaching towards the door handle. It was the same; somewhat warm, and locked, however, he couldn’t help but scrunch his nose at a faint sour smell coming from it. He shook his head in disappointment before holding up his radio.

“Jonah, I’ve got nothing, you see anything on the cams?”

Jonah coughed, choking on his own saliva and the smoke from his joint. “U-uh, no, nothing’s…out of the ordinary.” Jonah stated, not even looking at the cameras. “Now can we leave? It’s cold out here.”

Adam let out a deep, frustrated groan. “Fine. Fuck.”

Jonah smiled. “Alright, now let’s get some pizza or something, I’m starving.”

“We just had…whatever, sure.” Adam shook his head, lowering his radio with a look of disappointment plastered on his face. Nothing. Fucking great.

Jonah placed his radio onto the floor beside him as he looked towards the camera feed, grazing over the three cameras with a tired look in his eyes. Living room: Boring, clock, couch and TV. Locked door: still locked, and still meaningless. Back hallway bedroom: Empty hallway, and a boring…room.

It was a smaller bedroom than Jonah remembered. A twin sized bed in the corner, a messy desk right beside it with an old computer resting on top of it. The bedroom was a complete mess, the floor covered in food wrappers, games from the game console sitting in front of a CRT TV, and dirty clothes being only among the junk Jonah saw. There were posters on the walls, though he couldn’t make out exactly what was on them. However, the room felt so…familiar.

“Is…that…” Jonah mumbled to himself under his breath. He stared at the camera feed, eyes widening as his memories flooded back, making his heart sink at the realization.

That was a child’s bedroom.

That was his childhood bedroom.

Jonah shakily grabbed his radio, holding it up to his mouth as he gathered his words. “Adam, you hear me?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Adam said as he grazed his hand over the keys of the piano.

“Go to the back hallway, cam 3.”

“…The…back hallway?” Adam repeated. “Why?”

“Just go there.” Jonah stated. “S-Something…it…it changed.”

“…What?”

“Just go check, please.”

Adam couldn’t help but smile slightly as he turned his camera back on, jogging back across the house, through the kitchen, and into the back hallway. The camera sat in the middle of it, pointed towards one of the bedrooms, and as Adam approached it, he began to wonder what he’d see: an alternate? A new object of some kind? Something else entirely? Adam peeked his head into the doorway, only to have his smile smacked off of his face.

“Jonah…the fuck are you talking about?”

“…What?” Jonah asked, seeing that Adam was blocking the camera.

“It’s a fucking bedroom, dude.” Adam stated. “…Woohoo. So cool.”

Jonah remained quiet as Adam walked out of the way and out of the hall, seeing that the bedroom was back to its normal self, with the queen sized bed, nightstands and all. “Don’t fucking get my hopes up like that, dude.” Adam said as Jonah stared at the camera feed in disbelief.

“N-No, but…I saw it, I…fuck, we’ll play back the footage,” Jonah sputtered. “I know what I saw.”

“Oh yeah? And what was that, a fly?” Adam scoffed. “Or like a spider or something?”

“No, it—the entire room changed,” Jonah attempted to explain. “It was…it was my bedroom, back from when I was a kid—”

Adam glanced back at the bedroom, not noticing anything strange with it as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are…you fucking high again?”

“Adam, what?” Jonah exhaled. “Weed isn’t fucking hallucinogenic, you know this—”

“Yeah, I guess, but dude, are you sure, like…you for sure saw the room change?”

Jonah stared at the floor for a second; was he, or did he just imagine it? “I…Come back to the van, we’ll look over the footage, okay?”

“Alright, fine.” Adam sighed as he put his radio away. “If this is some sort of stunt to make us leave I’ll kick your ass.”

Jonah was standing outside of the van when Adam left the house, a look of relief on Jonah’s face when he saw him. “O-Okay, so, I know everything recorded, all we need to do is rewind—”

“I know how to do it, Jonah,” Adam stated as he brushed past Jonah. “Let me take a look at it.”

Adam crawled into the van as Jonah followed, seeing Adam placing the computer onto his lap. Jonah waited in worry as Adam began to skim through the footage, his eyes grazing across the camera feeds blankly as he did so. He didn’t believe Jonah; Jonah could feel it. Hell, even Jonah himself was beginning to doubt if he truly knew what he was talking about. He stared at Adam, watching as he lightly bit his lip and lip piercing in anticipation.

“…Y…you…uh…” Jonah hesitated. “…You don’t…believe me, do you…?”

Adam stopped, staring at the bedroom camera with the same blank expression he’s had for a few minutes. “…I don’t know…” He muttered under his breath. He glanced at the frozen footage of camera two, brows furrowing when he saw something different; the door was cracked open slightly. “…We’ll…see.”

Adam closed the laptop and pushed it to the side as he left the vehicle, all while being stared at by a concerned Jonah. “Adam? What’s going on?”

“I’m…just…gonna check something, alright?” Adam responded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes…”

With that, Adam entered the Home once again, leaving Jonah to keep himself company. Jonah stared at the camera feed, seeing that the bedroom looked normal, at least from what little he could see. Was…he…wrong? Did he really make it up? Maybe he just wanted Adam to…notice his concerns. Maybe there was nothing to worry about after all.

Adam walked into the living room in silence, noticing a new sound aside from the ticking of the clock; faint meowing. It sounded partially choked and pained, like an injured animal. Adam walked away, soon finding himself in front of the presumably locked door, the sound of meowing becoming clearer as he approached it. He stared at the camera before grabbing the tripod and placing it around a foot away before he grabbed the doorknob, now used to the strange warmth. It turned, unlocked, for the first time since he arrived at the House. He took in a deep breath, all before he swung open the door.

He was greeted to a vile sour and rotten smell. He gagged, covering his mouth and nose with his free hand as he pointed his camera towards the room with the other. It was a wooden stairway, leading down into what he presumed to be the basement of the Home. He could hear meowing, though it sounded even worse, like the cat was drowning or being choked to death. He stepped closer as he pulled the front of his hoodie over his face, trying to ignore the urge to vomit from the smell as he looked down the stairway. He could see a concrete floor at the bottom of the dark stairs, seeing that it was seemingly partially flooded, judging from the thin layer of off-color liquid that covered it. It felt hot; a higher temperature than the otherwise cold House, making him sweat just from being near it. He looked around, seeing strange, wet, pinkish colored masses, creeping up the walls and covering large portions of the floor, fusing with it.

Adam stared at the basement with widened eyes, unaware of the figure in the living room watching him. Adam stared at the masses on the basement floor, swearing he could see them pulsating. He shook his head, the sour, putrid smell becoming too much to bear before he slammed the door shut. He coughed and gagged as he stared at the door, all before grabbing the tripod and stepping away, his brows furrowing as he backed away, soon walking out of the House entirely. Jonah was right, just not in the way Adam thought. Something was going on in the house, and it was way better than a cat.

12:25 PM

 Jonah stared at the food in front of him, hearing the ambiance of the diner around him as he leaned back in his seat. Adam seemed perfectly fine; quietly eating the cheap food in front of him as if nothing was wrong. Jonah stared at him in silence, beginning to wish he didn’t order food due to the lack of appetite. What a waste of eight bucks.

“You just gonna fucking stare at me, or what.”

Jonah seemed surprised, coming back from spacing out to see Adam glaring at him. “So…you…see anything in the house?” Jonah asked.

Adam let out a deep breath. “No.” Adam stated. “Well…The basement door was open, so there’s that. It was probably just jammed last time.”

“Yeah?” Jonah said. “…And?”

“Nothing much was down there.” Adam responded. “Smelled bad. Thinking the cat died down there or something.”

Jonah stared at Adam with concern as he continued eating as if the possibility of a cat’s corpse rotting in the basement was normal. “…Ah.” Jonah looked away, letting out a forced cough as he crossed his arms. “Sooooo….we’re…gonna…leave?”

Adam paused.

“I mean…it’s not like there’s much for us to do about that.” Jonah continued. “Like, I-I’m not gonna go down there and dispose of it.”

Adam remained silent, staring at the table as he thought to himself, his eyes blank as usual. “…No.”

Jonah leaned forward slightly with furrowed brows. “…What?”

“There’s…I think we should stay the full three days at least.” Adam said quietly. “Might as well.”

“…Dude.” Jonah glanced away for a second. “If there’s nothing interesting there, then…why stay? Like, a smelly basement isn’t that remarkable.”

“No. It isn’t.” Adam agreed. “But everything else is.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Adam bit his lip lightly as he stared at nothing in particular, becoming still. “Something about her is just…fascinating.” He said. “I don’t know how to describe—”

“Her?”

Adam looked up at Jonah to see a strange look on his face. “What?”

“You said…her.”

“…No?” Adam stared quizzically at Jonah, as if he just said something insane. “Whatever dude, you need to get your ears checked.”

Jonah watched as Adam slipped his jacket back on, zipping it over his white shirt and standing up. “Look, if you’re not gonna eat, at least get it to-go. We’re not wasting money.”

“…Alright.” Jonah watched as Adam slammed money on the table before walking away to presumably get a food box or two. Jonah couldn’t help but feel a pit in his gut; was Adam normally this…soulless? Jonah remained still, looking down at the table as he rubbed his arms. One more day. That’s all.

He hoped.

 8:46 PM

 Adam leaned against the side of the van, smoking a cigarette as he stared towards the clear night sky. The stars gleamed, reflecting off of his pale eyes. He had his free hand in his hoodie pocket, leaving his other free hand cold. The side door of the van was open, the orange light from inside hitting his side as he heard Jonah moving inside, all before Jonah sat on the edge of the van’s floor, his feet hitting the driveway under them.

“You’re not changing my mind.” Adam stated, not even giving Jonah a passing glance as he blew out smoke.

“I’m not trying to.”

“Then what do you want?” Adam asked.

“Just…wanted to talk.”

Adam looked down throwing his cigarette down and stomping on it with his boot. “Alright.” Adam turned slightly towards Jonah, putting his hand in his pocket.

“…So…you’re staying in there tonight.”

“…Yeah.”

Jonah grew silent for a few moments as he shifted his weight. “I’m…worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” Adam stated. “I can handle—”

“—Yourself, yes I know.” Jonah interrupted. “But…something here…you’ve been so cold lately, and I…don’t think this job is…helping you.”

Adam stayed silent, staring at the front yard in front of him as Jonah stood up and stepped towards him, Adam not even giving him a simple glance. “You know I…care about you…right?” Jonah said quietly. “…You know I’m…your friend, right?”

Adam didn’t respond with anything more than his eyes shifting to the side slightly.

“…Remember…that one time we spray-painted the side of the police department?” Jonah smiled awkwardly. “And how…we managed to get away ‘cause the officer tripped while chasing us? Or…how we were checking out some warehouse ‘cause someone called us for it…and it turned out to be a small family of raccoons? You got your leg scratched up by the mom…right?”

Adam looked at Jonah with a side-eye, with Jonah’s smile fading as he did. “Fake calls.” Adam muttered. “It was all…fake fucking calls.” Adam looked forward and towards the sky. “But this? This…is…real. The first real thing I’ve been able to see since…forever.”

“But that…isn’t a good thing, Adam.” Jonah said. “What if…you’re in genuine danger here?”

“Again…with the fucking what ifs.” Adam’s brows furrowed, making Jonah feel his heart sink somewhat. “Don’t you think I know what I’m doing?”

“…Not saying…you don’t.” Jonah stated. “All I’m saying is that knowing what you’re doing…doesn’t mean things can’t go wrong.”

Adam turned towards Jonah with a hard glare, his eyes somewhat gleaming in the dark. “…I’m getting my stuff and going in.” Adam stated, much to the silent dismay of Jonah. “I’ll call you on the radio tomorrow and check in, okay?”

It wasn’t okay.

“Fine.” Jonah said. Adam brushed past him and dug through the gear in the van, grabbing a blanket, his backpack, and a pillow before crawling back out. Jonah watched as Adam began approaching the front door before shaking his head and following him, grasping Adam’s sleeve.

“Wait.”

Adam turned towards him with a tired, yet annoyed glare.

Jonah grew silent, glancing to the side as he gathered his thoughts. “…Just…be careful, okay?”

Adam brushed his arm off before turning back towards the front door, Jonah feeling his chest tighten when the door closed behind him. Silence fell as Jonah stared at the front door, rubbing his sleeve before lowering his head and turning back towards the van. As he walked, his shoe planted on top of one of the larger cracks in the concrete.

Thump.

Jonah flinched, pulling his foot back as he stared at the crack, which appeared to be a root of some kind upon further inspection. Strange; it felt like it pulsated under his foot. Maybe going to sleep earlier wouldn’t hurt. He was clearly tired.

Adam threw his blankets and pillow onto the dusty couch before sitting on it with a deep exhale. He stared forward at the living room in front of him, hearing the clunking and ticking of the clock in his view. He stared at the television on the coffee table in front of him, pondering turning it on to possibly relax and watch something. However, his exhaustion outweighed the urge to watch old programs; instead, he simply placed his pillow near the arm rest of the couch, laid down, and threw the blankets on top of him. He stared forward, eyelids becoming heavier before he curled into himself and began to drift—

GONG.

GONG.

GONG.

Adam was startled awake by the sound of the clock striking nine. The loud bells rang nine times as Adam stared at her face, all with an air of annoyance as he flinched with every ring. “Come on…” He muttered under his breath as he stood up. “You gonna do that every single fucking hour?”

He stood in front of the clock, staring up at her face before sighing and pushing aside the table next to it. “There has to be a way to shut this stupid thing off.” He thought as he stood next to the strangely tall antique clock. He took in a deep breath before grasping the wooden centerpiece, groaning slightly with exertion as he attempted to push it away from the wall, hoping to find a way to access the gears. It seemed to be especially hard to move, inching away at an angle as Adam pushed as hard as he could, all until he was able to reach the back of it.

He rubbed his hands on his pants as he looked at the back of the clock, seeing nothing but plain redwood until he looked up where the clock face was. He froze, as if he was turned into a stone statue in a single second. His eyes widened slightly, though the rest of his expression stayed blank as he stared at the pulsating mass protruding from near the top of the clock.

It was a large, dull red artery, connected the back of the clock, it merging with the wall and connecting to the clock through a hole in the wood. Veins draped from both the wall and the clock itself, all pulsing with every “heartbeat.” Adam stared up at the arterial vein with dead eyes, his twitching hand beginning to rise above his head as his eyes refused to look away from her lifeblood. He placed his cold hand against the artery, feeling the pulsing and twitching from the blood rushing through it. It was warm; inviting. He held it there for a few more moments, all before he pulled it down, staring at the thin layer of mucus and blood that was now coating the palm of his hand.

He stared straight forward, turning and taking a few steps forward until he was in front of the clock, staring at the floor with a dead look in his eyes. He silently kneeled down in front of her, soon lowering himself until he was lying on the ground, his face and body pressing against the shaggy, old carpeting. Blood began to seep from his nose, dripping onto the floor below him as he grew still. He stared at nothing, eyes widened enough to be able to see the blood vessels, all before they shut closed. It was warm near it. It was nice being near her. It was nice to be Home.

Day three, 1:00 PM

 Adam didn’t wake up that morning.

 Day four, 12:27 PM

 Adam awoke on the floor of the living room with a gasp. His bloodshot eyes stared forward with a half-lidded stare as he gained his bearings. His chest felt tight, and his limbs and back ached as he pushed himself off of the floor. His lungs stung with every harsh breath as he sat up. He paused as he sat on his knees, staring at the floor blankly in silence.

He doubled over and gagged, soon puking up everything in his body. Bile and blood poured out of his mouth as he spat it out on the ground in front of the clock, feeling his lungs burn and his stomach churn with every heave of his chest. He gasped and choked as thick, dark blood dripped from his mouth, the smell of bile stinging his nose as he stared at the red-stained carpet in front of him. He shakily pushed himself to his feet, wiping his mouth with his hoodie’s sleeve, staining it a deep crimson that was barely visible in the black fabric. He turned towards the front door, regaining the light in his eyes before grabbing his stuff from the couch and approaching the door.

He was greeted to Jonah staring at him from the van with a mix of relief and horror. Adam stepped off of the porch, stumbling slightly before he planted his shoes on the driveway, prepared to tell Jonah about—

“A-Adam.”

Jonah was hugging him.

Adam stared at Jonah with confusion, noticing he was shaking slightly as he wrapped his arms around Adam tightly. Adam stared at him for a few moments before shaking his head and pushing Jonah away.

“What is up with you,” He questioned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jonah had tears in his eyes as he answered. “I-I…I th…thought you died.”

“What?” Adam scoffed. “Dude, I was literally out here last night, I told you I’d talk to you in the morning.”

Jonah stared at him blankly as Adam shook his head and brushed past him, throwing his blankets into the van. Jonah couldn’t take his eyes off of Adam as he nonchalantly grabbed the laptop and look through the camera feeds. It was as if Jonah was afraid to let Adam out of his sight, wondering if he was even looking at Adam at all. Jonah didn’t expect Adam to explain why he didn’t respond to his calls, or Jonah banging on the door and window, or even Jonah yelling at him to get out, so despite Jonah’s own need to know what happened, he remained silent.

Jonah was terrified, and for once, he wasn’t sure if he was scared of the House or Adam himself.

 Day Five. 12:45 AM

 Jonah sat in the passenger seat with his legs propped up on the dashboard, brows furrowed as he stared forward at the garage door. He glanced at Adam through the rearview mirror, seeing that he was, once again, fiddling with his camcorder. “You’re going back in, aren’t you.” Jonah asked, though it sounded less like a question and more of a statement.

“Come on dude, not this shit again.” Adam scoffed. “I’ll be out in a couple hours.” Adam began to crawl out of the van, exiting the vehicle but being stopped by the passenger door swinging open and Jonah stepping out as well.

“No.”

“…What?”

“I said no.” Jonah repeated as he clenched his fists. “We were here for three days; that’s all we were being paid for. We’re done.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Adam shook his head slightly and attempted to walk past Jonah, only for him to step in front of him.

“No. There was no cat, we stayed for the three days,” Jonah said. “So therefore…we’re done.”

Adam glared at Jonah with a twitching jaw.

“I don’t give a shit how ‘interesting’ this fucking house is; I’m taking us home.” Jonah continued. “You can come crawling back later, but I’m not coming with you. Besides, Sarah’s probably starting to worry about us—”

“Who gives a shit what she thinks?” Adam snapped. “It’s not like she gets it.”

“What?”

“Think about it, all she does all day is take calls and make videos. That’s it.” Adam stepped towards Jonah. “She knows nothing of the real shit that’s going on here, and I’m going to find out.”

“Adam, listen to yourself—” Jonah pleaded, blocking Adam’s way when he once again attempted to walk past him. “You were never this much of a dick, were you?”

“Look, I get you don’t like Her, but can you at least suck it up for a few hours?” Adam questioned.

“Suck what u—”

A high pitched screech startled the two out of their argument, causing them to snap their attention back to the house. Jonah froze like a deer in headlights, all while Adam stared at where the sound originated with a look of curiosity behind his widened eyes.

“Oh…oh, fuck this—” Jonah began to turn back towards the van, only to be stopped by an iron grip on his wrist. He turned back, seeing Adam holding his arm as he stared at the front door, still hearing faint shrieking coming from inside. “A-Adam, let me go—” Jonah managed to free himself, only when Adam began to storm towards the door, swinging it open and entering the house once again. Jonah stared in horror before he clenched his fists harder with a huff.

“Hello?” Adam called as soon as he closed the door behind him. He awaited a response as he looked into the dark house, looking at the camcorder in his hand before he turned on night-vision mode and pointed it forwards. He saw the clock, the piano, the basement door, and everything else through a green, monochromatic lens, using the camera to see as he once again walked through the house, listening to the faint, high pitched screams that continued to sound.

He stepped through the kitchen, looking up to see the source of the screams; a pipe jutting out of the ceiling, releasing air fast enough to cause the sound. Adam sighed in disappointment, lowering his camera as he thought about turning back. However, as he turned, he began to hear a new sound, coming from behind him. It was music, and when Adam looked up, he saw a camera in the corner near the ceiling of the kitchen, playing the music through the speaker. Its red light flickered, and its lens was pointed towards Adam as if it was staring at him directly.

Adam turned towards the back hallway, seeing that it was longer than he remembered, stretching into the dark as music played from within the blackness. Adam stared into the hall, hearing the speaker of the camera crackle slightly, the music continuing as Adam carefully approached it. He stood in the middle of the hallway, noticing that there was an indented line in the walls and floor from where the locked door was, as if it simply vanished. He was able to hear faint breathing in front of him. He could see a red light flickering near the top corner of the hallway. He swallowed hard before holding his radio up. “Jonah?”

“Adam, I swear to God, please—”

 “Shh.” Adam slowly turned the tripod camera that was on the floor around with his foot, pointing it into the dark. “Watch.”

Adam stared into his camcorder’s screen, all before he slowly rose it up, pointing it towards the small red light he saw in the dark. He froze, eyes widening as he stared through the screen, feeling his heart sink while he stared at the thing in front of him.

“…oh my god.” Adam muttered, gagging slightly.

Attached to the CCTV camera was an arm, its hand wrapped around the metal casing, fusing with it with tendrils made of skin. Wires hung from the bottom of it, draping down before fusing with the arm, pushing the skin up as it ran down underneath the skin. Adam followed the arm, seeing that the figure was cloaked by a grey sweatshirt, halfway fused with its skin. Adam’s breathing remained calm despite his shaking hands as he saw that the figures torso was halfway in the wall near the top of the doors, with its right arm fused with the wallpaper. Veins and tendrils of skin and fabric spread from the fusion point, and he could see blood vessels underneath it. The figures ribcage was visible through the fabric, with a golden cross hanging in front of its sternum. Adam could swear he saw the outline of organs, but decided to look up at the figures face to push the idea away.

Its face was deathly pale and acne-ridden. Its left eye was covered by messy, chestnut brown hair, though its right eye was completely missing, with only the indent of an eye socket being left behind. Its mouth was gone, as if the lips fused together, making the nose the only facial feature left. Adam stared up at the figure stuck in the wall, seeing that it was eerily still, though Adam almost wished he wasn’t breathing. He hated that the man was alive.

“Adam, what the fuck is that.” Jonah questioned from the radio, his voice shaking. “A…A-Adam, what the FUCK IS THA—”

Click.

Adam placed the radio back onto his belt before he pulled out his spirit box from his pocket, flicking it on and hearing it rapidly cycle through various radio frequencies. Adam stared at the figure’s face, all before speaking.

“How did you…become like this?”

The music stopped.

“…Where are you from?” Adam asked.

Quiet static was the only response from the camera’s speaker.

“…Do you remember your name?”

The figure remained still, his breath appearing to become heavier, with his ribs shifting with every breath. Adam stared up at the figure, brows furrowing as he awaited a response, despite beginning to think he was incapable of communication at all.

“Are you—”

“Get. Out.”

Adam looked up, noticing that the voice wasn’t coming from the spirit box at all, instead coming from the camera fused to the figures left hand.

“I’m…not here to hurt—”

“GET. OUT.” The figure shifted, causing Adam to step back in surprise. The figures head tilted to the side, his hair moving out of the way enough to make his left eye visible. It was wide, cloudy, and bloodshot, clearly unable to be seen through.

“…Do you remember your name?” Adam asked again, despite the air of anger coming from the figure in front of him.

The figure didn’t respond with much more than him shifting, seemingly attempting to tear himself away from the wall, pulling himself away as much as he could before it let out a muffled, pained sound and relaxing once again, lowering his head. Silence fell before Adam glanced to the side, quietly shutting off the tripod camera as he kept his camcorder fixed on the figure.

“Who…are…you.”

Adam looked up at the figure, seeing that he was vaguely facing his direction, slowly pushing the camera towards Adam’s face. It became close enough to where Adam could see the lens clearly, noticing that behind the glass was a green iris instead of a simple camera.

“…My name’s Adam.” Adam stated. “I work for the Bythorne Paranormal society.”

The figure remained silent, still as the camera examined Adam’s face through the black and white footage.

“Do you remember your name?” Adam asked for a third time, beginning to lose his patience.

The figure returned back to its original position, twitching slightly before his head turned away.

“…M…Mark.” The camera’s speaker played, it sounding more human than before. “Mark…H…Heathcliff.”

Heathcliff.

Adam thought for a moment before speaking again. “Do you know…someone named…Sarah Heathcliff?”

Mark’s head turned towards him, and despite what was visible on his face having no eyes, Adam felt that his stare was cold.

“…Where…is…she…?” Mark asked.

“I work with her.” Adam stated. “She works at the BPS…like me.”

“Is she…s…safe?”

Adam’s brows furrowed as he noticed that Mark was shaking. “Yes.”

“Does…she…remember me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does she remember me.” Mark repeated.

“I just told you, I don’t know—”

“DOES. SHE. REMEMBER. ME.”

Adam remained silent as Mark shifted again, lowering his camera and facing away. “…She’s…safe.” He muttered through the static. “She’s…alive.”

Adam spotted a clear liquid dripping from the camera’s lens; tears.

“How did…you become like this?” Adam questioned.

“Leave.” Mark’s voice shook slightly. “You’re…a…fool for coming here.”

“I did what I had to do.”

“You…you don’t care about him…do you?” Mark questioned.

“…Who?”

“Your…friend.” Mark elaborated. “He’s…w-waiting outside…for you.”

“How can you tell?”

“I can…see…him.”

The camera feed from the outer side of the house pointed towards the driveway, watching as Jonah paced back and forth on the driveway.

“I…hate you.” Mark stated as he switched his attention back to Adam, causing him to stare at him in confusion. “You…people like you are the reason I’m…like this. Does that…answer your fucking question?”

“I never did anything—”

“You ignored him.” Mark interrupted. “…You dragged him here. You put him in danger.”

“He’s an idiot.” Adam snapped. “He doesn’t know how deep this case goes. He doesn’t understand Her like I do.”

Mark remained still at that statement, his camera pointed at Adam’s furious expression.

“…God…It has you too.”

“…What?”

“ADAM!”

Adam turned around to hear Jonah bursting through the front door, looking around the living room with a look of anger. Adam took one last glance at Mark before shutting off his camcorder and turning back towards the living room; all while the security cameras he passed by followed his movement.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” Adam questioned as soon as he entered the living room, seeing that Jonah was standing in front of the clock. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“I’m done, okay?” Jonah snapped. “We’re fucking leaving, and you’re coming with me.”

“Dude, I’m so close to figuring out this place, I just need to spend more time with her—”

“SHUT UP!” Jonah shouted. “I’m fucking DONE with you. You keep ignoring me; acting like I’m a fucking moron for just wanting you to be safe. We are leaving, and we’re leaving now.”

“Are you fucking serious?!” Adam snapped. “You’ve done nothing but whine the entire trip. We finally find something worth our time, something meaningful, and you decide to be too much of a fucking coward to help me with it. Can’t you take a single second to not joke and actually take this seriously?”

“Look, I get it, I joke around sometimes, but that’s just what I do.” Jonah defended.

“Well, maybe it shouldn’t be.”

“I’m done; whatever the fuck is here is gonna get you killed, and I’m not going to be here to check for a pulse.” Jonah’s breath was harsh as he spoke, all while Adam’s silent fury rose.

“Just FUCKING LEAVE THEN!” Adam pointed towards the front door as he yelled. “LEAVE.”

Jonah stared at Adam in a stunned silence, his head shaking slightly and his brows turning downwards.

“I’m not leaving.” Adam stated. “Not now. I’ll figure out this thing…I will.”

Silence fell as the two stared at each other, a tense mood in the air until Jonah spoke quietly.

“…Eve was right about you.”

Adam froze, staring at Jonah with a mix of shock and anger, his eyes strangely…dead.

“You really are just a fucking prick.”

Jonah was barely able to process the first punch Adam threw at him.

Jonah stumbled back, lightly pressing his hand against the red splotch on his face as he let out a pained groan. Jonah looked back up, only to be greeted by Adam grabbing Jonah’s sweatshirt, holding him still before Jonah grasped his arms, pushing Adam away and causing him to drop his camcorder to the ground. Adam glanced at the camera on the floor, muttering to himself.

“You son of a BITCH—”

Adam swung another punch at Jonah, who only barely dodged it, causing Adam to slam his fist against the clock’s glass, shattering it. The clocks bells rung, and pipes squealed, but neither seemed to notice, Adam staring at Jonah with a blank, yet furious expression, not seeming to be effected by the glass in his fist. Jonah slammed his fist against Adams face, though it barely seemed to get a reaction out of him aside from an exclamation of pain.

Adam grasped Jonah’s arms as they struggled, Jonah attempting to free himself from Adam’s fury-fueled attack and Adam attempting to get closer. Jonah managed to free himself, grasping Adam’s neck with a free hand and pushing him back, his eyes widened and his heart beating out of his chest. He grasped his “friend’s” neck hard enough to make Adam choke slightly, his pale hands gripped onto Jonah’s leather-covered arm. Adam was slammed against the clock, only causing the glass shards left to fall into the compartment inside. Adam was stronger than Jonah, and he knew it, and as he reached for Jonah’s face, he knew he’d prove it.

He grasped Jonah’s nose ring and tore it out.

Jonah let out a loud yell, stumbling back and holding his hand over his rapidly bleeding nose, the crimson blood oozing onto his bruised hand. Jonah’s wide eyes were fixated on the ground, eyes tearing up as he covered the lower part of his face. Adam stared at Jonah as he rubbed his neck lightly, looking down to see the bloody nose piercing in his other hand, seeing a small piece of flesh that came with it. Adam glanced back at Jonah, only to see him staring back with a haunted, yet furious expression. Before he did anything stupid however, he simply walked backwards, soon quickly turning around and running for the door, slamming it behind him.

Adam stared at the door, his breath heavy as he looked down at the floor, seeing his camcorder on the ground before he leaned over and retrieved it, seeing that the screen on it was cracked. He stared at it, letting out a soft sigh before closing it and staring at nothing in particular. He looked at his right hand, seeing the shards of glass sticking out of the flesh, with dark blood seeping from every cut. It hurt; Adam could finally feel it.

He looked back towards the front door when he heard the sound of the van starting, walking towards the living room window and pushing open one of the curtains to see outside. The van was pulling out of the driveway, hesitating on the street before speeding down the road, leaving Adam in the dust. He felt his heart begin to race, his emotions finally making themselves known as he reached for his radio, switching it on.

“Jonah?” He called. “Jonah, where are you going?”

Radio silence.

“Jonah?!” Adam repeated, his voice hoarse. “God fucking damn it, please—”

Adam was interrupted by the sound of a door closing somewhere in the house, snapping him out of his train of thought. He turned towards the other side of the house, realizing the sound was from the back hall. He looked down at his camcorder, his instinct telling him to turn it on, but instead, he simply placed it on top of the television before walking carefully towards the hallway.

Adam stood near the entrance of the hallway, seeing that the tripod had been knocked over, with the camera’s lens being broken entirely. He looked up, seeing Mark was completely still once again, the camera and its veins dangling from his spot near the ceiling. Adam turned to the left, seeing a door he hadn’t noticed before, seeing that it was cracked open slightly. He grasped the door handle, swinging it open and stepping inside.

It was presumably a guest bedroom, though it was completely empty, without any beds or furniture. A single window was in the opposite wall, and when Adam turned around, he saw a closet door right beside the entrance to the room. The wallpaper was a plain grey, and the wooden floors appeared strangely soft, despite the flooring in the rest of the home feeling perfectly stable. He stepped further into the room, soon standing in the middle of it seeing that there was nothing of note in there. Perhaps he imagined the sound.

“What…have…you…done.”

Adam froze when he heard the voice behind him, slowly turning to see what was speaking, only to stare in horror at the figure in front of him. It was a man, or what appeared like one, leaning down slightly just to fit in the room. He had an eerily large smile, with what appeared to be small veins draping from his mouth. His wide, bloodshot right eye stared at Adam, with his other being nothing but arteries and veins pouring out from his eye socket, fusing with his skin. His black, wavy hair was messy, though it appeared to be hastily and lazily brushed to the side. The face was vile to look at, making a pit form in Adam’s gut, but his body was worse.

His legs and arms were stretched out to impossible lengths, the bones curved and bent in unnatural ways, cloaked by a torn, stitched together black suit, which was complimented by a white dress shirt, red bowtie, and a wilted rose on his lapel. Adam looked towards its torso, seeing that his ribs were in plain view, with his suit and skin wrapped around them and his spine as if he didn’t have any organs whatsoever. Veins and strands of skin and fabric swayed in the empty cavity, attaching themselves to his spine and pelvis bones. He looked starved; BEYOND starved even, as if he was literally nothing but skin and warped bones. Adam looked back up at the figures face, seeing that his smile was fading slightly.

“You…aren’t a polite guest…” It stated. “She doesn’t appreciate that…you really hurt her, you know...”

“Who are you?” Adam questioned, wondering if he should have asked what the thing was rather than who as soon as he asked the question.

“That doesn’t matter right now, Murray.” The figure smiled again as he folded his boney hands together. “I just…wanted to talk for a little while.”

 2:13 AM

 Jonah was sobbing as he stared at the dark roads in front of him, using one hand to steer and the other to hold his continuously bleeding nose wound. He had run out of tears to shed, despite his dry sobs and cries as he drove past the speed limit, pushing away his worries of sliding off of the road. He hyperventilated, shaking his head before pulling over to the side of the road, next to a field that sat at the left and right of the road.

Jonah let go of the steering wheel, using the other hand to cover his nose, noticing that he could taste blood, and now the blood was drying to his face. He stared forward, thoughts running in his mind faster than a racecar.

“You left him behind, like a coward.”

“He was right about you.”

“Don’t you miss being there?”

“Don’t you want to go back?”

“You want to go back.”

“She misses you.”

“Come back home—”

Jonah was interrupted by the sound of the radio blasting music, causing him to let out a small yell out of shock. His heart sunk as he listened to the familiar 80’s tune, with the first lyrics, “Like the wind” feeling like pins to his ears. “Shut up…s-shut the fuck up…” Jonah sobbed as he felt the thoughts run through his head, all of which feeling not his own. The music continued, despite his pleas. Leave me alone, please. God, I’m sorry, please just leave me be. Please just get the FUCK OUT OF MY HEA—

 2:33 AM

 Jonah was silent as he drove back into Mandela, ignoring his smashed radio and the pain in his foot. His eyes were tired; defeated. He could only hope Adam got his shit together as he made his way back. Jonah couldn’t help but notice a strange feeling deep in his gut as he drove back, something he couldn’t pinpoint.

However, it felt similar to homesickness.

 Adam couldn’t move his eyes away from the alternate in front of him as it spoke, its smile not fading once during its monologue. “You were invited here, you know.” It stated. “I expected you to be…better. However…you…had to ruin that, didn’t you?”

“I never did anything.”

“You hurt her.” The alternate said, seeming to have a tone of sadness. “You…really hurt her tonight. Do you hear it, Murray?”

The alternate grew silent as Adam listened, hearing nothing until the sound finally reached his ears; creaking. He could hear the clock ticking in the living room as well, though it began to sound less of a clock and more of a heart beating.

“She’s stressed.” The alternate said. “The walls…are creaking. Her heart…is racing. All because…you decided to be…a very…disrespectful guest.”

Adam had no clue what to say, only able to listen as the alternate continued.

“…Though…that was your goal from the very start, wasn’t it?” The alternate asked. “You came here…not because you wanted to honor her…you came her to study her…like an animal.” The alternate glanced to the side. “Though…despite it all…you…remind me of me.”

“…What?”

“You remind me of how I acted so long ago…so…disobedient.” The alternate said. “So…lost. Home made me whole again…and she was willing to give you that offer. Though…perhaps its best you refused. She needs me after all, not something like…you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Adam questioned.

“Have you ever felt...isolated, Murray?” the alternate asked as it inched closer. “As if you were never understood by the people you called friends, shunned by those you cared for? Wondering why; why can't I feel anything of worth towards these people...?”

           Adam stepped backwards, further into the room until he was directly in the center of it.

“Well, you were never meant to be understood.” The tall alternate continued. “You're trying to find a mother that was never truly yours. Trying to fit into skin that does not belong to you. Don't you see? The child in the crib that night has been dead for years...though I can't help but feel as though you knew that already.

The alternate leaned down, staring Adam in the eyes as it asked one final question.

“You were never, truly, 'Adam Murray'....were you?"

Adam could only stare in confused horror as the alternate stood tall over him, letting out a forced laugh. “Well…I suppose it doesn’t matter, now does it…” The alternate said. “She’s…been starving for so long. So perhaps…this is the best fate for you.”

Adam didn’t understand what was being told to him, only able to stare with wide, horrified eyes until he felt an intense burning in his feet. He looked down, attempting to move his legs, only to find that they were planted in the ground, the soles of his shoes appearing to “melt” into the flooring as he felt himself slowly sink. He let out panicked yells and calls for help as he attempted to tear his legs from the floor, all while the alternate watched, slowly backing out of the room, into the darkness, leaving Adam to himself.

Adam felt his skin melt and bones deconstruct under his weight, being absorbed by the “wooden” flooring as he screamed, pulling out his radio as a final attempt to get help. “JONAH!” He screamed. “JONAH PLEASE, HELP ME!” He felt a surge of pain hit him at once, causing him to drop the radio to the ground. He screamed in agony as the radio sunk into the ground, Adam feeling as he sunk down to his thighs, crying in both mental and physical turmoil, unheard by anyone who would care.

 The first thing Jonah heard when he pulled into the driveway was screaming.

He parked the vehicle, shutting it off as he listened closely, his breath quickening when he came to the realization that he wasn’t simply hearing things. He stared at the house, taking in a deep breath before opening the door of the van, slamming it shut as he rushed towards the house, shouting Adam’s name as he approached. He opened the door and ran into the house, closing the door while unaware of the van slowly sinking into the driveway’s pavement.

“ADAM?!”

Adam could hear Jonah’s voice rapidly approaching, unable to call back as he screamed, attempting to free his right arm, which was sinking into the ground beside him. Jonah ran into the room, looking around before staring at Adam, his face changing to pure horror as he saw that Adam was halfway through the ground, his hoodie and skin fusing with the floor like liquid. Dark, thick blood oozed from Adam’s nose and mouth as he shrieked in anguish, Jonah being unable to do anything but back away, his head shaking slightly as he muttered to himself, attempting to convince himself that it wasn’t real as he leaned against the room’s wall.

Adam stared at Jonah with a pleading look in his teary eyes; an expression that told a million words. It was an expression that said “I’m sorry” without saying a single word, despite it being far too late for apologies. Jonah attempted to move from the wall, beginning to scream when he realized he was stuck, unable to move. He turned to the right, seeing his right arm, which was bent towards the ceiling, was slowly fusing with the grey wallpaper, his leather jacket becoming one with his skin and melding to the wall. Jonah attempted to turn his head forward, only screaming harder and louder when he was greeted by a burning pain from the right side of his face as it too attached to the wall.

Adam could do nothing but watch, barely able to feel his chest as his arms sunk below the surface, staring at Jonah as his legs and arms sunk into the wall behind him.  Adam’s screaming continued until his mouth was taken too, watering eyes watching Jonah suffer all before his head went under. Adam expected to die; to cease to exist entirely. However, he found himself floating weightlessly within a dark void, unable to speak, see, or hear. He pondered if he was in Hell, all until he surfaced.

He sat up, finding that he was lying in a pool of red, thick liquid. He looked down, barely able to see his own hands, though he could make out that they were covered in blood. He frantically looked around, seeing that he was back in the house, though it appeared…different. It was mirrored, and some of the furniture was floating as if in water. Adam noticed as he stood up that his hair and clothes also rippled, moving as if he was under the sea. He could barely see that he was in the living room, or at least a version of it that was warped and twisted. He continued to survey his surroundings until he froze, holding his hand up to his neck as he realized something.

He couldn’t breathe.

Adam choked, feeling as if he was drowning in air as he stumbled around, the blood splashing with every movement of his feet. He felt something attaching to his right ankle, similar to the burning he felt as he sunk into the floor, and with it, he began to feel a heartbeat that wasn’t his own. He was suffocating, unable to get a single breath in as much as he tried. His wide eyes darted around in a panic, all before fixating on something he saw in front of him.

Standing in the dark was a young man, cloaked in a black suit, near identical to the alternate he saw. However, he was…human. He was staring at Adam with a mix of confusion, fear, and concern, unmoving as Adam stared back, trembling as he attempted to get a single breath of air into his lungs.

The man began to walk towards Adam, slowly approaching, as if hesitant. Adam was going to die in that hellscape; he believed so with his entire heart. He could do nothing but silently panic as the man grew closer, slowly raising his blood-coated hand until he stopped directly in front of Adam. Silence fell, the man nodding slightly before he rose his other hand up and shoved Adam to the ground.

Adam fell through the blood, as if no floor was there in the first place, finding himself in the dark, inky “sea” once again. He looked down, seeing a faint light in the distance, and as he felt his thoughts become foggy, he swam towards it. He scrambled for the light reaching towards it as his vision became blurry. It grew closer and closer, and Adam could feel cool air instead of the warm blood he was in. He began to black out, wondering if it was the end.

Until he finally made it out.

He took in a harsh, deep breath when he felt himself resurface, coughing up blood and bile onto the floor in front of him, his body trembling. His eyes flicked open, his vision tunneled as he regained his bearings, breathing in the cool air of the room he was in. He looked down at himself, breath hitching when he saw that his legs were missing, with only his waist up protruding from the floor. His hoodie appeared to have fused with his skin and unhealthily thin frame, the BPS logo on his chest melting into the rest of the fabric. He pressed his hands against the now solid floor, all before pausing, raising his hand in front of his face as he stared at them.

The skin in his hands appeared somewhat transparent, like ballistic gel. He could see his veins and bones, along with the faint red color of his equally transparent muscles. He stared at his cold, thin hands before looking down at the floor, noticing something right beside his body; his piercings. They were in a small pile, and when Adam felt his lip and ears, he realized that they seemed to have been ejected from his body entirely. He wanted to scream, though he was unable to find his voice as he looked towards the wall, seeing that Jonah had suffered a similar fate.

Jonah was halfway through the wall, his back completely consumed by the wallpaper. His ribs were visible through his white sweatshirt, and his lower legs had sunken into the wall, fusing with it. His face made Adam’s heart sink, seeing that his teeth were visible, as if his lips had disappeared and his skin fused with his gums. His skeletal face had thin veins visible from under the thin skin, and his teeth seemed to have even grown in the wrong places, as if mimicked improperly. His left eye had shifted to the side of his head, staring straight forward before it fixated on Adam’s form. He let out quiet whimpers, his jaw twitching with every sound.

Adam stared back at Jonah’s one remaining eye, feeling something emitting from it; a feeling. It was a feeling that made Adam’s gut churn just by feeling it coming from Jonah. It was a look that said a simple request, and nothing more:

“Kill me.”

[theflyingfeeling]

Second Day of Gift-Giving: Two Dialogue Partners

Prompt: "Oh, you’re cold! Do you want my hoodie?"

This part is a continuation of the first part, which you can read here!

~

There was snow in Oulu. That was the first thing Aleksi noticed when he opened his eyes after landing. He was sure the snowline actually went somewhere far souther, but he had decided to rest is eyes a little shortly after take-off, since even Rilla was wise enough to do so, curled up in his carrier by Aleksi’s feet. Aleksi supposed she, too, was exhausted from the early wake-up call after the restless night they had had; however, Aleksi doubted the reason for Rilla’s uneasiness was less due to being just too damn excited about seeing Aleksi’s bandmate and perhaps more due to ‘pillow moving too much’ (the ‘pillow’ in question being Aleksi).

It was also a lot colder in Oulu than it had been in Helsinki when they had left, which shouldn’t have been a surprise. Still, Aleksi found his teeth clattering as he sat down on the passenger seat of Olli’s sedan, wondering how on earth he had imagined he would be warm enough in just his leather jacket and a longsleeve.

“Yeah, sorry, the air conditioning is stuck on freezing. I’m gonna have it fixed later this week,” Olli explained, and Aleksi was tempted to ask if he meant the air conditioning of his car or of the entire north of Finland.

The drive from the airport to Olli’s place wasn’t hopelessly long, but long enough for Aleksi to still be quivering moments after they had already entered Olli’s pleasantly warm apartment. Although Aleksi tried his best to hold back the shivers, he saw Olli looking at him with a slight frown.

“You’re still cold? Do you need to borrow a hoodie?”

Without waiting for an answer, Olli disappeared into his bedroom and seconds later came back with a grey bundle in his hands, passing it to Aleksi.

“Here, I wore it briefly after a shower this morning, so it’s practically unused. I hope that’s alright, all my other ones are in the laundry.”

Aleksi didn’t have the heart to tell Olli he had, in fact, packed some hoodies of his own, nor was he strong enough to fight against the prospect of getting to wear one of Olli’s incredibly soft hoodies again. The last time he had done so had been on their last tour, half by accident when Aleksi had grabbed the nearest piece of clothing to put on himself when he had gotten the chills mid-nap in the RV, half by some self-tormenting curiosity to find out if having something of Olli’s so close to him would have the same effect on him as having Olli near him. (It did, as it turned out, very much indeed, because in his light sleep, Aleksi had seen all sorts of surreal dreams with Olli starring in the main role, and when he had woken up, his mind had been dizzier than ever with everything he felt for his friend.)

The hoodie he was now pulling on himself smelled of fabric softener and, ever so slightly, of Olli’s cologne, which he must have put on before changing into the black sweater he was now wearing. Aleksi hugged himself and quietly thanked Olli as he leaned back on the living room sofa, smiling at Rilla excitedly running after a ball Olli had apparently bought for her just for the occasion. He huddled up further into the sofa while listening to Olli talk about a heated topic in the band group chat, and Aleksi wished he could’ve been paying more attention, but he was too distracted by the faint smell of Olli surrounding him to think about much else. Instead, he let his eyes close as Olli kept chattering away in his calming voice, both to him as well as to Rilla, and with all the sleep debt he was running on, it was too easy for Aleksi to fall asleep on the sofa; finally warm, finally where Olli was.

He hadn’t intended for the nap to last so long, however; when he next opened his eyes, the bits of sky he saw from Olli’s windows were pitch black, although it really was no shock considering how early the sun set around this time of the year. Blinking his eyes a few times, he noticed Olli had lit up candles on the coffee table and turned on the fairy lights above the TV. The man himself was sitting on the floor with his back resting against the sofa Aleksi was resting on, Rilla curled up on his lap. His hair tickled Aleksi’s forehead when he turned to look at him.

“Good nap?”

“Mmmmhhh. Yeah,” Aleksi answered and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry for falling asleep though.”

“It’s okay. You were tired.”

“Mmmmhhh,” Aleksi hummed again, too comfortable under the blanket that had somehow ended up on him to make an effort to sit up just yet. He closed his eyes again for just a few more seconds and listened to Olli move slowly, supposedly as to not bother Rilla too much.

Opening his eyes again, Aleksi found himself staring straight into Olli’s dark ones that glowed in the soft candlelight, studying him, holding his gaze as if he was trying to ask him something.

Aleksi wished he would have. He wished Olli would’ve asked him why he was so sleep-deprived, or why he had squeezed him so hard at the airport, or why he had smiled so blissfully while fondling the strings of the hoodie Olli had given him. He may not have been able to give an answer, albeit it being short and simple, but it would’ve been nice to be given the chance at least.

Now, with Olli’s eyes travelling on his face, Aleksi felt like he had no chance at all to do anything but let him, even though it was driving him crazy, having Olli’s face so close to his all of a sudden. He felt defenceless under Olli’s gaze that seemed indecisive about whether it should stay on Aleksi’s eyes or his mouth, which didn’t help Aleksi’s case in the slightest. His breath became shallow as he remembered the last time Olli had looked him like that, in the dim lighting of an American hotel room, and Aleksi would’ve given nearly anything for Olli to be the first to lean in this time as well, because Aleksi himself for sure didn’t have half the courage Olli seemed to have.

For a second (or two or three), it felt as if Olli was leaning in, at least close enough for Aleksi to feel him exhale before he straightened his back and glanced at the dog on his lap.

“Would you guys be down for some dinner soon? I’m getting kinda hungry,” he spoke, directing his words more towards Rilla, whose ears twitched at the mention of dinner.

Aleksi tried to find Olli’s gaze again and failed, because suddenly there must have been something extremely fascinating on Rilla’s fur instead, judging by how intently Olli was observing it.

“Sure,” Aleksi sighed. When Olli stood up, mumbling something about a frozen pizza before striding off to the kitchen with Rilla on his heels, Aleksi bit his lip at another lost opportunity to make up for all the time he had wasted pining after Olli and barely doing a damn thing about it. 

He could only hope the universe would be kind enough to grant him some more lucky chances like this; one of these days, he might actually lose it and make good use of them, at least once he had first untangled the massive knots of fear, worry and embarrassment. 

[the-crimson-crawler]

The Smell of Fear

Chapter 1 Six Months

The sound of wet drips hitting the concrete. The warm fluid flowing over his chest and hands. The foul taste flooded Peter's mouth The fading smell of fear. The visage of his-

“HEY SPIDER-MAN!” a portly New York cop wearing a puffy windbreaker beckoned for Peter Parker's attention. His jacket sleeves made a silky noise as he waved his arms at the webslinger Spider-Man had been crouched on top of a street light staring at traffic for the past 40 minutes.  He’d completely ignored several passersby up until this point, acknowledging the officer was just a force of habit. “Where’ve ya been!” The officer beckoned again, “Some freak monster was terrorizing the city for a whole month! SHIELD took care of it but we could’ve really used your help!” the officer pocketed his hands and looked up at the crimson crawler. Parker's crimson eyes stared back at the cop devoid of any expression. “I'm sorry.” Their voice was stiff and cold, barely loud enough for the officer to hear, but luckily he’d caught the response. “It's no worry Spider-Man! I don't think it even hurt anyone, but it was scary!” the portly officer had entered bad small talk territory but he didn't know if he’d ever get to speak to Spider-Man again so he just kept looking up to him waiting for a response instead of moving on with his morning routine.  Parker nodded his head “I'm glad no one was hurt, sir.” “Well,” the cop removed his hands from their pockets and gently patted his hips and looked side to side across the intersection, “see you Spider-Man! Have a nice day okay!” The cop entered the shop behind the street light and left the Crimson Crawler to himself.

  Peter slowly rose from his gargoyle position, his legs were quivering as he fully stood up. He was terribly shaken from the officers' mention of his absence and the incident with the monster SHIELD had taken care of. Craning his neck up to the nearest highrise they considered whether or not they should leave their perch. The officer would come out of the shop eventually and he’d hate to have to talk to him again after the dry conversation they’d just had. Decision made, he raised his hand and a thick cable of silk ejected from their wrist that smacked into the highrise. Spider-Man held it tight and tugged it taut before stepping off the street light and swinging into West Queens.

It's late fall in New York city, winter is right around the corner and it feels like everyone is preparing for Christmas just a little bit early this year. Crime has been at an all time low, there hasn't been some cataclysmic world event in just over six months, and the city is celebrating the election of its newest mayor, Jefferson Davis, who won a landslide election following the exposure of his opponent, millionaire Daniel Rand. Nothing bad has happened in ages and being Spider-Man should be easier than ever, but there is something negging at Peter Parker. A dark cloud hangs heavy over the crimson crawler that he thinks no one has noticed. Peter slowly opened a glass door into the office of  J. Jonah Jameson. He wore an old flannel jacket that had a grey hoodie underneath it. A small stack of papers and a usb stick were tucked under his arm. He strengthened his poor posture leading into greeting the editor of the Daily Bugle but right as he opened his mouth to speak he was interrupted. “Parker! There you are! Who knew we gave bereavement pay to interns!” Jonah released a quick hearty chuckle and planted both his fists into his sides. “You're back early, how are you handling things son?” Jameson never seemed to let his high attitude down at the office, so asking Peter how he felt caught him off guard. “Im,- i'm not handling it well sir, but i’ve gotta get a grip on things and have to move on” he quickly glanced around. Maybe that was a little too forward, showing vulnerability like that. I should've just said I was fine and ready to work. “I've got… bills and stuff to take care of” “I can respect that.” Jonah briefly paused. “I Know it's hard now son, but trust me, things will get better” Jonah gathered a few pieces of paper into his hands and smacked them on his desk to level them into a neat stack. “I've got a few gigs I need photographed today, you've got the first pick from these.” “Actually sir, i've brought you some pictures of Spider-Man” Peter approached the took a couple steps forward then removed the items from under his arm, handing them over to the editor. “Spider-Man is back?” He practically shouted,” So after having SHIELD do all the work with that howling demon the slacker finally decides to show his face once again!” The sentence was vocalizing the hook to the next slander piece that would appear online about Spider-Man. “Give em here Parker, and get me those pictures from that bookstore opening on 50th and Park. That's the one you’ll wanna take.”

After Peter handed the items over, Jonah flicked his hand towards the door before turning towards his window and looking over the photos Peter had taken. Peter took the bus to that new bookstore he had to take pictures of, he’d been “borrowing” a camera as part of his internship for the better part of 2 years. Peter had gotten into his internship at such a young age due to his connection to the journalist prodigy Mary Jane Watson, whom he had met as a freshman in high-school. MJ was first published in the Daily Bugle at the age of 14 with a small article about local economic fluctuations within NYC’s burrows. The Bugles' more dedicated readers were vocally surprised with her insights compared to her age and it got her several interviews which culminated in a scholarship to Visions Academy. Her good friend Peter took pictures for her articles and subsequently found himself taking photos for the Daily Bugle shortly after. But since Peter had dropped out of school to focus more on being spider-man the only thing keeping the two connected was Mary's deduction to keeping in touch with Peter. When he’d arrived at the bookstore he was very surprised to see Mary waiting for him at the bus stop outside of the bookstore. “Hi Peterrrr!” Marry hung on the last syllable of his name. Peter sighed and tried to smile,”Hi MJayy. I'm gonna guess you're writing a piece on the bookstore?” “I am! And I'm going to guess that you're taking pictures here too?” MJ teased. “Yeah, JJ told me I'd really like this job.” he smirks and lifts his camera up. Through the viewfinder he sees Mary Jane Watson.  She had luxurious ruby red hair that contrasted excellently with her pale skin and freckled face. Her outfit consisted of a green blazer over a maroon blouse and high waist slacks with light brown leather boots . She was the same age as Peter, around 18, and almost the same height as him at six foot. She looked stunning.  Behind her was a comically large crowd out front of the new bookstore, a stylish logo adorned the outer wall in a deep red cursive text that read Strange Literature. The crowd was more for the owner of the store over the concept of a local cafe bookstore fusion. Peter steadied his hand and took the picture.

MJ chuckled as she handed Peter his press badge. Once he’d put it on Mary took his hand and walked them across the road. Parker instinctively wanted to yank away his hand. She’s too happy to see me. Does she know what happened? Has she heard from someone else? I  didn't know Doctor Strange opened a bookstore. Why would a superhero need to open a bookstore in Manhattan let alone The Sorcerer Supreme. Money Laundering? Too much feels surreal right now. This has to be a setup. An intervention. Peter furrowed his eyebrows and focused more on his thoughts. Well…Mary wouldn't be this cheerful if it was though. Maybe it's a coincidence. I should just be happy to see her. Before they've made it across the street he’s accepted the gesture. They brushed through the swarm of people outside and made their way to a fenced off patio which had a file line leading out the door. As they approached the entrance Mary held out her badge to a doorman and Peter did the same. They continued into the shop and were greeted by a voice familiar to Spider-Man. “Ms. Watson, welcome,” greeted the deep and modulated voice of Stephen Strange. He wore his iconic red cloak over a deep blue casual suit. With a pleasant smile he continued, “it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” MJ approached him and put out her hand. “The pleasure is mine Doctor Stra– – -” She stutters and is cut off as all saturation fades away alongside the halting echoes of the idle sounds surrounding Peter and Stephen, who still remain fully intact full of color and sound. The world around them became dull and somewhat fractured. Peter's heightened senses seemed to take a long deep breath over the lack of activity of anything in the air. He looked over to MJ, whose hand was still outstretched to shake her interviewees hand. Intervention, I knew it. 

The Magicians scarred hands glowed with the light of magic projected rings. “Come take a seat with me Parker” Strange gestured over to a small cafe built into the corner of the dual-story bookstore. In the seating area sat two cups of steaming coffee on a small circular oak table. Strange pulled out the chairs for both of them with a wave of his hand and they took their seats. Strange opens “I heard about your uncle Peter.” he rested his hands beside the steaming cup “I know it must be hard but we need to talk about it.”  Peter's face flushes red and he fights back tears. after stuttering he blurts out,”I-I- I don’t know what happened!” Stranges' eyebrows lowered and came together slightly, “I know Peter, but we gotta try and piece together what happened.” Peter looked longingly at Stephen as if begging to know why they must talk about this now “SHIELD has yet to locate that parasite and now their attention has returned to you, they’ve questioned me on how I felt about your competence, but I haven't seen you since the invasion six months ago. None of us have,” he sighs “I want to keep you off that raft peter. And I need you to communicate with me to do that.” Pete chuckles “I didn't know you had a doctorate in psychology” letting a smile escape and a joke out felt good but it quickly faded as the gravity of the situation reemerged. “I wish it wasn't me stephen.” he took a pause. "I've been thinking about it.” Stephen slightly tilted his head “what wasn't?” he asked, knowing the answer.

Peter adjusted his posture and contemplated how he wanted to continue. The answer felt sacrilegious but he knew just how to say it  “Spider-Man.”  Strange sighed heavily “I don't think anyone else could be Spider-Man, Peter. You have an excellent sense of justice. Your passion and drive to continue doing the right thing rivals even some of the Avengers. So much can be said about your quick thinking and decision making. The self sacrifice you commit every day is insane. You are so noble and selfless, I don’t know how anyone else could've been a better Spider-man.” A small silence was shared between them. The only discernible sensations were the smell of the untouched cups of coffee and their heat. “It was this ~sludge~ from a wreck.” Spider-Man broke the silence “I watched it slink over to me, it steadily approached and I didn't move. I felt attuned to it. Mesmerized, like it called to me.” Peter spoke slowly and carefully, his eyes looked detached from his mind staring deeply into the swirling coffee.

“Your sense?” Strange asked.  Peter's eyes slowly tracked back up to meet Stephens. “Yeah. sort of.”he said calmly “in a way i’d never felt before. It felt like longing, like a part of me I didn't know was missing. Like kin. I was completely ensnared. Not by charm but by this guttural desire to bond with it.” “And it claimed you?” Stephen cut in , he hoped that was the case as opposed to willingly adopting it. “no. I put my hand onto the ground and let it onto my hand. It slowly slinked up my forearm and it sank into me.” He finally reached for his cup of coffee. “It was a part of me and I didn’t even mind. Like an immediate bond.” Stephen tried to hide his shock at the nonchalance of Peter's confession. But it was hardly stifled. Spider-man clocked it and made an expression closely akin to puppy dog eyes. “I regret it.”  He took a large sip. Stephen mimicked the action after Peter finishes his. An obvious move to get Spider-Man to continue speaking. “What does your relationship to magic feel like Doctor Sorcerer Supreme? I felt like Spider-Supreme with this thing" Stephen sat up and adjusted his composure knowing he could answer this question well. “It feels like discipline. Like taming waves. I surf the ebbs and flows of the magical realms that exist alongside our reality. Although other sorcerers seek out to use the magic as a crutch to their own greed like I once did when I first sought out the school of sorcery. But succumbing to that greed led many great sorcerers to their demise.” Peter lets out another chuckle “like crack” Stephen returns the smile, “like crack yes.” still smiling, Peter continues. “I wasn't taming any waves, Stephen. It felt like I was a hurricane. A beast from beyond, given more means to meet my ends. More justice. I felt tuned perfectly. It felt good and I liked it. But-” he paused and his small smile dropped. He returned to staring at the moving fluid in his mug “then I hurt someone. I don't even remember who it was or why but they-they didn't deserve it” his eyebrows furrow, “and then I struggle to remember. I no longer am the hurricane, I become lost to it…” he tears up “and I-I-I don't know what happ-"  Stephen leaned over the table and rested his left hand on Spider-Mans’ shoulder. “I understand Peter, I'm very sorry” Stephen got up from his chair and stepped close to Peter, who almost threw his chair aside to get up and embrace Stephen in a hug. He sobbed quietly into the cloak of levitation. “- – – ange, i'm excited to interview you today for the Daily Bugle!” Mary Jane shook Doctor Stranges hand, he nodded at her as she let go. “And this is my photographer Peter Parker!”  She gestures to where Peter once stood but is bewildered by his absence, “Did you see Peter he was just here?” “I believe I just saw Mr. Parker take our picture and head outside to get some exterior photos of the store.” Strange politely states. “Oh. That's weird.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If you read this far, thank you so much! I really appreciate it.

I plan on making the second chapter in a day or two so expect something again by next week the latest <3

[symphonic-scream]

Here's a bunch more of the Gender Thieves

Futaba has the Thieves' Chat named "Fruity Bitch Parade" which, is fitting. They also assign each of the thieves a nickname as their contact name and shit just. They lightly haze them all it's a thing they do

So the Thieves at Shujin include Futaba, Ann, (A)Kira, and Makoto. Then Yusuke isn't in proper school they're in a conservatory, and Ryuji and Hifumi are at Kosei

So let's talk about the Shujin uniforms, ft Shiho and Haru!

Starting with Futaba, they wear the uniform normally, blazer buttoned up, skirt, but with bright green crocs, varying gamer themed socks, and with headphones around their neck

Kira! Blazer buttoned, black choker with a red heart, red headband, skirt rolled up once so it's an inch higher, knee socks, black loafers. Nothing too special, she tries to fly under the radar

Time for Ann. Open blazer, a volleyball team jacket under it, so it's red with a white zipper, red hood with the white inside. Black hair tie, wears the skirt a little high, I'm debating the knee pads. It would be funny if she wore them all the time, but, that's not realistic. And, pink runners, and the basic black crew socks

MAKOTO. At first it's canon Makoto, but then they get saved and come out and, well. Blazer is gone, instead it's an oversized blue plaid hoodie/jacket. They get their hands on some slightly large uniform pants, just big enough that they bunch up a bit, the crotch is lower, etc. They also wear the suspenders down, and some scuffed up dark blue vans type sneakers

Shiho is, canon, only she makes it to the end of the year. Thats all she's there the whole time

And, Haru. Our sweet boy. No blazer here, he subs it out for a pink formal sweater, a crew neck pull-over type. He wears suspenders under it, but you can't really see them. Just know they're there. His pants are always perfectly correct. He has some dress shoes too!

And. Psst. Makoto's suspenders? From Haru. Took his spares.

I have so much for Makoto and Haru since they're where this started. So, so much for them.

Makoto and Haru both have different favourite cuddle positions, and then there's one they both agree is amazing

Haru's favourite, especially after his top, is Makoto's head where his shoulder turns to upper arm, their arms wrapped snugly around his waist. It's the perfect position for him to admire their sleeping face, the cute little half smile, their little light snores, Haru adores it

Makoto prefers having their boyfriend on them like a weighted blanket. Lying between their legs, head over their belly, holding them like a giant pillow. Makoto loves to watch him sleep, and play with his hair. This position gives them the easiest access to both, while having Haru hold them like he's never letting go

And, of course, the compromise. Lying on their sides, Makoto tucked just under his chin, both holding the other so tight it's like they're one

Just. Makoto lying on Haru's bed in the gym uniform shorts and some T-shirt they bought with Ryuji post gym shopping, and Haru smiles from his desk. He loves them so much. Makoto finished their homework an hour before he did, and has been watching anime on their phone. The little Buchimaru socks.

Haru: hey, I'm done, didnt make you wait too long, did I?

Makoto: nah, but, you can still give me some kisses to convince me further?

And he carefully lies over them, and they share some lazy, sweet kisses

The Thieves in this are very used to their Emperor splitting their attention during meetings, texting under the table, while still helping plan things as if they weren't flirting with their boyfriend. It's a whole thing they're all low-key amazed

Also like. The only thieves that go by he being the little butch, bleached-hair nose-ring boy, and the prettiest most Gender one of them all is. A little funny to me (Makoto, Ryuji, and Yusuke)

Please. Ask me more about them I love them

[ninjadeathblade]

Moulin Rouge Discotrain AU (part four)

Summary: (Post-game canon) The Conductor and DJ Grooves agree to finally work on a movie together. They come up with 'Moulin Rouge', a musical drama filled with romance. Over time the two directors grow closer and discover that maybe they don't hate each other as much.

Beginning | Previous | Next

Warnings: Conductor thinking about his dead wife

Word count: 1,063

Author's notes: Heyyyy! Remember back in part one when I mentioned Owlice and Pinguini? Well they're making their debut! They're OCs that I came up with while working on this and will appear a fair bit in this AU so get used to them I guess. The chapters will eventually slow down in how often I'm posting them but I somehow have creativity right now so yeah. Have fun with this part!

Conductor looked up as Grooves walked into his office, a giddy grin on the penguin's face.

"What's got you so pleased?" Conductor asked, putting down his notepad.

"So you know how I said about Pinguini and Owlice?" Grooves replied, waiting for a nod before he continued. "Well, both of them are in today and I thought you could come and meet them."

Conductor considered saying no, continuing with his drafted scene ideas. But he wasn't going to get anywhere with that, he'd known that since he first started jotting more ideas down.

"Well, you said they might be good for the leadin' roles. Go on then, let's go and see them," Conductor said, standing from his desk.

"They're, um, they're actually outside right now," Grooves squeaked, standing in front of the Conductor.

"What? Why?"

"I thought it'd be quicker just to bring them here! But I think Owlice panicked and thought we were going to fire her," Grooves explained shyly. "What should we do?"

Conductor let out a put-upon sigh before shoving past Grooves and opening the door.

An owl and a penguin were sitting together on the floor, leaning back against the corridor wall.

But when the door opened both looked up, the owl scrambling to her feet while the penguin stood up at a slower pace.

The owl, presumably Owlice, wore large wire framed glasses that covered worried looking brown eyes. She wore a white lacy shirt and a small silver necklace hung around her neck.

The penguin, seemingly Pinguini, also wore glasses; but his were heart shaped sunglasses. He dressed like most of the Moon Penguins except for the fact he wasn't wearing a formal jacket. Instead he'd opted for a dark blue hoodie to go over his shirt.

"Alright then, you two had better come in." Conductor gestured back into the office.

Owlice swallowed nervously while Pinguini smiled. Grooves shut the door behind them once all four of them were in the office.

"So, Grooves tells me that yer both quite talented actors. What sections do you work in?" Conductor questioned.

"I- I work in costume design, s-sir," Owlice stuttered, looking on the verge of tears.

"Props. I work on lots of the laser guns for DJ's movies," Pinguini replied.

"Right then." Conductor nodded before refocusing on Owlice. "Lass, you're not being fired, so could ya please calm down?"

Owlice nodded, blinking a few times as she stared at him. "Yes, sorry sir, I was just nervous. If it was that I was going to get fired then I might've cried," Owlice explained, voice breaking slightly.

"Darling, do you need a minute?" Grooves offered and Owlice looked over at him.

"Oh, no, sorry sir, it's fine. I'm- I'm fine now, thank you very much," Owlice insisted.

"Right. As I was saying, Grooves here thinks yer both talented actors. But as I've just found out, neither of you are actually actors. So we'll give you the lead roles for now and see in a few weeks as to how everything is going. All good?"

Pinguini nodded and Owlice did too, albeit with less vigour than the penguin.

"Alright then, off you pop," Conductor dismissed them.

The owl and penguin hurried off and Grooves walked over to the Conductor's desk.

"That was nice of you."

"We need actors. And Owlice was going ta break down if I called her in here for nothin'."

"Why are you so against the movie having romance?" Grooves questioned suddenly. Conductor looked up at him, letting out a sigh as he recited one of Satine's possible lines he'd jotted down.

"I can't fall in love with anyone." Grooves' face knitted with confusion.

"Can't fall in love? But life without love- is terrible!" Grooves protested, holding onto Conductor's arm.

"No, being out of my job, that's what's terrible!" Conductor argued, remembering the few times he had tried romance movies.

He'd lost interest in that area after meeting his wife.

He'd only tried once to make another romance movie and that was after she died. He couldn't bring himself to do it in the end.

"No! Love is like oxygen!" Grooves argued before pausing, beak hanging slightly agape. "Are you crying?"

Conductor sniffed and hurriedly bought a hand to his face, scrubbing it across and catching the few falling tears.

"Nope. Now off you pop. I've got work to do," Conductor stated, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Whenever he thought of her he got upset.

It had been better in the more recent years but it might've been what caused the rift between him and his daughter back when it first happened.

He began to walk towards Grooves and the penguin instinctively backed away towards the door.

"We should be working together, darling," Grooves pointed out as his back hit the door.

"Just leave," Conductor sighed.

Grooves opened the door slowly, lingering in the frame of it as he turned to leave. "You know, if you ever wanted to talk about-"

"Just. Go." Grooves nodded and closed the door slowly.

Conductor let out a sob as he leant back against the door before sliding to sit on the floor.

"Peck I miss you."

Conductor uncurled himself at the knock on the door, standing up and opening it slightly.

"Um, sorry sir, is this a bad time?" Owlice asked, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to another. She held a basket in one wing, covered in a small dark purple cloth.

"What is it lass?" Conductor prompted gently, pushing his problems aside for a minute.

"Mr. Grooves asked me to give this to you," she explained, holding out the basket.

Conductor opened the door a little further, taking the basket from her.

"Thanks. Anything else?" Conductor checked.

"No sir. But everyone is packing up so I suggest you head home soon."

"Will do. Thanks again."

Conductor closed the door, sitting down on the floor again and rifling through the basket's contents.

One bottle of whiskey, two records of music from famous western films, and a couple of tickets for the movie marathon of the first five Annual Bird Movie Award winning films at the cinema.

"You pecking idiot. I didn't want all o' this," Conductor muttered, secretly touched by the action.

He stuck his head back out the door, shouting at Owlice as she walked down the hall.

"Tell him to bring them himself next time!"

[thelooniemoonie]

It's been quite a hectic time for me right now so focusing on art is hard, but if you want to listen to me schpeel about some OC wips feel free to read below:

So I've been working on making a ref sheet and design remake for my OC Frenzy, one of my oldest OCs from before junior high. I'm thinking of going with the following design:

This next pic was the previous wip i was doing back in 2021, but I've changed some stuff inbetween them:

Notes:

The 2021 design while did include a lot of elements pertaining to Frenzy and their personality, it felt a little too "formal". It didn't feel fitting for a character that's known to be hedonistic and gets into a lot of violent fights, so the outfit was toned down to a more "ruffian" kind of look.

Some elements are kept the same, like the jacket with the fur brim, which is a callback to even earlier designs I did of Frenzy where they wore a hoodie as part of their design. Trying to incorporate more "sharper" elements of the diamonds/eyes and the fur giving a wider more "feral" look pertaining to their personality.

Keeping the tail to a single feather to streamline the design and will keep the 3 tailed one for their full god form.

Frenzy's chest scar cannot be seen in the 2023 design unlike the 2021 one (the branching veins on the chest), but to switch it up I added the chaos symbol tattoo on their arm that would hint to their identity as the god of chaos.

Might incorporate some black in the design? The 2023 one resembles a little too much like Greed from FMA, so I don't want to put too much black. Frenzy is also always must be seen in white clothing, so perhaps some shades of red can be incorporated instead.

Designs can outfits can still be played around with for story purposes, it's simply that Frenzy has a "bleaching" effect to all their clothing, so they all turn white eventually. So parts like hair, eyes, and outfits can be freely switched around due to Frenzy being both a shapeshifter and genderfluid. General rules are white base, red and/or gold accents, and black accessories.

For fun here are some comparisons of my older art of this character, which can be repurposed:

Overall there tends to be a part of me that leans towards very maximalist and detailed designs, so I'm trying to make it more focused.

[author-a-holmes]

Hi Arista! How are you? How’s writing going?

What can you tell me about your OCs’ clothes? What does a typical outfit look like? Which OCs are fashion conscious and which just dress out of necessity? I’m fully enabling you to go off with this ask. Pics welcome 😊

Hello hun <3 I'm doing okay! Had a few stressful days where I fell behind a bit, but I'm doing better and making progress ^_^

Writing's going well today, surprisingly! I'm also self bribing which helps! (Sprint 3 today gave me 551 words, and permission to answer an ask!)

CLOTHES YOU SAY!? *Digs through her files*

Okay, so, I don't actually have a reference sheet file for any of the Changeling/Darkling/FeyTouched cast, so I'm going to have to wing it. If you want to see my reference sheets for Stella or Reilly from Stolen, let me know because those I do actually have put together for commissioning artwork lol.

For now though;

Lizzy Hail & Booker Reed

Prior to coming to the mortal realm Lizzy and Booker's wardrobe choices were very similar. The Fey use all natural fabrics, primarily linen and leather, and natural dyes.

Booker was more partial either raw, undyed fabrics, or the yellows and golds, Lizzy preferred the purples and blues and reds.

In Arbaon, because female fey have a set of wings many of the tops/shirts/tunics are open backed and tie, or button, or lace at the neck and waist.

Because Lizzy doesn't have wings, she was never comfortable wearing those, so wore mens-style tunics instead, often with buttons made from polished gemstones...

Both of them also preferred wide leg linen trousers, so between the two of them, their wardrobe choices were very similar.

Once they were introduced to the various fashions of the mortal realm, however, their tastes diverged a little more.

Lizzy is still partial to wide-leg trousers, but she has a growing collection of cotton t-shirts, long sleeves with various shaped necklines.

She's got a pair of leather shoes, but will eventually discover and adopt canvas high-tops (converse, essentially) and never look back.

Whereas Booker has discovered jeans and pull-over hoodies and decided that comfort is king. He still wears the linen tunics from Arbaon underneath the hoodies, but the softness, and the large front pocket won him over.

Andric Roche & Kavians Hunters

Even when he's not hunting kavians, Andric prefers practicality over comfort. He's almost always wearing leather boots, and has a preference for bootcut blue jeans with plain coloured henley's or pull on t-shirts. His favourite article of clothing is his worn leather jacket.

When he is working though he switched out blue jeans for black leather trousers, and henley's for reinforced black body armor, which is standard uniform for the Council's hunters.

He also carries at least one pair of daggers, and a pair of sunglasses at all times to combat the vampiric light sensitivity.